The Sextet Presents... Small, Medium, and Large [A Toy Story] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour)

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The Sextet Presents... Small, Medium, and Large [A Toy Story] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) Page 2

by Cheryl Brooks


  Toby had been a geek in high school, hanging out with his buddies rather than risking feminine rejection. Now, he didn’t care. He was willing to put his heart out there to be trounced on in the faint hope that someday, somewhere, he might learn what it meant to love and to be loved by someone who was willing to take the same risks. Had he found her? Impossible to say just yet, but he’d spoken to a tall, gorgeous blonde in a toy shop and told her which dildo she should buy. That had to go down as the single gutsiest thing he’d ever done. Surely that had to count for something.

  Renee might chew him up and spit him out eventually, but in the meantime, this interlude would be glorious. “I wouldn’t say I didn’t need women. Women have always turned me on, I just never…well, I don’t know. It just never felt right. I can’t explain it any better than that. And I don’t do men, either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  She appeared to consider this for a moment. “No, I’ll give you that one, because if you did, you’d be hanging out in a gay bar rather than picking up women in a toy store.” Stepping up onto the sidewalk, she paused before turning to face him. “You aren’t a virgin, are you?”

  “No, but I might as well be. Sure, I can get my rocks off in any girl who’ll let me fuck her, but something is missing.”

  Toby was afraid he’d been a little too blunt, but Renee didn’t flinch, simply nodding as though she understood. “I know the feeling.”

  He slipped past her to open the door and could almost feel the way her eyes caressed his body. If her hands felt even half as good, he was a goner.

  They took a seat in a booth, sitting across from each other. Whoever said booths were cozy and sexy was a fool. There was a table between them when he wanted to be in her lap, or pull her onto his. Either one would’ve been preferable, but this was a date, not an orgy, so he kept his hands to himself.

  With very little prompting, he told her everything about himself he could remember. From the way Jenny Taylor had laughed in his face for having the audacity to ask her to the prom to the day he’d sold his Shiranna, Warrior Princess video game to the highest bidder. Gazing at the blonde goddess sitting across the table from him, he realized how close she came to being the embodiment of Shiranna. Though the princess might have been a bit more bodacious in the ta-ta department—and, this woman, thankfully, wasn’t as well-armed—he wasn’t complaining.

  He listened as she told him about herself, hanging on every word to the point that, afterward, he had no idea what he’d eaten for dinner. She’d had to be tough as nails and incredibly intelligent to get to where she was at her age, and though he admired her tenacity, he’d never been so captivated by a woman in the sexual sense before. She could’ve been telling him about how she dropped out of high school and went to work selling burgers and fries instead of earning her MBA from Notre Dame and climbing the business ladder with astonishing speed. The fact that she was senior vice president of a major corporation didn’t matter. None of it did. The sound of her voice, the tilt of her head, the way she held her fork, the way she smiled all held his attention. Everything about her was magic.

  Until the waiter brought the check. “My treat,” she said firmly.

  Toby sighed. He’d had an idea this was coming. “My mother taught me that the one who does the asking is the one who does the paying. I asked you to have dinner with me, not the other way around.”

  A delicate brow arched higher. “Are we having our first quarrel?”

  “Maybe. That depends on how reasonable you’re willing to be.”

  She glanced at the check. It couldn’t have been more than forty dollars, tops, and probably wasn’t worth fighting over, but Toby wasn’t poor and he wasn’t a pushover—something she needed to realize. Resting her chin against her fist, she tapped a contemplative finger on the tabletop, her eyes locked on his, clearly trying to decide whether this was a battle she needed to win or one she could concede with dignity.

  Toby held her gaze, never batting an eyelash.

  After a few moments, she tossed him the bill. “Can’t argue with mom on this one.”

  Dropping the cash on the table, Toby stood, holding out his hand. “Ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be. Lead on.”

