by Romilly King
The darker man licked his lips and reached for his husband’s hand.
“I was a dancer before I joined Delphic,” Birch went on, “So I’m pretty flexible, and I train regularly because it’s important to be graceful and strong as a professional submissive,” he smiled at them again, “I adore bondage. I enjoy being obedient, and I can find my reward in anything from service submission to simply kneeling with my dominant.” He ducked his head, “I like my job, I’m happy in my career. I love making other people happy.
“Please, I would be happy for you to ask me anything you wanted,”
The dark-haired man cleared his throat, “Uh, what sort of dancer?” he asked, and Birch could tell he struggled to get the words out.
“Ballet,” said Birch, “I trained from the age of seven, unfortunately I don’t have the right body shape for classical,” he shrugged easily, “I’m too thick-bodied, not quite got the right length to my limbs. I’m not exactly Sergei Polunin.”
“I saw him dance once,” the dark-haired man said, “I saw him dance Take me to Church, for the very last time, just before he finally retired.”
Birch stared at him, “I love that piece,” he said softly, “It’s my favorite. I would sell my soul for a body shape like that,”
“I don’t think you need to,” the man replied and looked down.
“Do you still dance?” his husband asked.
“Yes, but only for fun now, and I teach classes when I have the time,”
“Have you had any thoughts about maybe a small service the Venditor could perform to help you get a better idea of your compatibility,” Cashel asked.
The two men looked at each other, and Birch felt their interest shivering in the room, an energy between the two of them, lustful and intense, that wanted to break free. They spoke to each other with their eyes, both fascinated, both torn.
“I quite often find that running through some submissive positions is helpful for Emptores,” Birch interjected, “That way you can see how I move and respond to orders without things getting uncomfortable for my colleague,” he smiled at Cash who blushed, bless him, “or crossing any boundaries we may not wish to cross,”
The darker man nodded at his husband’s enquiring look, “Yes, Venditor, that’s a good idea,” he stood, “Why don’t we go to the orangery, there is more room there. Do you wish to accompany us, Dr. Gregory?”
“No, I think it will be fine if I stay here, I don’t need to be there. You can call me if you need to.”
The taller man stood, he couldn’t help but wipe his hands on the thighs of his pants, but he stood confidently and squared his shoulders before he reached a hand to his husband.
“Please follow us Venditor,” he said formally
The orangery ran the entire length of the back of the house, a traditional conservatory style room of glass and plants. The floor was pale stone squares with slate diamond insets, clearly original and beautifully preserved, and the light that filtered through the grapevine that wound its way across the lantern roof was warm and dappled. An ensemble of rattan chairs and a table made a pleasant seating area at one end with views out to the garden, and the remainder of the room was layered with flowering plants and specimen ferns in pots, like a mini Rousseau painting.
Birch stood confidently in the middle of the floor and turned to his potential Emptores. “Naked, Sirs?” he asked with a smile.
“If you are comfortable to do that,” the grey-haired man sounded more in control now, and when Birch glanced at him, his posture was more relaxed and dominant. His husband now leaned against the orangery wall, his arms folded, one ankle crossed over the other as he watched Birch keenly.
Oh, there you both are, thought Birch with relief.
He stripped quickly and left his clothes folded neatly on the rattan chair before he moved into the center of the room. The air was warm on his skin, but his nipples tingled to erection anyway.
Automatically his feet went to first position, and he stood relaxed and happy, his hands in front of his groin, as he awaited orders.
Birch was used to being seen naked, and he was comfortable in his skin despite his body not having developed the way he needed it to. He still liked it, and he hoped these two doms liked it too.
The taller man stepped forward and walked around him slowly while his husband watched.
“Wait position for me please, Venditor,” he said, his voice was confident and clear, and Birch shifted himself into parade ground rest, his hands clasped behind his back and his feet shoulder-width apart.
“Inspection please,” the voice had changed, it was deeper, more sure, and despite having his eyes fixed ahead, Birch was aware that the Emptor circled him, his stride predatory.
Birch widened his stance and brought his hands up behind his head, he tilted his pelvis a little, offering his groin for inspection by his Dom. His cock wasn’t hard, but it certainly wasn’t totally flaccid anymore, and he liked the way the Emptor hummed in approval.
“He’s lovely, isn’t he,” the grey-haired man said. His husband pushed himself off the wall and walked over to join them. They both circled him now, and Birch could feel the lust in the room building, and his headspace responded to it.
“Kneel, Venditor,” the dark-haired man spoke for the first time, and his voice sent Birch to his knees is a graceful dip that required enormous muscle control.
Birch flowed into position, his knees widely spread, his back arched gently, and his hands gracefully upturned on his thighs, his head bowed.
He heard the growl the Emptor made, and it thrilled him. “Good boy,” the man’s voice was like a caress, and Birch shivered.
Birch felt a finger under his chin, and his face was tipped up. He was already starting to sink into subspace, and it took him a second to focus on the two men that stood in front of him.
It was the taller man who had touched him lightly, but it was the dark-haired man who spoke for them. “Humble, Venditor,” he purred, and Birch was moving before the words had left the man’s mouth.
