Love Slave for Two Collection [Box Set 7]
Tyler shook his head.
“Sounds like we’re going to have fun then. Let’s eat.”
Dinner felt surreal. Oot sat and ate with them. When they finished, Ray left the table for a moment and returned with something in his hand. “Okay, Ty. For the weekend, unless you decide you want to end the fun earlier, you’re going to be our boy. Mine and Oot’s, to play with. Is that what you’re agreeing to?”
Tyler nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Stand up.”
Tyler complied. Ray stepped behind him, and Tyler felt him fasten something around his neck. He reached up and touched it, a soft, supple, leather collar with a buckle.
“This is a play collar,” Ray explained. “It’s not locked, so if you had to, you could remove it yourself at any time. But while you’re here playing, you keep that on. Unless we’re in the pool or shower,” he joked. “Then it’s okay to take it off.”
Oot walked over and snagged the front ring of the collar with a finger, pulled Tyler close, and deeply kissed him. “Looks good on you. Master doesn’t usually collar my playmates. This’ll be fun!”
“Ground rules for everyone,” Ray said. “Ty, you call me and Oot ‘Sir’ as you’ve been doing. I’m not your Master, so you don’t call me that. You follow orders from me and from Oot. My orders take priority, of course. You’re not allowed to make yourself come without permission. In fact, you’re not allowed to come at all without permission. Otherwise, you will be punished. We will use you this weekend, but when we fuck you, we’ll use condoms. If you’re a good boy, I might let you do some fucking, too. Strip.”
Oot took Tyler’s clothes from him as he removed them. He left with them and returned with something. “Put this on.” The leather G-string fit snugly over his raging hard-on. Oot squeezed Tyler’s package as he helped him adjust the fit. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous. Please, can I let him fuck me, Master?”
Ray laughed. “I told you, if he’s good.” He circled Tyler, running his hands over his ass, around his front to his cock, where he squeezed. “Help Oot clean up the dishes. When you two finish, meet me in the playroom.”
The playroom was a large den. A padded bench similar to the one at the party sat in the center. On one wall, a shelf held various implements: crops, whips, canes, floggers, and a variety of wicked-looking things Tyler wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they did.
He had a suspicion he might be finding out.
Ray let Oot cuff Tyler’s hands and wrists and hook him up to the bench. The difference in Oot’s touch with the implements was immediately apparent to Tyler. He took his time, used his hands to caress and squeeze Tyler’s flesh, delivered far less sting. Within twenty minutes, Tyler didn’t care that he was begging to come.
Ray knelt in front of him while Oot used a soft flogger on Tyler’s ass. “You want to come already? You’re just begging to be used this weekend, aren’t you?
“Yes, please!” The restrictive leather G-string had only added to his torment. Every movement of his hips added even more torturously pleasant friction.
The doorbell rang. The other two men seemed to anticipate it, but it shocked Tyler back from his heady state.
“Ooh, there’s kitten!” Oot said.
“You stay here with him,” Ray ordered. “I’ll be right back.” Oot stepped up his ministrations, quickly settling Tyler back into subspace. He was vaguely aware of people entering the room and a woman’s voice.
“Strip, kitten,” an unfamiliar voice commanded.
Ray spoke. “Oot, hold up for a moment.”
Tyler gasped as the activities stopped, allowing him a moment to gather his thoughts. Ray knelt in front of him again. “Daddy Saul is loaning us kitten for the weekend because he’s going out of town and doesn’t want her to get into trouble. Do you want to play with her?”
Tyler struggled to form vowels. “Okay.”
“You’ll get to top her when I say so, but she won’t top you. She’s a total bottom.”
“Okay.”
Ray ruffled his hair. “Get that G-string off him.”
Tyler felt hands remove the G-string.
The other man’s voice spoke. “Well, get your head down there, girl. Use that mouth for what it’s made for.”
Tyler felt hair brush his thighs, then…
His eyes rolled back into his head at the feel of soft, hot, silky lips engulfing his cock.
