"Well, I guess you're gonna' be flyin' solo."

"Don't know. I hope not. I'm here for the show."

The beefy guy nods once. "Good luck."

"You, too."

The tall, butch male leaves the area, his letdown apparent.

The other man lifted his glass casually, sipping at the tart liquid. He was grateful to discover he liked this particular flavor. It would add insult to injury to have to be here and drink gross booze. He looked around, his gaze even and steady. Relieved he saw no one he knew, he sighed and shook his head.

Benny, what have you gotten us into this time?

The Italian Detective leaned back in the lavish chair as the attractive waiter came to his table. "Would you care for some more blush wine, sir?"

Ray was careful enough to let his gaze hover over the beautiful man for just a second or two longer than totally necessary. "Yes, thank you."

He shook his head again, bringing the full glass to his lips. Ray wondered, not for the first time, who honestly was the crazy one here, Fraser or a certain cop from Chicago? The place upstairs looked like any other night time dance club, with a very male twist. Everyone knew it was a popular, public gay establishment. But what the average patron didn't see, what the common party-guy didn't know about, was the literal underground portion of male entertainment it had to offer.

It was called "Benevolent Vice." Membership was strict, but tactful. It was composed of mostly men in their thirties and up, some who had a partner or those were just looking, sometimes just for the night. Vecchio remembered how he nearly hit the floor when the bartender flippantly ask him was this his first time at Benny V? It took a few moments of stunned thinking to figure out the familiar name was an abbreviation!

What made this place different from the upstairs escapades was the blatant monetary exchange for physical intimacy from the staff. For a fee, any member could pair up with a "worker" for the evening. Maybe even a threesome or four, depending on the amount your wallet could hold. Cash was preferred. That way, there were no credit card receipts to trace or annoying IRS records to keep track of. And yet, it's demure posture rivaled the garishness of such similar fraternities as "Studio 54."

Score one for the understated. he thought.

It seemed like an endless place, full of rooms, corridors, stairs and a "special" basement, for the BDMS crowd. It was all dark and lushly decorated, with burgundy carpeted walls with occasional portraits of erotic art, deep red cloth table covers, full comfy chairs, lowly lit candles and incense everywhere that gave off a musky, spicy scent. For those who wanted to be a little closer, there were king-sized beds on the floor close to the wall, separated by huge, thick drapes. Many massive, plush, dark purple pillows supported customers on navy blue satin sheets. Various kinds of music filled the air, mostly a jazzy tone, although sometimes it was of an ethereal quality, pandering to a quiet and obliging attitude. And, depending on the event, it was boosted by hearty dance tunes to get the audience invigorated. It was truly a palace worthy of an updated Sodom and Gomorrah.

Naughty-named snack foods and drinks were served on trays along with an assortment of condoms and fruit-flavored lube. There were smaller rooms attainable in the back, created with the same luxuriousness in mind, so the parties involved could go somewhere more private. Plans of a more intricate nature could, of course, be arranged in advance. Even the Detective had to admit any place with cloth, violet towels in the washrooms and rich, mahogany rugs had to be higher class than the electronic noise overhead. While the screaming techno beat droned on at street level and men were giving away their bodies for free, Ray Vecchio was hobnobbing with Chicago's finest male prostitutes and their clientele. The pleasure-laced peace enticed and frightened him, although he had little choice in his present attendance.

Of all the situations Fraser had coerced him into, this had to be one the Italian found to be the most challenging. For starters, it didn't have the far out oddities of looking for raw horse meat or searching for homeless psychics. It *was* peculiar enough, however, to fit the quirky requirements of the Mountie to help somebody. If one sat down and analyzed the crime, the motive and the prep, it would all make sense to take the course of action they did. At least to one crazy Constable obviously with an agenda of his own.

This could be considered expected, seeing what we've previously been through.*

Mr. Des Nuben had contacted them. He was an old friend of Robert Fraser, an openly gay politician, running for office in the states. He was being blackmailed. Those less than thrilled with his �choice� in lifestyle were trying to connect the sick dots between him and a drug overdose of a young man at the club mentioned above. It was threatened the media would learn of said events, inferring Mr. Nuben complied with the immoral antics that led to the awful death. Legally, Nuben had little to fear, but should some of his previous, youth-induced, sexual exploits in the Windy City be made public, any hope at being elected were impossible. The disturbing trail of the blackmailer lead back to the gay bar overhead, with the unique brothel underneath.

It seems appropriate the "righteous" police are, in fact, hypocrites.*

Through events Ray would rather forget, Fraser decided to intervene. Vecchio nearly had an aneurysm when the Constable suggested he could find the perpetrators if the dumb Canuck became an "employee." The Madam in charge of her fleshy commodities fell for the routine, especially since it meant hiring the delectable Mountie as one of her escorts.

The avaricious look she gave Fraser highly unnerved the Detective. Ray was perched to verbally cut her up, that is, until the supposedly innocent Canadian made a sly suggestion. With an eager, guileless face, he overtly implied maybe *Vecchio* should consider taking the position instead! Shockingly, the headmistress said she had considered it!

