Time Out of Mind [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations ManLove)

by Tymber Dalton

  “My ass, boy. That’s my ass, my cock, my mouth. Not yours. I own you, so I own them, too.”

  “Yes, Sir! Please fuck your ass!”

  Doyle chuckled and leaned in to kiss him. “Okay, that does sound a little silly. I think the proper subbie syntax should be, ‘Please fuck your boy’s ass.’”

  “Please fuck your boy’s ass, Sir!”

  “Mmm.” One finger slipped through Mevi’s rim, drawing a long, low moan from him as Doyle slowly fucked him with it. “You beg sooo nicely, boy. Be prepared to do a lot of begging in the future.” He continued to fuck him with his finger.

  When he added a little more lube and started working a second finger in, that’s when Mevi whined, the pinching burn momentarily taking the edge off his need. Doyle slowly fucked him with two fingers, leaning in and occasionally sucking on Mevi’s cock as he did. As he scissored his fingers in Mevi’s ass, he swirled his tongue around the head of his cock.

  This was…amazing.

  No wonder sex had never been a big deal to him. It’d never been this good. Sex with Bonnie had mostly been a way to sleep in bed with her and not be alone. An excuse to cuddle all night just to have human contact. He couldn’t even count how many times he’d faked it with her, since they always used a condom for intercourse. A quick withdrawal and trip to the bathroom to dispose of it and she was none the wiser.

  Sometimes she’d been able to get him over sucking him off, but only if he fantasized about guys while she did.

  Both Doyle’s mouth and fingers disappeared. Mevi lifted his head to look. Doyle took the butt plug and pressed the tip of it against his rim, gently pushing. As he slowly started fucking it into Mevi’s ass, Doyle arched an eyebrow at him. “Push against it, just a little.”

  He did, gasping when it suddenly slid into place. It wasn’t a bad feeling, it was just…different.

  He couldn’t wait until it was Doyle’s cock.

  “Good boy.” Doyle stood and walked into the bathroom. Mevi heard water running, and he returned a moment later. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt. “We’re going to start the evening with you over my lap and getting a spanking, because I want to make that sweet ass of yours nice and red before I fuck you.” He dropped his shirt onto the pile of clothes already on the floor and worked on his slacks.

  Once he did that, he climbed onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard, and patted his lap. “Head on my left because I’m a righty.” He smiled. “Skills test since I’m making you do it with your hands tied.”

  Mevi managed to get rolled over and edge his way up the bed to where Doyle was smiling at him. Every movement made the plug in his ass rub against really good nerve endings he’d never even known were there in the first place.

  Holy crap!

  * * * *

  Shoving away thoughts of the rest of the world, it was all Doyle could do not to sadistically giggle as he watched Mevi struggle to get rolled over and up the bed to stretch out over his lap. From the pre-cum still dripping from Mevi’s stiff cock, Doyle knew he had a good chance of his boy exploding.

  Once Mevi was stretched out over his thighs, Doyle took a moment to slowly stroke his back, his shoulders.

  “My sweet, perfect boy,” he said. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t wanted to do this to you for a while.” His right hand squeezed Mevi’s left ass cheek, then the right. With his left hand cupped around the back of Mevi’s neck to keep him in place, he started spanking him. Not as hard as he could, but not just playing, either. Every few strokes, he played with the base of the butt plug, pressing on it, not pulling it all the way out but fucking him with it a little.

  Every time he did, it made Mevi moan, stirring Doyle’s cock.

  Finally, once both of his ass cheeks bore a nice, pink glow over the marks Tilly had left there from their last session, Doyle patted the top of Mevi’s head. “Sit up, boy.”

  He slowly got up, and Doyle was happy to see he looked completely subspacey.

  He patted the bed next to him. “Lie down. On your back.”

  He did.

  Doyle climbed between his legs. “I have a feeling I won’t have any trouble getting you hard again, so you have permission to come.” He swallowed Mevi’s cock, loving the deep, throaty moans rolling from the man.

  Especially when he started playing with the butt plug again.

