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Caine wasn’t particularly sure how he’d been talked into the position he’d ended up in. Yet here he was. The chair was comfortable, but his position wasn’t. He’s found himself completely naked, the ink black of his skin shifting against the plush velvet of the cushions. Queenie stands behind him, her hands carefully winding rope around his forearms which are pressed firmly against the small of his back.
“Is that comfortable?” she asks, her voice cool against the right side of his upper jaw.
He tests the binding, then nods. “Y- yes,” he says, a slight tremble to his voice. A moment later, the ropes cinch tighter, the roughness biting into his virtual skin. He lets out a soft, incredibly pitiful whine at the feeling.
“Better?” she asks, and he nods quickly, his arms now rendered completely immobile.
He could get out if he needed to. In fact, he’d been given explicit permission to remove himself if needed. It came with the stipulation of being right outside so they could find him if that happened, but he didn’t think he would. There was a curiosity burning in the pit of his stomach and he knew this might be the way to solve it.
“Good boy,” she murmurs, and pulls him back. The position makes him push his chest out, bared to the man on the bed across from him.
Kinger sits with his robe already hanging open. His legs are those of the mannequins, and there’s a softness to his belly that Caine had never thought the wood of his skin could show. In his hand is on his cock, stroking slowly. It’s hypnotic, and Caine can’t take his eyes off of him.
A rope is threaded across his chest, the rough texture is scratchy against his skin. “Darling,” Queenie says, “I know he’s enjoying the sight of you, but would you be a dear and get his legs?” She sounds so casual, as if he isn’t already achingly hard against his own belly.
“Of course,” Kinger stands, his robe falling the rest of the way off. He strides over, the light shining off the smooth wood of his torso and chest.
A second rope joins the first across Caine’s own chest, just under his pecs. His eyes are locked on Kinger though, watching as he picks up a second length of rope and slowly unwinds it.
“Red was a good choice,” he says, sounding just as effortlessly casual as Queenie, “It’s so striking against his skin. He starts high on Caine’s calf, lacing the rope down along his leg until it’s fully restrained to the chair. The pattern is mimicked on the other side as Queenie finishes.
Then Kinger pauses. He looks up at Caine with his head tilted to the side as if debating something. Caine doesn’t want to see what Queenie is doing. She’s still fully dressed, stepping over to the drawers beside the bed.
Kinger’s mouth is on his thigh. He doesn’t know how, but it is. It’s hot and wet and makes Caine’s code go all fuzzy as the other man licks and sucks his way to where Caine desperately wants him. The kisses burn as Kinger makes his way up the length of Caine’s cock. His hands slide down, squeezing and toying with his balls, making him moan lewdly.
His head falls back and his wrists twist against the ropes holding him in place as the blissful heat of Kinger’s mouth envelops his cock. His tongue lolls out of his mouth and his eyes roll. It’s incredible, beyond anything he’d ever thought was possible. He’d had some experience of pleasure, but only with AI creations. This is nothing like that. Kinger’s head bobs, his free hand bracing on Caine’s knee as if he might close his legs. The coded muscles in his belly contract and he feels as if he might bluescreen.
“Kinger-” he whines, “That feels- Please-” He shifts his hips, as if he can work himself deeper into the other man's throat. He looks up, and there’s Queenie.
She’s shed her own robe now, and he finally sees just what she’s been hiding beneath it. The smooth dark wood of her breasts and the way her legs shift into mannequin legs in the same way as her husbands. She’s standing, watching the show with an almost amused expression and a device in her hands. It’s black, with a rubber end and several buttons on one side.
“He’s had enough darling,” she says, her tone cool yet commanding.
Kinger pulls away slowly, pressing one last kiss to the tip of Caine’s cock before he’s moving out of her way. The loss leaves Caine squirming and whining, his hips trying to buck for the other. He’s panting, unable to catch his breath as Queenie takes her husband's place. She lays the device against Caine’s thigh, the rubber head of it pressing just to the side of his cock, then she begins lacing it into place.