Circling the gaping cop like he was Italian sausage on sale at the supermarket, she said Ray would be amazed at the number of people interested in paying for his attention. He politely refused, flattered and blushing beet red. Unlike his best friend, Ray had chosen to stay on the sidelines, paid the dues for registration and soon became known as someone who just enjoyed the solitude and atmosphere the place offered.

His face grew hot even now, half due to the wine, half remembering the warmth that flushed through him at her words. It was part tranquility, partly hypnotic - two sensations this dwelling tended to evoke. And it wasn't without the full knowledge of who started it. *Benny* brought up the idea, having plainly stated the Detective was appealing enough to be paid for his erotic services. Despite being approached several times by various men tonight, it was difficult for the cop to believe he rated anything along such lines on the scale of attractiveness. Especially to Fraser! Perhaps desperation had spiked, he ventured, to account for the repeated attempts to engage his company. Anything more might cause him to consider preposterous, impossible events.

It's so ironic, it's sad. Can't I just do something I'd enjoy a whole lot more, like take Ian MacDonald out to lunch?

He'd do just about anything for Benny, which, of course, was why he was here. After losing Irene and living through Victoria, it had to mean something that they were so much closer than simple friends. He had his own speculations; deep, scathing questions about how far his dedication to his best friend would go. To what extent they'd go for one another. It all seemed so impossible at first, for their relationship to become so intense, but it had, right from the start. Ray was never good at lying to himself, so as long as he didn't think about it too long, maybe he could ignore what was his worse fear coming true.

Twenty years after Frankie and I fooled around and I still worry about it. But I'd hardly compare Benny to him.

At first, they assumed it wouldn't take more than a few days for Fraser to investigated the place, which turned out to be untrue, of course. Nothing they ever did would be so concise and easy. Ray promised to visit in the meantime, to show his face and chat with others, just in case an emergency happened. This was so Ray could get Benny the Hell out of there in a heartbeat. Just the idea of Fraser being hurt by one of the more colorful freaks, well, was enough to make *this* American go undercover in said den of indulgence as a buyer of paid-for male sex! The Constable agreed if something should happen with the Detective not around was not a good thing. That way, Ray wouldn't have to worry everybody seeing him as a total stranger. Now they knew his face and being spotted was not out of the ordinary.

So, here he was, sipping blush wine and enjoying the relaxed ambiance of this brothel who practiced the world's oldest profession in reverse. If the truth be known, they would all see he wasn't here to eat or talk. He wasn't here to drink, although that was what he was doing and he wasn't here to watch the stage show that would happen very soon. That emergency he had been worried about, the one he was scared that would happen in his absence, the event Fraser assured him wouldn't transpire, was in fact occurring very soon. If anyone could tell this cop was scared out of his wits, they weren't letting on. Unfortunately, it was a solid, dismal fact. Ray was terrified and the light red liquid did little to stop his hands from shaking. He had little clue about how to calm the panic coiling in stomach and making his fingers numb around the wad of money in his pocket.

Once a week, on Saturday, "Benevolent Vice" held a Live Auction starting around midnight. The most tasty laborers would go up for sale to the highest bidder for the evening. The Madam had assured them the Constable would not be expected to participate, but when her best redheaded product fell ill, Benny *had* to take his place or too many questions would arise. There's nothing worse, she said, than a cat fight amongst "girlfriends" before or after a show. The Mountie, not wanting to jeopardize the case so close to being solved, managed to convince her it would be okay, as long as he could get a hold of Ray. After Fraser's frantic phone call, the Italian had to obtain money and lots of it. This normally wouldn't be a problem, to acquire said cash from the precinct's fund meant for such endeavors, such as drug payoffs in a sting or a setup for payment in a kidnaping. How the Hell he was going to play this off was beyond him. Ray wasn't even sure if he could stomach seeing his partner paraded about like designer clothes on a runway. Better yet, how was the Italian going to resist?!

*~~~~~*

Through a screw up in paperwork, Vecchio was able to obtain only about fifteen hundred dollars from the station. However, it was now about 11:30pm. He could've gotten more, but it would require contacting Lt. Welsh at home, who was probably asleep by this time. Although Harding was mostly aware of the details of the case, his patience had once again been strained by the bizarre aspects surrounding it and was offering little leeway. Ray could just imagine *that* conversation!

�Oh, sorry to wake you, boss, but I need you to authorize more money to keep Benny from being sold to another man for sex.� Right, I don't think so!

So, with his trusty ATM cards in hand, Ray withdrew several hundred dollars from several personal accounts and just prayed the amount wouldn't go too high. His plan was to "buy" Benny and spend the night in the back with the Mountie just talking, eating and napping until dawn. It would give a good appearance and then they could continue with the case. His stomach lurched as the emcee, a "lady" of sorts, came onto the stage dressed in a huge yellow wig, frighteningly loud makeup and an outfit that looked like it was made of sequins. The music switched from Enya to the computerized mess known as, "Y'all Ready For This?"

"Members of Benny V! It is time for the weekly Live For A Night Auction! And boy, do we have some pretties for you this evening! Come on, give it up, give it up!"

Why the Hell are they playing this up?! The last thing I need is for everybody to get into the spirit!

