I chuckle and marvel at how everything with Sir is just so… easy.
18
This slave is spoiled rotten. Between Master’s firm hand and Sir’s loving touch, I wonder if I’ve died and gone to Heaven. I am proud of Sir’s efforts at learning domination and Master’s ability to translate his deep well of understanding of the lifestyle to his younger brother.
We have several more scenes, and a few more punishments. I’m angelic, but I’m no angel, especially with the way I like to tease Sir and test his virtues. Sir begins to adopt what I call a Dom voice with me, and I shiver and nearly wet my pants whenever I hear it. I suspect he knows this too and uses it to his advantage, but even without the voice, I’d give Sir whatever he wanted.
Master continues to design and choreograph our sessions, demonstrating the breadth of his knowledge and expertise, and Sir begins to take a more active role. For cuddling afterward, that is Sir’s arena almost exclusively. My favorite scenes are when they share me or when I must please them both, alternating or at once. With Sir as part of our dynamic and our household, he’s free to make use of me whenever he desires, which means the kissy noise is back, and I spend a lot of time on my knees. Like Anthony once did, Master marvels at my appetite for dick.
It’s a strange phenomenon to be shared like this, passed from arm to arm, cock to cock, servicing one man and then the other. And brothers, no less. I feel like Persephone, torn from Demeter’s bosom to be subjugated under Hades’ passions, only to return to her mother and find herself both desecrated and self-aware.
Most nights I fall asleep in Sir’s arms and wake up with Master. I become so comfortable taking orders from both men, that I occasionally mix up their titles. I’m in such a blissful state of mind that even Anthony is growing on me.
One afternoon while we’re lounging in the steam room after a swim, Master blindfolds me and he and Sir take turns, passing me back and forth until I’m cum-drunk and can hardly stand. They are relentless in their passions, and I take back what I said about Atlantis. I’d like to spend an eternity in Master’s steam room, getting plugged on both ends. I wouldn’t even need my limbs or my eyes, just a mouth and hole to be used for their pleasure. As the Gods fed on ambrosia, I will feed on Fortuna cum.
“Don’t you ever get a vacation?” Anthony says to me as I emerge from the cave on wobbly knees with cum dripping from both my mouth and my anus. Master and Sir dismissed me to wash for dinner and so they might have one of their Dom-to-Dom debriefs.
“Anthony.” I shake my head and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Why would anyone want a vacation from this?”
“You can hardly stand after taking all that dick,” he says.
“Yes,” I nod, illuminated from the inside. This slave is covetous indeed.
One morningI wake to find myself still in Sir’s arms. It’s alarming at first because no matter what we’ve gotten up to the night before, I always wake up to Master. I search his suite of rooms, but he’s not on the chaise or in his study either.
“Master?” I call through the large corridors, feeling like a lost lamb.
“In the kitchen, Giovanni.”
I enter the kitchen to find Master preparing breakfast. “That’s my job.” I don’t like to break from routine, and I want to be useful around the house for more than just sex.
“I thought I’d let you sleep in. Your Sir used you hard last night.”
Sir, intrepid Sir, designed a series of compression postures for me to perform, ones that tested my flexibility, strength, and endurance. He said he got the idea from watching me do my Sun Salutations. Then, with my limbs and muscles trembling with fatigue, he put me in the swing and fucked me deep and slow in Sir’s own special way.
There is a certain rigidity in the set of Master’s shoulders, so I ask, “Is there something you’d like to tell this slave? Some correction you’d like to make?” Master rarely gets jealous, but I would understand if he did.
“We’ll discuss it at breakfast. Can you please go wake your Sir?”
Sir is a deep sleeper, but he is still only a man, and it isn’t long before I’m able to drag him, stumbling and smiling, out of the bedroom and plant him in his seat at the other head of the table. Master pulls out my chair for me and I join them there.
It takes Sir a little while to wake up, usually after his first espresso, but when he finally does, Master says, “I have some news.”
I place my utensils on the table and give him my full attention.
“I was able to find someone to help you finish your training,” Master says to Sir. “In Milan.”
Milan?Milan is… at least nine hours away by ferry and train. Or a plane ride at the very least. Sir glances over at me, looking guilty. This is the first I’m hearing about it. Is this what they’ve been discussing in their Dom-to-Dom debriefs?
“Finish?” I ask meekly.
“Sir has kinks that extend beyond our limits, Giovanni. Specifically, bondage. He needs to train with an expert to, shall we say, learn the ropes.”
Master is trying to make light of the situation but it’s not helping. In fact, he’s making it worse. I glare at Sir, feeling hurt and betrayed and a little bit guilty too because it’smyfault he can’t learn bondage with Master.
“I could try,” I tell them.
“Giovanni,” Master says in a placating tone, “I appreciate your willingness to serve, but Sir would not benefit from a skittish sub, and I’m also not willing to compromise your mental health for the sake of a demonstration.”