He lifted up from the relaxed kneeling position and bent forward at the waist. His arms stretched straight out in front of him, and his forehead on the floor. His widespread legs allowed his rapidly hardening cock to swing between his thighs and put his hole on display. He loved this position.
Birch arched his back luxuriously, overjoyed to be kneeling for two Doms.
Footsteps circled him, and he yearned to press kisses to the feet of those who looked at him. Instead, he relaxed into his breathing and just reveled in the thought of their eyes on him.
It seemed they enjoyed looking because there was silence for a few minutes.
“Thank you Venditor, you did beautifully, you may get dressed now,”
Birch slowly eased back into Kneel and looked up at the Emptores. They stood before him again, and they were holding hands. Oh, you really should play together, thought Birch, you’d love it.
“Thank you, Sirs,” Birch purred under their gaze and using his core pulled himself upright to stand before them, he waited a moment, letting them enjoy the sight of his now hard cock, “I hope you choose me, I enjoyed kneeling for you,”
“Oh I think that’s a given,” said the grey-haired man with a smile, “You are wonderful, and we would be delighted to contract with you,”
Birch dipped his head, almost a little bow, “I am honored,” he said, “My name’s Birch,” he offered.
Chapter Five - Griffin
The boy was delicious, Griffin thought moonily, he wasn’t what he had expected, but then he had tried not to expect anything. He hadn’t wanted to fixate. But Birch was perfect. Sturdy and graceful, thick and toned, doe-eyed, and with pouting lips that Griffin couldn’t wait to feed his cock between.
Ivo had been struck dumb by him; that was for sure. He had hardly said a word, but as soon as the interview was over, he had scurried off to his own playroom and was no doubt finalizing how he planned to lay it out to scene with Birch.
&n
bsp; There was no doubt that they both wanted the boy – man – sub. They hadn’t even needed to discuss it, they had both reacted to him immediately, and when he had stripped down and run through positions, god, it had been so hot. The ease with which he moved, the evident joy he took in obedience, the way he got hard from doing what he was told. Griffin supposed that was the advantage you got with Delphic rather than trying to find a sub in the wild – Birch had been beautifully trained. He wished he could have had had some private time with the boy, but that would have been inappropriate, really.
He couldn’t wait to plan some scenes, discuss the schedule with Ivo, start to enjoy the fruits of their hard work.
He hoped Ivo wouldn’t be selfish about time.
He paused, Ivo was never selfish, there would be no conflict here, they had this planned, they had discussed everything.
But he really wanted the boy first because, well Ivo, he was really intense, and God he wanted the boy now.
Chapter Six - Ivo
Ivo quietly closed the door to his playroom suit and leaned back on it. The silence throbbed around him, and he closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. Finally, he was going to have this.
The rooms Ivo had for his own use were a symphony in clinical whites, and he loved that, but they had been lifeless since he built them, almost unused. Until now. Soon Birch would be here, stepping into his space, with his willingness and his charm.
Ivo pushed himself from the door and strode over to his desk, prominently centered in the curve of the turret that was the focal point of the room. The pure white floorboards under his feet creaked in accompaniment to his footsteps, they were original and prone to groan and whimper at various times of day – should he get a different floor covering in here? Would the boards be suitable for Birch to kneel on? The separate examination suite off this room was floored with welded edge specialist flooring designed for medical use with a built-in bactericide. It was cushioned, but the board floors in the main room offered little comfort to a sub on the floor. Maybe some sort of floor cushion was needed.
Sitting down at his desk Ivo opened his computer and called up his favorite supplier website. He had a substantial shopping list if he was to give his new sub everything he deserved.
The sun that streamed in through the tall windows behind Ivo was hot on his neck, and he spun his chair around to notch open one of the sash windows. A cooling breeze wafted in, bringing the aroma of mountain summer to the neutrally scented room.
He needed new scrubs, he didn’t want to use his usual surgical scrubs – he added several dark blue sets to his online shopping basket. A few sets of Sheets of San Francisco pillowcases and fitted sheets, white naturally, for use in the recovery room, were also added.
His urge was to buy all new everything for Birch, but he had to be reasonable. He gave in to the acquisition of a new anal speculum and a set of anal dilators before pausing on a stainless steel lube shooter that had just the right ambiance about it compared to the plastic ones he already had – he bought it.
A gorgeous white straightjacket caught his eye. It was expensive, but the boy would look perfect in it, and it had a choice of crotch straps.
The temptation offered by a slim white leather collar was impossible to resist, it would look beautiful around Birch’s neck – Griffin didn’t use collars, but Ivo was a traditionalist at heart, and the idea of collaring his sub was something that appealed deeply to him.
He reluctantly moved to checkout his order and arrange delivery. He could get more toys once he found Birch’s particular tolerances and interests, there were some gorgeous sounds that he had spotted. Don’t be in too much of a rush, he thought to himself, just the straight jacket itself offered many possibilities in the immediate future, and then there was his pride and joy, his specialist e.stim machine.
Standing, Ivo walked into the examination room attached to his office. Nothing in the room screamed kink – unless the contents of the cabinets were examined.
