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RAHIL

Rahil Zaman had worn nipple clips before, and he’d had so many different cock rings slid and shoved and twisted onto him that he’d lost count, and he’d been bound and gagged and on a couple occasions, worse. But this was something he swore he’d never felt before. This was everything. It was his whole body yearning both physically and emotionally, wanting for not merely touch and pressure and a pretty form to watch as it happened, but for this specific man, this perfect, wonderful man, to take him, skin, bone, and soul.

It was, in ways, how he’d felt with Shefali, and yet it wasn’t—because Shefali had taken his heart long before his body had thought to want her. With Mercer, the attention he’d initially stolen from Rahil’s cock had been the thing to shift to a deep, overwhelming love. And back when he’d been with Shefali, he hadn’t even known he could ask for something like this from her. Goddamn, was it good .

Rahil stared down through the open lines of his shirt, past the weights that tugged and pinched at his tender nipples, to Mercer’s hands as he slowly tightened the cock ring into place, and from the center of his being, Rahil ached . He’d never been a particular fan of his own dick—it wasn’t large, or thick, just a piece of him that served a purpose—but as the meld of twisting metal and silicone slowly tightened into place around it, Mercer’s fingers so gentle in their support, Rahil wasn’t sure he’d seen a more lovely part of himself. Every brush of skin on skin there made him sway under his bondage, and every slow but sure tightening drew a whimper out of him. Mercer’s warm breath made him shudder and when Merc finally let go, shifting back to admire his handiwork, Rahil’s desperation felt like a wild beast.

“How is this?” Mercer asked, looking up at Rahil with the slightest smirk on his otherwise stoic expression. “Be honest.”

“Vile,” Rahil replied. “And perfect.”

“That’s not very descriptive for one of so many words.” Mercer stood, fiddling with the blindfold still loosely necklacing his collarbones. “Perhaps this will help.”

Rahil’s heart skipped a beat as the silky fabric was pressed over his eyes and his world narrowed to the sensations of his skin and the flutters of indistinct movement. He flinched instinctively as Mercer glided a single finger down his navel, the touch so sudden that the soft tingle of it was multiplied into something delirious and overwhelming. The moan that slipped out of him felt like it came from nowhere and everywhere.

“Better?” Mercer asked.

“Maybe for you ,” Rahil grumbled, and waited for another touch, a prod, a pinch even.

What he was not expecting was the cold glide of a new pair of cords wrapping around his shoulders and chest in elaborate loops and twists. For a moment, he couldn’t figure out what Mercer was going for, until the cords slid between his thighs to cup them, looping down his legs. Slowly, the whole trap lifted him. He could feel the touch of air on his hole as his ass was guided up, his legs spread and knees bent, until he was suspended on his belly with his bare feet tucked toward the ceiling.

He’d lost all sense of direction, all knowledge of where Mercer was in relation to himself, so when two slick fingers dragged up his entrance, his head went light and a shuddering rush ran through him. Rahil bit into his own lip with a gasped, “Ah, fuck .”

“Describe it for me,” Mercer hummed, as calm as ever. “As a baseline.”

That was doing things to him too—things he didn’t realize were possible—like the contained, casual way Mercer was approaching this was making Rahil’s body fall apart all the faster and harder. As Mercer rubbed a fresh spot of lube across Rahil’s opening, pressing his fingertips inside, Rahil gasped. “Like you’re fucking with me. I can feel the wet of your fingertips with my whole goddamned body, and when you press me open—” He hissed as Mercer did it again, this time with more force. “It’s like—like you’re threatening to take me apart.”

“Good.” Mercer withdrew his touch, and it felt like a void, like Rahil’s body was tingling against a great nothingness, until out of the darkness, a palm smacked vibrantly into his right ass cheek, sending a cascade of sensation through him.

“That stings,” Rahil grunted.

“And?”

He groaned, wondering how badly this would come back to haunt him. “And it makes my dick ache, and my insides ache and my balls—”

His words turned to a hiss as Mercer slapped his other ass cheek. He patted it gently after, sending tingles across the tender skin. “You’re lucky my collection doesn’t contain any paddles at the moment.”

“Mhmm,” was all Rahil could manage.

Fingers stroked through the stray hairs around Rahil’s face and he could feel Mercer’s breath on his forehead as the man whispered, “You’re doing lovely, babe.”

Those four words turned every lingering hint of pain into a cascade of pleasure. Rahil could feel himself beaming, but he couldn’t help it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “Can I have a kiss?”

For a moment, it seemed he’d scared Mercer off, but then the faintest press of lips met the corner of Rahil’s, Mercer’s hand cupping the other side of Rahil’s face for stability. It was so gentle, so hesitant , that when Mercer pinched the skin of Rahil’s dick a moment later, his world shattered.

“Torture,” he muttered, as soon as he found his breath.

“As you say.” Mercer was already somewhere behind him again.

Rahil wiggled a little in his bonds, his ass already aching to be filled. Anticipation and want and dread all warred in his chest, racketing up his heart rate and making every inch of his skin hypersensitive. When Mercer’s palm slid against his belly for support, Rahil was so prepared for any kind of touch that he moaned from just the gentle contact. Then something pressed inside him.

His breath caught in a high, wondrous sound.

“Good boy,” Mercer murmured, stroking Rahil’s belly as he slowly adjusted the dildo in and out. “Now describe it for me.”

“Cool and solid. And good. I can feel the pressure of the tip, rolling—oh god .” He could see nothing, but he could sense his own lashes fluttering against the blindfold as his eyes fought to roll from the tender intrusion. “Is it… glass?”