But he quickly could see that was what the drag queens did here. They got the crowd going and the money flowed like cheap beer did upstairs. That niggling in his gut became tighter and he fought to keep down his alarm. It was silly, really. Even if he couldn't come up with enough cash, Benny would never actually commit such a wanton act with a stranger. But it worried Ray he would let Fraser down.

Yet, that didn't explain his overall sense of dread, the sensation something was very wrong about this entire idea from the beginning. Sure, he usually felt that way about most plans the Mountie encountered, but this was cutting to the quick, leaving the pulp exposed. At the same time, waves of guilt and deep anticipation coursed through him, leaving his penis mildly awake, yet repressed due to the shame. This scenario, this circumstance, this complete chance encounter, was a dream come true in the worse possible way. It was the ultimate guilty thrill - to be forced to watch the Mountie in some kinky outfit, exhibited for Vecchio's visual enjoyment. Now if he could just stop hating himself so much for wanting it! He set the empty glass down as the first participant walked out from the shadows. Ray noticed those patrons on the big beds near the wall were now propped up on the edge, watching the show with glee, as was everyone else.

Another goofy song came on, bellowing the lame inquiry, "Are You Ready to Rumble?" The first young man to be sold was short and blond, looking like a gym nut with thickly chiseled muscles and overly tanned skin. His neck and wrists were encircled by flimsy manacles and dog collar, connected by a thin chain, more for show than anything else. Vecchio giggled, thinking the man looked like a well-cooked turkey. He quickly fell silent, seeing the bid *started* at five hundred dollars. It rapidly grew and ended at the tidy sum of eighteen-fifty. He had more than that, but it was getting close. The next prize was similarly shackled. A big, bulky guy, more on the football player side, with a crewcut, blue eyes and a neck as thick as Ray's thigh. He would've been mesmerized by that physical oddity, but he was too busy sweating over the 2K the old guy up front plunked down like he was swimming in cash.

He knew he looked nervous, but couldn't help it. It grew quiet for a minute and the American was honestly glad for the music to start again. At first, the song sounded familiar, but it switched, changed, was lengthened and almost altered beyond recognition. Once the remixed, infectious beat made the Italian confess he wanted to get up and dance, even as unsettled as he was, did he recognize it as the funkiest version of "Rapture" by Blondie he'd ever heard.

He was stuffing the money back in his pocket when Fraser came out. The moment became all blurry and surreal, killing all rational thinking, making his once-mild erection now take notes, pictures and store it all on DVD! Benny was dressed in a loose, red, mesh tank top that showed off his blush nipples in a naughty way. Tight, black vinyl slacks that *had* to restrict breathing encased the powerful legs of the Mountie and his hair was greased up and slicked back. His pale feet were bare. It didn't help that the Canadian was giving the crowd his most boyish grin. And the restraints were giving Ray ideas he'd never entertained before. Blood and panic were shooting to his groin faster than even when he was fifteen. Never again, would Vecchio be able to look at Fraser in his dress reds the same way!

Oh, shit. Oh, Hell. Oh, bloody, dear God.

Shocked, dismayed and nearly frantic, Ray searched for a way to contain his reaction. If anybody caught sight of him gaping like a scared rabbit, they might wonder what was up, especially if Ray did not play this off correctly. It was imperative he keep up the facade of a patron. He had to remain calm, like he did this all the time.

Like he wanted it. Like he...wanted Fraser.

Yes, it was official now. God hated him or the Devil was more powerful than he thought and was laughing hysterically at him. Honest to Whoever, he'd resisted his best, trying to *not* think of having Benny like that, but he confessed it was more out of self-preservation than true denial.

He closed his horrified eyes and summoned all the strength he could find, as the bidding set out at a thousand dollars. So *this* was why he hated being here! He'd rather give away money to strangers on the street to hear Benny filibuster, rather than force to the surface feelings he'd fought against like death for the last few months. Over the whoops and hollers of the vivacious crowd, under the table, Ray blatantly gripped his groin, moaning aloud at the ounce of relief. He sat straight up and let his body language state exactly what he was required to display, that his sole intention was to make the man on stage *his* for the night.

It wasn't a difficult role to portray.

An African-American professional to the left upped the ante to twelve-hundred right away and Ray topped it with a rousing two hundred increase. Benny's eyes shot over to his partner's direction, squinted in the bright spotlight and quirked his smile a bit. Ray's stomach quivered at the sexy sight and let his gaze rake over Fraser's form not for the first time in a less than platonic manner. Arousal merged with the fright and began to take root. Once this was all over with, how he was going to retreat from all this ramped emotion, he had no idea.

"Runner!"

The shout jarred him, having come from the table to his far right. A "runner," another outrageously coifed and brightly attired transvestite took the chain and escorted the meek Mountie to the spot just yards away from Ray. The couple there had requested an up-close look at what was on the market. They skeptically surveyed the Constable and was outbid by someone in the far back. Jealousy jolted the Italian, causing him to snap off another amount, swallowing up the reserves he got from work. All that was left was his private finances. He was giddy and anxious in his declarations; it was a pure *delight*, to lay demand to his claim. Oh, it felt good, it was so damned GOOD, to be able to shout to the rooftops that the Canadian was *his*!

