Borderline

by Tymber Dalton

  Bob knelt on the tile kitchen floor, dressed only in his collar and cuffs.

  A collar and cuffs that Landry had purchased especially for him, and had buckled on Bob personally a couple of months earlier when they’d collared him to them as a leather family.

  Before, when he’d still been trying to lie to himself that he might one day be able to find someone, somewhere he’d fit in besides here.

  Late this afternoon, it was just him and Landry at the house, both Cris and Tilly out of town for work. KC was with Tilly in London, and Cris was in Los Angeles. Landry had been “alone” at the house for three days, except for Bob coming over in the evenings after work.

  That meant the sadist felt extra frisky with only one willing victim at hand with whom to slake his urges.

  It was Friday, meaning Bob would spend the entire weekend there. Including Sunday night, Bob subject to Landry’s every whim—within their negotiated limits. Bob had only been there twenty minutes and was already deep in subspace.

  In front of him, Landry stood, barefoot and in jeans, shirtless. He talked on his cell with Cris and spoke rapid-fire French to him. Bob made no noise, no movement, nothing that would distract Landry from his business call.

  He’d noticed when Landry was agitated over a business matter that he frequently switched to French when talking with Cris.

  Or during scenes with the man.

  At home, Bob had several language courses and was struggling to absorb French. Not a requirement on their part. In fact, they didn’t even know he was doing it yet.

  He wanted to surprise them, hoped it’d earn him a good boy.

  Landry slowly circled him, stopping behind him. As Landry spoke, a toe nudged Bob’s ass, teasing his rim, pressing a little, before dropping down to his taint and his sac and tracing back up again.

  Bob sucked in a sharp breath and forced himself not to move.

  Landry didn’t miss a beat in his conversation while Bob struggled to hold the pose, motionless despite his cock throbbing. The only movements Landry would excuse were if he had a leg cramp, or sneezed, or coughed, or some other involuntary bodily response.

  Anything else would earn him five with the cane if he moved before ordered.

  He’d been here before, metaphorically speaking. While Tilly’s style was nearly identical to Landry’s, Landry was also a true sadist, whereas Cris and Tilly were more…fun-time sadists.

  Landry got off on it. That brought a new, deeper, sexier level to the play than Bob ever had with Mistress Cardinal, even before taking into account the different levels of interactions he’d had with her then as opposed to now.

  Bob’s heart raced even as his cock throbbed, aching. He knew he was likely leaving a puddle of pre-cum on the clean tile below him.

  Landry’s whole point of doing this to him.

  That, and Landry was having fun doing it to him.

  The toe disappeared and Landry rounded him to stand by his head, his toes on top of the tips of Bob’s fingers where his hands lay flat against the tile. Pinning him down.

  Bob swallowed back the moan that struggled to escape.

  Ooohh, yeah, he’d have a puddle under him, all right. Landry knew exactly what buttons to push. In a spooky damn way.

  More talking, Bob not understanding most of it. A stray word here or there.

  Then Landry let out a sigh and the tone of his voice changed, softening, words slowing, even chuckles and laughter interspersed between comments.

  If he had to guess, Bob suspected the conversation had turned toward personal matters.

  Landry moved again, once more standing behind him. This time, he wedged both his feet between Bob’s, forcing them slightly farther apart, pressing his shins against Bob’s ass.

  Bob forced himself not to hump himself back against Landry’s denim-clad legs. Sometimes he was allowed to do that, if it amused Landry. Those times usually happened while a leash was attached to his collar and his hands were clipped behind his back and he had to try to hump himself to an orgasm against Landry’s leg. Always with a dog tail butt plug in place, and his face pulled into Landry’s crotch while he held the leash tightly in one hand and scratched Bob’s head with the other.

  Calling him his good boy and urging him to come.

  Just one of many fun games the sadist liked to play.

  Now if Landry so much as held up that particular butt plug, Bob’s cock hardened.

  Of course, that also pleased the sadist.

