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  “Oh hell yeah,” Birch made himself comfortable, curled up in one of the easy chairs that Cash had scattered around the office, “Bring my double team fantasies to life.”

  “I doubt it will be quite that simple,” Cash said ruefully.

  They chatted easily for a few minutes until there was a brisk knock on the door, and Ms. Sara, Head of Contract Assignment, swept into the room.

  A striking woman in her early forties, she was immaculately dressed in formal business attire, sky-high heels, and her hair was swept up in a perfect chignon. Birch knew she had been one of the very first legal Venditores and was whispered about by newer generations as the O.C. – Original Courtesan – Birch was willing to bet that back in the day she had brought many men to their knees.

  Ms. Sara settled primly into the chair opposite Cash’s desk. She gently placed a stack of files in front of her and then kicked off her shoes. “I have fucking had enough of this week, and it’s only Wednesday,” she said as she hiked up her tight skirt and lifting a leg began to vigorously massage an aching foot.

  Cash grinned, and Birch sniggered.

  “Don’t you two start,” she says, “I had Ash Gannon on the warpath yesterday. He hijacked my contract interview, and now he’s demanding advanced BDSM courses for the laziest Venditor we employ. You’d think the guy owned the place, the way he stamps around here.”

  “He’s one of the geese that laid the golden egg,” Cash said reasonably, “The work 3M facilitates brings in three times as much revenue as the straight forward contracts now.

  “Orders from on high are to give Ash Gannon access to anything he wants and, if possible, put a bow on top of it.

  “And you can complain, but I had to witness him spank his husband yesterday. It was mortifying.”

  Birch giggled again, and Cash looked at him, trying to be stern, “You didn’t hear me say that,” he ordered, “You already get access to more information than you should by virtue of being the person least likely to use it to leverage anyone, but let’s be discrete,”

  “I suppose we should be more formal,” Ms. Sara said, “this is a contract meeting.” She pulled herself together with visible effort and straightened in her seat, “I’ve looked over everything, and while I think you have the right Venditor, Cash, I have serious concerns about this contract.”

  Birch picked up Ms. Sara’s cues and slid into his listening headspace, looking for ways he could help.

  Cash sighed, “I agree.” He turned to Birch and slid a folder across the table towards him, “Have a quick scan of this please Birch, and then we’ll discuss if this is something you would be comfortable taking on. All jokes about double-teaming aside, I warn you, it’s tough,”

  “It is,” Ms. Sara agreed as Birch picked up the file, “I think it is a lot to ask of any Venditor. Ménage contacts are nothing new, but normally they are married hetero couples wanting to spice things up with a smutty holiday. This is different, these are two Doms with wildly incompatible kinks, and I just don’t understand why they aren’t going for two different Venditores. If it was a question of finances, surely they could just settle for less contract time.”

  “Again, I agree,” Cash nodded, “And I did put that option on the table, but they turned it down point-blank, and in my professional opinion, I don’t think they even know why they turned it down.

  “However, this is a situation where a Venditor is much more than a transitory pleasure. This is a difficult but loving marriage, and the right Venditor could relieve the strain in it.”

  Intrigued, Birch opened the file and started to read while Ms. Sara and Cash quietly discussed the ongoing drama with Ash Gannon of 3M and a Venditor called Painter.

  It was immediately apparent to Birch that whichever Venditor took on this contract, he had to possess a highly empathic personality as well as a wide range of kink experience.

  The more he read, the more he felt overwhelming sympathy for the two Doms involved. They had a stable and successful marriage but were sexually incompatible to a degree that was heart-breaking, in his opinion.

  He read to the end of the file because he was a thorough and responsible young man, and while he trusted Cash and Ms. Sara, he knew he needed to be prepared if he was to succeed with this contract. He would likely read this file multiple times if he took the contract.

  “What do you think?” asked Cash eventually, his face was expressionless, and Birch knew that if he turned this contract down, there would be no repercussions for him whatsoever. Delphic was absolutely clear about that, a Venditor could say no at any point.