  It didn’t take long, less than a couple of minutes, for Doyle to suck the first one out of Mevi. As Mevi started to come, his back arching, Doyle hooked his arms around the man’s thighs to keep him in place, refusing to stop. He wanted to milk every last drop from him, wanted to swallow it, feast on him. He eased up as the last hot, tangy drops of cum stopped flowing, but he didn’t release Mevi’s cock. Instead, he gently sucked, licking, wanting to get him hard again.

  At some point, he wanted his boy to fuck him, too.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight, he would totally own Mevi, show him how good things were going to be between them.

  It took a little while to get him hard again, but Doyle didn’t mind. He was having fun playing with his boy. Once he got him hard, he climbed up Mevi’s body, straddling him, leaning in to kiss him.

  Mevi’s lips parted and Doyle swallowed his soft moan when he reached down and tweaked Mevi’s nipples. He kissed his way down Mevi’s throat, nipping and sucking and enjoying himself. Finally, when his own cock couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled the butt plug out and dropped it on the towel. Grabbing a condom, he rolled it on, added more lube, and then nudged the head of his cock against Mevi’s rim.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  Mevi did, his frantic, needy squirming finally stilling.

  “Ask.”

  It was a desperate, frantic whisper. “Please fuck your boy’s ass, Sir!”

  He raised Mevi’s legs to his shoulders and leaned in, watching his face, wishing he could freeze this moment in time. “Do you want to be mine?”

  “Please make this boy yours!”

  He eased forward, reaching down and grabbing Mevi’s hard cock and slowly stroking as he did. The man’s deliciously tight ass squeezed his cock every slowly gained bit of the way. He didn’t force it, he savored it, realizing that maybe stuff he never understood that had happened in his past had all led him to this beautiful, perfect moment.

  * * * *

  Doyle’s weight pinned Mevi to the bed, preventing him from rocking against his cock, forcing it through his rim. He wanted him in, deep, completely. With his hands bound, he couldn’t do anything but stare into Doyle’s eyes as, slow thrust by slow thrust, he gained ground each time before withdrawing just to press forward again.

  Part of him felt like a virgin again—and, of course, in some ways, he was. He felt reborn, renewed, a chance to be who he was meant to be.

  Under this beautiful man.

  “Give it to me, baby,” Doyle softly said. “I want you.”

  Mevi whined, the delicate knife’s edge Doyle kept him hovering on between the sweet ache in his ass and the amazing sensation of someone else’s hand on his cock spinning him down into beautiful depths.

  Finally, Doyle was all the way in, his balls pressing against Mevi’s ass. “You can come, boy,” he said. “I want you to come. I want to feel this gorgeous ass milking my cock.”

  He wanted to try, if nothing else to make his Sir happy, to bring him pleasure. He started trying to rock, now able to a little as Doyle sat up, moving with him, withdrawing nearly to the head of his cock before slowly stroking in again and hitting his sweet spot in the process.

  All while patiently stroking Mevi’s cock with his hand, slowly milking him.

  “I think my boy will be getting a lot of morning spankings and giving me a lot of morning blow jobs,” Doyle said, staring down into his eyes. “How does that sound?”

  “Good, Sir. Your boy will do anything.”

  Doyle paused, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m sure you will. And I promise, I belong to you just as much as you belong to me. Onl
y you, baby. Now give your Sir another orgasm. Be my good boy.”

  Nearly frantic now, Mevi started trying to rock his hips again, Doyle once again moving with him until, finally, he felt the start of it deep in his balls. As Doyle’s hand stroked harder, faster, Mevi’s ass contracted around Doyle’s cock buried inside him, and that was the final trigger Doyle needed.

  “Good boy!” Doyle’s thrusts increased in speed, strength, and that seemed to prolong and intensify Mevi’s release. Bottoming out with every stroke, Doyle relentlessly fucked him, until he moaned and made an O face that Mevi fell even more in love with than he’d already been.

  Doyle now sated, his hand disappeared from Mevi’s cock and he leaned in, kissing him.

  “My good boy,” he whispered. “My perfect, sweet boy. Love you so damn much.”

  “Love you, too, Sir.”

