“They like to be whipped,” I tell him.
“That’s right. Until they are bleeding or crying or both. See, Giovanni has a high threshold for pain and when he goes into subspace, he’s very hard to reach. I also like inflicting pain, which makes for a difficult situation when we’re both excited. The intent is to hurt but not harm, a fine line that a good sadist must straddle.”
Master has whipped me until I’ve bled before, and though I think he felt bad about it later, it was the closest I’ve ever felt to God.
But I get the sense that he doesn’t want to scare Sir, so Master transitions to the leather strop, a simple tool and one of my favorites. Less scary than the bullwhip and less painful than the cane. Master strikes me a few times to warm me up, then increases the pressure to send me drifting. Not flying this time, but a kind of heady rush that makes me feel slightly elevated from what is happening. His rhythmic voice in relaying his technique to Sir is a steady backdrop to the punctuated blows he’s inflicting. My back and buttocks continue to be licked and bitten by the leather until they are singing. Master then squeezes my muscles where he’s worked me over, putting his own bruising fingerprints on my skin.
“This will look beautiful tomorrow,” Master says. “Won’t it,schiavo?”
“Yes, Master.” I think of the folder of pictures Master keeps in his big mahogany desk, taken after some of our more intense scenes. Master likes to look at them while I suck him off or reminisce about them with me, the way in which some married couples speak about their honeymoon.
Sir asks some questions about what Master gets out of this experience, which Master answers, echoing my own explanation of his particular brand of sadism, then Master adjusts the cross so that I’m bent in half. I widen my stance as an invitation to make use of my hole. Master doesn’t stretch me with anything but his lubed cock, hot and heavy inside me. He wants to make sure that even as I drift, I might still feel his penetration.
“There we are,” Master says with a slow sigh of appreciation once he’s fully seated, like falling into bed after a long day of toil. This is what I want to be for my Master and my Sir, a sanctuary for them to retreat from the pressures of being men, a safe place where they know they will be worshipped and adored as gods.
“Is he all right?” Sir asks because I’m still in that floaty place and not really responding. Master smacks my tender ass, and I groan out my pleasure.
“You learn over time what’s normal for your sub,” Master says, spreading my ass cheeks, probably so that he can watch his cock drill deeper inside me. “Giovanni is loose right now because he’s in his happy place. I could stuff an eggplant inside of him and he wouldn’t complain. This is also why you must be careful not to take advantage, because a sub is most vulnerable at this stage, and they don’t always have the wherewithal to safeword.”
Their talk fades away while Master seeks his pleasure, making use of my hole until he finishes inside me with a hefty grunt. I haven’t come yet, as I’ve tried to avoid rubbing my dick against the vinyl. Master has caught onto what I’m doing.
“He’s waiting for you,” Master says and tugs roughly on my stiff cock. “He wants to come while you breed him.”
“I like that,” Sir says. “This can be my rule, no?”
“You can make rules with your own sub. Giovanni follows his Master’s rules.”
A stab of jealousy assaults me at the idea of Sir taking a sub, but it is soon burned away by the sensation of Sir mounting me. I’ve become accustomed to his girth, but it still takes a few deep breaths and Master’s firm hand pressing between my shoulder blades to orient me.
“Color?” Master asks because he doesn’t know what’s normal now between Sir and me.
“Green.”
“Relax,tesoro,” Master reminds, and this is the encouragement I need to fully submit to Sir.
I drift again, feeling like an animal that’s been skinned and is lying only in its flesh. Sir takes his sweet time as always, making me whimper and groan as I wordlessly beg him to pick up the pace and fuck me like he means it. Finally, he does, collecting his righteous due with every bruising stroke. He yanks me back toward him by my hair so he can penetrate me deeper, lifting me onto the balls of my feet to hollow me out completely.
“You like this, Giovanni?” Sir asks in between the wet slap of his groin against my ass cheeks.
“Yesshh,” I slur only to realize I am also drooling.
“Then show me. Come for me, princess. You first.”
Sir grabs my cock and twists his palm over the head of it rapidly like it’s a doorknob he’s frantically trying to open. I shudder and clench around him as the pleasure ricochets through me in body-slamming waves. I’m caught in a riptide, being carried away by it, and I must simply wait for the ecstasy to release me before I’m able to stand again. When my breath and my sanity return, Sir is bent over me, his weight resting heavily on my back while he pants into my ear, “Bellissimo, Giovanni.Grazie.”
“Prego, Signore.”
17
“You did very well last night,” Master praises as he places a piece of chilled melon in my mouth and instructs me to chew. “What did you think about the scene?”
“I enjoyed it, but do you think that will happen very often?”
“How would you feel if it did?” he asks with a note of caution.
Master has trained me to submit to him and him alone, but Sir demands my submission too. I want to be a dutiful and virtuous slave, but I’m not sure how to properly serve two Masters. When I share this with Master, he says, “I think we’ve come to an agreement. Finish your breakfast, and then we’ll talk about what to do with Sir.”
When I’ve eaten all the food Master set out for me and I’m luxuriating in his arms again, he says, “If you agree,tesoro, I’d like to train Silvio on how to be a Dominant, formally, using you as our sub.”
