“Take off your suit, Giovanni,” Master says.
There’s not much to lose in the way of clothing. I pull down my Speedo and hang it on the back of the chair to dry, noticing Silvio’s attention to my cock and balls.
“You like him like this?” Silvio asks, waving a hand at my bare skin.
“Giovanni needs a lot of reminders.” Master tugs at my waxed genitals as if testing their buoyancy. “That he’s a boy, not a man. Men come whenever they want. Boys must earn their orgasms through obedience and service.”
Silvio raises his eyebrows at that, but he also looks intrigued. It seems whatever details Master has shared, Silvio is now getting a close-up look. Master invites me to sit with him, perched on the chair between his spread thighs. He tells Silvio about our Master/slave dynamic in his slow and measured way. Similar to when he educated Anthony, he talks about the things I like—pain, discipline, rules, and punishment—as well as the things I don’t—restraints, manipulation, separation…
And while Master speaks, his hands roam freely over my body, tugging on my piercings to the point of pain, squeezing my balls until the sensitive folds pinch between his knuckles, milking my cock so that it drips obscenely onto his fingers, then making me clean my mess from his hand with my tongue. Silvio’s eyes darken with desire and his cock thickens in his tight shorts. Master has used me in this way to arouse other men and women into fucking themselves or each other. They know the rule for Master’sschiavo—look but don’t touch.
“And he likes this?” Silvio asks and places two fingers to his mouth.
“Giovanni?” Master says.
“Master, andonlyMaster, knows what’s best for this slave,” I say with defiance.
Silvio nods. “You have trained him.”
“With love,” Master murmurs, kissing the sensitive place where my neck meets my shoulder, “and averyfirm hand.”
Master strokes me until I whimper and moan, nearly to the point of begging but not quite. When I’m uncomfortably engorged and feverish all over, Master says, “Let’s go to the steam room,schiavo. Silvio, will you join us?”
“Let me jump in the pool first. I need to cool off a bit.”
Silvio stands and tosses his glasses onto the table, then strips off his tight white shirt to reveal the full expanse of his torso. His chest is meaty and thick with a full pelt of silky, black hair that narrows to a dark line at his navel. His skin is more tanned than Master’s, bronzed by the sun, and when he strips off his pants—no underwear—his semi-hard, uncut cock sways like a pendulum between his sturdy thighs. Silvio catches me looking and winks before jogging toward the water and diving in.
Master hands me a sheaf of paper, Silvio’s latest health screening dated just days before. He told me already that he’s shared ours with Silvio with the reminder that he has no expectations whatsoever. Now, Master sees where my attention is focused—on Silvio swimming naked in the pool—and asks, “Do you want to see his cock when it’s wet too?”
My gaze drops and I feel ashamed for even entertaining the thought. Master’s strong hand circles the back of my neck and squeezes. “It’s okay,tesoro. He’s family.”
I do see Silvio’s cock when he emerges from the pool, and it is every bit as impressive wet as it is dry, dripping with water and tempting me with its lush ripeness. His balls, too, are hefty and round, and he walks with the kind of accidental swagger that well-hung men must adopt to accommodate their girth.
“Andiamo,” Master says, grabbing towels for him and me both, and tossing a third to Silvio. Silvio uses it to scrub his thick pelt of chest hair then swab at his genitals, drawing more attention to their impressive size and sway.
Silvio chuckles and says to Master in English, “He likes.”
Master smirks, and I feel stupid that my craving for dick is so transparent. I pointedly avoid looking at Silvio as we enter the cave. Small, recessed bulbs are embedded in the rock to light the interior in a warm, seductive hue. The pools in the cave are just as luxurious as Master promised and we soak for a little while in one of the hot mineral springs, then sit on the slatted wooden benches that have been laid atop the stone. It’s wonderfully constructed, and I know this room will be one of my new favorite places to linger.
The men converse while I migrate from lying on the bench to sitting in between Master’s legs, at his request. Master caresses my thighs, chest, and groin while Silvio watches, idly stroking his cock, which is so dense that it has trouble rising under its own heft and instead lists against his thigh like a branch weighed down by too much fruit.
“What do you think of my brother’s cock,schiavo?” Master asks, his voice barely above a whisper in the quiet cave. The use of my slave name is a subtle cue that my service is desired. Master knows my weaknesses—thick cocks, hairy Italian men, and steam rooms—and he’s surely exploiting them.
“It’s fine,” I say noncommittally.
“Are you curious to know what it tastes like?” he asks, drawing one fingertip across my lips to tease my tongue. Like it or not, that is really all I’ve been thinking about since Silvio took it out of his pants.
“Curiosity is not this slave’s virtue,” I remind him.
“Hmmm… very true, but subservience is.”
The word itself sends an erotic thrill through me. The definition of subservience is a willingness to do what others want or demand. It is the act of considering one’s own wishes as less important than those of another. Its root word is Latin,subservire, to be made useful or serviceable. Master told me this etymology during my education on the virtues of a slave. During that particular lesson, he was training me on how to deep-throat his cock without gagging, how to relax my throat muscles and accept that my breath was no longer my own. It took several lessons and a lot of popscicles before my gag reflex became practically non-existent. Master says a little bit of patience in the beginning of a slave’s training provides a much better payoff in the end.
Master is a patient man.
“Does Master wish for his slave to service his brother’s cock?” I don’t know what I want; I want Master to decide for me.
“Master wishes for his slave to have the freedom to explore safely while his Master is present. If you want to suck his cock, Giovanni, I would like to watch. I think you might find swallowing another’s man’s flesh to be very gratifying.” He rubs my shoulder, waiting patiently for me to fathom the possibility. “Color?’
