Indifference of Heaven

by Tymber Dalton

  Boyd stroked Paul’s hair. “Excellent skills, boy. Your Daddy taught you well.” He noticed Paul melting a little at that, already dropping into subspace for him.

  Boyd reluctantly pulled out and went to the closet, humming as he rooted through the basket of gags, each one in a plastic zipper-top bag with a date written on it, indicating it’d been sanitized. There were two plastic baskets in the bathroom where guests were expected to put toys they borrowed and then washed when they finished with them, one for items like gags and blindfolds, the other for insertables used on the other end.

  Tomorrow, Kent himself would take the washed items and wash them again, spray them down with bleach, and then run them through a dishwasher in his utility room that he used only for sanitizing toys. Back in fresh bags, dated, and ready for the next guest to enjoy.

  He was a considerate host like that.

  Normally, when Boyd had a submissive of his own, they had all their own things. Using borrowed stuff was like sharing a toothbrush.

  Except he didn’t have his implement bag with him, and he wanted to play with Paul.

  He picked a fairly large ball gag and opened it, tossing the bag and putting the gag on the bed. From the implement bins—which were clearly labelled because if Kent wasn’t at least a little OCD then Boyd was Freddy fucking Mercury—he picked several paddles and canes. All of those he’d wipe down with the provided wipes before returning them to the bins.

  Humming to himself, he found a set of leather wrist and ankle cuffs that would fit Paul, and got them buckled on him. Then he pointed at the spanking bench, a well-padded kneeler type, not a horse-style that was straddled.

  Paul immediately rose and walked over to it, climbing on and positioning himself.

  Boyd used the attached clips to hook his cuffs to it, then grabbed the ball gag.

  “I’m going to leave this loose enough you can spit it out, okay? But you’re going to want something to bite down on, because this is going to get really, really loud on your end.”

  “Yes, Sir.” His green eyes sparkled, eager. Ready. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Have you been allowed to come tonight?”

  “I’m allowed to, Sir, but I haven’t yet. That’s up to you. Whether I come tonight doesn’t matter.”

  “Does your Daddy make you come, or do you have to rely on the kindness of strangers?”

  “If I haven’t by the end of the night, Daddy usually does, Sir.”

  “How many are you good for a night?”

  “Two or three. One time, Daddy got five out of me in an hour, but I thought my dick was going to fall off by the time he finally stopped.”

  Boyd chuckled. “Okay.” He leaned in, grabbed Paul’s hair, and wrenched his head up and back. “Would you like to come for me, boy?”

  He actually shivered. “Yes, Sir.”

  “I think when I finally fuck you, I’m going to make you come so I can feel your ass squeezing my cock.” He smiled. “Will probably be the last time you can do that until you’ve recovered from Kent borrowing you.”

  Paul laughed, but it sounded a little slurred. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. That sounds like fun.”

  Boyd leaned in and kissed him, hard. He’d seriously considered just giving him a fast, hard spanking and then fucking his brains out, but now that he knew a little more about Paul and his needs, he wanted him to have a memorable night.

  It damn sure would be for him.

  Boyd buckled the ball gag around Paul’s head, leaving it loose enough it could be spit out. There would be drooling, so Boyd grabbed an extra towel and placed it under Paul so he didn’t end up with a puddle. Then Boyd started with bare-handed strikes, slaps he rapidly stepped up to pummeling, and the man quickly settled into it, relaxing. Once he’d gauged Paul could definitely take a higher gear, he grabbed one of the lighter paddles from the closet and started in on him with that.

  Over his ass and thighs, he didn’t hold back, the man’s moans making Boyd’s cock hard.

  And drool wasn’t the only puddle—Paul was accumulating a puddle of pre-cum under him on the padded bench.

  At one point, Boyd scooped some onto his fingers and wiped them around Paul’s lips, on the ball gag. “You’re making a mess, boy. Think I need to spank you harder for that.”

  More moans, of the good kind.

  Boyd grinned.

  After nearly an hour, and adding canes and crops to the play implements, Paul was well-beaten, and Boyd was aching to come. Fortunately, the kneeler was the perfect height for Boyd to fuck the man like that without taking him off the bench. He rolled a condom on, not wanting to go bare now that he knew Paul wasn’t exactly a monk. Nothing against the guy, but it was more for Boyd’s peace of mind.

