Mateo had his phone in one hand and his dick in the other, tugging it lazily to one of his tried-and-true videos. Oral sex, tender shit, lots of hair-petting and vulnerable looks up. The kinda shit he just couldn’t seem to get from the nightclub hook-ups, as much as he tried. And this time around, the video wasn’t even getting him there. He sighed, tucking his cock back into his underwear, and pushed himself up to get to his dresser. Maybe one of the toys would help.

In the tiny open crack of one of the lower drawers, he caught a flash of movement. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he hissed. He wrenched it open violently and heard a thud and a squeak. No, no, not the pests again, he just had to do a whole move to avoid fucking pests. It must’ve been trying to escape through the hole in the back of the drawer─ that was what he got for buying all of his furniture secondhand─ and then fell into the drawer below when he pulled it back. Mateo closed the upper drawer and opened the lower, just in time to catch a tiny shoe disappearing into the mess of underwear. He lit up. A borrower. A little voyeur. 

Mateo sat down on the carpet and hooked his fingers over the edge of the drawer. “You’re trapped, aren’t you?” he teased. “Hiding in my underwear drawer. Not really helping your case, you think?” He reached in. The little lump dodged around and he heard frantic gasps. Oh, god, just adorable. He closed in on something a bit harder than its surroundings and wrapped his digits around it. Trembling little form. No attempts to bite or scratch or stab. The poor dear must’ve been scared to piss him off.

The borrower was a skinny thing, tussled hair ruddy but fading, clothed in all natural tones, obviously handmade. He was a man, Mateo was pretty sure. It was hard to tell when he was so wrapped up in the fetal position. Maybe he wasn’t voyeuring, then─or he was a gay borrower. Well, why couldn’t borrowers be gay? Just about every other animal could be.

Mateo stroked along his arms, trying to gently, gently tug them away from his head, and the borrower fought against him. “Can I just see your face?” No response. “You know, I only panicked because I thought you were a mouse. I don’t mind so much, if you’re not a mouse.”

Slowly, the borrower relented, looking up at him with wide eyes, guarded. He was cute. Adorable, yes, but cute in the way he’d call a human cute too. Round eyes, round lips, eyes and cheeks dark, the start of crow’s feet. Early 40s, maybe. Mateo stroked the side of his head and marveled at him, how soft his hair was, how his flinch away from Mateo’s touch was so barely noticeable. “What’s your name?” he whispered.

The borrower’s breath picked up, and abruptly he heard little squeaks and sobs from the reburied face.

“Oh!” he gasped. “Oh, no, no, hey, you’re okay.” He couldn’t explain it at all, but even if he couldn’t imagine hurting him, something about the poor little guy’s abject terror was exhilarating. Mateo held him in to his chest and stroked his back. When he felt tiny fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, he had to keep himself from crying too, he was so overwhelmed by intoxicating emotion. Was this why people abused them? For this absolute rush? Where was it even coming from, how was he making Mateo feel like this?

The borrower’s breaths became slow and labored. Somehow, his smothering attempt at comfort had actually worked. Mateo brought him back out and unwrapped his hands. The man looked up at him again, lower half of his face hidden behind his arm. Did he even realize what he was doing to him?

“I’m so sorry,” the borrower choked out. 

“Yeah? What are you sorry for?”

He blushed. So tiny, it seemed to take over his entire body. “For-for watching you.” He curled further in. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Hey, I’m just teasing.” Mateo snaked his fingertip down his chin to push his face back up. “You’re a cute mouse.” The borrower squeaked and he giggled. “What’s your name?”

He hesitated. “Farrow.”

“Farrow.” He tasted the name on his tongue. Farrow squirmed. “Little king. Do you watch me a lot?”

Averting his eyes, he nodded. 

His heart swelled, working up the courage for his next sentence. “Not very fair, is it? If I never get to watch you.”

Farrow’s head shot up. He shook again, his chest thrumming under Mateo’s fingers, but was it fear or desire? Could he even make the distinction? “You-you want me─“ He cut himself off with a yelp as Mateo’s thumb snuck along his torso.

“What do you do? When you’re watching.”

Farrow stared him head-on for a moment, like he was trying to figure out if this was some cruel joke. Without breaking eye contact (and God that made it all the sexier) he reached down and undid the frantic knot of his drawstring waistband. He slipped his hand underneath and began tugging cautiously at his dick. 

“Hey.” Mateo pinched his waistband. “I get to see, don’t I?”

Farrow pulled his hand out of his pants and shoved away the fingertips. “I don’t get it!” he snapped. “I’m sorry! I-I’ll stop, I promise, just-just whatever you’re trying to do, I don’t get it, please just let me go.” His voice threatened to break into sobs again.

“Why don’t you believe me?” 

“Because why!?” He gestured to himself broadly, the implications too obvious to even state. Tiny. Aging. Perv. 

“Farrow…” Mateo’s thumb came back into his personal space and nudged up his shirt. The muscles underneath spasmed and shook with breath. Mateo gasped. “Just looking at you is driving me crazy,” he muttered. “I’ve never met a borrower. You-you’re so tiny, like I can do anything to you, and─” Farrow’s eyes flashed with genuine terror. Mateo stiffened. “Not like that,” he insisted. “Like feeling you, in my hands… your little shaking body. So responsive to everything I do. It’s getting me so, so horny.” Farrow looked down and rubbed his hands together. Dammit. “I’ll let you leave,” he conceded. 

“No,” Farrow blurted out. “If-if you mean it. I mean, I don’t─” he gulped. “Please be gentle.”

Mateo slowly smiled, a little breathless. If the reaction didn’t seem so genuine, he would’ve assumed that Farrow was acting that bashful to turn him on even more. Mateo inched down his pants and growled a little, watching his tiny eager cock slip out, while Farrow looked pointedly away. “Show me your eyes,” Mateo commanded. To his delight, the poor little thing obeyed. His expression was disbelieving, vulnerable, like he still expected Mateo to turn cold and cruel at any second, mock him for daring to think a human would ever lust after a little creature like him. Mateo fought the urge to squeeze him.

He pinched Farrow’s wrist and guided it down to his legs, like he was posing a doll. Farrow’s first strokes were hesitant and robotic. The massive thumb sliding up under his shirt and making delicate circles around a nipple sent him over the edge. “Oh, fuck,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. Borrower swearing. Adorable. 

“Look at me,” Mateo snapped. 

Opening his eyes seemed to be agony. 

Mateo took his spare hand to his own cock and beamed as he saw Farrow sneaking glances. “You’re just so cute. Will you do whatever I say? Squeak for me, mouse.”

He obeyed. Sparks went flying in Mateo’s chest. Was this humiliating for him? Was he living out a fantasy he’d had ever since Mateo first moved in?

“Tell me to do something,” Mateo ordered.

“Fuck, fuck,” he hissed. “Please let me see your cock.”

He was disappointed, almost. He hoped for a moment of real boldness, for him to tell Mateo to suck him off or humiliate himself instead or praise him, worship his little body, but Mateo believed him, this was definitely what Farrow wanted more than anything. He would, though, he realized. He would happily bark like a dog or kiss the soles of those delicate feet, if it made the man tucked within his fingers shudder.

He brought his hand down near the floor so that his shaft loomed above Farrow, hiding him from view. Whimpers emanated from below. After a moment, he felt something almost like pinpricks. Tiny fingertips, on the very edge of sensation, trailed down his shaft, exploring his veins. The little hands pushed his skin around, creating a very gentle sort of pleasure, and they were finally joined by a spot of wetness and a quiet little pop. 

