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The ball gag wedged between his lips was a firm silicon and of the highest quality, plush enough for him to sink his teeth in hard when the strain became too much. It was strapped tightly around his head, the leather strap with his lovers’s last name burned into it digging into the skin at his neck and cheeks. The metal connecting the ball to the strap creaked as he flexed against it, his jaw tightening and loosening, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed excess saliva and yearned for something thick and further down his throat. His arms were folded behind his back, strapped together by a repurposed tie, rendering him unable to reach out. He was on his knees beneath the glass dining table, stripped naked, save a metal cage cupping his throbbing cock, slick arousal dripping from between the chains, pooling at the floor beneath his spread legs. And there was hours of it clinging to his skin, his thighs sticky, his balls aching. Hours of teetering on the edge and never being given relief. Hours of teasing, tormenting, denial. Hours of the most blissful hell. Because today was a very special day.
Today was Leon S. Redfield and Chris Redfield’s wedding anniversary. And for their anniversary, they’d made a very simple, but daunting request of their lover— of Piers Nivans. A request that Piers knew he’d never be able to deny, but one that would also bring him to his limits and beyond. A request that, if asked by the wrong person, would be his undoing.
Thank god he trusted these two men with his life. His sanity, on the other hand? At dire risk.
The day had been heavily negotiated the night before. They’d ordered in pizza and sat in Leon's office, discussing what they wanted and how much of it they wanted, clearing everything with Piers to the most minute detail. He couldn’t lie— it had become hard to focus on the intricacies of understanding and consenting as he’d become more and more excited with the two stoic men verbalizing their sexual intent with infuriating nonchalance. Piers wasn’t a choking kind of guy on paper, but when Chris was listing off the ways he could try it safely, and what limits he wanted to explore, it was hard for Piers to say no, simply out of sheer horniness. It was unfair to ask a man to think straight when Leon was articulating his desire to try more than three fingers. Piers was only human.
The negotiations had ended with agreements, and then both men had quickly and efficiently prepped Piers before they’d tucked in for bed. Just a plug, a new one that could keep him loose enough for the morning so there wouldn’t be a delay. It was a special day and a treat, after all, who wanted to waste time with the semantics? Piers had, actually, when seeing the plug they’d intended for him. A brand new plug of glossy black silicon, the thickest part smaller than either of his lover’s cocks, but the outside end of the plug shaped like a short little tail, also glossy black, and intentionally demeaning in its design. When Piers had first laid eyes on it, every instance of Jake teasingly calling him Leon and Chris’s puppy had flashed before his eyes while his cock had jumped in his boxers. These bastards.
Sleeping with that plug tucked inside was alright a nightmare, unable to lay on his back thanks to the tail. Even worse were his gorgeous men, both insisting on Piers being the middle of the sandwich for the night, despite Piers normally preferring to be on an outside edge with Leon in the middle. No such luck last night.
And then the sun had risen and the day had begun with an even worse torment— a cock cage, black metal with one red gemstone next to a blue gemstone sitting on the top of the first ring, the cage itself tightly-woven chainmail that didn’t make much noise. It was custom made, it had to be. Nothing standard on the market would be small enough to fit Piers’s cock. When Leon’s deft fingertips had cradled his soft length and tucked it into the metal cage, sealing it around him, in that moment, Piers had never felt more loved and more desperate.
To be honest, and going off the negotiations, he’d expected the day to consist of him being tossed over whatever surface was nearby and fucked stupid. He hadn’t expected what the day had turned out to be so far.
Where Piers had been anticipating hard and fast sex all hours of the day, he’d been given gentle touches, soothing words, aching brushes of fingertips like he was fragile, and endless tormenting. After the cage, Chris had scooped him up, carried Piers into the living room, put on Piers’s favorite movie and ran his hands up and down Piers’s exposed body while Leon had made breakfast. Chris’s hands hadn’t shied away either. He’d groped and fondled and explored, dipping warm fingertips between Piers’s thighs, beneath his balls, rubbing in slow circles around piers’s hole, but never penetrating. And when Leon had finished cooking, Leon had gone on his knees next to the safe, fed Piers his breakfast with his bare fucking hands, and then told Chris where to continue to touch. The nipples, the hips, the navel, all while expecting Piers to finish his breakfast, little bits of small-cut sausage and fruit and pastry pressed to Piers's lips that brushed Leon’s fingertips with every morsel fed.
