Love Slave for Two Collection [Box Set 7]

by Tymber Dalton

  Tyler had to arrange his stiff cock as he once again stretched out over Marcus’ thighs. The man caressed his ass. “Such a sweet ass. I’m having so much fun with you, boy. You have no idea. I’m so glad Terry talked me into coming to visit.”

  More lube, and Tyler tried to hold his hips still as the larger plug slid home.

  “There you go, boy.” Marcus helped him sit up and planted a deep kiss on his lips. “Now you know what to do.” He lay back and folded his arms behind his head.

  Tyler knelt between his legs and took his time worshipping the man’s cock, listened to his coaching, losing himself in the sensations of what it did to him and what he knew he was doing to the other man.

  Tyler slid the man’s cock down his throat, making him moan and clutch his head. “Jesus—yes!” Tyler closed his eyes and swallowed what felt like a quart of hot come as the man’s hips jerked and bucked beneath him. When Marcus finished, he didn’t release his grip on Tyler’s head.

  Tyler held the man’s now-limp cock in his mouth, gently suckling, softly stroking it with his tongue.

  “Boy,” Marcus said, his voice hoarse, “you are one of a kind.” He pulled Tyler up to him, as he had the night before, spooning his body against him before taking Tyler’s cock in his hand.

  “You earned another reward, boy. Come when you want.” Marcus brought him over. Again Tyler licked his seed from the other man’s hand before getting up to remove the butt plug.

  When he returned to bed, Marcus kissed the top of Tyler’s head as they prepared to go to sleep. “Sleep well, boy. You’ll need it tomorrow.”

  * * * *

  Tyler followed Marcus’ instructions to the letter the next day, wondering if there was a chance he might pass out from the excitement at some point during the afternoon. His heart raced, his cock throbbed. It felt like he had to remind himself to breathe.

  His ass reminded him of the night’s events every time he shifted position, the larger butt plug securely in place.

  He didn’t look up from his position on the floor when Marcus arrived right on time. He let Tyler spend a few minutes sucking him as a reward before they had dinner. Tyler’s hands trembled as he washed dishes, wondering how in hell Marcus could act so calm while he was a nervous wreck.

  Tyler removed and washed the butt plug as ordered, then joined Marcus in the bedroom. The older man pointed to the floor, a stern look on his face. For a moment, Tyler wondered if he’d done something wrong.

  “I’m going to take that virgin ass tonight, boy. No going back.”

  Tyler nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “You have no idea how badly I wish I could ride you bareback and be the very first to shoot a load inside you. Unfortunately, we won’t have enough time together to let that happen.” Marcus, already naked, walked over and ran his fingers through Tyler’s hair. “If I was going to be here longer, I’d be able to let that happen.”

  Tyler shut off that line of thinking. Didn’t want to think about the inevitable good-bye in a few months. Wanted to focus on here and now and Marcus taking final, complete possession of him.

  “On the bed, boy. Hands and knees.”

  Tyler raced to comply. The familiar, cool lube, then Marcus slowly, deeply fucked him with the dildo. “I want you ready for me,” Marcus hoarsely said. “I want to pound my cock into that sweet ass, and I want it good and ready.”

  Tyler tried not to squirm, but it felt too good. Marcus reached between Tyler’s legs and grabbed his balls. “Did I tell you to fuck the toy, boy?”

  Tyler shook his head. “No, Sir,” he gasped.

  “I’m driving. You sit there and behave.” He thrust the toy deep, pulling it nearly all the way out, tormenting Tyler’s prostate along the way, before fucking him hard with it. “Don’t come, boy. Not until my cock is inside you.”

  Marcus fucked him with the toy until he was satisfied Tyler was ready. He pulled it out and slapped Tyler’s ass. “Go wash it. Hurry up, boy. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  Tyler returned less than a minute later, on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed.

  He felt the mattress dip behind him as Marcus knelt between his legs and nudged them wider apart. “Hold your ass open for me, boy.”

  Tyler reached back and pulled his cheeks apart, loudly moaning into the pillow when he felt a finger lubing his hole.