  Chapter Two

  Renee followed Toby to a part of town she’d never visited before. The houses were nice, rather than ostentatious, and the lawns were spacious and well-groomed. Except for Toby’s yard, which looked like a botanical experiment run amok. Flowering vines climbed the walls of the house, and the front yard was divided into small beds filled with riotous growth, most of it tagged with color-coded labels. Noting the huge SUV already sitting in the driveway, she parked on the street. So, he’s got enough money for a house and two vehicles. Not that it mattered.

  Toby paused at the door. “There’s something I should tell you before we go inside.”

  Oh, here it comes…

  “I have a…roommate.”

  His hesitant manner didn’t bode well. Isn’t that just ducky? Hook me with the pocket Adonis and then toss me to the troll that lives under the bridge. “And what does he like? Whips and chains?”

  He cleared his throat before replying. Not good… “Well, yes, but only if you use them on him.”

  Oh, joy… “You mean he wants a dominatrix?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Does it have to be me?”

  “Well…you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

  “I’ll just bet he would,” Renee said dryly. What have I gotten myself into?

  “Haven’t you ever wanted two men?”

  “I dunno,” she replied with perfect truth. “Never really thought about it.” One was usually bad enough.

  He hesitated again. “If you’ve never thought about it before, this might be a good time to start. He’s a really nice guy, but he’s…well, you’ll see.”

  Definitely a troll. “Does he have a name?”

  He nodded. “Lance Svahnstrom.”

  “Lance.” The name conjured up all manner of images, chief among them a timid little toad given that name by parents who hoped to inspire him to be a warrior prince, or at least a quarterback. “Geeze, I don’t know, Toby.”

  “That’s okay,” he said quickly. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, but could you please at least think about it?”

  Renee gave him a reluctant nod. “What the hell. By the time I’ve finished fucking your ass with a strap-on, beating the shit out of another guy oughta be a piece of cake.”

  God, he was cute when he laughed. “That’s the spirit!”

  Then he opened the door.

  The house was beautifully furnished, adding further credence to his story about the video game fortune. He called out to his roommate. “Hey, Lance! C’mere and say hello to Renee.”

  So, Lance was a troll who had to be told to mind his manners. Wonderful.

  A deep, rumbling voice replied from an adjoining room. “Who?”

  Renee heard the sound of what was probably a recliner being righted, followed by a heavy tread. Fee, fi, fo, fum was sure to be his next line. She held her breath.

  As Lance entered the living room, the first thing Renee noticed were the six-pack abs, followed by a bush of blond hair, cleft chin, square jaw, and muscles out the wazoo on what had to be a seven-foot frame. And all he had on was a pair of cutoff jeans. Holy shit.

  He held out his hand. Renee automatically offered her own and watched as it disappeared into his huge paw. Completely.

  “Nice to meet you, Renee.”

  Upon closer inspection, she decided that he wasn’t quite seven feet tall, but he was at least a foot taller than she was, and he’d had to duck to get through the doorway. She was used to looking down at the majority of men. Being able to look up was a welcome change. “Thank you, Lance, but believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

  Lance smiled and glanced at Toby. “Where did you two meet?”

  “To
y shop,” Toby replied, holding up his purchases. “I finally bought that strap-on. She’s gonna wear it.”

  Lance was still holding her hand and Renee tried not to wince when he gave it a meaningful squeeze. “That’s very sweet of you, Renee.” His genial smile morphed into a frown. “Most women treat him like shit.”

  No, Lance wasn’t a troll, nor was he a big bully. He was a big, Swedish teddy bear. Her heart melted. “You watch out for him, don’t you?”

  “Always,” Lance replied. “He’s the best buddy I’ve ever had.”

  It spoke volumes that he didn’t refer to Toby as his “little” buddy. She figured that between the two of them, they’d probably heard all of the big and little jokes in existence—just like she’d heard every “heartless bitch” comment that came down the pike. She wasn’t heartless. She simply knew what was good for business. Unfortunately, it wasn’t always good for the employees. She smiled inwardly. Or George Muntan…

  She had a dream, though. A dream of starting her own company. One that treated people like the valuable assets they were, and not commodities that could be bought and sold like sacks of grain. A company that made money without destroying people or the environment. Perhaps she would do that someday, but not just yet…

  Renee was beginning to suspect that Lance was gauging the strength in her right arm because he still hadn’t let go of her hand. “Do you two want me to leave?” he asked.