  He reached up and unfastened the gag, wanting to hear the man’s moans like this, too.

  Paul’s ass was red and hot and criss-crossed with marks and bites, and after adding lube to Paul’s ass and around his sheathed cock, Boyd easily slid inside the man. The deep, needy moans rolling from Paul made Boyd’s cock throb.

  “Please, fuck me, Sir!”

  Boyd raked his nails down Paul’s back, leaving red furrows behind. “Oh, I plan to, boy.” He grabbed Paul’s hips and fucked him, hard, viciously, the man trying to fuck back against him with every thrust. It was nice knowing he had a willing partner who wanted this level of savagery inflicted upon them.

  You betcha.

  Sure, he could play sensually and sweet, but he rarely had the combination of masochist and sexual partner who could keep up with all of him and play to his level.

  Paul’s ass wasn’t so loose Boyd couldn’t feel him, but it was obvious he wasn’t an amateur, either.

  Boyd swiped his hand through the puddle of pre-cum under Paul and used it to jack his cock as he fucked him. “Okay, boy. If you don’t come before me, you’ll have to hold it until your Daddy makes you come later.”

  Paul actually whined as he fucked Boyd’s hand as much as his restraints would allow him to move, frantic, needy.

  Boyd struggled to hold back, and it was a relief when Paul finally exploded, his back arching and his moans music to Boyd’s ears. The man’s ass squeezed his cock, tighter and stronger than Boyd had expected, and he finally came with relief, filling the condom.

  He slapped Paul’s ass. “That was excellent, boy.”

  “Thank you, Sir.” He lay limp and spent on the bench.

  Boyd took care of the condom and cleaned up before unhooking Paul. Then he made him help take care of the implements and the bench. With that done, Boyd stretched out on the bed and patted the mattress next to him. He cuddled Paul against his side, draped over him, wanting a little snuggle time.

  “Don’t get too comfy. That was part one. I’m going to turn you over ready for Kent to play with, which means you need a fisting.”

  Paul moaned, but it was an oh, goody moan. “Thank you, Sir.” He pressed his lips to Boyd’s flesh and licked him.

  “I take it you’re no stranger to that?”

  “No, Sir. I enjoy it.”

  “Excellent.” He trailed his fingers up and down Paul’s back. “Anything you’d like to talk about? Harder, too hard? More of, less of?”

  “No, Sir. That was fantastic. Best scene I’ve ever had.”

  “And we’re not even done yet.”

  Paul actually giggled. “Oh, boy.”

  “You can say that again.”

  After ten minutes, he put Paul onto all fours on the bed and, with a large tub of fisting lube and a gloved hand, Boyd started working him up. He started with two fingers, which was a smart move and saved him a little time, because they easily slid inside him with no resistance. He made sure to play with Paul’s prostate, and to stroke his cock with his other hand.

  “You’re not allowed to come this time,” Boyd said. “I want you eager for whatever Kent’s going to dish out. But you can fuck my hands, if you want. Long as you hold back.”

  His head had drooped and that slurred tone ret
urned to his voice. “Yes, Sir.”

  Yep, deep in subspace again.

  It took Boyd less than thirty minutes to work Paul up to taking his full hand. By that time, Paul was desperate to come again. Boyd slowly, carefully thrust his lubed and gloved hand in and out of Paul’s ass, fascinated by how responsive he was.

  Tim is a lucky fuck.

  Finally, after making sure Paul was well-lubed and loose, Boyd ditched the glove, washed his hand, and lay on the bed to let Paul worship his cock some more.

  He ran his hand through Paul’s hair as he did and tried not to think about another pair of green eyes from his past.

  Chapter Three

  The cable box over the TV displayed the time. About ninety minutes earlier, Boyd had heard cheering out in the living room that he knew meant Kent had claimed his first victim of the night.

  From the sound of the bottom’s ecstatic moaning, Boyd suspected Kent had converted another one.