  Marcus drew in a sharp breath. “Is my boy ready?”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  He heard the rattle of foil, then a moment later felt a hot, hard, condom-clad cock pressed against his rim. Marcus gripped his hips. “This is my ass, boy. I own it. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Sir!” Tyler was nearly beyond conscious thought, much less coherent speech.

  Marcus viciously plunged deep, buried to the hilt, and held himself still. Tyler let out a cry and fisted his hands in the sheet.

  “My ass, boy,” Marcus grunted before he took another hard stroke, then held still again. “Say it.”

  “Your arse, Sir!”

  Tyler couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. A mix of pain and pleasure washed through him. Even the toys hadn’t prepared him for the feel of a living cock owning him.

  Marcus squeezed Tyler’s ass cheeks. “Such a sweet virgin ass,” he gasped. “And it’s all mine.” Marcus spanked Tyler, driving cries from him as he left angry red marks on Tyler’s flesh.

  “Beg for it, boy,” he ordered. “Beg for me to fuck you, and you can come for me.”

  “Please fuck me, Sir!” he cried out, sobbing. He wanted it, he wanted it over, he wanted it to never end. “Please fuck my arse!”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear!” Marcus grabbed his hips and viciously thrust, taking him, pounding his hips against Tyler’s ass, the slapping of flesh against flesh drowned out by Tyler’s plaintive cries. Tyler felt the man’s balls brush against his ass with every stroke, every ridge and vein of the man’s hard shaft sliding along his gland and almost driving him over the edge.

  “Stroke your cock, boy. I want to feel you come with my cock in your ass.”

  Tyler did, desperately pounding on his flesh as Marcus fucked him hard and fast.

  “Come for me now, or I will beat your ass within an inch of your life, boy!”

  Explosions went off behind Tyler’s eyes, the pleasure-pain in his ass setting off a cataclysmic release as his balls tightened and his muscles clenched around the cock fucking him.

  “Yes!” Marcus dug his fingers into Tyler’s hips and loudly grunted as he shook the bed with his thrusts. “Fuck yes!” With a final slam home, Tyler felt the man’s cock throb, releasing inside him. Almost as an afterthought, Marcus quickly withdrew and collapsed to the bed. “Fuck, yes, boy!”

  He’d lost his mind. That was the only explanation Tyler could think of behind the sudden lack of ability to form a coherent thought. Physically he’d climaxed, and his cock thanked him. His ass hadn’t weighed in with a decision yet, but it was quickly heading in the direction of what the fuck were you thinking? His heart…

  The instinctive, cold chill settling deep inside him didn’t bode well for how he’d look at himself in the mirror the next morning. He almost preferred the tender cuddling of the past two nights to…this.

  Marcus left the bed. Tyler heard water running in the bathroom and the toilet flush as he disposed of the condom. A moment later, the fridge opened and closed. Marcus returned with a soda and leaned against the bedroom doorway, smiling, cocky, proud of himself.

  “Well? Are we going to live, boy?”

  Tyler nodded, still trying to pull his mind back into some semblance of sanity.

  Marcus walked over and slapped him on the ass. “You were fantastic! Best ass I think I’ve ever had.”

  Tyler nodded.

  Marcus reached for his pants and started getting dressed.

  Tyler finally sat up. “What are you doing?”

  A dark shadow crossed Marcus’ face, then he shrugged. “I didn’t want to say anything before. Didn’t want to sp
oil our evening.”

  The chill deep inside Tyler became a full-out mental blizzard. “What?”

  He pulled his shirt on and looked at Tyler. “I received a call this morning after I left. From Brussels. One of the professors had a heart attack. They want me back to teach his classes this term. I’m catching a flight at three in the morning to New York. I certainly can use the money.”

  Tyler blinked. “When, exactly, were you planning on telling me this?”

  “I am, aren’t I?”

  The chill inside Tyler transformed into white-hot anger. “So you just…you just fuck me and leave, is that it?”

  A hard mask slipped over Marcus’ face. Or had it been there all along, Tyler too blind to see it? “Oh, come on, Tyler. You knew this wouldn’t last. It just didn’t last as long as we thought it would, that’s all. Don’t get all girly on me now.” He pulled his shoes on. “This was a lot of fun. You certainly enjoyed yourself.”