A determined, raucous interference came from some fool directly in front. A thin man with short, light brown hair and a nervous attitude stated his own superior amount. Ray fixated him with a glare that could cut diamonds. The guy was the rebellious type, who looked like he didn't understand what a modern dress code meant. Fraser was back on the stage, trying to get a glimpse of his present, would-be suitor. It was with the greatest amount of satisfaction, and another surge in excitement, when Ray glibly trampled the other guy's price. But this man was tenacious, obviously a poor loser and loose with his riches. By the look of hatred thrown over his shoulder, it was clear he wanted to physically jump Vecchio, but knew he couldn't. The dirty blonde tried to retaliate with his own new cost.

Ray looked the stage, reading his friend's reaction in dismay. Fraser was eyeing this unfamiliar admirer in wonder, pondering him, flattered someone would fork over so much for his consideration. Possessiveness sparked in the Italian, the greed sharp and cutting, to the point it had him growling! White dread pooled in his gut, fueling the aching hardness between his legs, as his lust found it's voice.

"Runner!"

Again, the Mountie left the stage and this time was brought over to the Detective. Ray was breathing hard by this point and realized he'd gone too far in this little game. Benny, of course, wasn't helping. His face held what had to be the best, yet falsified, display of brazen desire. Under the table, Ray clutched his cock, distended and demanding, futilely attempting to tame it. He barely heard the words of the she-male leash holder.

"You can touch the merchandise, sir. It is, after all, your purchase."

His "brothers" began cheering him on and Ray could only manage a nod, not fully understanding.

The Constable looked helplessly to the Lady on his left, who insisted, "Oh, go on, honey! He more than wants you to!"

With that, Benny knelt in front of Ray, head bowed. And Ray nearly fainted, his jaw dropping open. The unfamiliar rush of ownership came over him, beckoned by the subjugated site. He couldn't help letting the words slip out, "Oh God, Benny." He tried to detach himself from the act, but it was impossible. The Detective craved to feel up his would-be prize. He started to touch his hopeful possession, his hands shaking, the fingertips practically sizzling over Fraser's body. First at the neck, then down the red, mesh covered chest and over the taut stomach. Ray�s heart nearly popped out when Fraser laid his head back, eyes closed, in false sexual exhilaration. Vecchio let his hand drift back up, permitting himself the closest connection. With his heart slamming against his ribs and praying he wasn't offending Fraser, he caressed the Mountie's face. First with his thumb over a perfect cheek, then lightly skimming over the resilient pelt and finished by cupping his chin.

Vecchio bit his lip and threw out everything he knew regarding the Constable, realizing Fraser was perfect for undercover work. How else could one explain the Mountie's beyond convincing pliancy to the cop's aggressive touch? Fraser was playing the part well, as if this were truly exciting him. Benny was breathing fast, his heart pounding so hard Ray could feel it during the sensuous trek. The Canadian went to stand, but not a spilt second before turning his head, licking his lower lip...so, so, very close to Ray's hand.

The reaction was subliminal and yet physical, causing Ray to grip, then nearly brake the arm of the chair. The pseudo-innocent signal set Vecchio on fire. As Fraser return to the stage, a simmering stare from the Detective followed him. The cop pressed his fist to his lips and anyone looking didn't have to guess he wanted the gorgeousness that had bent his knee before him. And with the next bid, everybody knew.

"Twenty-five hundred!"

The dweeb in front of Ray held up his hands in surrender, evidently aware he was outclassed, as well as out of cash. There was a roar of applause and Ray let the wine have control for the moment. He stood, striding to the front with flair and confidence. Staring straight ahead and assuming the appropriately arrogant march necessary, he went to claim his acquisition. It would be over in moments, so he savored the trip of strutting to the stage and handing over almost all the money he had like it was pocket change.

But when the Queen held the chain out to him, he almost backed off, paling at the idea. Benny truly wasn't his. This was originally intended as merely show. Yet, he had little choice standing in front of everyone. Feeling a little sick, he smiled at the Lady and took hold of the leash and walked away, refusing to meet Fraser's eyes.

*~~~~~*

They were led down a narrow corridor with faux-brick linoleum flooring, the walls painted black and lit only by the occasional antique streetlamp, which had large candles encased in a glass fortress. It reminded Ray of a sick representation of the ear in which Jack the Ripper reigned, around nineteenth-century England. Through his discomfort, the cop could see how the jobholders of "Benny V" had an odd kinship with the prostitutes of the time. On the way, Vecchio said nothing, feeling more like he was going to the gas chamber. The dread he'd felt earlier was mixing with extreme trepidation. There were people crowded everywhere backstage and they were either jealously sneering or genuinely clapping at the odd couple. After going up some padded steps and rounding several corners, they finally made it to a door labeled, "Honeymoon Suite I."

Their escort was a disturbingly convincing representation of Liza Minelli from "Cabaret." She swaggered to the door, stopping to open a rolled scroll. Her magnificently painted eyes questioningly scanned the mock-aged brown linen in her hands. "Well, this is odd." There it was, the telltale twang stating this was really a man before them and not a meticulously crafted woman. "Usually, when one gets the Grand Honeymoon Suite, they are entitled to the Rising Ceremony beforehand. Are you sure you two don't want it?"