  They cleaned up in the shower before falling into bed together, where Doyle then proceeded to make love to Mevi, letting Mevi suck his cock until he was finally rewarded with his very first mouthful of cum.

  As he fell asleep in Doyle’s arms, Mevi realized this was heaven.

  And for the first time in years, he realized he was looking forward to seeing the morning.

  Chapter Eighteen

  They settled into a new routine over the next several weeks, and Mevi only accidentally killed one phone in the process. Doyle started doing phone counseling sessions for The Compound, usually in the late morning. Mornings were Mevi’s best working time, after breakfast and before lunch. So once morning spankings were over, sometimes Doyle would send him downstairs with a butt plug in to work, or sometimes with a well-fucked ass.

  Mevi’s reward was a lunchtime orgasm he had to beg for.

  It didn’t matter if it was their new relationship, or finally feeling like he was actually living, but Mevi’s mind raced in good ways, coming up with material he knew wouldn’t have been accessible in his brain months ago.

  He felt like he’d slipped into a perfectly shaped place where he belonged.

  And he realized he hardly ever craved a drink anymore. On the rare times he did, he immediately stopped what he was doing and found Doyle, kneeling next to him so Doyle could stroke his hair. If Doyle was on a phone call, Mevi waited for him to finish before speaking what he needed.

  If Doyle wasn’t, he waited for Doyle to ask him what he needed.

  Usually, a session over Doyle’s lap, a quick spanking, and Doyle’s voice whispering in his ear what a good boy he was.

  Those times completely drove the urge to drink out of his mind, something he never thought possible.

  Time out of mind wasn’t just a euphemism for him anymore. He could achieve it with Doyle’s help.

  That wasn’t his only coping technique. He started doing tai chi with him every morning, as well as learning how to meditate, and then daily exercise helped, too.

  As the time for them to head to Chicago grew closer, some of Mevi’s anxiety returned, and he worried what would happen during the times Doyle wasn’t there, knowing the man couldn’t travel with him forever.

  “How am I going to do this without you, Sir?” he asked.

  Doyle cupped his face in his hands. “You’ll do fine. You’re my boy, and I have faith in you.”

  “What about when you aren’t there, Sir?” Mevi asked him, hating that he felt borderline whiny but still wanting Doyle’s comforting presence there. “I’ll wear your collar or whatever you want to give me as a collar. Or tattoo it on my flesh. That would be even better, Sir.”

  Doyle palmed his cheek. “This means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”

  “It means everything, Sir.”

  Seeming to think about it for a moment, Doyle said, “Hold on.” He walked over to his computer bag and dug through it, returning with a black permanent marker.

  Taking Mevi’s right hand, he turned his wrist over and inked two symbols there, a semi-colon and something that looked like a rune, familiar, but Mevi couldn’t place it immediately.

  “We’ll redo those every day,” Doyle said. “Several times a day, as needed, so they don’t fade. When I’m not with you, you draw them on yourself and keep refreshing them.”

  “What do they mean?”

  “The semi-colon is used to indicate that your story isn’t over. Where you could have inserted a period at any time, ending your story, but you chose to keep trying. The other is what’s called a binding rune.”

  He dug his personal keys out of his pocket, and that’s when Mevi saw the pewter charm on his keys.

  Of course. He’d seen it before but hadn’t paid much attention to it.

  “It’s a mix of two runes, Raido, which is for travel, and Algiz, which is for protection. Safe travel. This was my mom’s.”

  Doyle brought Mevi’s wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss over the marks there. “Let’s get you through the tour first. We’re not going to have a lot of alone time together until it’s over. It’s only a few months. Then we can take a break together, go somewhere alone, and decide what we do from there.”

  Panic threatened to set in. “Don’t you want to be with me?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve risked a lot because I love you. However, I also don’t want you to do something you can’t take back. If you get to the end of the tour and decide you don’t even want to look at me anymore, I don’t want you resenting me because I put a permanent mark on you. Plus there are times I can’t be with you because I need to work.”

  He pulled Mevi in for a kiss. “Use these marks as a reminder, as a new habit, as a meditation. Do it every morning and several times throughout the day. Tell everyone you need a few minutes alone to center yourself. They’ll understand. They know what you went through.”

