Disclaimer: This story is the product of different minds coming together to have some fun. We have ownership over any new characters but the rest belongs to others (such a shame!).

Rating: NC-17 (If you are under 18 or don't like m/m relationships turn back now!)

Pairing: (C/V/E)

Authors' Notes: Tried to write a story with a touch of mystery!

Lights Out

By Ladysmiths


The black hours of night descended a depression over the lone figure as he rode his horse through town. Ezra hated riding at night but had decided to continue his journey home rather than spend another night on the hard ground without any company. Normally he would have enjoyed the time to himself, but having suffered the last two weeks with his mother at a nearby town made him long for the easy company of the six peacekeepers of Four Corners.

He stopped in front of the saloon to contemplate the darkened windows and shut door. It looked like the hard riding was a waste, and he would have to wait until morning. “Well my friend, you and I seem to be the only ones with any stamina” he muttered to his horse and nudged it towards the stable.

Ezra felt the hackles on the back of his neck stand on end as he entered the pitch black stable. Still holding onto Chaucer’s bridle he lit the small lamp that normally would have been burning all night. He shrugged off the feeling thinking it was only from the town being so quiet and continued to settle his steed for the night. He was only half way through brushing when a small rustle caused him to glance around. The feelings of apprehension returned and Ezra cautiously searched the shadows for movement. Finding none, he finished his chore quickly, eager to depart and escape to the safety of his bed. After giving Chaucer one last slap to the rump and slinging his jacket over his shoulder, he made his way towards the exit when the lamp blew plunging him into darkness.

Ezra didn’t even have a chance to draw his gun as he was roughly grabbed by 2 sets of strong arms and pulled back into an empty stall. As he was dropped to the floor he felt his arms pulled taut over his head with rope circling his wrists while a body pressed down pinning his legs. A gag was pushed into his mouth and firmly tied around his mouth. Panic began to well up inside as he tested the arms that still held him and finding them too strong. An arm snaked around his chest and Ezra had no choice in being slid slightly across the floor to lean against a hay bale.

Unable to see his combatants he concentrated on his other senses to predict the movement around him. He felt the pressure leave his legs allowing him to draw them up against his chest. He tried to listen as he heard whispering voices and then soft laughter. Then the hands were back disarming him of his guns, halting any thought on where he had heard those voices before.

His fear of the unknown had grown and he struck out with the only weapons he had left. He smiled at his success when his legs kicked flesh. He immediately stilled when a sharp blade of cold steel was pressed against his neck and a voice whispered in his ear “Oh your gonna pay for that”. The knife slid down past his neck to slice through the buttons of his expensive ruffled shirt. Ezra almost winced to think of another shirt ruined but kept still to ensure the knife didn’t diverge from it’s path in the dark. His parted shirt was roughly pushed up to his tied wrists letting the cool night air to strike his sweat soaked skin.

Tensing himself for a blow he gasped in surprise at the sensation of a finger making it’s way down his cheek bone to touch his lips. Multiple lips and tongues replacing the fingers covered his face, travelling down his neck, across his chest to find his nipples. They paused in their journey to tease them into hardness. Lost in the pleasure running across his skin Ezra’s surroundings were reduced to his sense of touch, the cool air, hot mouths and hard floor against his body. He arched his back in response and felt himself start to throb.

As fingers feathered his body he groaned against his gag as one brushed against his bulge. Returning it began to fondle him through his pants causing him to grow harder. As his breathing quickened he panicked when he felt himself unable to draw enough air through his gag. Still struggling, lips brushed against his ear “If you don’t yell, I’ll take it off”. Grunting in agreement the cloth was removed to be replaced by a hungry mouth with a tongue taking possession of his own.

His body jerked as his pants were pulled down to his boots with the roughness teasing his swollen member as it was released. While his lips was still being smothered muffing his sounds, another mouth worked it’s way up the underside of his shaft, licking his balls as it passed. Feeling a warm moist cavern engulf his length Ezra bucked his hips wanting to be taken in further to ease his ache. His skin tingled as he came in contact with the muscular body nipping at his throat.

Exploring hands worked their way towards his back passage massaging his cheeks as they went. He felt his legs automatically spread yearning for the invaders to enter. Moving in time to the mouth now taking him to the hilt he rocked his body back to plunge down on the fingers with his muscles tightening. His senses were overloading from being drawn into this world of no sight; the salty taste of his mouth being ravaged, hearing only his blood pounding, smell of hot bodies and the rippling pleasure of being touched inside and out.

He withered in agony as his body was coming close to release. With a last thrust forward he came into the willing mouth feeling himself milked of his offering. Sagging exhausted back against his support he lost contact with his attackers and found he missed it. The ropes went suddenly sack allowing his arms to fall to his sides and rub the circulation back into them. With his adrenalin slowly disappearing Ezra realised that all was silent around him and he was once again alone in the stall. This time however, the depression didn’t return and he even felt his spirit lighten.

Pulling his shirt ends together as much as he could he felt along the floor until he came in contact with his jacket flung against the staff wall. After making himself vaguely presentable he made his way to the stable door before pausing to speak into the darkness. “Mr Larabee, Mr Tanner, my profuse gratitude for making my return worth the hard ride.” With that he left the doorway to enter into the night failing to hear the two answering voices “Any time.”

THE END



Send us some vibes on what you think of the story!!!

More Ladysmiths Stories here

Divider Bar courtesy of BOON DESIGN