It had dawned on Piers that his lovers hadn’t disclosed their intentions to spend the day doting upon Piers because that was the one thing he would’ve never been able to agree to. And by fucking god, was he glad they’d tricked him. He knew how hard it was to give in and let them take care of him. And he knew it was something they wanted more than anything. If this was how it had to happen? So be it.
But god— god. They were only halfway through the day now, and he was losing his mind. They hadn’t let him cum. They still hadn’t let him cum. And after breakfast had been time spent at the pool outside, Leon carrying Piers out to the backyard, the fifty-mile plot of land Leon owned and lived on perfect to hide the house in between the trees, allowing privacy even when outdoors. Leon had laid Piers out on one of the sunning chairs, kissing him sweetly and slowly, reaching down to cup Piers’s cock in the cage and hold him securely. Chris had driven into the water, getting in his customary cardio, swimming laps in the half-Olympic sized swimming pool.
Piers hadn’t had any idea what to expect after the stunning breakfast, so when Leon moved down, between Piers’s legs, lifted his thighs and hooked them over his shoulders, removing that infuriating plug and pressing his lips to Piers’s hole, only to spend thirty fucking minutes eating Piers out? Piers hadn’t been remotely ashamed to admit he’d started sobbing near the end of it. Unable to cum, gripping the supports of the lounge, babbling helplessly? For half a fucking hour? No man would last, especially not with Leon’s tongue pressing inside, thrusting, fucking, making Piers’s hole slippery. Piers had been sure he’d pass out, until Leon had suddenly moved his hips up, standing over the chair and bending Piers’s lower half up and over Piers’s own head. He’d definitely been crying, jumping as his caged cock had dripped precum across his own chest and face, his arousal painting his own skin. It had been demeaning, degrading, and yet so fucking hot.
Made even worse when Chris had climbed from the pool and come to his side, glistening from the water, going to Piers’s side and leaning in to drag his tongue across Piers’s face, cleaning the mess from him. Piers had lost time by then, and he’d only come back to himself to find Leon settled in Piers’s lap, jerking off hard, quickly cumming across Piers’s abdomen, thick ropes of white smattering across Piers’s skin. And above, Chris standing and doing the same, Piers mindlessly opening his mouth and letting his tongue hang, waiting to catch Chris’s cum as it arched across Piers’s face. He’d felt heady by the end of it, floaty and too hot, and his attentive lovers had returned the plug to where it belongs inside Piers, brought him indoors, brought him upstairs to the bedroom, laid Piers across Leon’s chest while Chris settled against the headboard to continue reading aloud the book they were currently reading together, and strapped a fucking hitachi wand to Piers’s plug.
These bastards.
Too low of a setting to get Piers off if the cage weren’t their to demand his inability regardless. Chris’s warm voice reading line after line, and Leon’s body beneath him, rising and falling with slow, relaxed breath. Piers honestly didn’t remember much of that even though it was only an hour or so ago, because he’d actually fallen asleep in the midst a couple of times, body pushed to the brink, and then jolted awake by the vibrations. Every time he slammed back into consciousness, he’d felt more and more of the slick arousal trickling down his skin. His poor cock couldn’t take this. He was going to die if they didn’t let him cum.
And then Leon had decided it was lunch time, and that was where Piers was now. On his knees beneath the glass dining table, cock dripping to the floor through the cage, that humiliating tail protruding from between his cheeks, and the gag strapped tight around his head— with a leash attached to the back of it that was tied off to the furthest table leg. It was taught, Piers having reached the limit of its length, and here he was, on his god damn knees, under the glass table, inches away from his lovers’s hard cocks. Chris and Leon were sitting side by side, legs splayed with ease, both of them eating above Piers’s head and their thick, reddened, glorious cocks pulled from their flies, standing tall and proud and so close Piers could feel their heat, but too far away for him to reach.
