Happy Birthday Natalie! I knew how much you wanted Confessions, so I figured it would make a good birthday present. I pulled the old, completely smut part of my brain out of the closet, and it really shows in this. I got evil with the ending, but one day in the future, it will be another chapter. Don't murder me for how the smut came along in this, Its NHL 2002 eating my brain!. Except there Andy wasn't the culprit. All and all I think the bunny turned out pretty good, and gave me the chance to write pouty!Kirk a couple times and die a happy man from the images. As a somewhat extended present, the host for Confessions has your name except with yn instead of ie. And as the last part of the present, you can see this to get you in the mood. Uh, I can't really think of much else to say, so I shall shut up and let you read and hopefully enjoy. Happy Birthday!!
Love,
James
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Rating: NC-17 to the highest degree
Original Date of Completion: September 2002
Pairing: Andrew Ference/Kirk Maltby/Steve Yzerman
Disclaimer: I own them all, you can't have them. This is all fiction from my demented little mind, so don't sue me.
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Disk 1: The Very Best of East vs. West.
Episode 1240-F
"Red Winged Penguin"
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The lights slowly brighten, and the camera pans to its right. Seated on the red velvet couch is Natalyn, a glass of wine in hand. She takes a drink, then sets it down on the table beside the couch. She turns and smiles at the camera.
"Hey Hey all my smutaholics out there. I am Natalyn Moore, and I welcome you to Confessions. This week we've got a steamy story from the yummiest of all Penguins, Andrew Ference. It seems this Penguin likes his wings red," She giggled and smirked at the camera to her left, the camera changing views. "Let's face it, that's the best way to have 'em. Mr. Ference certainly wouldn't disagree. In what seems like a fitting title, we've called this one Red Winged Penguin. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show. And oh yeah, definitely keep the lotion handy for this one,"
The camera turns from Natalyn to its left. The lights slowly dim, basking the walls of the Confessional Kiosk in a faint red. Suddenly, a spot light hits the Kiosk, and "the Chair" is brought into view. The screen flashes black, and the next thing to be seen is Andrew Ference.
Andrew Ference smiles nervously at the camera, then drops his gaze to the floor. "My name is Andrew Ference, and I have a confession to make,"
* * *
When I play the game, I have two goals in mind: Don't let the other team score, and hit people. Those two tend to go together, but I like to think of them as separate, makes it more fun that way. People always said I'd never make a good defenseman because of my size. And let's face it, you don't see a whole lot of 5'10" defensemen out there. But I vowed to prove them wrong, and I like to think I've done a good job so far. I play the game with passion, and that's what makes me so good. But that's also what makes my bad days. One in particular I'll never forget.
It was late March and we were on a road trip to Detroit to play the Red Wings. We'd long since been anywhere near playoff contention, while the Wings had clinched the President's Trophy about 10 wins ago. The game didn't matter to either team, but we were still determined to beat them, if only for the bragging rights. Everyone played their hearts out, and I personally hit more in that game than I think I ever have. Normally that would be okay, good even, but at this place, and this time, it was the total opposite.
It was early in the third period, and Beechie was taking a face-off in their zone against Yzerman. Yzerman won it, and passed it back to Lidstrom, who passed it to #3 (forgive me, I can't remember unimportant people's names) who then passed it up the boards back to Yzerman. As Yzerman skated up the ice, I knew this was my chance, so I ran at him and tackled him hard into the glass. He fell to the ice and I burst away with the puck back to their end. Just as I crossed the blue line, I heard the whistle blow and stopped in my tracks. I turned around and saw Yzerman laying on the ice where I'd hit him. I skated back toward him, but was stopped by an official before I got too close. The fans booed me loudly as their trainer came out and helped Yzerman off the ice. He glared at me as he walked off, and I just smiled. As I prepared to skate back to the bench, I felt a hand grab my shoulder. I sighed, expecting a penalty, and turned around. When I did, I wasn't greeted by a referee, but instead a rather pissed off looking Kirk Maltby.
"You're going to pay for that," He said angrily, turning and skating away.
I chuckled and skated back toward the bench. His threat didn't bother me in the least; I'd been threatened by a lot scarier guys than Kirk Maltby before. Anyone in the league knows that's what he does anyway, tries to piss you off bad enough so you'll nail him and get the penalty. Today, he'd have no such luck. Any other day, I probably wouldn't hesitate. I skated back to the bench and the rest of the game flew by unremarkably. We lost 4-3, the fourth goal being pretty much my fault. We watched the Wings celebrate from the bench, and as I started to walk back, Maltby skated by the bench and shot me a glare. I flipped him off and stomped off back to the locker room.