  Orgasms had to be earned.

  Orgasms could only be earned by pleasing the sadist.

  Landry had ordered him not to masturbate or orgasm during play the past couple of days, teasing him during their time together, promising Bob if he held it that he’d have something special for him over the weekend.

  Of course Bob obeyed, despite needing to start his days with cold showers to get his morning wood to soften.

  Landry finished the call. Bob felt him lean, heard him lay the cell phone on the counter before he straightened and let out a sigh.

  “Ah, my adorable little plaything,” Landry said. “You are such a very good boy for me.”

  A shiver rushed through Bob. “Thank you, Sir. I want to be your good boy.”

  Under Bob, he felt Landry’s toes playing with his sac, the underside of his cock.

  “How much is there?”

  “Probably a lot, Sir.”

  An amused chuckle. “Excellent. Stay.” Landry’s feet disappeared, and he heard Landry head out of the kitchen.

  A few minutes later, Bob heard him return.

  He was still in position two, back deeply rounded, forehead touching the floor, arms outstretched in front of him with his thumbs touching.

  “Three.”

  Bob rose to his knees to assume the position, thighs spread almost painfully wide, hands laced behind his head, shoulders back, spine ramrod straight.

  His hard cock rigid and twitching in front of him.

  Landry wore that smile, the one Bob knew meant he’d be begging for release as well as swearing at Landry by the end of the night.

  “Yes, quite a puddle.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Excellent.” He reached in and ruffled Bob’s hair. “You really are a very good boy for me, to put up with me torturing you so.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  Their play had a few limits, nearly all of them from the triad’s end of things. If it was up to Bob, he’d totally turn control of his body over to them and let them use him however they saw fit.

  For now, no oral sex in the strictest sense of the word, meaning no mouth-to-penis or pussy. Deep kissing on the lips had been okayed by Tilly, although the triad hadn’t done that with him yet. Landry frequently gave him a kiss on the forehead or cheek, and sometimes Cris did, too, during a scene. Tilly frequently kissed him on the cheek, or forehead, or a quick brush of lips on lips. No intercourse, although the men frequently used butt plugs and other toys on him during scenes. They would also jerk him off, although he had not yet been allowed to reciprocate. He wasn’t sure if that was a triad rule or a Tilly rule, but he wouldn’t push if it wasn’t offered.

  Biting was definitely allowed. There’d been plenty of mornings he’d smiled in the mirror over the tooth impressions in his ass and thighs from Landry and Cris, who both enjoyed feral play.

  Even though Bob had permission to date since they’d shifted to this dynamic, he hadn’t. He had no desire to. Because of the intimate level of play they engaged in, they were fluid-bonded and he wasn’t going to do anything to disrupt what they had. And if he was going to date, he’d have to get permission before having sex with her and, honestly? He really didn’t want to go through all of that trouble.

  Besides, what woman would be okay with him doing this with people? That’d be like trying to find a bisexual double-dicked unicorn that could perform quantum physics calculations in its brain.

  It wouldn’t happen.

  He saw Landry had brought a few ite
ms and set them on the kitchen table.

  Lube, nitrile gloves, a butt plug, a rather small dildo, and something he didn’t know what it was because he hadn’t gotten a good enough look at it.

  “You are not the only one who has gone a few days without relief, my dear boy,” Landry said. “We have another week together before Cris returns, which means you are now my sole source of amusement.” His smile widened. “You lucky boy.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Anything you wish to add to tonight’s hard limit list before we get started in earnest?”

  “No, Sir.”

  Landry asked him this every time they played.

  Bob’s answer always remained the same.

  His hard limits were that they couldn’t interfere with his work, do anything to permanently scar, mark, or harm him, allow others to play with him…

  And that was pretty much it. While Landry didn’t play with a safeword with him, Bob was allowed to speak during scenes to say if it was getting too intense. Landry was a heavy sadist, but he’d never taken Bob too far or ignored him when he needed Landry to give him a minute. Landry always paused and waited, rubbed in especially hard hits.