Piers was trembling. His spread thighs quivered, his heart was hammering out of his chest, his body was yearning for those cocks that were just barely too far away. He couldn’t look away.
Chris’s cock was thick in every meaning of the word, the swollen head larger than any toy Piers had ever owned. The sensitive nerves at the underside of the head glistening as Chris’s precum trailed down the thick vein. Piers watched it bob, then throb, as Leon chuckled at something overhead. The endearing realization that being able to make Leon laugh turned Chris on only barely registered past Piers’s current insanity.
Leon’s cock wasn’t as thick, but it was longer, and by two incredible inches. Just looking at it, Piers could remember how it felt plunging inside his body, punching the air from Piers’s lungs, rearranging Piers from the inside out to force him to accommodate that awe-inspiring length. He could feel his stomach quivering with the need to have that cock bruising his prostate again. He could feel his soul aching and begging for Leon to cum inside him again.
And then— with another soft chuckle from above— the leash suddenly slackened.
Piers was crawling forward on his knees before his mind could process the change, shoving his face against the closest cock, whimpering brokenly around the gag as he pressed his cheek to Chris’s fat shaft and let that precum smear across his temple, his cheekbone, his chin, some of it wet across his nose, some of it catching in his lashes. That chuckle deepened, and he knew one of them was probably laughing at Piers for his desperation, but he didn’t care. Nuzzling into the cock, teeth sinking so hard into the silicon he almost though he’d bite it in half, he shamelessly wedged himself between Chris’s—
“Nah-uh, pup,” Leon's smooth voice suddenly called out, reaching down and snagging Piers by the front of the leash, pulling him back and away from that cock. He looked up at Piers through the glass table with wide, pleading eyes, only for his lover to shake his head and— and shift, pressing his leg between Piers’s thighs. “You want a taste of your captain?” Leon purred. “You’re gonna hump my leg like a good boy. Show me how bad you want it.”
Shame was the first emotion to register in Piers’s gut, but the need quickly overshadowed it. His cheeks burned as he angled his hips and didn’t hesitate to do as told, captured by the intensity of Leon’s gaze overhead, nodding his helpless agreement as his body thrusted against that powerful leg, riding the sharp angle of Leon’s bone and the curve of his foot like a dog in heat. He could feel the silicon tail bobbing and tugging at his hole as he humped with wild abandon. He couldn’t imagine the shove of the cage was comfortable for Leon, but the way Leon’s cock was twitching with interest as he watched said otherwise. Piers’s moans were smothered into the gag, and he couldn’t deny that this felt incredible despite the humiliation—
“Such a good boy.”
— Especially when Leon said shit like that. The soft praise, the compliments, the reassurement that he was doing a good job. The same was completely banished and replaced by joy, knowing he was a good boy and he was good for his lovers, and he was good. This was amazing, this was incredible, it couldn’t get any—
And then Chris’s hand was behind Piers’s head, unlocking the gag that dropping from Piers’s lips, and replacing the silicon with that thick, pulsing cock.
Piers's eyes rolled into the back of his head as Chris slammed into him, the force of his first thrust demanding Piers’s throat open wide for him. It was almost painful, almost scary, and every bit exactly what Piers needed. He went pliant and obedient, Chris’s girth plundering his throat. The sound of Piers’s gagging went ignored, and he was grateful for Chris’s hand still at the back of his neck, tilting Piers’s head just right to make sure he could still breathe through his nose since Piers wasn’t able to ensure that himself. Piers’s hands were limp where they were secured behind his back as Chris claimed him, each thundering thrust slamming the back of and down his throat, Chris’s cock withdrawing with more and more saliva painting the shaft like lip gloss. Trails of spit stuck to Piers’s lips and cheeks and the tip of his nose, and lashes fluttered as every shove rolled his eyes back into his skull, again and again. His brain shut off. His body shut off, becoming nothing more than a willing hole for Chris to fuck, caged cock drooling between Piers’s legs. He felt his consciousness fading again, he felt himself floating away from his body, he felt—
He felt the burning hot brand of Chris’s cum suddenly spilling down his throat, so deep that Piers didn’t even need to swallow it down. Chris’s cock pulsed with the orgasm and Piers took it all because he was a good boy.