"Is it required?" The overly polite Mountie queried. Once Vecchio rolled his eyes, Fraser responded, "Well, we wouldn't want to be rude, Ray."

The Italian was about to launch into a heated declaration that *this* was the weirdest situation the Canadian had ever coaxed him into and did the Constable really hear himself just now, trying to be gracious to a half rate actress look-a-like, in a sub-basement male whorehouse, while draped in chains *and* wearing a funny outfit? Problem was, the Lady before them started speaking first. "No, it's not necessary." Liza continued, "But seeing it has been paid for in full ...ah, yes, here it is... " Without checking further with the couple before her, the chaperone opened the door, while rambling off what was offered in the full package. "Full meals, all drinks included. Silk nightware, complemented by fleece robes. Tonight starts with a stimulating visit to our sunken pool, followed by a full body massage by our expert masseur for both parties, to the mood music of your choice, of course. It is topped off with aroma therapy provided to induce a state of total calmness. After that, the skin is treated with various mild cleansers, fragrant oils and draped in the Ritual Seduction Cloth. Pedicure and manicure optional. Sound good, gentlemen?"

It took a second Ray to filter out all the sights those descriptions induced. "Maybe next time." the Italian shaky snapped. Neglecting to tip the transgendered leader, the cop hurried the confused Minelli from the room, slammed the door and dropped the chain like it was electrocuting him. He went over to place his hands on the back of a fancy chair and hung his head forward, eyes closed. Vecchio was trembling, blooding pounding in his ears, the arousal now creating jolts of agony. He refused to look at his reflection in the ornate mirror above the desk in front of him. "I'm sorry for that, Benny. I shouldn't have got so caught up. I know it got a little too wild."

Ray could hear soft clinking of the chain as Fraser removed the restraints. "I am the one who should be apologizing, Ray. I'm sorry to have put you through that."

The Italian squeezed his eyes tighter, irritated at the Mountie's excessive consideration. "Oh God, Fraser! I wasn't angry!"

True curiosity colored the Canadian's words. "Well, if you weren't upset, Ray, then what is that matter? You seem awfully distressed."

Pain slammed around in Ray's brain until he thought he would scream. There was no way he could tell the Constable why he was anguished and yet he could not back away from the excruciating hunger the stage show instilled ... that Benny had caused. "I'll...I'll be okay, Fraser. Just give me a minute."

The Italian wanted to pace, like a trapped animal, trying to flee his source of simultaneous pleasure and misery. Benny said nothing and for a moment, Vecchio was grateful the Mountie was giving him the space he'd requested. It wasn't until the Canadian spoke again, did the Detective understand the cold silence.

"I see." Fraser said, the tone brittle. "I did not mean to repulse you, Ray. I know how very difficult it was for you, pretending such activities are anything less than repugnant."

The American was appalled! Fraser actually believed the cop considered him depraved! He faced the Constable, then wished he hadn't, seeing he was still in that wanton attire. The Mountie's arms were crossed, making his pecs poke out of that sinful top. "Jesus, Benny! I didn't say you made me want to puke! It just got a bit out of control, that's all."

"You don't need to lie, Ray. Let's make tonight be a lesson of what boundaries should be in the future when working."

The Italian was ready to rip in him about who the Hell did he think he was, since he obviously didn't know crap about Ray Vecchio, who was supposed to be his best friend. Suddenly, there was the a melodious sound near the door. Fraser quietly said, "That's the door chime."

The Italian strode over and flung it open, not bothering to see who it was on the other side. His temper cooled a bit to discover it was the Madam, complete with a thick packet in her hand. The young woman smiled mischievously at him. "May I come in? Or are you two already half way to heaven?"

"Very funny." Ray sneered, letting her past.

The Headmistress nodded in the Mountie's direction. "Constable."

"My Lady." Benny returned with a mini-bow.

"You know, guys, I really don't like to be lied to." she playfully admonished, while looking in the same mirror Vecchio avoided. "I mean, finding out the truth about you two killed a few fantasies for me, which is not a good thing. Even if it did created some new ones."

Vecchio blurted, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Detective! If you two wanted to spend some time together alone while seeking justice, I would've let you have a room here for the night!" She turned to the Mountie. "There was no need to pay, even if I did try bust my butt to make it as special as possible in the short amount of time you gave me. By the way, that guy you were investigating said he will be back on early this week, probably Monday night. And please arrest him when he's upstairs! The last thing need is publicity. I get too many people begging for a membership."

It took Ray a second to realize she was talking to Benny about the case, the real reason they were there. The cop sighed when her words fully sunk in.

Just like Benny to pay for a room we won't be using.

"Well, this is slumming for us, but we'll make do." Ray drawled.

"Very funny, Detective. And I can promise you there's no camera in here, although I was sorely tempted. But what I can't believe is what *he* went through to make sure this night would be exceptionally memorable. Here I desperately need for the auction and what does he do? He gets *excited* over it! He helped with the lighting, the makeup, advising the hair stylist! I never in my life seen a person so wound up for a show they weren't getting paid for. That is until I figured it out! It was a sight to behold."

"I simply wanted it to appear realistic." Ben nervously stated. Even across the room, Ray saw Fraser go even paler.