“How brilliant you are.” Mercer’s voice was velvet and cherries, a dark, sweet thing that made Rahil want to melt, and he tugged on Rahil’s braid gently. As much as he’d loved the banter that had led them here, this new twist sent Rahil right over the edge.

He hummed the most desperate little happy sound of his life and succumbed to the glide of Mercer’s instrument. When Rahil’s tormenter removed it entirely, his insides felt loose and giddy. There was nothing but shuffling for a moment, and Rahil expected a new infliction, but instead he heard a sound like an ice-bucket being rattled. His spine went sharp.

“If you pour that—” he started, hollowly.

“Honey,” Mercer cut him off with an added pinch to his ass. “Shh.”

“Uhuh,” Rahil replied, feeling the tingle of a flush running down his chest. His cock shuddered.

He had far less warning this time, as Mercer gripped him at the same moment that he pushed a new toy into Rahil’s entrance, solid and hard as the last but properly cold . He sucked in a breath as it pressed deeper inside him, chilling his flesh and tightening the space the previous dildo had loosened. With each drag and thrust, the sensation turned ethereal, his nerves alight. He moaned, twisting against the bizarre affliction, and swore he could feel every molecule the dildo was made from, every icy micrometer that riddled his aching insides like a tease.

“Describe it for me,” Mercer purred.

And Rahil did.

Mercer tormented him in return, dragging the toy in and out, finding a hundred little pressure points Rahil hadn’t realized he possessed. Merc seemed to know exactly how hard to push to bring Rahil to the edge without letting him come. By the time Merc withdrew the toy, Rahil trembled in his bondage, his body limp and stiff all at once as he moaned.

“You’re being such a good boy.” Mercer cradling Rahil’s engorged dick as he said it, so tender in his stroking that it hurt. “Do you deserve your pleasure, now?”

“Please.” Rahil begged. “Fuck me.”

“Wouldn’t you just love that.” With his other hand, Mercer stroked Rahil’s entrance. “But I have something better.”

He let go.

The object he pressed against Rahil’s hole seemed, at first, only a little different than the other two, smooth and solid—metal perhaps—but as he pushed, the girth changed, stretching Rahil wider than he he’d ever felt. His ass tightened over a line of dynamic ridges and swells, sending flurries and a rough ecstasy up his spine and down the swollen length of his dick. It was his entire world now, that single point of strain and waves of pleasure that radiated from it as Mercer cooed to him, “Take it all for me, that’s it.”

It kept coming, every time Rahil thought it shouldn’t, thought surely he was full, Mercer found a way to stretch him further, taking him with such calming precision that it felt like being consumed from the inside. “Mhmm,” Rahil whispered, arching against the pressure. Somehow that only made the feeling grow.

“You’re doing so well,” Mercer teased him. “Just a little more, and then we can have fun.”

Rahil didn’t want to know what Mercer’s definition of fun was, and yet he would have done anything to have it inflicted upon him, would have suffered whatever Mercer wanted just for this moment of pain and pleasure, his lover’s hand on his ass and his body at the man’s will. The tiny, pleased hum Mercer gave rattled inside him. Then his world came apart as Mercer drew back the dildo and thrust.

The friction of it driven back and forth at breathless speed filled Rahil with white light, flurries of bliss shooting through him. He screamed. It lasted forever, a torrent of erratic sensation and ruthless pressure, all that force seeming to drive down his cock, until suddenly it was over, leaving him tingling and gasping, so loose and limp that he barely felt it as Mercer gently withdrew the toy.

A soft towel dabbed at him, cleaning him off before Mercer tenderly extricated the ring from his newly limp dick, and unclipped his nipples. He eased free the ropes so slowly that Rahil lost the moment where he shifted out of their hold and into Mercer’s arms, blinking himself to life with his head on Mercer’s shoulder as the blindfold slipped free.

“Mhhh,” he said, deliriously, squinting against the dim light as his eyes adjusted.

Mercer’s lips pressed against his forehead. “My good boy.”

“If you keep that up, I might literally never leave your shed,” Rahil grumbled, smiling against Mercer’s neck. He could still feel the fang caps muzzling him, and while he didn’t mind them, they seemed to have lost their purpose now. Mercer had given him everything, and now it was his turn to give back. He kissed Mercer’s skin, cupping his face, and as he reached between Mercer’s legs, he murmured, “Do you have something comfortable to sit on? I’d like to take care of you, too.”

Rahil didn’t have any specific expectation for how the rest of their evening would play out, but of all the reactions he had anticipated, the panicked way Mercer froze was not one of them. Mercer shook his shoulders with enough anxious force to dislodge Rahil’s affection, pulling his hips away. “No, it’s—” He shook his head. “It’s fine. I got plenty out of just that.”

Rahil’s whole chest mourned, not for the end to their intercourse, but for whatever was clearly hurting inside Mercer. He took a slow, stable step back, keeping one of his hands on Mercer’s arm as he found his lover’s gaze. Not just his lover, but his love . “Merc,” he said, gently, “you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. But please, babe, if we’re doing this—if we’re being together, not just here tonight in the shed, but going forward, then tell me what you do want from me, so I can give you that instead.”

For a moment, Mercer looked as though he might try to cover whatever he was feeling in a layer of stony solemnity. He dragged his hands over his face. Then slowly, deliberately, he opened his mouth, and pressed his lips to Rahil’s, and it felt like a second orgasm, this one in his heart.