  “I’m interested,” he said, “I’d like to know more, but I am very interested.”

  “You haven’t worked a contract like this before Birch,” Ms. Sara said, “If this was two totally separate contracts, I would not allow you to take them both at the same time. This means I am having difficulty in reconciling why we should let you take it just because they are both in the same location!”

  Cash nodded in agreement.

  “I think,” said Birch slowly, “That this is very clearly a single contract. It is a two Dominants but a single marriage, and I think I would treat that as a unit but with a broader range of kinks than is typical.

  “I have had contracts where Emptores have had particular and non-related fetishes that they enjoyed at different times, so I think that’s comparable. And I am very interested in the ménage aspect.”

  “The ménage aspect is not a given,” Cash pointed out, “They consider that the most minor of the requirements as it may never arise.”

  “That would be a shame,” said Birch, “I’ve kinda had a kink for multiples for years even though I’ve never really done it, I like the idea though, I like the thought of being good for everyone,”

  “I get that Birch,” Cash said, “But if you take the contract, our primary role in this is to oversee you and support you. I think there are things these Emptores aren’t considering about the dynamic. While I don’t think they are purposefully disingenuous, I think it bears close supervision as issues may develop over time.

  “But this is all beside the point. We need to get you all in the same room and see how it feels.” He looked enquiringly at Ms. Sara.

  “I’m okay with it going to interview if you attend and Birch agrees,” she said,

  Birch nodded eagerly

  Cash frowned at him, “Please Birch, I need you to go into this with professional distance. I don’t want you doing this because your altruism tells you to. This is a job, and we’re going belt and braces on it,”

  Birch grinned, “Belt,” he smirked

  Cash rolled his eyes, “Are you sure you’re not a little?”

  “Nope, all grown up and ready to be fucked”

  “You are a nightmare,” Cash said, and Ms. Sara smothered a smile, “I’m going to send your details over to the Emptores now. I have provisionally set up an appointment, but I’ll confirm it, and I will be coming with you.”

  Birch pouted at him, “I don’t need you to babysit me,”

  “No, but you need someone to make sure you don’t sacrifice yourself on the nearest altar!” Cash pointed out.

  “I just feel sorry for them,” Birch said.

  “So do I,” said Cash, “I don’t know if I like them, but I certainly feel sorry for them,”

  Ms. Sara nodded in agreement with that too.

  Chapter Three - Griffin

  It wasn’t the worst meeting Griffin had ever had, but it certainly hadn’t been the best. He hadn’t covered himself in glory, and if Dr. Gregory hadn’t been as decent as he was, then his and Ivo’s dreams of a submissive Venditor would be dead in the dirt.

  Griffin slowly banged his head against the stone tile of the shower. He had been so close to losing it as soon as Dr. Gregory had raised the slightest concern. Griffin had instantly gotten aggressive, and while he was the CEO of a major metropolitan hospital, Dr. Gregory, for all his youth, was no pushover, and he had the weight of the Delphic Agency
behind him.

  They could have been blacklisted before they ever started because Griffin got defensive. Ivo had put his faith in Griffin to handle the contract negotiation, and he had nearly blown it, and he didn’t know why. Fuck he was a professional, and yet as soon as two Venditores were suggested, he got pissy as fuck.

  The water in the shower was lukewarm, a steady, soothing beat over Griffin’s tensed muscles. Don’t fixate on it now, Griffin thought, Don’t dwell on it, don’t let it take you down. It worked out. You’re meeting a Venditor, a compatible Venditor, there is one out there! Look on the positive side.

  He rested his head against the smooth stone tile, and the water streamed in waves down his body.

  God, he needed this to work. The desire was like a drumbeat in his head, growing stronger every day.

  He wondered what it would be like to finally indulge in the way he had wanted to for so long. Choreographing the slow testing of a submissive’s desire to please. He imagined skin stretched out for him to stimulate, a soft cock growing gradually harder as he bound wrists and ankles, blindfolded eyes, and then flicked his flogger over a body that vibrated under it rather than resisted.

