“Settle,” Master says to me sternly, and then to Silvio, “Pull his hair.” Silvio grabs a fistful of my hair at the nape of my neck and yanks. I arch upward and Master pushes the toy the rest of the way in. The pressure against my prostate is almost unbearable, as is the stretch of my rectum, so full that my guts cramp around the foreign intrusion and try to expel it. My skin is slick with sweat against the leather, and just when I’ve caught my breath, Master says, “Use his mouth now. If you can manage to fuck it without coming, you can have his ass too. If he snaps his fingers, stop immediately. That’s his safesign.” A pause and then, “Say the words, Silvio, so Giovanni can hear you.”
“I understand,” Silvio says.
I drop my head and open my mouth obediently. Silvio’s hand is still in my hair when his thick cockhead pushes past my lips and lodges itself deep in my throat. I’m thankful for Master’s instruction that has prepared me for gagging and choking on dick. Master continues with the flogger while Silvio places a hand on my sternum and uses the momentum of the swing to fuck my mouth.
“Feels so good,” Silvio murmurs, finding a rhythm to his thrusting that I adopt as well. “Sei fantastico, cazzo.” Fuck, you’re amazing.
There’s so much sensation assaulting me from all sides that I stop trying to resist. My muscles relax as my body finally accepts the violation on all fronts, and I imagine myself floating in the ocean, being rocked back and forth by the current, the water gushing into every orifice and filling me to the point of saturation, until the water and I are no longer separate but a single living organism.
Distantly, I feel the tug of my rectum as Master removes the toy and fills me with his warm, rigid cock. The men fuck me between them, their sweat dripping onto my skin, their grunts a kind of percussion to the other sounds of slapping and saliva and suction. I drift in and out. Master tugs on the clamps to reign me back, and I return long enough to feel his warm release flood me and the absence of Silvio in my throat. Master repositions my head in the strap while Silvio grips my thighs in his meaty hands and takes his turn mounting me. I realize now why Master stretched me so extensively, because even with the lube and Master’s semen coating my rim, even with my hole already fucked open and gaping, Silvio is thick, and his added girthburnswhen he enters me, causing me to shudder and seize in the swing.
“Color?” Master says in the voice that tells me he means business.
“Green, Master.”
I try to welcome the invasion of Silvio’s unrelenting conquest, pushing out to invite him in. My pain receptors are blinking chaotically; my nerves don’t know which sensations to transmit. When Silvio’s fully seated at last, there is a collective pause and reorientation. During that time, I realize that I’ve come once already, and my cock is now thickening up again.
“Very good, princess,” Silvio murmurs and strokes my thigh, then my dick, his callused hand rough against my skin. “You are so warm and tight, very pretty on my cock. Let me show you what a young man can do.”
Master snorts at the jab and then Silvio moves his hips so that he surges inside of me. I groan like an animal and beg for more. Master tugs on the wire of my clamps, enticing me to drift again while Silvio fucks me with the stamina and enthusiasm of a young stud who’s been allowed to look but not touch for days and now demands to have his lust sated. My spirit soars, hearing only distantly the primal noises I make. It’s as if I’m giving birth, or how I would imagine it to feel, only it’s a man’s massive cock pounding into me over and over again. My channel clamps and spasms around him, my legs still spread for his convenience. Silvio makes the most of gravity and the pendulous motion of the swing as he fucks me to a climactic finish.
When Master finally removes my clamps, I practically levitate out of the leather harness and orgasm again. Silvio catches me in both arms and holds me to him while his dick attempts to reach in and tear out a piece of my soul with the force of his orgasm.
“Yes, baby, yes,” he whispers, his lips right against the leather mask so that the sound reverberates all around my skull. “You are so good for me, Giovanni. Made my cock feel so much at home. I love the feeling you give me, so pure and so wonderful.”
I come back in pieces, first to the sensation of being covered in cum with more of it dripping out of my throbbing, swollen asshole. Next, is the sound of Silvio slithering out of me with a wet slurp. Then it’s his hand on my thigh, massaging. Master gives me a few moments to recover then warns me that he’s going to take off the mask. Still a little disoriented by my surroundings and the dimly lit room, my first glimpse is of Silvio gazing down on me with a smug smile and my name a sated purr on his lips.
“What do you say to Silvio, Giovanni?” Master urges, petting my hair to show me he is pleased with my submission. The fourth virtue of this slave and the proper conclusion to our scenes is always an expression of gratitude.
“Grazie, Signore.”
Silvio kisses his thumb and places it against my swollen, bruised lips. “Prego, principessa.”
Master cleansme off and sends me to the bedroom with Silvio to recover. Silvio supports my weight with his beefy arms because the combination of being suspended in the swing and getting enthusiastically railed by two well-endowed men has made it difficult to walk.
Between the cool sheets of Master’s bed, I doze a little while Silvio strokes my hip and murmurs his appreciation like dulcet lullabies. Master is excellent at aftercare, but he’s seldom so openly affectionate. In this way, it feels like Silvio needs the closeness as much as me.
Master brings us both cool drinks and rubs lotion on my ass and genitals, including a medicated cream for my anus to help with the soreness and swelling and to act as a disinfectant in case there was any tearing. He checks my nipples and my piercings to make sure there are no lacerations, and only when my glass of water is drained does he tell me I can rest. Silvio pulls me again into his arms where he’s propped himself against the headboard, and I doze against his broad chest. While I drift in and out of slumber, I hear them discussing my trauma in hushed tones. Silvio must have had questions about the scarring around my anus. It’s unfortunate, in some ways, that I’ll always have these reminders, but the physical evidence is far more manageable than the rest.
Silvio makes sympathetic noises and squeezes me tighter to him with each horror Master reveals, nothing too detailed but enough to paint a picture.
“And this is why he likes the pain?” Silvio asks.
“They may or may not be related,” Master says. Even though our lifestyle is therapeutic for me, he’s unwilling to consider it a treatment, which is part of why he insisted I start talking to Rebekah. “The important things for Giovanni to have are structure, stability, and rules. This is what I need you to provide for him in my absence, Silvio.”
“Yes, of course,” Silvio says as if it will be easy, as if the demons and I won’t test him.
Silvio leaves after dinner, which is light and casual and served in bed on trays. Master gives me a stool softener to help with my bowel movement tomorrow morning. I sense he’s eager to have some alone time with me. He leaves the day after tomorrow and each hour that slips away makes the next one even more precious.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. Other than taking a piss, I haven’t left his bed, nor do I intend to.
“I feel good,” and before he can ask, “I enjoyed our scene with Silvio.”
“You’re not in too much pain?”
“I’ll heal.”
Master always asks me this after a scene. He worries that he sometimes goes too far. I don’t have the experience to know what’s too far or not far enough, but I do know that there’s a good kind of pain and a needs-medical-attention kind of pain. Master is always careful that it’s the former, not the latter. He strokes my hair, and we drift into the kind of silence that’s the result of knowing each other so intimately and for so long.