Ray laughed. “In this case, Tyler, you don’t need permission to come. Not that you could hold back anyway. She’s a total cock sucking slut. Have at him, kitten.”
Oot started in on Tyler again with a paddle, and it only took seconds for Tyler to explode in kitten’s mouth with a loud cry. He was aware of a happy female moan, but she didn’t release him, kept sucking, deep-throating him past the point of release until he grew hard again.
Hands caressed his back, his thighs, his ass. He was vaguely aware of Ray showing the other man out, then returning.
Oot groaned. “He’s got such a nice ass. Please, Master?”
“We won’t get anything else accomplished this weekend if I don’t let you fuck him now, will we?”
“Probably not, Master.”
“Oh, all right, fine. Go get a condom and lube.” He ran his hand through Tyler’s hair, caressing, gentle, not pulling it. “Haven’t had a good spit roast in a while. Don’t stop what you’re doing, kitten. Your owner gave me permission to whip your ass if I need to.”
She moaned around Tyler’s cock, the sensation making him moan in reply.
Ray laughed. “Gotta love that sound.”
Tyler was aware of Oot’s gentle hands working cool lube into his ass, Ray’s hands on his head, and the feel of kitten’s hot mouth on his cock. Even if he could have moved, he would have fought anyone tooth and nail had they tried to make him get up.
“Ever been the center, Tyler?” Ray asked. Tyler wasn’t sure what he meant, was pretty sure the answer was currently no, but was only seconds away from finding out.
Ray stripped off his shirt, then dropped his shorts and stepped out of them, leaving his stiff cock waving in the air. He wasn’t as long as Marcus, but he was thicker around. As he stepped forward, he cupped Tyler’s chin. “You’re not going to be able to talk, so three long, loud grunts will mean red, two mean yellow, one means green. Okay?”
Tyler strained to reach the cock in front of him. “Yes!”
Ray chuckled as he slipped his cock between Tyler’s lips. Oot rolled a condom on and slid his modest cock inside Tyler, driving another loud, long moan out of him. He was close to coming again.
“Oh, fuck! Master, he’s great!”
Tyler wasn’t sure where to focus his attention. What was being done to him felt better than great, and he loved what he was doing. After instincts told him Oot and kitten probably didn’t need his help, he turned his full attention to Ray.
Ray sucked in a long, deep breath. “Dammit, Oot, he’s almost as good as kitten.”
“Really? Oh, man, I can’t wait to feel that!”
“You’ll have to. I’m not letting go of this boy’s head until I shoot a load down his throat.”
Even though Tyler felt like a fuck toy, he couldn’t explain the difference in how this was better than he’d ever felt with Marcus.
Much better. They were focused on his pleasure as much as he was focused on theirs, not the one sided take-and-take he’d felt with Marcus.
He attacked Ray’s cock with as much enthusiasm as he could. When kitten made Tyler come a second time, he started bucking his hips against Oot’s cock, wanting him in deeper, harder, faster.
It didn’t take Ray long to come. He held himself inside Tyler’s mouth, ordering him to swallow. Oot soon followed, leaving the room and quickly returning after disposing of the condom.
Tyler trembled, sweaty, all strength gone from his limbs, and still kitten was latched onto his cock.
“Okay, kitten. Stand down, girl. Corner.”
With a pouty look, she kissed
Tyler’s cock, licked his balls, and retreated to a large pillow in a corner of the room.
Oot unhooked Tyler and helped him sit up. “You okay?”
He nodded, unable to speak. Ray brought him a glass of water, which he gratefully accepted and downed.
“Well, how’d you enjoy your first spit roast?”
He laughed, his soul feeling lighter than it had since the night Marcus left. “Wow.”
Oot grinned and hugged him. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d say that.”