From the look of utter alarm on his partner's face, Vecchio was starting to get a good idea of what Fraser's true intentions were. The cop's fear and anxiousness was weakening with every word the Madam spoke. "He was eager?" Ray inquired.

"Eager!? He picked out the costume! I tried to get him to go with something a little less slutty, but he wouldn't listen and kept asking for the vinyl pants in a smaller size. How do you breathe in those anyway?"

"It is getting difficult." murmured Fraser. The Constable's eyes were far away, bright with fright and was hugging himself tightly.

Vecchio took pity on his partner and decided to get the "Lady in Charge" out of there. He walked forward, leading her to the door. "Thanks for getting the money back to me so fast. I can return it to my accounts on Monday."

She abruptly turned in his direction. "And you! This is your first time buying?! That bidding was amazing, like you're a natural. I thought you were going to beat the crap out of that guy in front on you."

"I did what I had to."

She viewed him doubtfully. "Uh-huh. Its that why you put your hand under the table only when the Mountie came out? Or touched all over him? That I do have on tape!"

Blushing intensely, Ray indicated the door. "Then I guess you should be leaving. Or how else are we going to get to Nirvana?"

She opened the door, quirked her smile, letting her dark eyes slink over him. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"No, thanks."

"Goodnight, Detective. Constable."

Vecchio closed the door, leaned his back against it, then tossed the envelope on the dresser.

Fraser was still standing there, now weaving a bit, utterly horrified by the Madam's admission. The Italian almost went straight for him, nearly opened his mouth and asked what was all this about. Instantly, another idea surfaced. It would be best, he decided, to investigate the one thing that would prove to him what the Canadian had planned. Looking around, the American just began to truly notice the stylish detail, the extravagant arrangements before him. Oddly, the orange track lighting near the dark beige ceiling was the most striking feature. There were full bouquets of fresh flowers on the desk, the bed and the fireplace. Their colors were tempered, not the theme of a spring garden, but more like wild blossoms in the fall. Iced champagne rested in a silver bucket, complete with two slim flute-shaped glasses.

A fire was raging in the brick hearth, complete with a bearskin rug. He was drawn to a small, gold pot that sat by the fire. Inside was a round, slotted utensil, the kind usually used for honey or syrup. Vecchio could see it was actually warmed oil and the circular tool was to drizzled it onto the person receiving the erotic massage. The utter sensuousness made him shudder. The bedframe was black, canopy style, covered by a scarlet comforter. Brown lace mixed in with the rust drapes and lamps with peach shades were trimmed in mock bronze. There were black candles in every other part of the place, casting beautifully dancing shadows and the smoldering incense let off a wonderful mint scent. It took him a minute to see the corner held an ebony tiled hot tub. He blinked, having never seen a black Jacuzzi. It seemed like a heck of a lot for the Madam to go through for a pseudo-romantic interlude.

Meaning, there's nothing make-believe about it.

Looking back at Fraser, the Constable was against the wall, watching the flames in terror, although unfocused. Ray started towards the Canadian, causing Benny to raise his hand a bit, stopping the American. "Please, Ray. I'm sorry. If you want to leave now I can understand. I...just...I...was...just hoping..."

Benny started to breath deeply, closing his eyes, the hurt seeping to the surface. Ray was looking at a reflection of himself from just a few moments ago, craving to the point of mental torture. Except the rabid discomfort the cop was presently experiencing was quite different. It was imperative Ray let his friend know he didn't think the Constable was sick or obscene. Besides, it made the cop giddy to believe that maybe something akin to eternal bliss was within reach after all. Vecchio walked closer, just a foot from Fraser's sunken form. With his own heart beating triple time, the Italian eyes flitted over the distressed face.

"You did all this for me, Benny?" he whispered. The Canadian could only manage a nod. Ray let his fingers curl under the loose sleeve of the tank top, towards Benny's chest. "And this, too?"

"Y-yes." The Canadian trembled at his friend's touch.

All the fragrance was making the cop lightheaded and the blaze in the stone pit made the room quite hot, adding to the heat between them. Not a foot away, the Italian caressed Benny's pink cheek. "You enjoyed dressing up for me, didn't you? Getting all decked out in that sexy getup? Having me bargain for you like that?"

"Y-yes."

Instinctively, Ray kissed his forehead. "Me, too."

The Mountie gasped, his mouth opening. The Italian nuzzled Fraser's neck, his nose rubbing against the Mountie's ear. "Just relax, Benny."

"Ray...I..."

"Hey, hey..." the Detective cooed, backing off a bit, looking into downcast eyes. Alarm tickled his stomach at the idea of telling the truth, but he wouldn't have his friend thinking this act was out of compassion. He continued his admission, keeping the tone soft, inoffensive. "She was right about me, Benny. You drove me crazy out there. You have any idea how excited you got me, how beautiful you were on your knees? Why do you think I felt you up like that?" Ray let his lips drift along the stark lines of the Mountie's throat, the tension making the ridges stand out. He pressed his straining erection against his lover's shiny vinyl crotch.