  It became part of their daily ritual, Mevi even getting hard when he took the marker to Doyle, knelt, and presented it and his wrist to him to re-ink them. While he desperately didn’t want to be without his Sir, Doyle was right that he could focus on this, think of him.

  And he desperately wanted to be Sir’s good boy and make him proud.

  * * * *

  Doyle knew it probably wasn’t healthy, but he took all of his issues, securely bagged them up, and chucked them into an unused mental room where he locked them away behind a door labeled Look at Later.

  Right now, Mevi was the important one. Getting him on the tour, getting him through the tour.

  Doyle knew he had trust and abandonment issues of his own to work through, and this wasn’t an ideal situation, but he had to trust Mevi.

  Mevi certainly trusted him.

  If it couldn’t be a two-way street, they’d be doomed before they even started.

  The afternoon before they were supposed to leave for Chicago, Doyle set up a surprise for Mevi. In what had been Mevi’s bedroom, he arranged his implements from the toybag and called Mevi in.

  Now that they were together, Mevi hadn’t played with Tilly again, even though they’d had dinner there several times and still went over nearly every day so Mevi could exercise. Doyle had also spaced out their own play sessions to about once a week, not wanting to burn him out and wanting to give him time to heal up between them.

  This would be their last one for a while. He’d be stopping by the storage unit in the morning on their way out of Sarasota, leaving his bag, not able to take it with him traveling. Besides, there’d be too much risk of someone hearing something, or nosy housekeepers discovering it and taking pictures and selling them or something.

  Meaning Doyle would have to be creative, but he’d manage.

  They’d also be dropping off a few things they wouldn’t need, like the guitar and music stands, and a few extra kinky goodies they’d picked up while there. Once the concert tour was over, Mevi would be returning to Florida with Doyle for a mini vacation together, and they could get them then. Just a few months away.

  While Mevi was waiting on the bedroom floor, in his formal bow position, Doyle finished arranging everything before turning to him.

&
nbsp; “Sit up.”

  Mevi moved smoothly, as if he was born for this, for turning Doyle’s every fantasy into flesh and blood.

  Doyle shoved his shorts off and stood in front of Mevi, who was already opening his mouth in eager anticipation. For a man who’d never sucked a cock before they were together, he’d proven he was eager, willing, and damn good at it.

  Doyle held Mevi’s head and slowly fed his cock to him, knowing Mevi would sit there for hours, if he asked it, doing just that. But he didn’t want this load down his boy’s throat.

  “You’re going to do something for me today, boy,” he softly said. “I’m going to fuck that sweet ass after I put my marks on it. Then you’re going to fuck me.”

  This was something they hadn’t done yet, simply because he could tell Mevi was a total bottom. He’d be happy doing nothing but serving Doyle, wanted nothing to do with anything that remotely resembled “topping,” in Mevi’s mind. Previous times when he’d hinted and given Mevi a choice, Mevi always chose to catch, not pitch.

  Mevi’s gaze stared up at him, eyes already glazed as he was hitting subspace. Doyle hadn’t pressed this issue, but he wanted to do it before they were on tour and Mevi’s stress went through the roof. He wouldn’t add to it, and trying to work through this was extra stress for Mevi.

  But Doyle hoped he’d come up with a way, for today, to ease Mevi into the idea without it stressing him too much. Later, when they got through the tour and had some downtime together, he’d work on training Mevi to enjoy it as much as he enjoyed everything else they’d done so far, gently breaking down those barriers in his mind so he equated fucking his Sir with making his Sir happy and following his Sir’s orders like a good boy.

  “Hands.”

  Mevi raised his hands, wrists together, ready for the rope. Even as Mevi sucked Doyle’s cock, Doyle quickly bound the man’s wrists together with rope. He would, some day, order him collar and cuffs.

  Not now.

  Right now, he enjoyed the look of his boy, bare except for the inked marks on his wrist. Mevi loved rope, and had spent several evenings completely bound and immobilized on the couch with Doyle, watching TV while Doyle took his time working up to an orgasm, using Mevi’s mouth or ass or both at his leisure before letting Mevi come.