* * * *
Ray had a large bed. Late that night and totally exhausted, the four fell asleep, Ray in the center, surrounded by Oot and Tyler, with kitten lying at the foot of the bed. Ray had explained her husband and owner, Daddy Saul, had health problems. He loved her, she loved him, but he couldn’t get it up anymore and had no interest in trying. But he didn’t want to deny her sex, either. Ray and Oot were more than happy to provide her with their services, usually on weekends when Saul had to go out of town on business.
Happy endings for everyone.
The next morning, Tyler was still trying to wrap his head around the dynamic while he helped Oot make breakfast. Then kitten walked into the kitchen.
Ray didn’t even look up from where he read the paper at the table. “Cock, kitten. Tyler.” He picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip.
Tyler nearly fell over as the woman dropped to her knees in front of him and swallowed his cock. He grabbed onto the counter for support as Oot laughed. “Gotta love kitten’s dedication to duty.”
“You can come, Ty,” Ray said, still reading the paper. “She’s better than a fucking vacuum cleaner.”
He wasn’t kidding. Her skilled mouth quickly brought him over as his knees trembled from the force of his release. If it wasn’t for the counter, he would have sunk to the floor in a puddle of flesh. When she finished she sat up, smiled, and licked her lips.
“How is she, Ty?”
He nodded. “Bloody wonderful.”
By the time he left Ray’s house late Sunday afternoon, he’d been fucked and sucked in more positions than he ever dreamed possible. And he’d gotten to fuck both kitten and Oot. Ray had enjoyed the pleasure of his ass, both fucking it and whipping it.
He drew himself a hot bath and soaked, easing his sore muscles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to come that many times in that short a period of time. He also realized how at home he’d felt in both roles, as a top learning how to use some of the implements like floggers and canes on kitten while she was strapped to the bench, as well as bottoming to Ray and Oot.
His brain hurt, as did his ass, but his heart and soul felt better than they had in a long, long time.
* * * *
Tyler felt his slide toward something deeper than friendly fucking. Ray insisted at the beginning, during their first talks, that honesty was a priority. After his third weekend at Ray’s house, when it was just the three men, he talked to Ray privately about it.
“What do you want me to tell you, Tyler?” he asked.
He didn’t want to be hurt again. He didn’t want to let go of his heart just to be hurt.
He didn’t want to torture himself with a dead-end relationship.
“I don’t know.”
Ray shrugged. “We’re poly, you know that. But we’re not looking for another primary relationship. I’m sorry. If you want to stay friends and fuck buddies, I’m all for that, and so is Oot, but that’s all we can give you right now.”
Tyler had known, but he needed to hear it so his mind could drive the memo home to his heart and soul and force him to make the break sooner rather than later. “I know.”
“I hope we didn’t mislead you.”
Tyler shook his head. “No, you both have been wonderful. It’s not you, it’s me.”
“Did you want to leave early this weekend?”
Tyler forced a smile. Might as well enjoy the time while he had it, because he knew he couldn’t allow himself to indulge in it again or it would mean more self-inflicted mental woundings. “No, I want to have fun.”
Ray smiled. “Atta boy.”
* * * *
Pete looked across the table. “Geez, Ty. You in or out?”
Tyler slapped his cards on the table and stood, grabbed his glass, and headed for the kitchen. “Fold.”
A moment later, Eddie followed him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Tyler angrily tossed ice cubes into his glass and made himself another drink. “Fine and dandy.”
“Then why are you acting so angry? Is this about Marcus?”
Tyler deflated. He leaned against the counter. “I’m just tired, Eddie. Really.” He was angry.
At himself.
At the world.
At fate and everything and nothing. It had been more than a month since he’d last seen or talked to Ray and Oot, and he hated that he missed them like fucking crazy.
Hated that, despite how heartsick it made him feel, he missed Marcus.
He hadn’t said anything to his friends about the Ray-Oot interlude in his life or the three missed poker games. He’d assured Bob and Terry it was just time he needed to work on edits and do research and grade papers.
Eddie wouldn’t understand. In fact, telling Eddie any of his troubles practically guaranteed Eddie would try to fix them.
“I’m fine, mate. Truly. I just need a vacation, I think.”