"Oh God, Ray! Yes, please!" Finally convinced, Fraser's arms came up, feeling up and eventually wrapping around the American and Ray did the same, embracing his partner. Arousal spiked again as Ray brushed against the Mountie's face with his own, encouraging a delicate kiss. Benny complied, almost whimpering at the intimate contact. They kissed passionately, not too deep, yet slow and deliberate. Long, elegant fingers came up and slicked through the greased up hair of the Constable, mussing it up another guilty joy. The Canadian was cupping Ray's face as they lazily kissed, rubbing his hands under the dark green suit, up and down the Italian's sides.

Vecchio pasted the point of reason, of repression, of trying to think such fate would be deterred. It made the most forbidden solicitations surface, circumstances be damned. Prompted by Benny's movements, Ray shed his jacket, leaving it in a heap on the floor. Once the Detective started on buttons of his the grey shirt, Fraser began to take off that sinful top.

The action agitated the cop, causing him to place his hands over the Mountie's shaking fingers. Fraser viewed him questioningly, making Vecchio respond, "No. Leave it on. All of it." If possible, the Constable blushed even more and quirked his smile, understanding Ray really did like the way he looked in it. The long-sleeved shirt joined the jacket on the floor and the Italian stood half naked before his lover, pulling the other man in close to him once more. Vecchio took off his slacks with one hand, not daring to let the other man too far away, not getting enough of his friend's touch.

The Constable gazed in awe at the black, satin boxers Ray sported. The Detective glanced down, smiling. He'd honestly chosen them without thinking. He muttered, "Maybe I was hoping a little something would happen."

Not being able to take his eyes off the bouncing bulge they held, Benny nearly growled, "Evidently."

Vecchio whispered, "Come on, let's go to bed."

"Yes, of course." Fraser retorted, actually more interested in staying molded to Ray.

With that, the Detective spun the Mountie around, backed him up towards the queen-sized, comfy bed, careful not to trip in the darkened room. But Ray didn't have to see clearly to know who he was making love with. Ray laid him down and climbed on top the fully clothed Canadian. The Italian was working himself into a fevered pitch, adoring every second of this kinky loving. He eased himself down, his heart pounding like mad, lowering his face to Fraser's willing, exquisite body.

The Mountie whimpered as Ray nestled into his neck, drinking in the clean scent. He continued downward to those barely hidden nipples, getting a thrill nosing the tank top out of the way to reach them, savoring Benny's joyful response every time Ray's tongue would slide over a hardened nub. Vecchio hoisted the red mesh, just enough to reach the flat stomach that contracted at the slightest contact of his mouth. He licked the navel sinuously before coming to the top of those tight vinyl pants. His hands were trembling as he unsnapped the tiny clasp, lowering the hidden zipper.

"Ray?" The Mountie's voice was bewildered, strained. He fought to raise up on his elbows. "Are...you sure? I mean...do you really...want to?"

In the near darkness, Vecchio began licking up the slick fake-leather, loving the feel on his tongue, all connection with the outside world cut off. "Oh yes, Benny, this is want I want. I've done enough bartering for one night."

The hardness jerked inside the inky material, under the attention the Italian was giving it. He slipped it out reverently, slipping the foreskin back without hesitation. Fraser gulped and threw his head back, shocked at how zealous Ray was, unable to watch as the Detective took the wet, uncut hardness of his lover into his mouth. Ray savored the textures and flavors and the sounds of utter desperation Fraser was making. The candles flickered in the background. Vecchio glanced up, ultimately touched by the sight. Benny was kissed by the sun at dusk, his skin radiating the logs, burning hot-blond. Ben was so wholly taken, Ray barely recognized him. Strong Mountie hands clinched the scarlet cloth repeatedly, eyes staying closed, except for the occasional peek at Ray's erotic work, leaving the beautiful man totally undone. The Italian cast the world aside, briefly thinking LSD might be piped in the airways, the act creating a high he barely knew. He dug deeper, extending his oral talents to the snug testes, charting and mapping much of his lover's body. Only a minute portion was left unexplored, saved for future encounters.

Fraser's tone was helpless, at the verge of breaking. "Ray...stop...I'm going to...if you don't...oh, God..."

Remembering his friend's modesty, despite this far out engagement, the Italian let the stiff organ free for a second, kissing all around the other man's stomach. "What, Benny? You want me to make you finish?"

Tremors set it. Deep, sensations that came from within, rattled the Mountie's tense form, his breathing kicking into overdrive. Even in the low light, Ray could make out the handsome visage before him twist, flicker into a knot, torn between civility and raw, base longing. It made the cop's lust jump even higher, his lips floating over the fair abdomen. "Tell me, Benny."

The ecstatic lightening strikes played havoc with his mind. Teeth clenched, the normally cool Constable seethed, "Please...yes...make me..."

Even in the midst of passion, Benny could not be vulgar, a trait Ray found endearing and remarkably exciting. "You got it."

He let his lips trace the beautiful cock to the tip, slipping back down on it without hesitation. Benny jerked up, gasping and Ray moaned, knowing that sensation all too well, of having a wet dick sucked back into a hot mouth. The cop let it slide as deep as he could managed, as far back as he'd fantasized, and pulled back up again and again. It was the Detective's turn to fist the blanket beneath them, the crude act with such a virtuous man savagely turning him on. When the begging became barely audible and high pitched, Vecchio growled, due to the caustic expectation of Fraser's seed. Then there it was, all at once, from the wildly bucking body under him. Thick, white foam filled his mouth and Ray winced at the intimacy. Only when he opened his eyes all the way, letting his pupils adjust, did he let go of the shrinking cock, still breathing hard, he swallowing gently, almost ceremoniously, while nuzzling the musky groin of his lover. Vecchio managed to scoot up a bit, until his head rested on Benny's stomach.