His heart fluttered. “Was that a kiss?”

“Is-is that okay?”

He brought his other hand down and felt for Farrow’s head to pet his hair. “Of course it is. Of course.”

Evidently, this was encouraging, because he felt licks a moment later. Farrow gripped around his glans to tug him down. Lips closed around his frenulum and he felt light sucking. Mateo hummed in pleasant surprise. Maybe this guy was more confident than he thought. Or at least very horny. 

“Sweet thing…” Mateo whispered. “That feels wonderful.” A shaky breath from underneath. Mateo took his spare hand to the base of his shaft and rubbed himself slow. He had only really let the borrower at his cock to indulge him. He hadn’t expected it to be this good. Mateo’s pleasure mounted in steady, even waves, and he moaned low and quiet as it bubbled over. The tiny sucks and licks at his ridge felt incredible as he came. God, what delicacy. Farrow kept going after the fact, dragging his tongue wide along his head, moving to his slit and dancing his tongue around the entrance. Mateo gasped sharply and tried to control his hips. With this size difference, if he just thrusted a little too fast, he could easily injure him.

A bit of post-nut clarity, maybe, but Farrow’s movements at his tip triggered a flash of recognition. The little circles of his tongue, the fingers sliding in along the bottom, the sucking on the top of his hole… those were cunnilingus techniques. The tiny man was eating out his urethra, instinctively honing in on a nonexistent clit. Not that it mattered much, but was he… bisexual?

Whatever, it felt way too good to be asking questions. He sat on his carpet, eyes closed, silent but for the occasional shaky moan and the wet squelches and smacks of Farrow’s mouth against his cum-wet passage. “Okay,” he finally blurted out. “O-okay, yeah, that’s good. I’m good.”

The stimulation retreated. Mateo cupped Farrow in both hands and held him at chest level. He gasped. A tiny splatter of cum dotted Farrow’s belly and his head was soaked completely. His hair was matted, his face covered, he’d evidently wiped away the gunk from his eyes and mouth best he could. His shirt had been abandoned to the floor, and Mateo’s seed rolled down onto his naked shoulders as well. Farrow met Mateo’s eyes, and then dodged his head away. Mateo choked down a laugh. He tried to wipe off Farrow’s hair. “Oh my God, I am so sorry, you poor thing.”

“It’s─it’s okay,” he muttered. 

“I’m cleaning you up. Let’s go.” He tucked his dick back in and walked to his bathroom, letting the sink water warm to a nice temperature at a light trickle. When he went to tug off those little shoes and pants, Farrow was so cooperative. Much more trusting than he had any logical reason to be. Especially with how badly Mateo wanted to just… keep him. If he slipped him into his coat pocket and drove straight to the pet store, would Farrow put up a fight? Would he look up at him through the glass walls of a cage with that same terror from when Mateo first grabbed him? The mental image drove him crazy.

He took his time running his thumbs over Farrow’s skin. Farrow slumped back against his fingers. What a privilege it was to see someone so vulnerable this relaxed. 

He muttered something. Mateo smiled. “Speak up a little?”

“I don’t wanna wake up,” he repeated.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, Farrow’s face fell. “Oh no,” he muttered. He suddenly sounded a lot less like some delicate ethereal creature and a lot more like a grown man. “I gotta go home. I gotta─ I gotta go.” He sat up, and when Mateo held him back down he panicked and fought against him, almost on instinct.

“Woah, woah, settle down. Your hair’s not even clean yet.”

Farrow gulped. “You… you’ll let me leave, right?”

God, he wanted to say no. “Of course I will.” He leaned down to the sink’s level, holding Farrow out in front of him. “Please don’t let this be the last time I see you. If I let you go, can you promise me that?”

The little man searched his eyes through the curtain of water trickling down his face. Still, he didn’t seem to trust what he was hearing, and Mateo was getting desperate to know what could get through to him. I want you desperately, little thing, and I still haven’t figured out why. Please at least give me a chance to figure out why. Was that too forward?

Farrow bit his fingernail and looked away. “Okay.”

He woke up to the smell of coffee and oatmeal, and was instantly washed with excitement and guilt. Finally, fucking Monday. Farrow turned over to an empty mattress. Patty was already well up, then. She’d been getting up pretty early recently. Earlier than him. She didn’t used to. Well, they were closing in on middle age, if they weren’t there already. Internal clocks were bound to shift. 

He pushed his feet onto the floor and blinked his eyes clear. Back when they snagged those LEDs, they had opted out of putting them in the bedrooms, so his vision was only lit by the light pouring in from the cracks in the wall. On top of the scents of human breakfast outside, he could smell the dust and wood of the old house, cut up into apartments for the modern era. Less so than usual, though. Patty had gone on an absolute cleaning rampage over the weekend. Miracle worker. Absolute angel.

The thought hit him like a fall from the kitchen counter: Farrow was the fucking worst.

But they hadn’t been getting along three months ago, all stressed and snappy, and now they were. His crimes were beyond egregious, but… there hadn’t been a slip. She hadn’t questioned his odd behavior, hadn’t headed out to check on him, like she sometimes would during one of his afternoon trips. Said she was too nervous, with the human still in the house. They were used to the rotating cast of young, first-real-job-types, living in a cheap one-bedroom like this, and she didn’t seem to mind this one in particular, but still, a whole human?

I don’t know where you get the braves , she teased him.

Oh, he’s sleepy in the mornings. He prayed she didn’t actually find that thought comforting. Stay in late, Patty baby, stay in as late as you want. 

Farrow dressed, full gear, and went to their kitchen where she stood at the counter mashing wild raspberry, probably from the bush right by the gutter. Hopefully the landlord wouldn’t notice it and cut it down just yet. Farrow wrapped his hands around her from behind and she hummed and stroked his rough chin.

“Kids still asleep?” he whispered.

“Feels like that’s all they do at this age,” she sighed back.

“Oh, they’re growing.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then let her go and went to grab his backpack.

“You sure you don’t want breakfast before you head out?” she teased.

“Soon as I’m back!” 

Patty smiled and tenderly rubbed her cheek. “Alright, sweetheart. Have fun, I love you.”

Another pang of guilt, and he snorted in an attempt to hide it. “Love you too.”

He booked it through the walls, eagerly following the rich smells and shuffling of human feet─subdued but still powerful. Ducking between supports, dodging tips of nails, almost caught his foot on a wire. Farrow was getting a little too anxious. He still had another half hour, probably, before Mateo headed out, no need to rush and injure himself. But showing up at the human’s feet with a bleeding shoulder, being cradled in those strong hands and fussed over, with that gentle voice…

Farrow snapped himself out of it. 

The front porch was on the exact opposite end of the house. The trek was arduous, but the more he could do to maximize the distance between his family and his sins, the better. Besides, ever since Mateo had first complimented his lean build… well, he didn’t mind having to move around so much. 

He shed his gear and slipped out in the living room, behind the console, and crept along the wall until he was within sprinting distance of the ajar front door. Not hiding from any humans, he reminded himself. Just the other borrowers. He dashed out, grabbed the edge of the wooden frame, and swung himself around onto the front porch, stumbling along the laminate threshold. Farrow looked up to Mateo’s face, reclining on the same wicker couch he always did before he left for work, roughly-constructed ceramic mug up to his mouth and a bowl sitting on the end table on his side. His dark eyes smiled as he finished his sip. Farrow watched in awe as he brought the mug back down to his lap. “My little mouse, right on time.”