  Now Bob’s cock twitched whenever Landry’s hands touched his flesh. Even over something as innocuous as stroking his arm when they were both fully dressed.

  Something the sadist relished reinforcing.

  “This weekend,” Landry said, “you will be starting a new level of training. I’ve discussed this with Cris and Tilly, and they’ve signed off on it. If you wish to call them now to discuss it, we can pause while you do that.”

  “No, Sir. I trust you.”

  And Bob did. Not once had the trio ever lied to him. If anything, they always erred on the side of caution. If one of them said something, it meant all of them stood behind it.

  He never tried to play one of them against the others. There was no reason to stoop to childish games like that.

  “Thank you, boy. Your trust means a lot to me. The more you please me, the more of this kind of play we’ll engage in. I have a strong feeling you are going to…come to enjoy it.” A thick chuckle rumbled through him. “I wish to work toward one of my stated goals with you.”

  Bob’s pulse raced. “Training me to come on command, Sir?”

  “Excellent.” That earned him another hair ruffle. “You are my very smart boy. That’s exactly right. And it’s not the only goal we’ll begin to pursue this weekend. Hands and knees, boy, but wait for my order to clean up your mess.”

  Bob did, waiting. He’d no doubt leave more of a puddle under him in the process.

  At least he knew the tile floor was clean. Landry had made him wipe down this section right before his phone call—even though Bob had thoroughly scrubbed the kitchen floor yesterday afternoon—before having him kneel.

  Landry pulled a glove onto his right hand and squirted a generous dollop of lube on his fingers. “The brain is a wonderfully malleable beast. Especially considering that it’s the body’s largest sex organ.”

  Fingers touched Bob’s rim, and he gasped as Landry quickly worked him up to two fingers. There was the familiar, slight pinching burn as Landry scissored his fingers in Bob’s ass.

  His cock twitched, eager, knowing something fun would be happening soon.

  “Do not come, boy,” Landry said. “But clean up your mess like a good boy while I get you ready.”

  Bob leaned in, butt high in the air with Landry’s two fingers slowly stroking inside Bob’s ass. Then Landry grabbed Bob’s hair with his left hand and held on tight as Bob licked up the puddle.

  “Excellent, boy. Such a good boy,” he cooed. Landry’s fingers slid out of Bob’s ass, then a whine escaped Bob as Landry started working a third finger inside his tight channel.

  “I know, boy, I know. You’ve taken three for me before, plenty of times. Relax and push and breathe through it. I have faith in you.”

  Bob did. He had long ago quit trying to label himself. Straight, bi, pan—whatever. The connection he had with the trio surpassed any mere word save one.

  Trust.

  He had complete trust in them.

  Landry slowly stroked him with three fingers, then stopped, twisting his hand.

  Fingers brushed over his gland, making Bob freeze and whine.

  “That’s the spot, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Excellent.” Landry slowly rubbed it. As he did, he leaned in, his bare chest pressed against Bob’s body, until his lips were at Bob’s left ear.

  “Does it feel good, boy?”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “Who owns you?”

  “You do, Sir.”

  “That’s right, I do.” His fingers withdrew a little, making Bob arch his back as he tried to keep them in contact with his prostate.

  Landry chuckled. “Ah, that’s exactly the response I’d hoped to see.” Landry’s fingers lightly pressed against Bob’s gland again. “My sweet Tilly did such a good job of training you long before we met, didn’t she? Making you eager to please no matter the torment?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Time for my training to take over,” he whispered. “Do you wish to serve me in whatever way I choose?”

  “Yes, Sir, please!”

  Landry sat up, pressing his left hand between Bob’s shoulders. The puddle was now licked up, but what Landry wanted was clear.

  Stay.

  Landry reached for something, then the fingers disappeared from Bob’s ass, only to be replaced by the butt plug.

  Bob whined as Landry slowly fucked it into his ass. Slightly larger at its widest point than Landry’s three fingers, but he’d had this butt plug in plenty of times before and knew he could take it.

