Chapter Four
The mood had changed with Tony’s smile and jaunty “climbing on board” and Gibbs began to make a quick salad. “Just sit there, Tony. Relax.” The aroma of the pizza was starting to take over the room, drowning out the scent of lost and lonely male. Gibbs was happy for the distraction; he needed to get his own equilibrium back. Soon he’d have to get into Master headspace and he couldn’t do that effectively if he was petting Tony like he was a damned puppy. Tony needed a very firm hand right now, not a gently protective Master. Later on they could figure out what roles they wanted defined and use them based upon their moods and needs, but for now, Tony needed a commander.
Gibbs shredded lettuce by hand, letting out some frustration before he threw it into two bowls. He roughly chopped up a tomato, threw in some garlic salt and bacon bits before drizzling dressing over his concotions. The stove timer dinged just as he finished.
“Get us a couple of beers, Tony,” Gibbs called over his shoulder. He sliced the pizza into big wedges and slid the whole pie on a large serving plate. When he turned back, Tony was still at the table, a lost expression on his face.
“DINOZZO! WITH ME!” he roared.
Tony stood, looking confused for a minute, his chair clattering to the ground.
Gibbs squelched the urge to speak tenderly and instead spoke in a firm tone.“With me now? Ya gotta stop getting lost in your head, Tony.” He jerked his head toward the fridge. “Get us a couple of beers, like I said. Not repeating myself again.”
“On it, Boss!”
“If you’re gonna call me a title, it’d damned well better be Master at home,” Gibbs shot back and Tony’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring. Yeah, “Pet the Tony” time was over and Tony needed a firmer hand now. “Beer, napkins, then ya eat. Understand me?” Gibbs placed the bowls, and then plate of pizza, on the table before eyeing Tony.
Tony licked his lips slowly, nodding, assessing Gibbs for one long moment before walking to the fridge. There was just enough insolence and rebellion for Gibbs to feel challenged. He didn’t want a compliant “Yes Sir” sub, he wanted a challenge, he wanted to take someone and work him into the mindset stroke by stroke, lash by lash. He wanted someone who could get as lost in being a sub as Gibbs could in being a Dom.
“Don’t push me too far,” Gibbs warned, his tone soft but deadly.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jethro,” Tony replied.
Gibbs arched a brow, moving easily into Tony’s personal space. “Master, Tony. Giving you one pass, for now. But you push me and I’ll redden your ass so hard that you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
“Promises, promises,” Tony quipped back.
The temptation to do just that almost overwhelmed Gibbs, but he knew it was what Tony expected. He would not be goaded into doing it on Tony schedule. Everything would be on his terms and his timeline, not Tony’s. “We’re eating now. You can join me or you can go hungry.” Gibbs made sure his voice was calm and controlled.
Tony continued to stand, just watching, nothing particularly arrogant in his bearing, even though the fact that he didn’t immediately follow orders told its own tale.
“Anthony. Sit. Down.” Gibbs grabbed the beer, forks, salt, and napkins himself and righted Tony’s chair, looming over the other man until Tony glanced down at the floor. “There are gonna be consequences. On my terms. You don’t push me. Understand?” When Tony didn’t answer immediately, Gibbs held his chin in a firm hand, forcing Tony to look up and into his level gaze. “I said ‘understand’.”
Tony nodded, emotion swirling deep in his eyes.
“Now eat, Tony.”
Tony dug right in, munching the salad, sipping his beer with gusto, while Gibbs ate more slowly, regarding Tony, trying to determine what was bluster and what was actual need. Tony was so damned complex and Gibbs had to go carefully, protect Tony even from his own mood swings.
But first he had to establish some hard and fast limits, let DiNozzo know that he wasn’t always softness and hair strokes and quiet words. As soon as Tony was done eating, Gibbs pointed to the basement stairs. “Clean off the table and then fix your mess down there. When you’re done, shower. Do not speak, do not say a word. Remember the rules.”
Tony nodded, scrambling to clear off the table, and then he pounded back down the stairs. Gibbs rinsed off the large serving plate and the bowls before he drifted upstairs, into the third bedroom. He kept his gear in here…hadn’t been pleasant when casual girlfriends caught sight of his interest.
Gibbs had invested a lot of time and energy into this hobby and he had a healthy collection of items to choose from. He finally decided to begin with a flogger custom made and weighted to his grip. The flogger was made of suede and had three-inch tails. Each tip had a tiny weight embedded in it, which made each blow pack a little extra sting. Gibbs moved his wrist back and forth a few times, nodding with satisfaction at how the tails moved.
This would be a great prelude, but he needed something more intense to follow up. This wouldn’t work if he couldn’t push Tony to his absolute limits and beyond. Tony needed to be taken to a place where neither of them felt safe and secure"even within themselves. It was the only way for them to get through this, to tear down and then rebuild everything.
Gibbs looked through the sea chest, pulling out a paddle. This would work for what he had in mind. Rough on one side and sheepskin on the other. Using this, he’d keep Tony way off balance. Gibbs listened to the shower go on and gave his cock a small squeeze. He and Tony had this attraction for so damned long, it was time they acted on it. Well past time.
Making good use of the closet in the spare room, Gibbs pulled a couple of items off hangars, his going out clothes, Gibbs changed out of his casual clothes into black pants and a dark gray button down shirt. He needed to look every bit the Master to be respected as the Master, and he knew Tony wouldn’t expect just talk. Tony needed action, he needed to get down and dirty, but only if he could trust Gibbs completely.
Gibbs studied himself in the mirror on the inside door of the closet. He looked in control; he looked calm, cool and collected. It didn’t matter what he felt inside. Hell, it never had. That’d be dealt with later.
For now, it was time to get down to business. He had a new submissive to break in.
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