Every weekday morning (Mateo woke up later than his teens did on weekends, meeting up just wasn’t feasible) Farrow had to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. The enclosed porch was painted white, floors, half walls, ceiling, everything, and the furniture was all pastels, giving Mateo, with his perfectly bouncy curls and draping green sweater for the fall chill, an ethereal glow. His arm swung down to the floor and Farrow walked to it, slowly, taking in the moment. Mateo’s fingers stroked along his hip before they tenderly wrapped around him, overloading his nose with brown sugar and cream. Mateo let him off on the cushion, straddled by his corduroys, right in front of his package. Stiff. 

A finger came down to stroke along his neck. “And how did it sleep, all cuddled up in the walls?”

Farrow’s eyes flickered anxiously between the gentle smile above and the raw allure of the beast right in front. “Very well,” he managed.

“Oh, it’s impatient.” He chuckled. “I can’t drink coffee at work anymore, you know. I’m too conditioned. It makes me hard.”

Farrow flushed. “Oh,” he giggled, breathlessly. To have that effect on him felt like an honor. “Sorry.”

When Mateo set his mug down on the end table, Farrow started bouncing his legs, unable to contain his excitement. Mateo unzipped his fly and tugged his cock out, a bead of liquid already sitting on its tip, and pushed his pelvis forward to keep it low, low enough for Farrow, even though he’d be more than happy to clamber up. Farrow approached. An inch away, within arm’s length, Mateo’s thumb met his chest. 

Farrow looked up, eyes wide. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth to ask why, saliva would spill out. 

Mateo licked his lips and smiled. “It’s just… my favorite moment. You’re so hungry.”

He nodded. The thumb stayed there, comfortably, and he got antsy. “Please?” he squeaked.

His hand retreated with a chuckle, and Farrow, leaning against it, stumbled face-first into hot flesh. He wiped pre off his nose and lapped at his cockhead, shoving his face against it as he felt called to, stroking and hugging along the edges.

“Oh, Farrow,” Mateo moaned. His own name sent shivers down his spine. “You just keep getting better.” 

He knew the routine by now. Mateo got noisier, breathed faster, and Farrow peeled away from his cock for just long enough to tear off his top and shoes. Couldn’t keep himself from another bout of licks before he broke again to slip into the nude, his flushed skin more than enough to compensate for the crisp breeze. Mateo’s hand gripped him, swinging him horizontal to press against his shaft. Oh, God, yes, finally. Skin on skin, musk enveloping him. Mateo scooted forward, reclining further and bringing Farrow back to his feet. Farrow leaned in, kissing and rubbing his cheeks against the underside of his cockhead, stretching out his fingers to rub the shaft.

Mateo giggled. “Nuzzling me like that… you’re almost like a cat.” Even though Farrow couldn’t see his face, the thumb petting his head still felt incredibly tender. “Marking your territory, are you? Claiming?”

Farrow wasn’t delusional. He saw the other humans Mateo brought home. And Mateo wasn’t naive. He knew Farrow was watching as often as he could.

“Could-could you do third person again?” Farrow asked.

“Marking its territory, is it?”

He let out a tiny groan and doubled his efforts. 

Mateo held him there, moving his own thumb along on the opposite side. His hips wriggled and bucked under Farrow’s feet. Mateo pulled his sweater up to his shoulders and tightened his grip on Farrow, bringing him away from his cock (no, no!) and dropping him onto his chest. Farrow didn’t dare protest─he got to work sucking and rubbing at his nipple with all the same energy. One of the gigantic hands tweaked the other nipple, and its twin tugged eagerly at his cock. That was Farrow’s main complaint about these encounters. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t seem to match the power of a human hand.

Mateo thrusted and moaned, mounting in volume until he abruptly quieted himself, probably remembering the risks of being heard on the other end of the apartment. “Do you want it, Farrow?” he hissed.

“Yes! Yes!” 

Mateo sat up, catching him as he tumbled off his chest, and held his little body in front of his cock. With a final stroke, cum coated Farrow’s chest, rolling down over his shoulders, along his hard dick, warming him almost to a point of intolerability. Within the second he was even hotter, breath washing over him, Mateo’s tongue cleaning him up as quickly as he could, his massive chest twisted down to protect his charge from any early-morning onlookers. Farrow rubbed the errant drops off his face and sucked on his hands before Mateo could drink it all up. Mateo’s turn to be impatient now, feeling every curve and flat with his tongue, nuzzling his lips along his shoulder and sucking lightly as he pulled out, producing a wet pop.

“No-no bruises,” Farrow whimpered.

“I won’t,” he said, as much as he clearly longed to mark his little doll.

His inner lip dragged along Farrow’s thigh. Farrow was on the edge of madness, gripping at the fingers behind him, contorting himself, when Mateo hissed the question:

“When are you gonna commit, Farrow?”

“Nn-” he groaned. “Mateo, please.”

Mateo smiled and teasingly pecked his stomach. Farrow yelped. “All this sneaking around… wouldn’t it be nice to have this whenever?”

“No… stop…”

“A simple dollhouse wouldn’t be too expensive.” He brought his lips against Farrow’s ear. “Cages are even cheaper.”

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” he gasped. “My-my family─”

“I can help them out. Maybe your lovely lady could join us.” Farrow’s desperate squealing made him smile. Fuck, it was a hot thought… but she would never, and even if she would she couldn’t see him like this. Right as he was learning how to take charge in their own bedroom? Mateo lapped his pelvis and Farrow gripped at his nose. “Only asking,” Mateo whispered with a giggle.

Finally, his mouth made contact with his dick. Farrow humped desperately at his massive tongue, moaning as it stroked him in turn, shoving his face into the curve of Mateo’s nose. His eye, looming right besides him, watched with a twinkle. These moments confused Farrow the most. How did he seem him? Cute, entertaining? With real lust? When he said “commit”... was he proposing an actual relationship? Would Mateo stop fucking other people if Farrow asked him to? Did he call him a mouse because Farrow liked it, or because that was what he saw?

For a moment, the stimulation stopped. “It’s spirited today,” Mateo muttered. Farrow cried out and lurched against his face. 

He laid in his hand, panting, regaining control. Farrow felt something odd and brought a hand to his cheek. Wet. He took a shuddery gasp and tried to wipe away the tears. Where the hell were those coming from?

He hazarded a glance up at Mateo and saw real concern. Mateo stroked Farrow’s head lightly and let him cuddle against his fingers. “Hey, hey,” he whispered. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I just─ I think─ I think I should go.”

Farrow sat, waiting, and Mateo didn’t put him down, just continued to frown. 

“Please?” 

Mateo nodded. “Just… Farrow, I want you to know. We don’t always have to fuck. Okay?”

“...Okay.”

Mateo gathered up the tiny articles of clothing flung about the cushion and handed them back before he gently let Farrow off on the floor. He was all composed again already, sweater fixed and pants zipped up─must’ve cleaned himself up while Farrow was preoccupied. Farrow rushed to tug on the bare minimum before he went to leave.

“Wait!” Mateo called out. Farrow turned around, a little reluctantly. He was holding his hand out again─ the end of a banana, a hunk of cheese, a few chocolate chips. “I, uh, I left these on the counter last night. Yeah?”