And then another hand was in his hair, dragging him off, barely giving Piers a second to give a wet gasp for air, before he was brought down on Leon’s cock, and holy fuck, holy fuck, this was heaven.
He failed to understand how this was a gift for Chris and Leon, because Piers was the one being given everything he’d ever dreamed of. Being shared between the two, objectified in the most exhilarating way by the only people he trusted to do this. To have his body be owned like this, to have his holes be so used without pause for consent. Granted, that consent had been given last night, but still. For Leon and Chris, who were normally so gentle and slow and communicative, to just take what they wanted without thought? This was all Piers had ever wanted.
Leon’s cock slide down Piers’s throat, a lot slower than Chris’s, but just as demanding, and reaching further, and—
“I can feel his cum inside you,” Leon murmured overhead, stroking the hollow of Piers’s cheek with a thumb. “God, baby. You know how much I love your sloppy seconds.”
Piers moaned weakly around Leon’s cock, nodding as best he could without choking again, and there was heat spilling down his cheeks. He leaned in, wanted Leon to move and take just like Chris had, wanting to feel that ache in his jaw, wanting to be Leon’s. And Leon mercifully provided, but again— slower. It had always been Leon’s M.O. to draw it out and make it torture. Forcing Piers to feel every single inch, one by one. The head of the cock caught in his throat with the arduous drag of in and out. The slow pace forced Piers to adapt and match his breathing to the time of Leon’s thrusts, breathing in as Leon drew out, brought out as Leon pushed in. It forced him to pay attention but to stop thinking all over, and he’d dared to glance up, only to be caught in Leon’s gaze again. The intensity of those eyes— the vulnerability of the positon— the warmth of being owned—
Leon’s expression flinched, and Piers moaned again, waiting— and then Leon came, just as Piers had seen across his face. The slow drag didn’t stop, spreading Leon’s cum across Piers’s tongue and further, and he swallowed it all down with joy. And when Leon was finished and pulled out, the man pushed Piers’s face into Leon’s inner thigh, and Piers gasped for breath to recover in that safe space, surrounded by his lover’s warmth.
The intensity of the scene faded, leaving Piers with reality once more. Holy fucking shit, he was so had it hurt After a few minutes of being cuddled so close, Piers squirmed, whining softly, his own cock throbbing with agony. He chanced a glance down and shivered at the mess pooling beneath him. But despite not being allowed to cum, his body felt at ease, trusting. He knew they would take care of him. He knew it.
He heard Chris push away from the table, and then felt Leon do the same, before he was lifted in Chris’s arms again, a soft whimper leaving his lips. His arms were still tied behind his back and his shoulders were starting to hurt, but Chris bent his head down to kiss Piers’s forehead as he carried him—
Oh fuck, oh god, not the spare bedroom that was always locked. Piers knew exactly what was behind those closed doors, and his heart sang with simultaneous terror and exhilaration. Leon grabbed the key from atop the doorframe and unlocked said door, pushing it up for Chris to bring Piers inside.
It would’ve been a guest room if Piers’s lovers were such relentless perverts. Leon’s normal interior design preferences were absent in this room. The bed at the far wall was severe and militaristic, four metal posts at each corner to secure a person’s spread limbs. It was a super comfortable mattress and the sheets were expensive silk, but with only ramp pillows at the head, it was obvious the bed wasn’t meant for sleeping. Against the wall was a mounting bench that Piers was very familiar with, as he was everything else in here, such a s the collection of toys on the dresser by the bathroom door, or the rarely used paddle, and the extra bottles of Chris’s preferred lube. But what Piers wasn’t familiar with? It hung dead center.
It was— a sort of net hanging from the ceiling like a swing. His cheeks flushed, and he knew it was like those sex saddles Leon had been texting him a week or so ago, asking if he’d be willing to try. Piers had foolishly answered yes, he was willing to try with Leon and Chris, but to know that his torturous day was coming with this as well? He’d never used one before, he wasn’t even sure how fun it would be. It was just a glorified swing. How useful could it really be?