They stayed like that for a shorter time than Vecchio expected, because soon Benny was stroking the back of his neck. The mildly husky voice of the Constable could scarcely be heard. "How do you want me, Ray?"

Ray closed his eyes again. The Detective didn't want to pressure the Mountie into anything strange, especially since this entire night was something out of the "Twilight Zone" on acid.

"Any way you like, Benny. I'm open to whatever you want." The torso of the prone man seemed to collapse, letting Ray's head fall with it. Still somewhat breathless, Fraser said, "I see. I had wondered how much of the stage act was just that for you."

Puzzled, Ray flipped his head around to face Fraser....who was breathtakingly handsome post-orgasm. It took a second for the Italian to look into that gorgeous, flushed and sweaty face and remember his train of thought. "What...do you mean?"

The Canadian shrugged. "I thought you had...enjoyed the fact I knelt in front of you."

That perked Ray up. "Oh, I did, Benny! Please don't think I didn't! It was just different ... to see you like that."

Reluctant, but determined, the Constable asked, "And how did you want me at that point?"

Vecchio's face got hot, the memory flooding his thoughts. He couldn't help letting his features darken. At the same time, Fraser's face started to light up.

"What?! What were you thinking?"

"Nothing, Benny. Never mind."

"Tell me, Ray.....Please." The plea made the cop's cock twitch, but before he could retort, the Mountie's voice turned deep and provocative, as took hold of Vecchio's hand. "Did you like seeing me on my knees, Ray? I know I enjoyed it."

That got the cop breathing deeply again. "Yeah, I liked having you like that. I mean, I didn't want to hurt you...or even upset you. It was just unlike what...I..." Within a heartbeat, Vecchio understood his friend had *always* been complying.

"Then tell me how you wanted me. Or, better yet, show me."

The Detective surmised if the Canadian truly wanted to know his atypical desires at that moment, he would indulge him. "Lie on your stomach, face down...and don't move."

Slowly, Fraser did as told, facing away from the wall. Without hesitating, Ray removed his boxers, straddled his lover, the tight vinyl the only thing separating them. It was with great enjoyment that Ray knew Benny was his for the evening, come what may. Long, lean hands caressed the Mountie's mesh-covered back for several moments, until Ray leaned down to kiss the Canadian on the back of the neck, causing Benny to flinch.

Resuming the nimble journey along the Constable's back, the Italian cooed, "Just relax."

Suddenly, Vecchio raised up and lowered himself to directly in front of the most perfect round globes. He licked between them, up the seam, once, twice, a good three times. "Oh, dear God, Ray!"

The primal deed caused the Mountie to squirm, as he tried his best to stay still. The shiny material resisted the cum/saliva mix, refusing to allow it to soak in, which was exactly what Ray wanted. He raised back up, draped his body over the Mountie, placing his raging hardness against the black plastic and began to thrust. The dark headboard had been polished to the point of reflecting the faint images of the lovers before it. He kissed the back of the Canadian's ear and hooked those sexy hands onto Benny's hips. The Madam's words floated back to him. Yes, this was indeed a sight to behold.

Benny was writhing under him, absolutely aroused from Ray's physical confession. He coaxed the Constable up on his knees, letting Fraser jerk himself as the Detective got off from behind. As he pushed forward, the pants Benny wore began sliding down a little at a time. The tightness in his straining nuts was escalating, as the crack of Benny's ass was becoming more visible by the minute.

The reality of the evening was hit Vecchio like a wrecking ball. The Mountie was his. And in just a short time, Ray *would* have his cock buried so deep in that dark crevice... Euphoria suffused him, causing him to shout as he came. The onyx surface was coated with his cream, not stopping until Benny groaned his second release soon after. The Detective collapsed onto Fraser, then rolled off, panting, looking at the blurred canopy above. The Constable maneuvered downward, until he was flat, except slightly raised on his elbows, his head hanging low.

Vecchio shook his head, as the events that led them here replayed in his mind. "You...knew that guy wouldn't be here...until Monday night...didn't you?"

Looking into the headboard before him, Fraser said, "Actually, no, I didn't. But when I seen that the auction was legitimately threatening the case, I simply took advantage of the situation...should you have found yourself enjoying my performance."

Ray chuckled. "So your saying had the stage show turned me on, but you didn't make arrangements for it, you would've just kicked yourself?"

"Exactly."

"I can see that." Glancing around the room once more, Vecchio stated, "Benny, you do know we have at least two days and one more night in this room, before we arrest the blackmailer?"

Smiling, Fraser rolled onto his side to face his lover. "Yes, Ray."

It gave the cop chills, just thinking of the joy to be had in the bed, the Jacuzzi, the bathroom(which he hadn't even seen yet!), on the bearskin rug, the scented oil, trickling from the honey wand ...

"I think we may have to get a membership here, Fraser."

END