Duh. The whole reason he was supposedly out here. He nodded and returned to gather all the items up in his hands on top of his last bits of clothing. “Thank you,” he muttered. 

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Farrow dashed off, not looking back, collapsing down the second he reached his safe haven in the wall. No, no, no. Mateo was teasing him. He was a cute little animal, and he was fun to tease, and that was it and why the hell was he crying? Farrow took deep breaths. He had to calm himself. He couldn’t show up at home like this, red-eyed, shaky, confused. 

A few feet away from him, tucked behind some boxes on the porch’s opposite end, another borrower was also trying to calm herself.

Patty sucked at her fingers, sticky and sweet, and wiped her spit off on her pants. She relaxed into her bliss for a moment before she snapped back into reality. Fuck, she got caught up in the moment and forgot to leave before him. Well, he was encumbered now, so if she booked it she had a pretty good shot of making it back first, traveling the route on the opposite side.

Her journey home was so distracted─images of Farrow, dwarfed by a human cock, slathered in saliva, gasping and moaning, kept flashing back into her head. Memories to conjure up when he went down on her tonight. And just a month ago she was still convinced she was only voyeuring for his safety, watching so eagerly and regularly just to make sure he wasn’t in any danger, trying to ignore the way her heart caught in her throat. 

He’d be smelling of semen when he got home. Patty didn’t think he noticed it. She’d kiss him, he’d ask to help with food, she’d convince him to bathe before he did, she’d continue to fake innocent, make sure he made it to the front porch in the mornings, kept so fixated on his guilt that he didn’t notice she was acting as oddly as he was.

Muffled and distant, just on the edge of her hearing: “Oh, you sweet little thing.”

She shot to attention and dread filled her. The human said that. Could’ve been about anything─a bug, a plant, a mouse, an object. But she still hadn’t seen any sign of Farrow. Patty dashed to the front of the apartment to follow the sound. Just along the front wall of the building, she froze and nearly collapsed in her horror. Farrow’s gear. Left abandoned by the tunnel entrance. 

She heard Mateo gasping on the other side of the wall. Much, much quieter, a pained cry.

Oh, fuck. Her limbs went to jelly and she fully dropped to the ground. Her heart pounded. What could she do? How could she possibly oppose a human? She could… get closer. Wait for him to leave Farrow be for a second, or maybe reveal some key information she could use to fight back. Had Farrow already busted out the threats of cutting wires and opening pipes? Did they not work? She’d still do those things, of course, but what was the point if it wouldn’t save Farrow?

She heard Farrow whimpering something. She wanted to cry. “Oh, Farrow, keep talking,” he moaned. Holy shit, how did he get his NAME?

Steeling herself, Patty found a crack further down that led outside, and from there crept along the bushes to a crack on the exterior of the patio siding. She slipped in and found herself underneath the couch, creaking loudly above her. Mateo was moving. A lot, for someone who was sitting down. She moved along the edge of the wall, searching for a spot with a better view.

Farrow swore, quietly, interspersed with grunts and gasps. It sounded like… No. Fuck no.

“You look amazing like this,” Mateo whispered.

“Oh, fuck, Mateo,” he moaned in response.

Finally, they slid into her vision. Mateo was reclining on the couch, watching the nude man in his hands and nonstop grinding his hips into the cushion. Farrow’s legs were enclosed in a fist, his wrists pinned above his head by thumb and pointer, his back supported by the same hand. His long, lean body was stretched out, twitching muscles on clear display, cock standing tall. He was shaking, visible even from this distance, and when Mateo’s other thumb twitched up to stroke the underside of his dick he cried out and twisted his head to the side. Farrow thrashed against the hands, but they didn’t budge. “Please,” he whimpered. His voice threatened to break into a sob.

He did look amazing. 

“This is what you get for coming so early today,” Mateo said. “I’ve got all the time in the world, and I’m gonna use every second of it.” He punctuated with another gentle stroke up his cock.

Farrow squeezed his eyes shut and whined.

Coming so early today. Was this… not the first time? They seemed familiar. And Farrow was always really eager to get his morning run started as quickly as possible. This looked like torture for him… good torture. She really wouldn’t have expected this from him. Or from the human, clearly so turned on watching the little body writhing between his fingers.

Mateo’s thumb wiggled against him and Farrow had to bite down a scream. “I wish you’d let me take pictures,” he sighed.

Farrow stubbornly shook his head.

That calmed her immensely. He had at least some veto power.

Mateo settled into some sort of rhythm─or maybe the opposite of a rhythm. He waited until Farrow just started to regain self-control before delivering another stroke, again and again. Farrow strained. His stomach was fully tense despite the support he was getting from the hand underneath him. Mateo hummed pleasantly. “I could if I wanted to, though. Couldn’t I?”

Farrow gasped and humped forward. “God, yes, yes you could.”

“I could do just about anything I wanted.”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

Okay, so a little more complicated. Farrow’s self-preservation did not seem intact. He could easily be brushing real red flags off as dirty talk. Patty didn’t have a solid read on this human either way. She hadn’t noticed any new bruises or injuries on Farrow. He’d been much more confident recently, actually, the opposite of what she’d expect from a victim of coercion.

Her heart panged. Mateo did so much for him that she obviously couldn’t.

Mateo brought his face down to his hands. With his mouth open, he slowly dragged the dry outer part of his lip against Farrow’s groin. Farrow whimpered and pressed towards the mouth in front of him. Mateo pulled his head up, barely avoiding him, and planted a kiss along Farrow’s jaw. Patty stiffened.

“No, no,” Farrow muttered, with no hint of lust or desperation this time. “That’s─my wife. My wife kisses me there.”

Mateo hesitated. “Alright.” His lips hovered over Farrow’s scalp. “How about here?”

“Okay.” 

He pecked him and gently smiled. Patty put a hand to her chest. She couldn’t decide what to make of that. She really didn’t like the human knowing that she existed, but it was good to know that Farrow wasn’t about to toss her to the side. She felt… oddly okay with the situation, more than she thought she would be. If Farrow was safe, and happy, and not planning on abandoning her to live in some twenty-something’s coat pocket. Still, he was keeping a hell of a secret from her. 

Farrow had been better recently, but she wouldn't say he was good. Confrontation would lead to argument, rejection, and she feared he would turn to this human lover and be too stubborn to crawl home if he became abusive. Silent treatmenting himself straight into a cage would be a very Farrow move. Did she really need to publicize this discovery? They were fighting for months and then suddenly she had a husband who was calmer, happier, and with so much more energy to help out around the home. He was offering to do the laundry now, for fuck’s sake. Patty had good reason to even the scoreboard and keep a little secret for herself. 

Mateo stopped the stroking. “I’m letting go for a second,” he warned. “You’re not going to touch yourself.”

Farrow nodded, his head bobbing to the side in his exhaustion. 

His fist relaxed. The other hand slipped down to hold his bottom and released its pinch. Farrow collapsed back and hooked his arms between the fingers behind him, maybe to make it a little easier to keep his promise, maybe to keep himself from collapsing down. He was a ragdoll. How on Earth was he always so high-energy when he got home after this?

Mateo took his free hand to his mouth and slipped his tongue between his middle and ring fingers. When they parted, strands of saliva stretched in between. He lifted Farrow under his shoulders and set him down on his opposite palm on his knees. Farrow grabbed at his fingertips for stability. His angry red cockhead rubbed at the wet flesh and he shuddered, but stayed still.