Chris laid him carefully in the scoop of the fabric, and it felt like he was in a hammock, honestly. It was actually kinda comfortable, even with his arms still behind his back. And then Leon was working quickly around him, Piers’s cheeks flushing deeper as Leon started to—
“A-are you strapping me in?”
Jesus, his voice was rough. But he had to ask. It felt weird, the way Leon wove a soft Velcro over Piers’s waist, literally securing his body to the swing. “It’s to be safe,” Leon replied with a soft chuckle, bending down to kiss the valley of Piers’s chest. “Neither of us ever intend to hurt you, but you can never be too careful.” At least it wasn’t around Piers’s throat. He craned his neck, seeing a few more straps than he thought were needed for his torso. What else—
Then Leon had Piers’s leg in his hands, and he was folding it up to Piers’s chest, before those straps suddenly proved their use. Piers shuddered hard as Leon secured the folded leg to Piers’s chest, and moved to do the same with the other, forcing Piers to spread wide and open for his lovers. Oh fuck, this was the real BDSM shit that Leon was always so eager to try with them. Fuck, he was so depraved. Piers’s cock twitched weakly in its cage. They were all so perfect for each other.
With Piers secured and helpless in every meaning of the word, Chris stood at Piers’s bottom, while Leon was at his head. They both held out a hand above Piers’s head, fists bouncing three times, before Chris threw rock, and Leon threw paper. Chris cursed loudly while Leon practically cackled, before they both walked around Piers’s body, switching spots, with Leon at the bottom and Chris at the head.
His lovers had just thrown rock, paper, scissors, for a right to fuck Piers’s ass.
“I hate you both,” he grit out as his heart pounded treacherously. “I should—” He cut off with an embarrassingly wanton gasp as the plug was toyed with, tugged at gently. Piers sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, glancing down, always thrilled at the sight of Leon visibly enjoying himself with whatever the hell he got up to between Piers’s legs. He meant it, Leon was a pervert, and both he and Chris loved it so much. Things never got boring with Leon.
“You’re so fucking cute with this,” Leon murmured as he tugged at it again, grinning when Piers fought to swallow a whine. “The little tail just makes all your wiggling twice as adorable and sassy. Your poor little hole’s been so neglected, huh? That’s how you’re acting. But don’t you remember how I ate you out only a few hours ago? You were begging me to stop then. Maybe you want me to do it again, since you’re obviously so desperate?”
“Leon,” Piers gasped, squirming in the swing, shivering at how his whole body rocked in the saddle. It would be way too easy for Leon to fuck Piers on his cock in this. Maybe it wasn’t so stupid after all. “D-don’t be a dick. C’mon.”
Leon paused. “... You know— I had every intention to show you a little mercy.” His hand comes down, fingertips dancing along the metal of the cage, Piers’s heart sinking. “But after that? Well. I hope you’ve got a lot left in you.”
The plug was all but yanked out, and Leon shoved himself inside to replace it without hesitation, his length dripping with lube and Piers unable to pull away. The scream that wrenched itself from Piers’s throat in finally having one of his lovers inside him echoed devastatingly in the room, but he knew this wasn’t going to be it. Leon always stood by his word, and Piers had pushed too far. And no one was as intimately familiar with Leon’s stamina as Piers was.
He lost himself again to the endless rhythm, but there was no gag or cock down his throat to stifle his otherwise humiliating sounds. Piers hated being loud, but sometimes he didn’t have a choice, and this was one of them. Leon fucked every cry and shout and sob right out of Piers’s belly, forcing the whimpers and weak little hiccups into the room. The pound of the cock on his prostate was maddening, and Piers had nowhere to run, strapped down and secured tight, a sleeve for his lover to fuck. The swing itself let Leon just bounce Piers down on his length with little to no effort, and Chris was holding onto the straps within his reach, assisting in the speed. Piers’s vision quickly blurred, and his ecstatic cries pitched higher and higher until they sounded more like a porn actress's than his own.