  Getting it in was the tricky part.

  The hand returned to his back. “Be my good boy and take it for me. Make me happy.”

  Bob breathed through it, pushing out as Landry worked it inside him. Bob let out a gasp of relief as he made it past the widest part and his body eagerly sucked it into place between his ass cheeks.

  Landry stripped the glove off and lightly slapped Bob’s ass. “Excellent, boy. Stay.” He stood, disposed of the glove, washed his hands, then grabbed the dildo.

  Bob wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen with that, but since his ass was now plugged, he had a suspicion.

  Sliding a kitchen chair in front of Bob, Landry sat and spread his legs. He held the base of the dildo in his right hand, pressed against his crotch, over his jeans.

  It wasn’t nearly as big as Landry’s cock, which he’d seen plenty of times, even if he hadn’t actually touched it yet.

  Landry wore a devilish grin. “Something new today, boy. You’ve seen Cris and Tilly worship my cock. Let me see what you’ve got.”

  Chapter Three

  Bob rose onto his knees, automatically clasping his hands behind him the way Cris always did when giving Landry cock worship.

  “Good boy. Very observant. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do with your hands.” Landry threaded the fingers of his left hand in Bob’s hair, guiding him in and onto the dildo. Wasn’t the first time Bob had ever sucked a toy. There was a penis gag Tilly was particularly fond of using on him.

  This was the first time he’d ever been told to simulate an actual blow job, though.

  The butt plug pressed against his gland with every movement he made.

  He stared up at Landry as he wrapped his lips around the silicone toy, a pink one, but realistically shaped like an erect, circumcised cock.

  Landry’s green gaze burned down at him, followed by a sharp sucking of air. “Yessss, that’s it, boy. Explore it. Pretend it’s my flesh-and-blood cock. Show me how much you want to please me.”

  It’d been…well, years since he’d had a blow job. The Kim and Kylee era.

  He tried not to think about them as he maintained eye contact with Landry and licked and sucked his way deeper onto the toy. As it grew wet from Bob’s
spit, Landry started urging him to take more of it in, go deeper, with insistent pressure from his left hand on the back of Bob’s head.

  “Good boy,” he cooed. “Such a very handsome pet you are. I told Tilly that, when she lets us lift restrictions, I will likely be spending a weekend with you as my puppy with my cock in your mouth.”

  Another shiver rushed through Bob. He could see it, too, every bit of it.

  Even more, he wanted it.

  Landry’s eyes narrowed as his smile widened. “That was a yes, I take it?”

  “Yes, Sir,” he mumbled around the fake cock.

  Landry sighed. “Ohhh, cock-speak. Better than gag-speak. Now, boy, let’s work on your gag reflex. This is only a six-incher.”

  It took him the better part of thirty minutes to finally be able to get the toy all the way into his mouth and hold it there without gagging on it, with Landry talking him through how to breathe with it at the same time. All the while, Landry’s fist tightly held Bob’s hair even as Landry moved his right hand out of the way and held the toy’s base pinched between two fingers so that Bob’s nose was pressed against the denim outlining Landry’s hard cock.

  “Very good, boy. Now pull off and hold just the head in your mouth. I enjoy feeling a tongue playing with it. Trace the ridge around the head, and lick along the slit.”

  Bob did, losing all track of time as he worked through his first real lesson on worshipping a cock.

  He hoped this meant there would be the real thing in his near future.

  Finally, Landry’s grip in his hair changed, stroking now. “Sit back.”

  Bob did.

  Landry unfastened his belt and jeans, opening them and shoving his briefs down enough that his hard, engorged cock sprang free.

  The sadist smiled, holding the toy beside it in comparison. Landry was nearly three inches longer, and fatter, plus he had a foreskin.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll have you worked up to appropriate-sized toys before you get to the real thing.” He leaned forward, cupping Bob’s chin. “Who do you belong to?”

  “You, Sir.”