“So well behaved,” Mateo cooed. He petted lightly down Farrow’s spine, and Farrow collapsed onto the fingers in front of him. “Stay.”

Mateo unzipped his pants and shoved them down to pull his dick out. It sprung up with urgency. How could he stay so well-composed while so rock-solid? Patty was struck by how… visually pleasing it was. Healthy tan and pink, uncut, with a soft-looking quality to his skin. Did Farrow get to feel that? All over? Okay, she saw the appeal.

He jerked himself slowly. Farrow watched intently, shaking with desire. 

“Fuck,” Mateo breathed. His thumb closed in to stroke his thin ass. Farrow’s cock was pressed against his fingers, and his cry sounded pained. “Aw, is it getting desperate?” He was playing it casual, but he couldn’t stop himself from panting.

His reply was so strained she couldn’t hear it, but whatever it was, it seemed to get Mateo going, which drove Farrow a little crazier in turn.

…Would he like it if she talked to him like that?

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so pretty when you shake,” he hissed. “Okay, go.”

Farrow pounded his hand furiously with the kind of animal drive Patty hadn’t seen since they were childless. And suddenly, she was filled with rage. What the fuck did she need to be doing? Could she even compete? Was it the domination, or the size, or his gender? Had Farrow been gay this whole time? But no way, he was obviously still attracted to her, he’d been way more eager recently. Unless he was thinking about Mateo the whole time. If he wanted to change things up, why couldn’t he just fucking tell her? 

“Do you want it looser?” Mateo whispered. “...Okay.”

And why was he so nice when he wasn’t being mean? What was this asshole even getting out of it? 

Farrow cried out and collapsed. Mateo’s hand, already tense with excitement, curled around him tightly with his thumb against his face. Farrow freed his arms to pull the wide pad in and kissed it desperately, like a partner’s face.

Mateo’s cum spurted over his hand. He moaned and relaxed back for a moment, then reached over to grab a tissue from the box on the table, wiping up his hands, dabbing at a spot on his jeans. He giggled and Farrow, sprawled lazily on his palm, was roused to attention. “Look, you got some good distance,” he said, pointing around his pocket. Farrow turned to look, his ass in the air. Mateo stared lustfully and licked his licks. Patty found herself mimicking him. 

At least she had some things in common with this guy.

Her emotions spun again, around to possessiveness, lust, some odd endearment watching them relax and laugh together. Mateo could still hurt him. He knew they were there, he could get an exterminator and kill her whole family if he wanted. She knew it happened. If Farrow accidentally snubbed him, or tried to end the situation. If he stopped showing up. All relationships are good before they get bad. And she didn’t think Farrow would ever notice the warning signs. 

Mateo pressed Farrow’s back into his palm and gently stroked his chest. Farrow panted and glowed, smiling up at the man holding him. He grabbed a finger and pressed his head against it.

“Oh, my God,” Mateo squeaked. “Please don’t drive me crazy before you leave. I gotta act normal today, I got a big meeting.”

Oh, shit, he was gonna go back home soon. He could run into Patty. How on Earth could she answer those questions? 

She ran. Back inside, past his abandoned gear, sprinting in tight corridors and clambering past obstacles. She was halfway home when she finally stopped to rest, and that was only when all the dust sent her into a coughing fit. 

Farrow was back five minutes after her, in his typical fantastic morning mood. He unloaded his bag, handing over an orange slice and a bundle of baby spinach.

“Score!” he sing-songed. 

Mateo was just handing him all this shit, wasn’t he?

She set the goods on the counter and pulled him into a hug and a kiss. No weird smell this morning… oh fuck, that was human cum. On the days he came back smelling odd, it was cum. He was getting cummed on. She hugged him a little tighter. 

Patty got to chopping up the greens while Farrow stood beside her peeling the skin off the slice. “Didn’t exert yourself too much, right, baby?” A little dryness slipped through in her tone.

“No, it all went pretty smoothly.” 

They worked in silence for a bit. He was wiggling a little bit, dancing to some song in his head. Every so often he hummed a segment of a melody. She knew that tune. The human played that song all the time. Was it a love song? She tried to remember…

“Farrow…”

“Yeah?”

She swallowed and looked him in the eyes. “Would you ever want to… I don’t know, change things up a little in bed?”

His face lit up. “Oh, like you want me to be a little more dominant?”

Patty stared at him blankly for a moment. “Yeah. More dominant. Sure.”

His hands awoke before he did. They found a warm roll of fat grasped between their fingers and curled in, massaged it, slowly moving up to another roll, a smooth expanse of skin right beneath her breasts, lolling down, one touching the ground beneath them.

Not ground. Flesh. 

That thought roused Farrow from his sleep. Skin. Belly. The most stable hair-free patch of Mateo they could locate last night, between his pecs and his belly button. The churning and thrumming of his organs beneath had changed from disturbing to comforting within minutes. Before they fell asleep they whispered in the dark, underneath his loose t-shirt, about how easily the incredible systems just an inch away could reduce the both of them to sludge and nutrients within a day. It felt oddly safe. What could touch them right here?

Patty lazily reached behind her and put her hand on his hip. “Morning,” she muttered. 

Farrow kissed her neck. “You’re so gorgeous.” 

He’d been overwhelmed with love for her ever since she expressed support for his… activities. It fucked him up. If she called him an unfaithful piece of shit, she would have been correct. If she booted him out to die alone in some backyard, she would have been justified. He got a scolding, and the scolding was more for treating Mateo like a sex dispenser than for cheating on her. You’re driving that poor boy insane, she chastised. Go cuddle with him, you asshole.

Farrow was more in love with his wife because she let him cheat. Grade-A prick.

So they all talked things out in the mornings, while their kids were still all asleep. Patty was okay with it, as long as they could all be honest with each other and she was sure Farrow was safe. Mateo wanted some proper dates with Farrow, then bashfully insisted that he didn’t want to steal him from Patty or anything. Farrow sat there, silent, watching them hash out custody of him, still unspeakably anxious. It was just too good to be true. He cheated for months, endangering his entire family in the process. Where was the rage?

Farrow and his sister regularly traded off babysitting, so they could each get alone time with their respective wives, and her turn came up. Mateo took the day off work. They were gonna try this for real, all three of them, real open polyamory. Last night, after a nice romantic dinner, Mateo fell asleep during the movie and the little couple crawled under his shirt to turn in themselves.

“Anything you wanna do today?” Farrow whispered.

“Oh, I’ve been thinking. Your boy seems pretty open-minded.”

“He’s not my boy.”

“He seems to think he is.” After a moment of silence, she flipped around towards him and kissed his jaw. “I gotta watch that he doesn’t cage you.”

Farrow pulled her in against him and laughed. “Yeah? Would you rescue me?” 

“Of course, you’d be my damsel in distress.” She trailed her fingers down his side. “Unless you looked good in there. If he kept you naked, maybe.” Her hand came up to grab his neck. “Cute little collar.”

Farrow smiled. “You’ve thought this through.”

“With a little chain connecting you to the bars. Ooh, and he could attach it to his wrist when he lets you out. Or his di-” A heavy kiss on the mouth shut her up. Farrow got on top of her and they kissed and petted, getting heavier and heavier. He moved down to her neck, then her breasts, her navel, reveling in her mounting moans. He tugged down her shorts, and right as his tongue made contact with her nethers, the ground underneath them shook and they froze.