The locker room was eerily quiet. But then again, it usually was after a loss. No one said much of anything, especially to me. Beechie talked to me long enough to tell me he was going out with some of the others, and he probably wouldn't be back to the room until late. I nodded, and went back to stripping off my gear. I took the quickest possible shower, and got dressed in such a hurry, I skipped at least two buttons. I couldn't handle the silent stares from my teammates, I just wanted to get out of there and be depressed back in my hotel room.
Those plans were averted the second I stepped onto my floor. I glanced down the hall to my room and saw two people standing in front of my door. I couldn't tell who they were from where I stood, so I pulled my hotel key from my pocket and walked toward my room. When I reached the door, I jumped back when I saw who was standing there. Wearing a black leather jacket, Kirk Maltby stood next to Steve Yzerman, who looked to be wearing an identical jacket, except instead of actually wearing it, it laid across on arm, and the white of a sling showed through. My throat tightened up and I took another step back, prepared to fight for my life if I had to.
"I told you you were going to pay for what you did to him," Maltby laughed, stepping closer to me.
What happened next was such a blur, I barely remember what happened. I remember Maltby lunging at me and grabbing me by the collar. The next thing I knew, I was in my room and handcuffed to my bed. I never tried to really fight back, and I don't really know why that was. I put up enough of a struggle to make it look like I wasn't going willingly. In all reality, I was kind of anxious to see what they two of them were planning.
Yzerman let his jacket slip off, then shot me a cold glare. Maltby giggled and guided Yzerman down into the chair next to the bed. My jaw dropped when he straddled him in the chair and drove his lips onto Steve's. I tried to fight it, but I felt that stirring in my jeans. I screamed at myself to look away, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. All I kept thinking was "I always figured it was Shanahan."
When they broke their kiss, Maltby de-straddled him, then turned to me. He grinned at me, and the first thing that crossed my mind was how hot he looked. I tried to tell myself that this was the guy that attacked and handcuffed me to a bed, I shouldn't be thinking that. But the brain just wasn't listening. I watched intently as he removed his leather jacket and tossed it onto Beechie's bed, leaving his torso clad in just a tight blue t-shirt. My eyes traveled down his chest, capturing the detail of every muscle. My cock was becoming rapidly harder, making an obvious tent in my jeans. Maltby noticed and smirked. He sat beside me on the bed and grazed his hand softly over my crotch. I bit my lip to stifle a moan.
"You know, that was a dirty thing you did to Stevie earlier," He spoke softly, trailing his finger down the buttons on my shirt. "Look at his poor little arm,"
He looked at Yzerman and jutted out his bottom lip. Yzerman smiled at him, and I swear you could see the electricity between them. Steve nodded, then flashed me a glare. Kirk giggled then returned his attention to me. He brushed his hand against my cheek then leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips. A shiver coursed down my spine.
"We don't take kindly to people hurting Stevie. And for that, you must be punished,"
"Why don't you show him how we punish people, baby?" Steve asked, grinning at me.
My pulse began to race in anticipation. Maltby's hands returned to the buttons on my shirt and slowly he pulled them apart. When he finished, he pushed the fabric from my chest. He looked on appraisingly, then traced around my tattoo with his finger. Goosebumps formed on my skin, and I heard Kirk laugh softly. He sat up and pulled his t-shirt off, bringing into view a tight frame decorated with fading, splotchy bruises. He handed his shirt to Yzerman, then crawled up the bed. He brought his lips to mine and kissed me softly, barely any pressure behind his lips. His hand drifted slowly up my chest until he reached my nipple. He took the nub between his fingers and massaged it softly. My dick was straining painfully against my jeans, but I could do nothing about it. I whimpered lightly as he took his hand from my nipple. He sat up and looked down at me. He ran his fingers through my hair and smiled.
"You're so cute. It's too bad we have to punish you now," He looked down at me and shrugged his shoulders.
As I stared at him, so perfectly toned, muscles rippling anywhere my eyes looked, I wanted nothing more than for him to continue what he was doing. I made eye contact with him and took a deep breath.
"Maybe I could apologize?" I asked nervously.
He grinned then turned back to Steve. "What do you say, Stevie? Should we let him try and apologize?"
Yzerman pushed himself out of his chair with his good arm then stared down at me. He glanced at Kirk with a smile, then nodded. "It's worth a shot,"
Kirk stood and their lips met again. Kirk's hands drifted to Steve's waist, and he quickly unfastened his jeans. He untucked Steve's shirt and pushed it slowly over his head. He slid it gently down his slinged arm, then tossed it onto the chair. He brought his lips to Steve's neck and kissed softly at the skin, working in a descending motion. He planted kisses down the bare skin of his slinged arm, inching closer to the ground with each kiss. When he reached the hand, he dropped to his knees and grinned up at Steve. Steve smiled and brushed his other hand through Kirk's hair. I couldn't control my own moan as Kirk seductively slipped a digit into his mouth. Steve grinned and ran his fingers through Kirk's hair as Kirk continued slowly sucking on the finger. He let the finger slip from his mouth, then put his hands at Steve's hips. With a smirk, he quickly pushed pants and boxers down. My cock throbbed painfully as my eyes took in the pure beauty that is Steve Yzerman. I was ready to rip my arms out of the handcuffs as Maltby grasped Steve's dick in his hand and leaned toward it with his mouth. Thankfully for me, Steve stopped him before Kirk had a chance to take him into his mouth.