  He had owned a flogger for years and had practiced with it meticulously. He had chosen deerskin, hand made, and perfectly balanced, not cheap. He loved the weight of it in his hand, the feel of the smooth rotation of his wrist when he trained. He imagined the sound of its falls drumming on plump rosy flesh.

  He reached down his body and found he was hard. He cupped his balls and rolled them slowly.

  He imagined nipples swollen and teased to blood flushed peaks by his mouth and his clamps and his fingers. He imagined the gasps when his flogger fell across the aching pebbled flesh of them.

  Slowly Griffin stroked his cock, his grip firm and measured. He flicked the thermostat on the shower, and the water grew hotter, he moaned and arched into the heat. His hand moved faster, and his mind conjured a faceless sub. Griffin concentrated, built the picture in his head until he could hear breathy moans and an obediently whispered Yes Sir, yes, please Sir.

  He looked down at this cock, he wasn’t a small man. He hefted his cock in his hand, his length was impressive, his girth substantial. He was bigger than Ivo, and that had never mattered before, but now it kind of did, because soon it would be sunk it into the clinging heat of a sub and the sub would feel it for days, an aching reminder of a Dominant.

  Griffin thumbed the head of his cock, teased the sensitive bundle of nerves underneath, pushed his arousal higher. He imagined the arch of a back beneath his hand. The sharpness of bone beneath his fingers as he gripped the cut of a hip and thrust forward.

  Griffin leaned forward, rested his forehead against his bent arm, and thrust into his own grip.

  He came with a muffled groan, painting the wall in front of him with ropes of white.

  His thighs shook, and the afterglow was a long lingering pulse of pleasure inside him. God, that was intense.

  He panted for a moment, alone in the warm steam and the drumming water. He should have shared that with Ivo. He shouldn’t have done that on his own, but he wanted the pictures in his head to just be him and the anonymous sub, just for once.

  Then he realized it wouldn’t be just for once. If this happened, it would be just him and the sub scening together frequently. Him and the sub, Ivo and the sub, both of them indulging themselves, in their own ways. Old fashioned guilt pricked him. But he knew it wouldn’t make any difference, he was still going to do this, they both were.

  He and Ivo tended to stick to mutual masturbation and blow jobs. Maybe one of them would bottom when they were on vacation, totally relaxed, and slightly drunk, but it was a rare thing, precious but rare. And Griffin could wonder all he liked about what this would do to them, but he knew that without it, they didn’t stand a chance. The drumbeats had got too loud for both of them.

  Griffin finished his shower and dried off. He loved Ivo so much, he knew Ivo loved him, but that missing thing, they had to have it, and they were both intelligent enough to know that.

  Griffin walked into their bedroom, still naked from the shower. Ivo was lying on the bed in his boxers, his sturdy body laid out on the chocolate brown comforter.

  “Nice long shower?” he asked, deadpan.

  “You fucker,” Griffin launched himself onto the bed, wrestling Ivo, “Why didn’t you join me,”

  Ivo smirked and bit his shoulder gently, “Who says I didn’t have my own ‘me time’ earlier?”

  “Did you?” asked Griffin.

  “No, but I wanted to,” Ivo said, “It was just off-putting listening to the baby residents bitching outside the shower stall at the hospital,”

  Griffin pressed a kiss to Ivo’s plump mouth, “Want me to take care of it for you now?” he asked.

  “No, I’m good,” Ivo said, “I’m actually really loving the build-up. You know me, all about the slow burn,” he paused, “What do you think he’ll be like?”

  Griffin rolled over onto his back and looked at the ceiling, “I can’t imagine,” he said, “I’m not sure I care,”

  They lay quietly for a moment, “Finally, eh?” Ivo said eventually.

  Griffin turned and grinned at him, “Yeah, finally,” He grasped his husband's hand, raised it to his lips and pressed a warm and sloppy kiss to his palm.

  Chapter Four - Birch

  The Emptores historic home was within an easy commute of Birch’s small cottage on the outskirts of the city. He could have jogged it if he wanted to arrive all sweaty. As it was, today he was in his suit, he wore a vest with it, because he liked to do the whole ensemble.