“What’s tha fuckin’…” Mateo groaned and stretched, and Farrow clung to Patty’s legs for stability. “Six thirtee─ shut the fuck up!” The cloth above them tented and Mateo’s disembodied hand patted around his belly. He moved up and made contact with Patty, felt her chest and heard her yelp, then moved and grabbed Farrow around the middle. Farrow was dragged away and under Mateo’s waistband. He took his thumb to Farrow’s head and smashed it against his morning wood. “Fuckin’ old people…” he grumbled. “Fucking! Sleep! In!” He let Farrow fall down onto his pelvis and fell silent again.

Farrow and Patty crawled out and met on the couch cushion, with Mateo’s belly rising and falling behind them. Patty had pulled the shirt she shed while sleeping back on. “He’s got a point,” Farrow admitted.

“You really don’t mind him treating you like that?”

“He’s nicer when he’s awake.” He shrugged. “It’s a nice dick anyways.”

Farrow managed to finish Patty off without making too much noise, and they chatted  quietly, about nothing, really, until Mateo roused again about an hour later. He groaned and rubbed his face. “Did I fall asleep during the movie?” he asked.

“Yup,” Farrow responded.

“Shit. You weren’t trapped up here, were you?”

Patty smiled. “We can take care of ourselves, don’t worry.”

“Get real, if you weren’t stealing my groceries, you’d be dead.” He sniffed. “Breakfast?”

He made some scrambled eggs while the couple sat on his counter. Mateo considered the whole idea of giant-size scrambled eggs kind of repulsive, actually, but apparently they were pretty inaccessible and unwieldy for tiny people, so it was nice to take advantage of the opportunity. He doled out portions onto the same tiny plates they used last night. He desperately wanted to see inside their home in the walls. Just looking at the plates drove him crazy, he could hardly imagine all the tiny chairs and jars and shelves in there…

They ate at his tiny bachelor dinner table. “Okay,” Mateo said. “To be clear. We’re going to have sex today?”

“Yeah!” Farrow said. He thought better, and looked to Patty. “Yeah?”

“Oh, um…” She shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d want to get involved, actually.”

“Oh, well, I thought you wanted to─”

“I mean, I was thinking of watching, maybe. Just─ I don’t like it being secret, I guess. I want to know what’s going on.”

Mateo nodded. “I think that would be okay. And listen, Patty, I know this is all kind of scary, so… well, if you need us to pause or change things up, don’t be afraid to say so.”

A tiny spark of impish inspiration flashed in Patty’s mind. She smiled. “Thanks, Mateo.”

They went to his bed. After giving him a second to tug off his shirt, Patty clambered up onto Mateo’s shoulder, which she found surprisingly comfortable. Farrow looked so tiny and vulnerable down between his legs. She was already getting horny, thinking about watching her husband getting battered from up here. “Just-just do what you normally do,” she gently encouraged.

Mateo pulled his dick out from his loose pajama pants and pushed it down to get his head within Farrow’s reach. Farrow anxiously looked up at her for approval. She nodded, and he dragged his tongue up Mateo’s glans. 

“Sorry,” Patty said. “Does he normally look up at your shoulder every two seconds?”

Mateo chuckled. “Aw, I think it’s shy.” He stiffened. “I, um, I call him ‘it’ sometimes. Just, like, a kink thing, not like I think he─”

“Don’t worry, I got it.” She leaned on his neck. “Think you might need to help it out?”

“I think I just might.” He plucked Farrow up, pinched around his chest, and tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Farrow tried to shove him away. “This is not what we normally do!” he protested.

Patty shrugged. “Maybe you should. I’m definitely enjoying myself.” Mateo pulled his shirt off and went for his pants, but Patty nudged him and he paused. “There’s no rush,” she murmured.

Mateo smirked. His fingers trailed down Farrow’s chest, stroking circles around his bony hips. He gently wiggled his middle and ring over his perky nipples. Farrow squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep his mouth closed. A massive thumb stroked his erection over his pants, and he failed, his voice cracking with his moan. He looked up to Patty again. She squeezed her thighs together. 

His fingers traveled further, hooking his fingertips into his pants and pulling them down, taking his briefs with them, and taking a moment to squeeze Farrow’s cock between his fingertips. After pulling off one sock, he stroked his thumb up Farrow’s sole and delighted at his squirms. “No rush…” he repeated. “I can play with you for as long as I want.” He pushed his foot up, forcing Farrow to bend his knee, and then pulled his leg straight. He moved his head side to side, stretched his arms up, forced him to bend out and in at his middle. Play with, like a doll. 

All the while, Farrow carefully watched his wife for her reaction. He hadn’t expected Mateo to go so hard on the dehumanization shit so quickly. He was a human’s plaything, an insult to their species. She should be disgusted with him, not… rubbing herself through her pants. 

“Mateo,” she said. “I don’t know if he’s gonna relax if he can still see me.”

“Probably not,” he conceded. Mateo stripped him of his other sock, then planted him face first onto his cock, exposing his ass to the both of them. They took a shared moment to admire.

“You’re fucked, Patty!” Farrow protested. Mateo pressed his face in and he shouted something muffled. 

“Yeah, babe, love you too. Give yourself some love, Mateo, huh?”

Mateo reached into a drawer of his bedside table and grabbed a bottle of lube. He pumped a few cold squirts between Farrow and his shaft and rubbed them against each other. Farrow struggled for a grasp, flailing his arms and legs around, slipping against him. He fumbled to get a handhold on a vein like he was rock climbing. It was not working out. The forced frotting was providing particular distraction, fogging up his mind, making him want to relax into the mistreatment. Mateo kicked his pants off and spread his legs. The intensity of the stroking increased, and Farrow’s face was battered, his limbs exhausted, his dick started to ache. “Stop!” he called out. Mateo paused, and Farrow gasped for air, resting the side of his head on Mateo’s shaft. “Just-just gimme a second.”

Patty whispered something to Mateo, who snickered in response. “Farrow,” she called down from her throne. “Has Mateo ever hurt you?”

“N-not on purpose,” he panted.

Mateo smiled. He pressed a finger against Farrow’s cheeks, massaging them around, and chuckled when Farrow groaned at the dawning realization. Mateo tapped his fingernail against him, feeling around, then flicked him square on. Farrow yelped and writhed against his cock, but the other hand held him firmly down. “Oh, that’s good,” Mateo moaned.

“Why are you listening to her?” Farrow cried out.

“Because he’s a good boy, Farrow,” Patty snarked back.

Mateo giggled and squished him against his shaft even tighter. “I am a good boy. I do so much for you and you haven’t called me a good boy once.” He flicked his ass.

“Ah! You’re a good boy, you’re a good boy! Stop it!” Farrow grabbed tight around his shaft. All of his squirms and protests were just getting Mateo off, he knew this, but he couldn’t seem to keep still. Another flick, and Farrow grinded his pelvis against the massive cock. 

“Only taking orders from Patty.” He bit his lip. “But, uh… keep calling me that.”

Flick. Farrow jolted. 

“What do you say?” Patty teased.

“G-good boy,” he muttered. 

Flick.

“Ah! Good boy!”

He moved down to his thighs. 

“Good boy! Good boy! Ah, fuck! Good boy!” The hot flesh against his chest seemed to pulse with every affirmation. Mateo was loving this.