"You have all the time in the world for that, kitten," Steve laughed, grinning down at Maltby. "He's got to apologize first,"
Kirk nodded and got to his feet. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a key chain. He unlocked the handcuffs and I sat up on the bed, gripping my wrists. He turned to me and frowned sadly. A smart man would run away and call security. But me, I just sat there staring into the eyes of a guy who handcuffed me to a bed with the express purpose of punishing me. I don't think I could've ran away even if I wanted to, his eyes had a hold on me. Kirk reached over and grabbed one of my arms. He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed softly around the wrist. I don't know what it was about that, but it made me even harder. When he finished with my wrist he looked up at me and smiled.
"Time to apologize," He said with a grin, turning to Yzerman and beckoning him over with a finger.
Yzerman shook his head and grasped his dick in his hand. "Not yet. Why don't you get him primed first,"
Kirk grinned happily and in a flash he was straddling my hips. He pushed his lips heatedly onto mine. His lips parted, inviting me entrance, which I gladly accepted. Our tongues writhed lustfully together, shooting sensations straight to my cock. I thrust my hips against him, hoping desperately he'd get the hint. He did, and pulled away from me with a smile on his face.
"I love a man who knows what he wants,"
He unstraddled me and knelt on the bed. He placed his hands at my waist, and my dick throbbed in response. Slowly, he released the fly and pushed back the fabric. The tent in my boxers was now in full view, and Kirk looked on appreciatively. I glanced over at Yzerman and saw him slowly jerking his cock. I watched him intently, my dick throbbing with each stroke. He grinned at me and I gasped as I felt a hot mouth surround my dick. How Kirk managed to get my dick out without me feeling I'd never know, but I was in too much pleasure to care. The skill of his mouth was amazing. He seemed to know how to pleasure every inch of my flesh, and squeeze low moans out of me with every movement. Instinctively, my hand found his head and I ran my fingers through his hair as he continued his blissful torture of my cock. My eyes flicked back to Yzerman and I watched him as his hand slowly moved along his dick. I could see his precum glistening from the head. He smirked at me, and brushed his fingers along the head, soaking them with precum. I moaned loudly as he brought his fingers to mouth and licked them clean. He laughed, and brought his hand back to his cock. My eyes were now glued on him. He stroked his cock with two quick jerks, then pulled his hand away.
"All right, time for my apology," He stated, pointing as his cock.
Kirk's mouth slipped from me and he sat up on the bed. He grinned happily at me and wiped his mouth. He glanced over at Yzerman's cock, then glanced back to me. A lump formed in my throat as I slowly slid toward the edge of the bed. It was a nerve-wracking situation, it's not every day you get to go down on Steve Yzerman. And if I didn't apologize correctly, lord knows what my punishment could be. I took a deep breath as I dropped to my knees in front of him. Beechie had never complained about my head giving skills, so here's hoping that was for a reason, and not just him being nice. I grasped Steve's dick in my hands, and he hissed softly.
"Your hands are cold," He spoke, his eyes jammed shut.
"I'm sorry," I said nervously, taking my hand away and rubbing them together.
"That's what you're here for, now get to work," He ordered, glaring down at me.
I nodded and brought my hand back to his dick. There was no hissing this time, so I took that as a good sign and started stroking him slowly. The leaking precum allowed my hand to slip easily along his shaft, coaxing quiet moans from him. I took another deep breath, and slowly brought my lips toward his dick. I licked tentatively along the underside, marveling at the sweet but salty taste. His hand slipped into my hair, and he gripped it softly. With gentle force, he pushed my head closer to his cock. I got the hint, and let the head slip past my lips. He moaned loudly as slowly I took all of him into my mouth, until his balls rested on my chin. I quickly established a bobbing rhythm, and properly began my apology. Steve's hands stayed nestled in my hair, and he forcelessly guided me on his cock. Then suddenly I felt a warm sensation at my anus and moaned around Steve's cock. Steve opened his eyes and glanced down with a smile.
"Good job Kirkie, get him ready," He breathed, pushing my head back down his cock.