And Leon— Leon didn’t stop. FOr what felt like hours, Piers’s body was ravaged. Their life of war and exposure to all these BOWs and viruses had given Leon and Chris in particular a special concoction of stamina, energy, and recovery, and Piers was an eager victim. But what Piers wanted more than Leon’s stamina right now was—
“— in me,” Piers rasped, suddenly able to form words within the wanton cries, and were they filthy. “Cum in me, Leon, please! Please, please, please, cum in me, wanna feel you inside me, please! Fill me, fill me, I-I-I wanna be yours, cum in me, cum in me, cum—”
Leon snarled and Piers felt it. That flood of heat inside him, scorching like fire. His mantra broke away with a hiccuping sob of pleasure, body quivering as he felt wave after wave paint his body from the inside. His thighs trembled against the straps holding them down, his body wanting to close his legs shut and keep Leon inside him. That shame returned, a mild twist in his chest, as he, not for the first time, wished Leon’s flood of cum would knock him up for the blond man. He wanted to be Leon’s in every way physically possible. He wanted to be theirs.
Suddenly, Leon was pulling out, but Piers was too tired to protest. He hung limp in the swing, and he was pretty sure his dick was just going to fall off—
The straps were undone, and Piers felt himself slip into Chris’s familiar embrace. Someone undid the ones around his arms too, so he wrapped them around Chris’s neck, trusting his captain with his mind, body, and soul. He felt himself moving again, felt himself being carried to somewhere, and as light passed his eyelids, he opened them blearily again to see they’d returned once more to the bedroom.
“Oh no’,” he slurred into Chris’s shoulder. “No’ the vibra’or…”
Chris chuckled, the sensation reverberating through into Piers, more comforting than medicine. He felt a shift, and then he was lounging across Chris, twisted around so his back was to Chris’s chest. He could tell they were on the bed, and opened his eyes again, watching Leon crawled onto the bed on his knees. What were they planning—
Chris’s huge hands lifted him up, and Piers sobbed for the thousandth time as he was slowly lowered onto his captain’s ridiculously thick length. It felt like coming home, being filled by that man, so heavy and wide that it cleared all intelligent thought from Piers’s brain. And Chris was so strong that Piers didn’t need to do a damn thing except take it, letting himself be lifted up and down, the slide made just a little easier by Leon’s cum slicking Piers’s entrance. He could feel the tremor in Chris’s hands and knew the man was already so close. Numbly twisting his head, Piers tried to kiss Chris’s pulse, silently urging his captain to cum inside him too, on autopilot while he—
He felt nimble fingertips on the cage and Piers’s eyes flew wide as Leon under the lock, freeing Piers’s cock, and sunk down to take Piers’s short length across his tongue.
Piers was gone.
He could hear himself screaming as he came, and the sensation was so powerful that it almost was even pleasure. Wave after wave after wave, endless sensation electrifying his veins, a world-shattering orgasm that felt more like dying than anything else. His scream died into a sob as his weakly twitching cock spurt the last of his cum, but the sensation of orgasm continued. He felt it in his thighs, his chest, his belly, he felt everything knot up and release, and then start over again. His thighs felt even stickier, and he distantly knew Chris had cum inside him sometime between these terrifying, stilted aftershocks, but couldn’t do anything about any of it. Hands massaged his inner thighs, and hands ran up and down his chest. He was ramrod straight across them, as more of that pleasure shot through him like a bullet, dying just a moment, and then renewing.
Piers didn’t know how long it went on. Could’ve been minutes, maybe hours, maybe years, he had no fucking clue. But he did know that when he finally came out of it, he was laid on his side, sandwiched between the same two men he’d woken up with this morning. There was a slick squelch in the room, and he squirmed and gasped when he registered Leon’s fingers thrusting shallowly inside him, while Chris’s cock worked lazily between Piers’s thighs.
“You’re never gonna stop,” Piers panted, his own cock soft between his legs, but perking with interest. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Piers,” Chris chuckled into his ear as Leon spread his three fingers, and then slipped in a fourth. Fuck, Piers had never been this wet in his life. Holy fuck, he’d never been this wet, and it felt so fucking good. “After all— you agreed.”