“Drop it,” Patty barked. The supportive hand disappeared and Farrow floundered to find a grip on the shaft, pulling his legs up and attempting to wrap them around.  He slipped and swung to the opposite side, then lost his grip totally, dropping down and tumbling off of Mateo’s smooth sack. He grabbed the thick skin to push himself back up. Mateo hummed with delight. “Get me down there,” Patty said. Mateo plucked her up around the middle and dropped her between his legs.

Patty ripped her clothes off and tackled Farrow against the cushiony balls, grabbing him, kissing him desperately. The lube squelched between them. “Thought you didn’t wanna get involved,” he teased, breathless.

“You look way too fucking sexy for that.”

The involuntary massage got Mateo moaning and tugging at himself, clearly trying to stay slow, really savor it. His partners noticed. As they made out, they moved intentionally, pressing limbs into the skin below, grinding down against him. Patty pulled a leg up and shoved her foot into him. He yelped and thrusted forward, just enough to knock them off his sack and send them tumbling down, overwhelmed by darkness, warmth, and his thick, dense scent. They slammed into his taint and heard a sharp hiss far above. 

“Shit, sorry,” Mateo panted. He started to reach down to help them out. Farrow grinned and slammed his shoulder back against his skin. Mateo froze up and moaned. 

Patty got the idea. She crawled down between the two and spread her legs wide open. Farrow grabbed her around the ass and slipped in. With his first pound into her, the world around them shuddered and squirmed. 

“Fuck yes,” Patty moaned.

They fucked eagerly, thrusting quick and giving Mateo enough time to just barely recover from each hit. Patty drew frantic circles around her clit. She shouted and swore, shoving her head against his flesh. “Oh, keep going, keep going!” she screamed. 

Farrow’s cock was near-frictionless. Patty reached around his neck, clasping her hands together and pulling him in. He dragged his tongue up her neck, nipped at her ear, and without hesitation licked and sucked at the wall behind her. The taste made him drool, made him horny and desperate. Mateo whined. His legs seemed to grow as he flexed his muscles, burying them further into the depths of his groin. 

“Good boy, Mateo!” Patty called up.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” he gasped. “Please can I come.”

Patty nodded at Farrow. For a moment, he froze. Dominating a human, even in such a little way, it still felt impossible to him. But he could dominate his wife, and she could dominate Mateo… so why the hell not? He bit down a grin. “Just a second, Mateo,” he shouted up.

“Okay,” he whined. “Okay, okay.”

Patty licked her lips approvingly. “Taking care of you first,” he whispered to her. He pounded rapidly and the legs around them seemed to vibrate. Farrow pulled out and came over Patty’s belly. He took a second to regain his breath. “Good boy, Mateo, go ahead!”

His legs sandwiched them tightly together, muffling his powerful moans. Mateo felt them in there, felt the little details of their soft bodies pressed into his flesh, all of their struggles absolutely hopeless against the strength of his orgasm. Mateo squeezed them tighter. An incredible sense of possession washed over him. His little couple. 

Reluctantly, and well after his peak had passed, he loosened his thighs and let them free. Briefly, he wondered if he should help them out, but the sensation of tiny hands struggling to push his balls out of their way convinced him against it. 

“You trying to kill us?” Patty yelled. 

He giggled. Mateo brought his hand down to help them climb onto his thigh, one after the other. Exhausted, flushed, and still couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Fuck, he wanted the commands and the praise, and he wanted to watch them fuck, and he wanted them wrapped around his dick, their hands and feet tied to each other, helpless to do anything but wriggle and beg. He couldn’t seem to articulate any of this, so instead he grabbed them both, pressed together in one hand, and licked all four tiny feet at once. They laughed and kicked, and he bit down on the first ankle he could get. He only realized it was Patty’s when he sucked down and she gasped.

Mateo loosened his hand and kissed and licked up both their bodies. The best little squeaks and whimpers imaginable… two little toys, covered in knobs and buttons for him to fiddle with and they each made their own perfect noise. He nipped Patty’s tit and she yowled. “Oh, you’re all mine,” he growled, before he clamped down on Farrow’s neck and sucked. His to mark.

Farrow arched to the sensation, then gasped. His eyes widened. “Wait! Stop, stop!” Mateo released him. Farrow felt around his skin and winced. Yeah, that was leaving a massive hickey. “Oh, shit. What the hell am I gonna tell my sister?”

Mateo grimaced. “I, uh, forgot about her.” He giggled. “I can just borrow someone’s makeup. Or you could… tell her.”

The couple looked at each other. 

“We should eventually,” Patty said. We’re definitely doing this again.”

“Well, sure, but…” Farrow covered his lips and whispered into her ear. Boyfriend . They both beamed and giggled like children. 

She moved her head side to side, considering. “Ask me again in a week. Alright?”

Mateo, with no idea what they were talking about, glanced to the open window. “It’s not even noon, just, if you want the makeup, gimme enough time to text around about it.” Farrow gave him a thumbs up and a dopey grin. Fuck, they were cute… He pressed his face into his hand, rubbing against them, taking in the laughter and the tiny kisses peppering his face.

“Good boy, good boy, Mateo,” they cooed.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he could have everything he wanted. 

Carefully… loose. And slow. And pausing frequently. But make it convincing, but don’t finish yet, but fuck he had gotten himself way too excited about this. Mateo glanced at his dresser again. And stop doing that! A little patience… they were always teasing him about his youthful impatience. 

See, that was the real issue with age gaps in relationships. All the goddamn teasing.

He heard a shuffle, and just imagining Farrow’s point of view was getting him going again. Tucked away between his folded up t-shirts, watching from the darkness, Mateo jacking off like some distant impossibly powerful force to him. Fuck, he was so little! 

He held off. He managed for a bit longer, a few more minutes, before the image popped up in his mind: Farrow, fighting, kicking, screaming. Mateo couldn’t take it anymore. He had to move this along or he was gonna cum way too early and where was the fun in that.

His gaze slid back to the dresser drawer and his shoulders stiffened. The tiny eyes watched back. They widened and darted back into darkness, but not before Mateo was up and tearing the drawer out. Thunk . “Fuck!” Poor Farrow was lying on the bottom, pushing himself up with one hand and cradling his head with the other. Whoops. He seemed fine, though. Mateo had seen him weather worse falls, that was for sure. Borrowers were tough little critters.

“What the hell?” Mateo snapped. “What the fuck were you doing in there?”

Farrow looked up at him, gasped, and tried to scramble off. Mateo reached down and pinched his ankle, and his dick twitched watching Farrow try to tug away like a trapped animal. His calves were thinner than Mateo’s fingers… absolutely powerless. He swept up both legs in his fist and held him up to his face upside-down before sitting right back down on his bed. 

His expression twisted into disgust. “Oh, God,” he muttered. He gave the erection poking out from Farrow’s waistband a light flick and Farrow yelped. “I’ve got a pervert infestation.”

“It-it’s not what it looks like!” he squeaked. The blood rushing to his face was cute. 

“Sorry, do you normally run around with your hard dick out?” He rolled it between his fingers contemplatively. “Not even sure I could call it a dick. I’ve seen bigger toothpicks.” He positioned his thumbnail along his shaft and ever so slightly dug in. Farrow hyperventilated. He tried to push his fingers away, but his tiny hands just faltered and slipped off. “Admit it.”

Farrow tried to talk, but all that came out was pained squeaking.