The surgical white walls, gloss cabinets, built-in autoclave, rolling stool and instrument trolley, made it look like just any room in a private clinic. He supposed the restraints attached to the examination table might have been a clue if someone had a dirty mind.
Until now, only one other person in the world knew about this room and what he wanted to do in it.
He sat on the rolling stool and scooted over to the examination table. He rested his ungloved hands on the soft fibers of the disposable paper cover. In his mind, he could already see Birch here, restrained, fascinated, nervous but willing.
If he closed his eyes, he could hear the boy’s quick breathes, and he imagined how he would stroke the inside of his muscled thigh and soothe him and pet him before he started on him.
Only one other person in the world had been in this room, and that had gone badly, so badly in fact that Ivo had firmly closed the door on that part of his desires. At one point, he had thought it would only ever be used as a consulting room for when he retired from full-time practice.
He was very aware that Griffin regarded his fetish as somehow weirder than his own, and that stung. It was because of his particular desires that they had hesitated so long before approaching Delphic.
Ivo had never hidden his kink from Griff. If either of them had tried hiding from the other, they would never have got past the first year in their relationship. But the way Griff had reacted when he had tried a scene with Ivo, that had shown what Griff really thought about it.
God, he hoped Birch wouldn’t run. Ivo might be a sadist in the strictest sense of the word, but he yearned for a play partner to step into this room, to explore their own body and their individual responses willingly. That was the critical thing.
“Ivo, you in here?”
Ivo felt a flicker of irritation, Griff knew he was in here, but even now he couldn’t step across the threshold of this space.
Ivo rose and walked out to the main room, firmly closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” Griffin’s smile is bright, and there was an eagerness about him that Ivo hadn’t seen in years, “Do you remember that dancer at saw at Ballet Pacifica who was built like the Venditor? It was surprising to see someone so muscular move so gracefully – I felt like that watching the boy go through positions.”
Griffin has clearly just concocted a reason to be in here. He wanted to talk, to share the excitement, and Ivo couldn’t blame him. This was something they had talked about, argued about, fought over, for so long. He shouldn’t be irritated that Griff interrupted his planning.
“I remember,” he said, “There was a similar look about them, strong but very fluid somehow, although the classical tights and doublet didn’t work that well on that kind of body.”
Griff wandered over to the turret and leaned back against Ivo’s desk. “We should celebrate,” he said, “We should do something special, to mark getting this far,”
“Okay,” said Ivo.
“And we can discuss how we want to run this, decide on a schedule, like who goes first,” Griffin was deliberately nonchalant, his hands in his pockets, his body language casual.
Ivo smiled at him, “You can have him first,” he said.
Griffin lit up, “Really, you don’t mind,”
“I don’t mind,” Ivo stepped into Griffin's space and wrapped his armed around his husband’s neck, “I know how you think sweetheart, I always have, and I get so much out of the planning, and I really am all about the slow burn, so you go first.” He kissed Griffin gently, “And I think you deserve it, you organized all this,”
“For us,” whispered Griffin, but he didn’t refuse Ivo’s offer.
Chapter Seven - Birch
Ms. Maisie called while Birch endured the horror of a pedicure. He was particularly grumpy when she started to go through the routine pre-contract safety protocol.
Birch listened with half an ear and tried to avoid the look of horror on the tiny therapist’s face as she tended to what Birch and ballet had done to
his feet.
“As this is a local contract, you won’t need to wear the locator,” Ms. Maisie said, her relentlessly upbeat tone making the emergency button that Venditores wore on specialist contracts sound as innocuous as a corsage.
Birch huffed, “That’s good,” he said, “It ruins my headspace to know I have a crash team ready to rappel down a building if I accidentally press it.”
“You’re moody today,” Ms. Maisie said, “I thought you’d be bouncing off the walls with excitement at the thought of being uber plowed by two Dominants,”
“You have a lovely turn of phrase,” Birch said, “And I am, but right now I am having a pedicure, at my Emptores insistence, and the therapist seems to think I have been tortured by the state of my feet,”
Ms. Maisie laughed, “I’ve seen your feet, I tend to agree with her,”
“Not my fault,” said Birch, “Ballet does that to you, I might be only twenty-four, but my feet are in their sixties,”
The therapist looked up at him with sympathy and continued massaging lotion into his toes, attempting to smooth out the callouses that were now as much part of him as his skin and bone.
“Anyway,” Ms. Maisie went on, “Because you’re local and your Emptores are low risk, it’s just the standard emergency code on your phone for assistance.”
“Got it,” said Birch.
“What’s the official start time of your contract for my records?” asked Ms. Maisie.
“Six pm,” said Birch, “But I’m on the clock already because the whole afternoon is full of, and I quote, ‘routine maintenance to Emptores requested standard.’ They have scheduled me a manicure, this humiliating pedicure, followed by a full-body wax and a massage,”
“Oh, poor you,” Ms. Maisie giggled, “Had you been skipping the manscaping when you did your interview?”
“Fuck off,” said Birch without heat, “I was manscaped but apparently they like totally bare, so it’s back, sack and crack time,”