  Cashel was waiting for him in a nearby coffee shop, Birch had water, he didn’t want his breath to smell of coffee if he had to get up close and personal with an Emptore which was likely during interviews. He had never known Cashel attend an interview before, and if felt strange, he was more used to Ms. Sara with her firm command or Ms. Maisie with her breezy cheerfulness.

  The Emptores house was built of old red brick and managed to combine formal with whimsical by having turrets at the corners and a plethora of windows. It wasn’t as intimidating as some places Birch had been, and he found himself attracted to it. It felt sort of fairy tale. He imagined he was Beauty, and the beasts were inside – and then he realized that was probably not the most sensible thought to have in his head at this point.

  Cashel guided him up the broad stone steps to a porticoed entrance with stained glass doors. He rang the bell and fiddled with his tie. “Are you nervous?” Birch asked curiously.

  “I don’t do this often,” Cash said, “I prefer to stay at Delphic, I rarely leave the grounds, to be honest,”

  “You really need to get out more,” Birch said, he put his hand on Cash’s arm, “Don’t worry, I’ve done this loads!”

  A tall man with thick greying hair and a youthful face opened the door and smiled at them, Birch grinned back at him, wide and happy, “Hi,” he said without waiting for Cash to speak.

  “Hello again,” Cash said, having pulled himself together, “This is your potential Venditor. I hope we’re not early,”

  “Right on time, please come through, Iv..my husband is in the living room,”

  Most of the dividing walls on the ground floor had been removed to allow for larger rooms than the Victorian era provided, and the living room was spacious and sunny as a result. The floorboards were old and broad and freckled with marks and dings from age. A hundred times a hundred shoes would have danced across the floors, thought Birch, who wanted to do a soft shoe shuffle through the beams of sunlight that streamed in through the high windows.

  Two huge golden leather chesterfield sofas faced each other in front of the fireplace, and the Aubusson rug they sat on was old, it’s jewel colors muted with age. It would still be soft to kneel on though, Birch thought.

  His first impression of the Emptores was that they are nervous, more nervous than him, and this was something of a first for Birch, experi
enced submissive that he was. It would have put a lesser sub on edge, but Birch wanted to solve whatever was causing the tension in the room.

  The tall man who had answered the door did most of the talking and tried hard to appear relaxed. He wore a striped shirt and black tailored pants, he was very clean-shaven, and his gaze was direct and friendly. His blue eyes were fringed with thick black lashes, which contrasted with his silver-grey hair. His husband stood by the fireplace. He was shorter, darker, almost olive-skinned, and his eyes were nearly black. He had a beautiful mouth, Birch thought, all pouty and soft looking, and his chocolate colored eyes smoldered, but it was his hands that mesmerized Birch – long fingers, with smooth skin and his immaculate nails glowed. He didn’t take his eyes off Birch, and Birch smiled shyly at him.

  Cashel worked overtime as he tried to put everyone at their ease, and Birch broadcasting harmless vibes as he looked for a way into the conversation that would take the pressure off not only his colleague but the two gentlemen.

  After a flurry of offers of coffee which were politely declined, they made themselves comfortable on the sofas across from each other. Cash and Birch on one, the two Emptores opposite them. Birch noted that they pressed against each other when they sat, and his heart went out to them.

  Cashel ran through the Emptores requirements, and Birch observed them for any clues as to how they felt. He found them open but definitely nervous, and they seemed reluctant to ask him anything. After a few minutes, he laid his hand on Cashel’s arm and stopped him talking. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said, “But you seem ill at ease,” he smiled at them, “And that must be awful in your own home. Would you like me to tell you a bit about myself? Will that help?”

  The taller man, the one who had opened the door, said, “Thank you, we are rather new to all this, and yes, that would be helpful,” he looked at his husband, who nodded, his face expressionless.

  Birch smiled again, “Well, I’ve been a Venditor for five years. I have always undertaken specialist contracts because I’m a submissive through and through.”