  Tyler’s face burned as he watched Marcus finish dressing. The older man stood in front of him. “You were great. I really do wish I could have spent more time with you.” He glanced at his watch. “Jean-Claude is meeting my plane at the airport back home.” Now Marcus had the decency to look embarrassed. Tyler knew that was his ex-boyfriend. “He wants another chance. I told him we could talk.”

  Tyler remained silent.

  Marcus leaned in and kissed him, tousled his hair. “I’ll let myself out. Take care of yourself, Tyler.”

  After the front door shut, Tyler sat there for a long moment, listening to the empty apartment, his ass burning and his heart frozen. When he started to stand he winced, then bolted for the bathroom where he spent an hour sitting next to the toilet, crying and throwing up.

  Chapter Nine

  “Two.” Tyler shed two cards and waited for Pete to deal. He knew he’d been more quiet than normal. His lack of discussion on the topic of Marcus was glaringly and unsettlingly obvious to all at the table.

  The other four men nervously looked at each other, then at Tyler. He didn’t want Bob and Terry’s pity. He knew they felt guilty, but he didn’t hold them accountable for the mess he’d gotten himself into. He didn’t even totally blame Marcus.

  He blamed himself.

  At the end of the hand, Tyler excused himself to the kitchen to refresh his drink. He’d agreed to Eddie’s request to spend the night and had brought an overnight bag.

  He could get himself as shitfaced as he wanted, and that’s exactly what he planned to do.

  Eddie cautiously approached him. “Are you okay, Ty?”

  “I’m fine, mate.” He splashed several fingers of bourbon over ice and added a little Coke to even it out. “Just brilliant. Why do you ask?”

  Eddie shook his head. “I’m sor—”

  “Don’t say it,” Tyler whispered, his control nearly frayed. He’d taken yesterday off, claiming stomach flu. Close enough, he couldn’t keep anything down until late that evening. He somehow managed to stay sane today, almost looking forward to the poker game as a way to escape.

  “I’m here if you want to talk, buddy.”

  Tyler nodded. Eddie left the kitchen. Tyler waited a moment before returning to the game.

  By the time they broke up around midnight, Tyler was well in the bag. Bob and Terry hugged him before they left.

  Terry looked at him. “We okay, Ty?”

  Tyler nodded and clapped Bob on the back. “Right as rain, gents. Never fear.”

  He awoke the next morning with a hellacious hangover and the smell of bacon fueling both his hunger and his nausea. He washed his face and stumbled out to the kitchen. Pete sat at the table, reading the paper, while Eddie cooked.

  “There’s the lush,” Pete teased. “I thought you guys had iron constitutions for drinking?”

  “I’m not Irish, mate,” Tyler groused as he slipped into a chair.

  He gratefully accepted coffee and breakfast from them, but before noon he returned home and stared at the empty apartment. Seized by a sudden urge, he grabbed a large garbage bag and emptied the fridge of everything even remotely related to the meals he’d cooked for Marcus. To the bathroom, where he tossed the toys and lube. He stripped the sheets even though he’d already done it the morning after Marcus left, remade the bed, opened all the windows, and aired the place out. By the time he collapsed at midnight from exhaustion he had a spotless apartment, a raging headache, a still-sore ass, and a hole in his heart even larger than the one put there by Erin.

  It didn’t change a thing. It didn’t change the truths.

  He was submissive. He did want someone to take care of him while he served them, doted upon them. He wanted someone to recognize and value him and let him be who he was.

  Anger slowly set in, and he tried to force it back. It wasn’t fucking fair. Women wanted a man to be sensitive and caring and attentive. When he was just that, he got slammed for it. When he found a man who appreciated him for his instinctive nature, he was used and discarded without a second thought.

  He couldn’t sleep. He started surfing the Internet, rambling, meaningless searches that led him to a website he’d never heard of.

  FetLife.com

  Hmm.

  There turned out to be quite a lot of local Tampa people in the “scene” or “lifestyle,” as he discovered it was called. Profiles varied from nearly vanilla to far-out extreme.

