“How many is a few?” He stares at me and doesn’t answer. He rarely repeats himself. “But you’re coming back?”
“I would never leave you, willingly.”
“And you expect me to fuck him while you’re gone?”
A flicker of anger crosses his face, which confuses me. I need concrete rules and clear expectations. This is how I operate within the boundaries he has set. “I want your needs met, and I want you to experience intimacy with another man. I believe Silvio can satisfy both.”
“But he doesn’t know anything about the lifestyle. Or me.” He doesn’t know about my demons and how loud they can get, how I need not only a firm hand but an ironclad mentality to keep me on the straight-and-narrow path.
“He’s interested to know more and to learn. We’re a lot alike, Giovanni.”
“But he’snotyou. When I sucked him off, I felt like I was cheating on you. Like I’dbetrayedyou. And the way you so easily passed me off, it felt like a dismissal of what we have together.” Now, we’re getting to the heart of things, my glaring insecurities. I have Rebekah to thank for that.
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It wasn’t my intention. It was arousing, yes, but it was also hard for me to watch.”
“Why?” It doesn’t make sense that he would share me only to hurt himself.
“It was like getting a glimpse of your future.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Giovanni, there’s a whole generation between us. You keep me young, yes, but I’m not going to live forever. When I’m gone, you will take another lover. That is the way of things.”
I cannot contemplate a future without my Master. “Don’t tell me what I will or will not do,” I snap, slipping into the immature brat that only serves to prove his point.
“I won’t push you anymore,” Master says, conciliatory, which bothers me even more. I don’t want a gentle Master. I want him to be firm and uncompromising, to rule me with an iron fist. “While I’m here, I’ll sit back and let the two of you become acquainted on your own terms. You’ll be friends or lovers, whatever you choose. All that I ask is that you give him a chance.”
Nothing is settled between us, but at least everything is on the table. Master hasn’t given me a set agenda or rules to follow; he’s leaving it up to me to decide. The thought is at once comforting and terrifying. Still, there is one more thing he must know.
“I think you’re making a mistake.” I’m unable to articulate my fears beyond that; I only know that allowing a third person to share in our intimacy will change our dynamic because how could it not? “But I will trust you to know what’s best for this slave, as I always have. And I’ll try not to take out my feelings of hurt and betrayal on Silvio.”
“That’s more than I can ask for,” Master says with the humility of a saint. Master is not so proud to believe he doesn’t also need forgiveness. “That’s all that I want.”
“But you’re coming back to me?” I ask, trying not to sound as desperate as I feel.
“I promise you,schiavo, I willalwayscome back to you.”
Master leavesme uncaged after that. He says I’ve been punished enough and that he must take some of the responsibility for my misbehavior as well. I think he’s letting me off too easily, but I’ll admit that it’s freeing to be nude at the beach without the encumbrance of my cock and balls being confined in metal.
Silvio is there too (and Anthony of course). It’s a comical scene, the Fortuna brothers under a shade tent and Anthony just a little to the side, strapped with weapons, gaze sweeping our surroundings while installed under a tent of his own. The men drink and chat, and I lounge at the water’s edge and use the gritty sand to exfoliate my skin. Master marvels sometimes at my relationship with water. I’m much calmer near bodies of water—pools, oceans, springs, baths, even steam rooms and showers. I crave the feel of it on my skin, the way water smooths away my rough edges and allows me to submerge myself completely. The power and roar of the waves reminds me of my own meekness and futility. My version of the afterlife is more like Atlantis than Mount Olympus, and I’d take the cerulean waters of the Mediterranean over the pearly gates any day.
I could swim out to the buoy that marks deeper water and back with Master’s permission, but I don’t want to be any farther away from him right now. After a time of solitude, Silvio joins me at the shore and encourages me to follow him into the surf with a playful, “Andiamo, bello.” When I hesitate, he assures me that my Master says it’s okay and I see him waving me along too.
Silvio splashes and chases me in the water, then challenges me to race him to the buoy, which he loses. He dares me to beat him back to the shore and loses again, then bellyaches about a cramp he’s probably faking. The melodrama continues as he rolls around in the wet sand and pretends that he’s dying. “Mouth-to-mouth?” he inquires, which I refuse. I can’t help but laugh at his ridiculous antics, and though I feel a twinge of guilt at sharing in a joyful moment with anyone other than my Master, I see him watching us with a smile on his face.
And I reason, if Silvio is Master’s beloved brother, I might consider him that too—an older brother to me. Not my Master, but someone who will watch out for me, protect me, and correct me if necessary. This, I can wrap my head around. It’s even something I can accept.
When we finally come back on land, Master motions me over and dries me with a towel then instructs me to lay with him on the lawn chair. I nestle in the space between his thighs with my cheek against his hairy chest and suck his fingers. They’re salty from the briny air and taste like the rum he’d been drinking. My eyes flicker over to Silvio from time to time, watching and perhaps even admiring him too.
“Is there something you’d like to say to Silvio, Giovanni?” Master asks.
“Mi dispiace.” I’m sorry.
From Silvio, I get an easy smile and a teasing lilt when he says,“Va tutto bene principessa.” Everything is all right, princess.
Over the next few days,Master invites Silvio into more of our daily rituals. I prepare breakfast for him along with Master and myself. Silvio lounges against the bedroom door frame or in a chair nearby and converses with his older brother while I worship Master’s cock, sometimes while he’s still in bed, sometimes during breakfast on the shadedloggiathat surrounds the courtyard. I like servicing Master before eating myself because it makes me feel as though I’ve earned the right to nourishment. Silvio observes while Master milks my prostate, caged or not depending on what Master has planned. Master explains to Silvio that it puts me in the right headspace for service and centers me for the day ahead. It’s true that if any part of my routine is altered or if something gets left out, I feel off for the rest of the day. I’d imagine it’s like starting your workday and needing that first cup of coffee to get you going. I wake up looking forward to my rituals and am comforted to know I can count on Master to keep me in my routine.
We swim in the pool, relax in the steam room, visit the beach, cook meals together, and sometimes go to the town to eat or shop. Throughout our time together, Master makes use of my body at his discretion, and I service him with obedience and enthusiasm. Silvio touches me with brotherly affection, which I’ve already consented to, but makes no sexual demands. Master doesn’t offer my services to him either. I practice my virtues of patience, humility, subservience, and gratitude, and promise myself that I will not slip up again.
