“Have some.” I offer my hand for his careful attention. We each lick and suck the cum from my fingers, like that first ice cream cone we shared so long ago. Then I kiss his mouth slowly, purposefully, to remind him of the pleasure I can offer him. With his lips swollen from my kisses and just as a hint of a smile unfurling, his eyes dart again to the painting. He looks worried. Even more concerning, he looks ashamed.
“Master would want you to experience sexual release, Gio,” I remind him. His pleasure was paramount to Valentin. I often admired the many ways my brother could make hisschiavounravel.
“I know that, Sir.”
“But you still feel guilty?”
He stares down at his lap, his sweet phallus curled slightly over two hairless testicles. He still waxes his body hair, says he enjoys the ritual of it, and I’ve encouraged him to do as he pleases. Besides that, it will be better for my ropework if his skin is bare.
“Dimmi, Giovanni.” I am always begging him to tell me what’s on his mind.
“That was my first time since… since Master went away.”
He avoids the wordsdiedordeathand treats Valentin’s passing as an extended vacation or a long business trip, something impermanent from which he will return. Giovanni has not faced the finality of it, not truly.
“Do you think your Master would want you to remain celibate?” I gently tuck his hair behind his pierced ear so that I might see his whole face.
“No, Sir.”
“Would he want me to touch you, to take pleasure from your body?”
“He would want that, Sir.”
“You suck me every morning and that doesn’t cause you such turmoil.”
“Master would want me to show my appreciation for your hospitality.”
It stings that he would think of me as simply a proprietor of this house and not the keeper of his heart. “You are much more than my guest, Giovanni. You are my lover and my submissive.”
I lay his hand against my chest, the organ that throbs for him even more so than my cock. Sex with Giovanni is amazing, but I want also the intimacy and trust. I know that I must earn it, that I cannot have what he and his Master shared, but I do want to carve out something that is our own. I am reminded of the saying,Al cuore non si comanda. The heart is not commanded.Valentin could command Giovanni, but I must persuade him.
“I suppose it is harder for me to take pleasure than it is to give it,” he says. “It feels selfish and…wrong.”
“It goes both ways, giving and receiving. I am gratified when you come. Giving you pleasure is my sweetest delight.”
“But Master’s not here to… to give me permission.”
“Is it not enough that I give you permission?”
“That helps, Sir, but it would better if you demanded it.”
He wants me to have power over this too. Of course, he does. Valentin had complete authority over when hisschiavocame,ifhe came. Should I also assume that level of control?
“Listen carefully, Giovanni. When your passions ignite and your loins burn with a deep desire for release, then you must tell your Sir. In graphic detail,” I add because he has a command of language like no other. “You must tell me that your physical need to come is overwhelming you, and Sir will take care of it.”
“You’ll tell me what to do?” Giovanni asks hopefully.
“Every step of the way. Remember how you used to pleasure yourself for Valentin and me in the sauna?”
He nods, eyes blazing.
“You will perform for me too, according to my wishes. That means you may not touch yourself when I’m not around. And you are only permitted to seek release with my permission, according to my own desire.”
“That sounds good, Sir. Thank you for clearing that up. You’ll have to think of a proper way to punish me if I mess up.”
“How about no kissy noises for a week?”
He looks taken aback, then says, “Tough but fair. Though with your libido, I could probably convince you to give in after a day or two.”