“You can always talk to me and Pete if you need an ear.”
Tyler nodded. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Tyler hadn’t anticipated spending the night there, but four rum and Cokes later, Pete confiscated his keys and pointed toward the guest room. “Don’t want to see your limey ass until morning, Ty. Go pass out. Just don’t puke on the comforter. It’s new.”
When Tyler awoke around noon the next day with the worst hangover of his life, he saw with a little shame that one of the men—probably Eddie, if forced to guess—had gone to his apartment and picked him up a few things. A change of clothes, his razor, toothbrush.
He stumbled into the attached bathroom and stood under the shower. When he emerged twenty minutes later, he found someone had set a steaming mug of black coffee on the counter, along with a bottle of Tylenol.
The smile twisted his mouth despite his throbbing head. He’d never noticed anyone came in. Eddie, for sure.
He sighed as he sipped the hot black nectar and washed down two capsules. Why couldn’t he find someone like Eddie, a man or a woman? Why couldn’t he find someone like Pete even, who would appreciate his efforts?
He turned on the exhaust fan and waited for the mirror to clear so he could shave. What was he doing wrong? Was he giving too much of himself? Was he too needy?
Maybe he needed to start focusing on himself instead of everyone else for a while.
Tyler felt a little more human when he walked out to the kitchen after dressing. Eddie sat at the counter, reading the paper. “Hey. You okay?”
Tyler nodded and refilled his mug. “Thanks for the clothes, mate. And the coffee. Pete’s a lucky man.”
Eddie smiled. “One day you’ll find the right person. Don’t rush it. Look at Pete. He went through how many women and wives before we met?”
At least Tyler hadn’t had children with Erin. That was one sad, mixed thought. No children to fight over or miss or mourn.
No children in his life.
No one to read to or take to museums or teach how to cook.
No one.
A memory of himself as a boy, standing in the kitchen with his father while he taught him how to cook, flashed to mind. He angrily pushed it away. Even his own father apparently didn’t think he was good enough to keep in his life.
Eddie shoved a plate of bagels toward him. “Pete and I want you to spend the weekend here. Please? You look like hell. Chill out, relax.”
Tyler started to protest, then resigned. “All right. Why not? A weekend might be what I need to jump-start my brain anyway.”
Pete had gone in to his gallery for the afternoon to work. Eddie wanted to hit the grocery store and drove Tyler home to pick up a few extra things. Tyler started to reach for his laptop, then decided against it. He opted for a couple of notebooks of scribbled ideas, some pens, his swim trunks, and two changes of clothes.
Eddie was happy to see he left the computer behind. “Good! You won’t hole yourself up in your room all weekend.” Tyler spent the afternoon on the lanai next to the pool, Eddie taking time to chat with him every so often, then leaving him alone to work.
Pete and Eddie took him out to dinner with a group of their friends. For the first time in weeks, Tyler almost felt normal. He didn’t think about Marcus or Ray or Oot or anything else except enjoying the company of his good friends. The next evening, they gathered around Pete and Eddie’s TV to watch Eddie’s favorite show, a celebrity ballroom dancing competition.
Tyler had done a little dancing while still in school, as part of drama classes. He’d enjoyed it.
Eddie seemed tuned into his thoughts. “There you go, Ty. You should go take dance classes. Get you out of your funk. You might even meet someone.” Leave it to Eddie to try to turn the most mundane of activities into a speed dating event.
“Leave him alone,” Pete growled. “He’s had a rough time.”
But the idea intrigued Tyler. He looked into it and signed up for classes. Two weeks later he was partnered with a woman in his class, trying not to step on her feet while mastering the foxtrot. She was very nice, very sweet, and very married. While she did hint her marriage wasn’t the best in the world, Tyler had his fill of drama to last a lifetime and resisted her not-so-subtle double entendres.
The teacher was also very nice and frequently used Tyler for her demonstrations. One evening, she took great pains to introduce her sister, who’d come to pick her up.