“Y’know my favorite part of this place?” she says, “I don’t have to worry about charging my toys.. They can just run as looong as I want them too..” She looks up at Caine, and even without a mouth he has the distinct feeling that she’s smiling at him. He swallows, his saliva feeling thick in his throat. “I think a low setting would be perfect for tonight,” she continues, tying the binding holding the toy in place with a lovely little bow, “If you decide you want to do this again, we’ll do a higher one.” She stands, grabbing his lower jaw and pulling him into a kiss.
He lets himself get lost in it, his tongue running over where her mouth should be as she licks back. There’s a soft click, and the toy starts to buzz. He can feel it against his skin, just millimeters away from where he wants it. It’s soft, maddeningly low. He slumps, a new whine escaping him.
Her hand grips his lower jaw, forcing him to look at her. “God you’re pathetic,” she murmurs, and it sounds so loving. He leans into her hand, hips squirming to get the toy closer to the base of his cock, “Now be a good boy for us Caine, and enjoy the show.”
She steps back, and he can see Kinger’s hands are on her hips. He watches his hands, his processors torn between the buzzing and the way those silly gloves slide up the length of Queenie’s torso to cup her breasts. His breathing is coming in short pants as Kinger kisses the length of her neck, murmuring something into her wooden skin.
He backs up so they’re continuing to face Caine, letting him see everything. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling her back into his lap, her legs falling open on either side of his so she’s on full display. One of Kinger’s hands trail down the plane of her stomach to her vulva, his fingers sliding between the lips and spreading her open so Caine can see every part of her.
“Isn’t she beautiful,” Kinger says, his voice low and husky. The hand on her chest is pinching her nipple, and she’s making the loveliest sounds in response. Her chest presses into his hand, making him laugh against her neck, “Tell her how lovely she is Caine,” he continues, his fingers dipping down to circle her clit, “After all, she’s putting on a show for you.”
Caine doesn’t think he can speak. He can see just how wet she is. It’s shining on her thighs and the fingers that Kinger is dipping into her. But he needs to speak, needs to do whatever the others want. “Gorgeous,” he manages, his hips working, trying to get the toy where he wants it, “Queenie- You’re beautiful- a dream- fantastical-” He can see the blush rising in her cheeks.
Kinger slides two fingers into her and she moans. Caine feels a moan slide out of him as well. He can imagine how it must feel. How thick Kinger’s fingers would feel pressing into him. He could cum from just that thought alone if the damn toy was half a millimeter closer. He whines as he watches Kinger’s hand move, pumping into her. Her own hand is on his cheek, the other braced behind herself.
“Good boy Caine,” Kinger says, his gaze momentarily flicking to the tied up AI, “She tastes wonderful you know.. Should I taste her?” His hand switches breasts and Caine can hear the way her breath hitches. He knows Kinger is grinding his palm against her clit, working her body in all the ways he’s learned how over the years.
“Yes,” the word is barely a breath. He doesn’t care if his view of her will be blocked. It doesn’t matter, not when she’s writhing against him like that. Sweat beading on the dark planes of her form.
“Please-” she moans and Caine lets out a desperate whine of his own. Hearing her beg, how badly she wants him. He would do anything to be where she is. To be kneeling before her, his tongue lapping at her cunt, while Kinger held her open for him.
The pair shift, Kinger laying her out on the sheets with her legs spread for him. Her knees are bent, feet planted against the blankets. Kinger lays over her, leaning down to kiss her. It’s strange the way their avatars seem to press together where mouths should be. But Caine can hear the wet sound of their lips and tongues. He wants to kiss them too. He strains against the ropes holding him back. His cock leaks onto his belly, the pearly white precum standing out brightly on his inky skin.
He watches as Kingers kisses trail down her body until he’s hidden from view by her legs. He can see her hand gripping the cross on the top of the other man's head. She lets her head fall back against the sheets, panting softly. Then she’s arching off the bed with the most sinful moan, censor bars pop up as she lets out a string of swears. Her body rolls and Caine can see Kinger’s hand reaching up to toy with her breast. He can hear the lewd sound of his tongue in her cunt.