  “Not necessarily.” Toby shot a sidelong glance at Renee. “I did…well…I mentioned that you were sort of into the whole dominatrix thing, and she—”

  Lance dropped her hand like it was on fire. “You didn’t.”

  “Well, she said something about whips and chains, and I know you—”

  “I’m trying to get over that, Toby.”

  “You must not be trying very hard,” Toby said with a snort. “You’ve still got a closet full of leather…things.”

  “Can I help it if I like black leather?”

  Toby snickered. “No. And you can’t help the other stuff, either.” He leaned toward Renee with a conspiratory smile. “He’s got a dominatrix outfit in every possible size hanging in his closet. Wanna try one on?”

  Renee had never considered herself in the dominatrix role, nor had she ever felt any need to wear a strap-on, but now she wondered why she never had. Boy, when you go over to the dark side, you really do it right, Renee… “I suppose I could. Do I just have to wear it, or is there acting involved?”

  “Um, well, I’ve got a few whips.” Lance rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting her eyes.

  Toby shouted with laughter. “A few whips? He’s got a whole collection of them. All kinds.”

  Renee’s mouth went dry. She licked her lips in an attempt to stimulate her salivary glands, but the way Lance reacted, she might as well have stripped naked.

  He was actually trembling, his voice a hoarse whisper. “You want to see them?”

  “As long as you don’t use them on me.”

  “Oh, I’d never do that,” he said quickly. “That’s not why I have them.”

  “Yeah, I know. I have to play dominatrix.”

  Toby grinned. “Something tells me you’d be good at it, being a hotshot executive and all.”

  “I am not a heartless bitch!” Renee asserted. That epithet had been applied to her so many times she was surprised no one had ever drawn cartoons of her as a whip-wielding slave driver. She frequently had to remind herself that it wasn’t true.

  “Nobody ever said you were,” Lance said soothingly. “But if you ever want to relieve your frustrations, I’m your man.”

  “You could think of him as your therapist,” Toby suggested. “If you ever feel like slugging someone, you just whip his ass.”

  Renee scratched her head. “Fuck your ass, whip his… Do either of you see anything strange in all that?”

  Both men paused, apparently giving this some thought.

  “Nope,” Toby said finally.

  Lance shook his head. “Different, maybe, but not strange. Lots of guys like that kind of stuff.”

  None that I’ve ever met. At least, not until today. “Really?” Renee felt like she wasn’t getting enough air. She cleared her throat. “I had no idea.”

  “Get on the Internet sometime and look up strap-ons,” Toby suggested. “You’d be amazed at the stuff you’ll find. Guys wanting their women to use one on them, but afraid it’s too ‘gay,’ and women who would love to do it, but can’t convince their men to let them try.”

  “Then it’s just a matter of matching up the right traits? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I like to think it’s more a matter of keeping an open mind,” Toby said. “And you seem to be fairly open to suggestion.”

  “God forbid that anyone should consider me close-minded. Well, show me the, um, collection, then.”

  Lance beamed at her. “I think I’m falling for you already.”

  Chapter Three

  For starters, Lance had the biggest bed Renee had ever seen. It must’ve been a king-sized king size, and had to have been ridiculously expensive. Probably has custom-made sheets on it, too. “So, Lance, what do you do for a living when you aren’t being dominated?”

  “Very boring job,” Lance replied. “You wouldn’t be interested.”

  Toby shot a scathing glance at his friend, leading Renee to suspect that they’d had this discussion before. “It is not boring. He’s an agricultural engineer. Knows all about crop rotation, how to grow food without destroying the planet, organic fertilizers—he’s even developed his own recipe—stuff like that. He’s really smart.”