  At five ’til midnight, Boyd led a very glazed-eyed Paul out of the back bedroom and into the living room, where he found Kent lounging on the sofa and having his cock worshipped by the now dazed-looking blue-eyed twink Boyd assumed Kent had just recently fucked, as well as another guy. Tim was sitting on the other end, chatting with Kent and being sucked by yet another guy.

  Kent grinned when he spotted them. “You tenderize him for me?”

  “He’s all ready.”

  “Do I need to fist him first?”

  “Do I look like an amateur?” Boyd teased.

  Kent slapped his thigh. He laughed and pointed at Boyd as he talked to Tim. “Told you he’s good. I trust him.”

  “Did you thank him for taking care of you?” Tim asked Paul.

  Paul turned to Boyd and kissed him, hard. “Thank you, Sir,” he softly said, winking at him.

  Green eyes.

  Boyd shoved thoughts away about the first guy he’d loved, the guy who’d broken his heart.

  His green eyes.

  “You’re very welcome, boy. Make me proud.”

  “Stay and help,” Tim offered, tapping his fluffer on his head and indicating for him to stop. “He’s going to need some distracting.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Let me see your ass, piggy.”

  Paul turned around.

  Boyd carefully watched Tim, catching just a flicker in his eyes that Tim carefully schooled before he smiled. “You are going to feel that tomorrow.”

  Paul grinned and nodded.

  Tim lightly flicked Paul’s hard cock. “Didn’t come?”

  “I made him come once,” Boyd said, “then edged him while I was fisting him.”

  “Ah. Smart.” He stood and slapped Paul’s raw ass. “Go say hi to Kent, piggy.”

  Paul crawled up onto the couch and kissed Kent.

  Tim leaned in and offered a fist bump to Boyd, which he returned. “Thanks, man,” Tim whispered. “I appreciate it.”

  “We okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Absolutely, we’re okay. That’s why I loan him out for the stuff I can’t do. Sex, that’s hot. The other stuff isn’t my thing. But he needs it or he starts getting kind of depressed. He’s really looking forward to going to Miami with Kent on Monday.”

  Boyd knew Kent had a little bit of a sadistic streak in him, but not a fraction of his own level. “What’ll you do while he’s gone?”

  Tim snorted. “Sleep. There’s been times I’ve had to order him to go run five miles on the goddamned treadmill while wearing a vibrating butt plug in the middle of the night because he wakes me up humping me, he’s so goddamned horny. He’s always been like this.”

  “Ah.”

  “When Kent invited us to our first party, I was like thank you god, answer to my fucking prayers!”

  “He told me he was usually only good for two or three in a night.”

  “Ha! That’s in addition to two or three in the morning, and one or two in the afternoon.”

  Now Boyd had the full picture and newfound respect for Tim. Tim loved his husband, and found a way to get his needs met so they were both happy.

  “So you’ll help out?” Tim repeated. He didn’t sound like he was just being polite, but like he genuinely wanted Boyd’s involvement.

  “Yeah, I’ll help.”

  Kent had Paul on his knees, taking over fluffing duties from the others. Now that it was apparent the king was about to conquer again, the room’s mood had shifted to eager anticipation.

  The man could put on a show when he wanted to.

  And it was one of those things, you couldn’t believe it until you saw it done for yourself, that massive cock sliding into an ass. No matter how many times Boyd saw it done, it never got old watching it.

  Paul wrapped both his hands around the monster, on either side of it, and mouthed the head of Kent’s cock, licking and sucking and barely able to fit the tip between his lips.

  Kent laced his fingers together on top of his head and grinned down at Paul. “That’s it, boy. Get acquainted with it. Gonna be your new best friend for a few days.”

  He let Paul do that for about ten minutes, and Boyd knew damn well what Kent was doing. He was trying to psyche Paul out, or up, either way. Finally, Kent tapped Paul on the head. “Time to get to work.” He patted the couch, on a towel spread out next to where he was sitting. “Right here. Boyd, did I hear right that you’re helping?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Excellent.” Kent grinned. “The more, the merrier.”

  “How you want him?” Boyd asked.

  “Wishbone him for me.”

  Tim and Boyd knelt on either side of Paul, pinning his hands over his head against the couch and each man holding a leg, spreading Paul wide open. Kent used a lube syringe to shoot Paul’s ass full of extra, and slathered his slab of meat with more.