Caine lets out a high whine, bucking his hips. The buzzing toy is driving him to insanity, but he doesn’t want them to stop. Not when she’s babbling and begging. Her usual commanding demeanor lost in the pleasure of her husband's practiced tongue between her legs. Her eyes roll back and her free hand grips the pillow behind her. “Kinger-” she moans, “Holy f[%*#$]k- yes- right there-”
The sight of her pleasure is almost enough for Caine. It’s almost enough to push him over the edge and have him spilling across his stomach and the velvet of the chair. He can feel his code glitching and wavering. But he doesn’t want this to end. Not yet.
Queenie arches again. A desperate moan tears from her throat and her legs wrap around Kinger’s shoulders, heels sliding against the smooth wood of his back in an attempt to press into where his spine should be.
“F[&#@%]k!” she cries out, “‘M close- ‘m so f[^#@&]kin’ close- Don’t stop!” Her eyes are screwed shut now, her body rolling and writhing against the blankets. Caine doesn’t want Kinger to stop either. He wants to see every second. He wants to watch her every move and memorise it all. He wants to be where Kinger is, tasting her. Or bent over her with his tongue on her breast. He wants to be closer, touching her. Or under Kinger sucking that lovely cock of his.
Her grip tightens and she cries out. A string of curses break into moans as her body pulls taut. Something snaps and she goes lax, her hips rolling against Kinger’s tongue as her words melt into desperate pleads.
Kinger sits back, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. The wood still shines with her. He’s breathing heavily, his iris’ are merely thin rings of blue around blown pupils as he looks down at her. Caine wonders how she must look from such an angle. It must be quite the beautiful sight.
He watches, his own breathing ragged as Kinger pulls her into his lap, turning her so they’re in the same position they were before. Her legs spread over his as she leans back against him. Caine wonders who he’d rather be. Kinger with a beautiful woman on his lap, or Queenie who can definitely feel Kinger’s hard cock against her ass.
Kinger’s hands hook under her thighs. “C’mon love,” he murmurs against her throat, “Show’s not over yet. Let’s let him see just how pretty you can be..”
“Please-” Caine whines, his hips rutting against the toy, “Please- I’ll be good- please-”
He watches as Kinger lifts her. She leans back against him, reaching down to wrap a hand around his cock. As she’s lowered, she guides the length into herself. They both moan, and Caine lets out the most pitiful whine. He watches as Kinger lifts her again, and lowers her back down. He can see the slight bulge created by the angle and it’s beautiful. She rolls her hips fucking herself on his length and Caine can see the way his cheeks flush in pure pleasure.
He can imagine how it must feel, being filled with such a lovely cock. He wants to be there with them, his tongue on her clit, tasting her as Kinger fucks her. The pace picks up and her hands search for anything to hold on to. They settle on her breasts as Kinger thrusts up into her, pinching and rolling her own nipples between her fingers.
The sight is one Caine will never be able to forget. He tugs at the ropes around his wrist, able to feel them cutting into his digital skin. If he’d had blood, he would’ve lost circulation in his hands and never even noticed. His hips work in time with Kinger’s thrusts and he can feel himself finally possibly getting closer to that elusive cliffs edge.
“‘M close,” he can hear Kinger grunt out. He opens his eyes, not even sure when he’d shut them. He wants to memorize this, tuck it away in his servers so that only he can access it on lonely nights.
“Inside,” Queenie says, turning and pulling him into a kiss that leaves a trail of spit from his mouth to hers, “I want him to see it dripping out of me.”
Kinger nods and the pace slows. He pulls her down once, twice, and grinds into her with a low moan of pure satisfaction. His eyes roll back and his hands slide from her thighs to her hips. Caine can already see the cum dripping from her, leaking out around Kinger’s thick length.
Kinger lifts her off of himself and the sight of his cum smeared across her slick soaked thighs is all it takes. Caine’s eyes roll back and he bluescreens as his spills across his own stomach, cumming untouched.
It takes him a moment longer than usual to reboot, all of his processors are firing off at once in the most pleasurable way. But when he finally blinks back to consciousness the toy is gone and Kinger is cleaning him off with a warm towel. He wants to say he can get it himself, but his mind feels rather jelly-like. The ropes around his arms loosen, and next thing he knows he’s wrapped around one of them while they’re wrapped around the other, all curled up in the warmth of a bed. He doesn’t usually sleep, he has too much work to do. But for tonight, it might just be nice.