  “I’m sure he is,” Renee said. “That also explains the experimental landscaping. So, tell me, how did a video game designer wind up sharing a house with an agricultural engineer?”

  “We roomed together in college,” Toby replied. “I guess someone figured we would take up the same space as two normal-sized guys. Anyway, we got to be friends, and we’ve been together ever since.”

  “That’s nice.” Their relationship sounded almost like a marriage to Renee, and probably seemed that way to everyone else, though their unusual preferences would make being a couple somewhat difficult. Renee had a hard time visualizing a whip-wielding Toby in full dominatrix regalia, and if Lance’s dick was anything like the rest of him, he’d have killed Toby with it by now. She nodded toward the closet. “Do you have a favorite?”

  “Oh, yeah, and I bet it fits you, too.” As he opened the double doors, the scent of leather wafted into the room. Reaching inside, he pulled out a corset that had very low cups built into it. Cinched up at the waist, her breasts would be supported, but fully exposed. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what that stiff leather would feel like against her skin, but she would do her damndest to be a good sport. If nothing else, this experience would be one for her memoirs.

  “Very hot!” She eyed the rack of whips hanging on the inside of the door. “Got a favorite whip?”

  “This one.” He handed her a stiff crop with a wrist strap on the handle and a wide leather popper on the business end.

  Renee chuckled. “Did you get this at a tack shop? It looks authentic.”

  “Oh, it is,” Lance replied. “I only buy them from horse supply catalogs.”

  “More discreet,” Toby said with a nod.

  Renee wondered just how discreet he’d been about buying the dominatrix gear. Something told her it hadn’t come from JCPenney. This is really getting weird. She took a deep breath. “So, I wear a corset and carry a whip. What else?”

  Toby gaped at her. “The strap-on?”

  Renee smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. “How could I possibly forget that? Anything else? Spike heels? Fishnet hose?”

  “I just like leather,” Lance replied. “If you put on the corset and smack my buns with that whip, well, that would be heavenly.”

  Renee didn’t think any part of what he was suggesting would be heavenly. But what do I know? “Okay.
That’s got my wardrobe covered. What are you two going to do?”

  “Whatever you tell me to,” Lance said promptly. His quiver of anticipation was hard to miss, considering his size.

  “And the same goes for me,” Toby said with a nod.

  “Oh, come on, now! You’re not dumping all this in my lap. What if I tell you to do something you don’t like?”

  Toby shrugged. “Then we’ll tell you so.”

  Renee considered this for a moment. “That would be breaking the rules, wouldn’t it? I mean, if you have to do whatever I tell you, then you don’t get to say no.”

  Lance’s quiver became a full shudder. “If we break the rules, we get punished.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Toby protested. “That’s not my thing at all.”

  “Okay, then,” Renee said with a quick nod. “Lance gets punished for whatever you don’t do.”

  Lance gasped and doubled over like he’d been punched in the gut. Or climaxed. It was impossible to tell which. She ran her eyes up and down his body. “Was that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  A long moment passed before Lance replied. “Very good.”

  Toby chuckled. “You almost made him come with that one, Renee. I think you’re getting the hang of this.”

  “Maybe, but I’m still not sure what to do with you, Toby. Am I supposed to be mean or pushy or sweet or what?”

  “I’m leaving that up to you.”

  “Or should I act like a man?” It was a shot in the dark, but the whole gay issue still nagged at her like a persistent child.

  “Whatever works for you,” Toby said. “Your call.”

  Which left the door wide open, allowing her to play it by ear. “Well, it’s not like I have to be in the mood.” Noting their puzzled expressions, she went on, “What I mean is, my dick will be hard no matter what.”

  “It would help if you were turned on, though,” Toby said.

  Renee snorted derisively. “How the hell will you be able to tell?”

  Toby cocked his head like a curious robin. “You mean we won’t get to touch you or lick you or anything? I bought condoms. Even some of the XXL size for Lance.”

 

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