  Including quite a few profiles of men and women looking for “boys.”

  Marcus’ voice floated to him. He angrily shoved it down. Maybe he’d looked in the wrong place for what he needed. What he craved.

  He created a profile.

  * * * *

  The next morning, he had three private messages on his account. One was a generic welcome message, one from a woman looking for a whipping boy—literally—and one from the leader of a local Munch group, whatever that was, introducing himself.

  Three days later, he’d “met” quite a few local people online and decided to attend the Munch that Saturday afternoon, a vanilla gathering held at a local restaurant where people could meet and mingle in a low-stress environment. One man in particular, a bisexual Dominant, had caught Tyler’s eye. Only four years older than himself, they seemed to have a lot in common.

  They agreed to meet at the Munch. Ray stood only two inches taller than him and had gorgeous hazel eyes that picked up the dark colors in his natural blond hair. They spent most of the Munch talking to each other about any and everything except the thing Tyler was most curious about. Before they parted company, Ray offered Tyler his cell number.

  “Let’s get together and talk again this week. If you’re interested.”

  Tyler nodded and gave him his number in return. “Yes, thank you.”

  * * * *

  They met again for dinner before Ray ever allowed the conversation to turn to more private matters. “What exactly are you looking for?”

  He had Tyler there. Ty shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “Then why don’t you tell me what experience you have.”

  Tyler blushed. “Not much.”

  After careful coaxing, Ray learned some of Tyler’s secrets. Not all, but enough. “So you’re not into age play, but you like the Daddy/boy dynamic. Is that right?”

  He might as well have been speaking Greek. “I’m not sure. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s okay,” Ray reassured him with a smile. “That’s why open communication is very important.” They spent two hours talking. The next day they talked nearly three hours on the phone. Ray invited him to a private party that weekend. “You don’t have to do anything. You can just come and watch or talk or whatever. Or if you feel up to playing, we can work out a scene.”

  Tyler wasn’t entirely sure he knew what that meant, but talking and watching, that he could do.

  The private house was situated on a heavily wooded plot of land in northeast Hillsborough County. People wanting entrance had to stop at the electric gate and talk to someone over the intercom, where thei
r place on the guest list was verified before they were allowed in.

  Tyler found Ray waiting for him outside a large barn. He wore jeans, a black button-up shirt, and a leather vest. He hefted a large duffel bag and shook hands with Tyler. “Ready?”

  Tyler, who’d worn jeans and a black button-up shirt as suggested, nervously nodded. “Not sure I’m ready, mate, but I’ll follow you.”

  “Just remember, no means no. We take that seriously.”

  Tyler followed him inside. In the foyer, a chipper, older woman wore a leather bustier that squeezed her breasts out the top, exposing her pierced nipples. Over the top of that, she wore a sheer, lacy black top that was more a “why bother” fashion statement in Tyler’s mind. He filled out a confidentiality form, showed them his ID to prove his age, handed over a twenty for a “donation,” and followed Ray through a black curtain into the next room.

  The changing room resembled locker rooms he’d seen at the university, except normally you didn’t see women dressing in skintight leather garments, or men dressing up as women, or men undressing and putting on things that looked not only uncomfortable, but downright painful, around their nether regions.

  Ray grabbed a locker and stowed his bag. “I won’t need that until later.” He winked. “Let’s give you the tour.”

  Ray explained since this was a private party, the rules were a little different than what Tyler saw at Blue Coconuts. “Full nudity, male and female, is totally allowed. At the public clubs, you can’t do that because of the laws. Here it doesn’t matter. No bodily fluid exchanges unless the partners are together, but condoms are allowed.”

  Tyler felt dazed as Ray showed him the various pieces of equipment set up throughout the large structure. Several play spaces had been curtained off, separating them from the main area which contained three St. Andrew’s Crosses, several spanking horses, and other assorted pieces of equipment.

  “Some people like private play, some like public. If the curtain’s drawn that means private, no entry. If it’s open, it means feel free to wander in and look around or watch. Just make sure you stay clear of tops swinging whips and crops. If you get hit, it’s your own fault for getting too close.”