I knew then where the sensation was coming from, and couldn't keep from moaning around Steve's dick as Maltby tongued my opening. My actions on Steve's cock became jerkier because of the sensations shooting from my anus. But I must've still been doing good, as Steve continued to moan and run his fingers gently through my hair. I brought my hands up and cupped his balls, rolling them between my fingers. I could tell he was close, so I sped my motions up. With the head earlier, and now the rim job, I too was getting close. I let Steve's cock slip from my mouth until just the head remained, and began to jerk the rest with my hands. He moaned loudly and began to thrust into my mouth. Then just as I thought he reached his end, he pulled me from his dick.
"Get on the bed, now," He demanded.
I was beyond the mood to argue. I had a feeling what was coming, and I wanted it more than anything in that very moment. I got up from the floor and laid back on the bed. Maltby joined me quickly, and straddled my chest. He was near enough to where just the head of his dick was near my lips, and I tongued at it lustfully. He whimpered, and leaned forward so the head slipped past my lips. I sucked at it eagerly, his hands slipping into my hair. He was blocking my sight, but my hunches were confirmed when I felt my legs being lifted. They rested on Steve's shoulders, and I felt him poking at my opening. Kirk's cock slipped from my mouth, and I watched him move down my body, stopping just above my cock. He leaned back, and I watched him and Steve share a passionate kiss. My dick got increasingly harder as I watched these two gorgeous beings make out in front of me. When they broke apart, Steve put his lips to Kirk's neck and nipped at it, leaving a bright pink mark when he pulled away. Kirk grinned and lifted himself just slightly from my body.
Then, in what I can only call synchronized luck, Steve thrust into me and Kirk jammed himself down on my shaft at the exact same time. I screamed out, and for a second I thought I may've died from the sudden pleasure/pain. But as I felt Steve start to thrust in, I was reminded that I was very much alive. I whimpered as he thrust, and looked up at Kirk. He grinned down at me and slowly started riding my dick. The pain from Steve was quickly overridden with the pleasure from Kirk. He leaned down and started pinching at my nipples, shooting even more pleasure through my body. Then suddenly, a shiver shot down my spine, and I knew where that had come from. I glanced at Steve through pleasure-slanted eyes, and he grinned. He slipped his hand around the trim waist of Kirk and gripped his cock. Kirk started moaning softly, pinching harder at my nipples. The contrast from pleasure to pain quickly became too much for me, and I could feel my orgasm creeping up slowly.
I buried my hands in the sheets and started moaning as the two of them gave me more pleasure than I'd ever felt in my life. I was the first to lose it, screaming out loudly and shooting deep inside Kirk. Kirk was next, reaching orgasm with a gasp and shooting onto my chest. He quickly pulled off from my dick and brought his mouth to my chest. He tongued my chest slowly, lapping up his cum. Steve continued to thrust into me as Kirk continued tonguing my chest, even after his cum was gone. He traced around my tattoo with his tongue, and I moaned at the feeling. Then with one final thrust, Steve exploded deep inside me. He gave one last thrust, the pulled out of me with a hiss. He crawled up the bed and sat down beside me. He leaned down and pushed his lips onto mine, zapping what little passion left in my body with a simple kiss. Then he laid down and turned onto his side, his back facing me.
"Apology accepted," He yawned, gripping the pillow and adjusting it under his head.
I laughed lightly, following it up with a yawn of my own. I inched up the bed so my head was on the other pillow. Maltby crawled up beside me and pulled me onto my side. He slipped his arm around my back and brought his lips to mine. Like earlier, his kisses were soft, almost romantic. We laid like that, kissing softly, caressing each other's bare skin, until we both fell asleep from pure exhaustion.
* * *
"That was a pretty damned good punishment," Andrew Ference said with a grin. "I woke up before the two of them did, and started plotting about checking one of them the next game, just to get some more punishment. I never got to that point though, because Beechie showed up...."
The camera flashes yellow, and Natalyn reappears on the couch. She takes one last sip of her wine, emptying the crystal goblet, then sets it on the table beside her. She looks at the camera with a smile.
"How does Mr. Beech react to seeing his best friend in bed with two hot, sweaty Red Wings?" She asked with a sly smirk on her face. "You know us, we wouldn't even bring it up if it didn't yield a trip to the Confessional. But unfortunately, we're out of time for this week. I guess you'll just have to tune in next time to see what happens, now won’t you?" She giggles and grabs the wine glass from the table. "Until next to my smutaholics, I'm Natalyn Moore, and this has been Confessions."
The camera follows Natalyn briefly as she walks away from the couch. The camera then slowly pans to the left until it reaches the Confessional, illuminated in bright white light. Suddenly the lights shut off, blackening the screen. The screen flashes red, and the closing credits begin to scroll.
TBC
© 2002 Triple X
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