“You were jacking off watching me, because you’re a sick fuck who gets off on humans that are young enough to be your kids. Admit it.” He let up the pressure.

“Yes! I-I am, I am!”

Mateo chuckled. With his free hand he gripped Farrow’s torso in a fist, carefully sandwiching his dick between two knuckles. He flipped him right side up and Farrow relaxed. He un-relaxed when Mateo started squeezing his fingers together. 

“Not enough justice doled out to people like you. And I’ve actually got a chance to change that.” He ground his knuckles back and forth and Farrow let out low, raspy moans. “I could castrate you. I think that would be fair.”

“Please no,” he hissed. 

“But it would be so easy.” He squeezed his cock, harder and harder, and fell Farrow stiffen in his grasp. He panted and writhed, and finally cried out: “PLEASE, HELP ME!”

The pressure stopped. Mateo grinned. “Who’s helping you?”

Dread crossed his face. “No one! I─ it’s just me, I was just─”

“You got a little family? Where are they?”

He chewed his lip. “I don’t.”

Mateo pinched his head. “I could crush you,” he stated. “Where are they?”

“Patty, I’m so sorry,” Farrow whispered. “She’s under the dresser.”

He dove down to the floor and reached blindly around. His fingers grazed skin and Patty yelped and dove away. “You little rat!” he snapped. He batted around more furiously and finally felt her little body collapse under his palm. Mateo grabbed her, felt… her chest shaking. Fuck, did he scare her too badly? He pulled her into the light and rolled his eyes. She was giggling. “Well don’t laugh!” 

She laughed harder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You were just─just really putting his dick through the wringer, phew!”

Farrow grimaced. “You kind of suck at this.”

“Squeeze him again, I liked that.”

Mateo ignored her. Instead, he tugged her dress off with his teeth and held her in a similar position as Farrow, only with her chest between his fingers instead. She squirmed in confusion, just until he tightened his grip and she screamed. Her tits jutted out between his digits, taut and round, darkening with blood. Mateo flicked his tongue against her nipples and watched them jiggle back to position. She moaned and he chuckled. “You feel like shutting up now?” Patty nodded. He sucked at her, reveling in her sensitivity, adjusting his pinkie to wiggle against her vulva. 

“You’ve got a pervert husband, you know that? He thinks jacking off to humans is a better use of time than taking care of his wife.” He grinned. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe we really are that much better than dumb little borrowers.” Mateo glanced over to Farrow. He was watching them slack-jawed and his cock was dribbling down Mateo’s knuckles. Mateo smiled at him and dragged his tongue up Patty’s face. “Can you and your toothpick dick do this?”

He numbly shook his head.

“Is that why you were watching me? You wanted to see what it looks like when a real man gets off?” Farrow balked at that. “Here, I’m a nice guy. I’ll give you a few pointers.” Before he could react, Mateo shifted his hand up to free Farrow’s cock and brought his legs over Patty’s shoulders. She looked cross-eyed down at his dickhead. Mateo forced it down her throat and she gagged. “You’ve just got to be assertive. Take what you want.” He pounded Farrow’s pelvis into her face.

Farrow gripped her hair and groaned. “Oh, Patty, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, baby.” Snot bubbled up on her lip. It didn’t take long before Farrow relaxed with a moan and Patty, with great, effort, swallowed. 

Mateo adjusted them to smash their faces together in an awkward forced kiss. Her snot and his cum mingled and spread over their lips, and with both of their arms restrained they were forced to put up with it. There was a moment, he noticed it, where they met each other’s eyes and something sparked, and suddenly they were making out for real. Filthy, sore, desperate. He loosened his grips and they pulled their arms out to wrap them around each other. Like they were the only people on the planet.

Sometimes he felt like a master, and sometimes he felt like a toy.

Well, no use stewing. Mateo tugged Farrow’s clothes off with his mouth, barely interrupting their little sesh. He worked up some saliva and shot it right between their chests. They invited it, taking advantage of the lubrication to rub against each other. Mateo held them sideways in one hand and pressed his cockhead between their legs. Patty straddled it and grinded against him. He smiled. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”

He gave them exactly enough time to figure it out.

Mateo pounded into his two-part fleshlight. Their skin slipped against him, body parts making way for his shaft, but still desperately clinging onto each other on the opposite ends of his cock. One of them clawed into his skin─ god, what delicate pain, it was perfect. Right as he got close, he stopped to appreciate the view. The couple, panting, hands clasped, both of their heads pressed against his, soaked head to toe in how many fluids now. They met his eyes. Slowly, Farrow smiled and planted a tender kiss on his glans. 

He blew his load into the carpet.

Farrow laughed. “You cheeky fucker,” he grumbled, and stood up to dump them in the conveniently placed little fish tank on his dresser. “ That ,” he said, “is what you bugs are good for. Got it?”

They had given up the act much quicker than him, apparently. Farrow was grinning and resting his head on Patty’s shoulder, and she accidentally bumped him off when she robotically stiffened to salute. They cackled and collapsed into each other. Mateo rolled his eyes and marched off. He came back with two hand towels. One cleaned up the carpet, the other got dumped in the cage.

Mateo laid on his bed and tried to relax while they cleaned each other up. Man, he’d really done a number on her chest. They were chatting about something, and they knew they were too small for him to hear at this distance. They did that a lot, actually. Sometimes even when he was holding them. 

“Mateo!” Patty called out.

He perked up. “Hm?”

“You seemed angry.”

He snorted. “Uh, yeah, I hope so. Kind of the point of the whole thing.”

Farrow chimed in “No, like actually. What’s up?” He didn’t get a response. “Mateo. Hey, get us out of here.”

As much as he’d like to ignore them some more, he had promised that he’d never keep them trapped. So Mateo reached in and helped them into his cupped hands. Patty beckoned him in, close enough for them to kiss the bridge of his nose. One side each. “You’ve got to talk to us,” Patty chastised.

“Right, like you two are the world champions of communication.”

They snickered.

“I promise it’s not a big deal.” He shrugged. “Just─ I am the odd one out, so obviously I’m gonna feel like it sometimes.”

Their faces fell. “Like when?” Patty asked.

“Like when you were making out. I don’t know. You were just so engrossed in each other.”

Farrow’s eyebrows furrowed. “I felt like you were included!”

Patty jabbed his side and he hissed. “What he meant is we didn’t know you felt that way and we’re very sorry.”

“No! It─I mean, that too but that isn’t what I mean.” He struggled for a moment, looking down at Mateo’s palm. “Well, I am sorry but we really don’t feel that way. But I think I get it. When you hold us, for you, you’re just holding us. But from our perspective─I hadn’t even considered that you felt excluded, because you’re completely overwhelming. No question, I felt as intimate with you as I did with Patty.”

He softened. “Me holding you really feels the same as making out with each other?”

“It does,” Patty agreed. “But if you don’t feel like you’re a part of this, that’s still a problem.”

Farrow grinned. “You’d like a little eye contact, wouldn’t you?”

“...Maybe a little.”

“You want me to go,” he tackled Patty and licked up her neck while staring Mateo straight on. “ Oh, fuck, Mateo .”

“No!”

They giggled. “Do you feel included when we sleep together?” Patty asked.

When they cuddled up on him, on his chest or his belly, or very occasionally, when the mood struck, his groin. When he woke up to find that during the night, one of his fingers had joined in on the spooning. That was nice. He nodded. 

“Then I think I’d like that.”