  Excitement hummed through the spectators who gathered around to watch. Boyd had seen this show before, and while interesting, he was more interested in watching Paul’s face when he felt Kent breach his ass for the first time.

  Kent stepped between Paul’s legs and stroked his cock. “Ready for ruination?”

  Boyd clamped down on Paul’s wrist to help drive him harder into subspace, since the man had confessed he enjoyed being restrained and that it made things hotter for him, both sex and his BDSM play.

  Paul nodded.

  “Make all the noise you want.” Kent grinned. “I like it when guys moan.”

  Kent went in bare. Boyd wasn’t even sure if they made condoms that would fit around Kent’s cock. Plus Boyd hoped Paul was up for a ride, because if he was victim number two of the evening, that meant Kent was easily good for twenty minutes or more before he popped. He’d once seen Kent ride a guy for nearly forty minutes.

  The man pressed his cockhead against Paul’s rim, rubbing it around with his hand. “I suggest you push out.” Paul did, gasping as Kent pressed forward. “Yeah, you feel that, don’t you?”

  Tim’s eyes widened as he watched Kent’s monster cock slowly disappearing inside his husband’s ass. But from Tim’s hard cock, Boyd could see the man was enjoying the show.

  Boyd watched Paul’s eyes practically roll back in his head, the way he bit his lower lip and moaned, how he shifted his hips even though he and Tim had him spread open like a Thanksgiving turkey being stuffed.

  Paul’s gaze settled onto Boyd.

  “You can take it, boy,” Boyd told him. “You will take it. You had my hand up you not that long ago and you were begging for more.”

  “He’s going to get more, all right,” Kent joked. He had maybe an inch of his length stuffed inside Paul’s ass.

  Kent had a routine. Once he was buried all the way to the balls inside the guy, he liked the guy to try to flex his ass around his cock. Some could, some couldn’t.

  Boyd remembered seeing one twink who flexed his ass and made himself come because of the way Kent’s thick member was wedged against his prostate.

  Kent made deliberately slow progress, both
because he savored it and because he didn’t want to hurt the guy in a bad way. He’d withdraw a little and press forward, slowly, his audience watching with fascination, as they always did.

  It fed Kent’s ego and his exhibitionist side.

  “Oh, god!” Paul gasped. “Oh, my god!”

  “Be glad he’s not longer,” Boyd joked.

  Tim laughed. “You are going to have a loooong few days in Miami,” he softly teased.

  Kent looked like he was enjoying himself, too. “Oh, he’s going to be riding my cock at least twice a night, and probably every morning, too. Maybe even at lunch, if there’s time. That’s when he’s not worshipping it with his mouth and hands.”

  Sometimes Kent liked to sit there and watch a guy impale himself and do the work, but he usually reserved those times for repeat victims.

  Something about Kent’s demeanor with the man told Boyd that Paul was about to rise to the top of a very short list of guys Kent would repeat-fuck on a regular basis.

  Paul’s rigid cock twitched, pre-cum puddling on his abs where it was dripping in a near constant stream. He arched his body in their arms, trying to work with Kent and take him faster than Kent was going.

  “More, please!” Paul gasped. A cheer went up from the spectators.

  Kent grinned. “Did he just beg for more?”

  “Yes he did,” Tim said with a smile.

  “Damn, boy.” Once Kent had his cock all the way in, sure enough, he ordered Paul to flex his ass around him, and he did, making Paul moan and gasp with pleasure.

  “Oooh, boy,” Kent said. He stroked the backs of Paul’s thighs and squeezed fistfuls of flesh. “You and I are going to have some fun.” He withdrew slowly, until just the head remained inside Paul’s ass, followed by another slow thrust forward.

  Paul whined, needy.

  “Someone distract him so he doesn’t come yet,” Kent said. “I want to enjoy this ass for a while.” Boyd and Tim both waved in guys to hold Paul’s legs open. Then they climbed onto the sofa, their cocks in front of Paul’s mouth for him to suck and lick, even as they kept his hands pinned over his head.

  “That’s better,” Kent said. “I like noises, but no fun for anyone if it ends too soon.”