“Y-yes, sir,” Douglas panted, fists tight in the sheets again.
“And if ever you’re ordered to do this to your master—which you will be, I assure you—or even to another slave, you must never complain of the smell, or the taste, or the dirtiness of it, do you understand? I don’t care if your master sprays liquid flatulence in your mouth while you rim him.” Nikolai swallowed a gag at his own disgusting turn of phrase. What an absolutely horrible thing to say. He was spending too much time with the brother. “If he’s ordered your attentions, you’ll give them as if you’re licking your favorite ice cream. Am I clear?”
Douglas swallowed hard enough for Nikolai to hear. “Yes, sir.”
Quite a shaky affirmation. Nikolai made a mental note to test the boy’s resolve in this regard sometime before selling him.
But for now, best to return to the task at hand. This lesson was about pleasure, and he intended to keep it that way. He gripped Douglas’s ass, squeezing hard, and dove in wholeheartedly. He spat to get him wet. Fucked him repeatedly with his tongue. Used sloppy, broad motions to wet the smooth hardness behind his hanging sac.
The boy was biting the blanket now, making high-pitched whines and whimpers that he only half managed to smother. His body bucked and twisted in Nikolai’s grip, but he didn’t try to escape. In fact, once or twice Nikolai could swear he pushed back, trying for more, deeper, and Nikolai refused him every time, darting back, attacking again when Douglas had stopped trying to dominate the pace.
“Don’t neglect the ball sac,” he paused to say once he’d nearly worked the boy into a frenzy. “Or the penis, if your master has given you permission to touch him. He may not, if he plans to draw out his pleasure.” Nikolai slid a hand around Douglas’s hip to his raging hard-on—ah, the joys of being twenty-three—and laved his tongue hard and heavy across the boy’s balls. Sucked one into his mouth, then the other, then nosed behind them to lick his perineum. In front of him, Douglas whimpered and moaned and squirmed, whines of mortification and unwanted pleasure a heady mixture in Nikolai’s ears. He curled his fingers tighter around Douglas’s erection and thrust back inside the boy’s hole with his tongue, fucking him with it in time to his strokes, forcing the boy right to the edge—
And then pulling back and clamping fingers down around the base of his cock, stopping him from tipping over.
Douglas lay stiff and tense, panting hard and flushed halfway down his back, head turned to one side, jaw and eyes clenched shut.
“Some masters take great pleasure from tormenting their slaves with their own desire. Ordering another slave to bring them to the brink of orgasm over and over without ever letting them spill. Or perhaps letting them eventually, if they beg prettily enough. Would you beg me now, Douglas?”
“No,” the boy moaned. Halfway to broken already. “I don’t want . . . I don’t . . . I . . .”
Nikolai chuckled to himself. The poor thing didn’t know what he wanted.
“Time for your next lesson, then,” he said, and added when the boy tensed as if bracing for pain, “all pleasure, I promise.”
He ran a hand back through his hair, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He wasn’t as worked up as Douglas was, but he was feeling dangerously out of control. If he were a lesser man and a lesser master, he’d punish the boy for inciting him so.
“Tell me, when you fingered yourself before, how did you do it?”
“I . . . I just did it, sir. I . . .”
“Did you lubricate yourself?”
“I didn’t have anything to do that with.”
“Do what with?”
A shaky inhalation through the nose. “Lubricate myself, sir. I didn’t have anything to lubricate myself with.”
“Of course you did. You had your own saliva, did you not? Not exactly the most efficient method, but serviceable enough. You could probably penetrate yourself now without any pain, wet and relaxed as I’ve made your hole.”
Douglas actually shuddered in disgust.
“Let’s test my theory. Give me your hand. Don’t change positions. Just reach back.”
It took Douglas a moment or two to let go of the sheets he was clinging to, but eventually he did as told, meekly offering up his hand even as he asked, “D-do I have to, sir?”
“Yes. It’s one thing to weather a man forcing his way into you like you no doubt did at Madame’s. Quite another to penetrate properly, whether oneself or others. Discipline, Douglas.” He took the boy’s hand, gently guiding it where it needed to go. He dragged the limp fingers up and down the boy’s wet crack, up and down, up and down, watching with distinct pleasure as Douglas’s hole twitched on every pass. “Your body wants to be filled,” he said. “Feel it?” Just the middle finger, now. He guided it to circle, then pushed it inside. Douglas hissed, but didn’t cry out. “Don’t tense. There’s no call for it. You’ll only cause yourself pain.”
“Please, sir,” Douglas whined, “I don’t . . . I don’t like it, pl—”
“Don’t lie to me, Douglas. I won’t abide that.” He slid his free hand beneath Douglas’s body again, gripped the boy’s cock, hard as it was right before Nikolai had stopped him from orgasming. “I’m going to let go of your hand now. I want you to fuck yourself. You’re to add a second finger as soon as you’re able, and don’t even think of procrastinating on that. Some days, this will be the only preparation you’ll have before your master fucks you with his cock or his fist or anything else he might deign to shove inside you.” The boy blanched visibly at fist. Another training session to add to his mental checklist. “You’d best learn to be efficient at it. Or you really will suffer consequences, Douglas, in the traditional sense of the term.”
Douglas’s finger began to move.
“That’s it. Now remember, I’m watching. Put on a nice show for me. Let me hear you moan. I know you want to.”
Douglas didn’t at first, but then he added a second finger like a good boy without being reminded, and that drew out a soft little noise. Not the fake ones he’d made for Nikolai’s benefit when he’d been sucking cock. This was genuine pleasure, tearing its way unbidden and unstoppable out of his throat.
“That’s it, Douglas, that’s very good. Very good. Now here”—he curled his fingers gently around Douglas’s palm, tilted his hand up at just the right angle. Douglas went limp, let himself be posed. “Let me show you how to make it better. Fingers in as far as you can, that’s it. Now curl them forward and make short little strokes, looking for th—” Douglas grunted and lurched, toes curling. “The hard little nub,” Nikolai finished through a smile. “That’s your prostate. If you rub it long and hard enough, you may orgasm from that alone, or ejaculate without orgasming. But don’t do that now—I’ll be quite cross with you if you ejaculate or orgasm before I’m through with this lesson.”
Douglas stroked hesitantly, once, twice, thrice, letting out a bitten-back gasp each time.
“In the event your master orders you to penetrate him with anything at all—your fingers, your cock, a toy—you should pay careful mind to his prostate. A good deal of pleasure comes from stimulation of that gland.”
Nikolai could tell Douglas was nodding because his whine wobbled with the motion of his head. God, how could Nikolai ever sell him now? He was so unimaginably perfect.
“Do you think you can take my cock now?” he asked. “And don’t dare lie.”
“Please don’t, please . . .” And yet he still fucked himself with his fingers. Hard, firm, rocking motions. Hungry.
Nikolai sighed heavily, as if disappointed, though he’d expected nothing different. “Such a shame,” he said. “I’d wanted so very much to teach you pleasure today. Instead, I see I must teach you the meaning of consequences.”
The boy’s hand stilled. His whole body stilled. Weighing his choices, no doubt. “You . . .” he whispered, tight and thick. “You won’t hurt me?”
“If I penetrate you, you mean? Or if I teach you of consequence?”
“P—�
�� Douglas grimaced, cleared his throat. “Penetrate me, sir.”
Nikolai graced him with his warmest smile, stroked a hand down his trembling flank. “Not if you’re honest with me about your state of readiness. I know you’ve been taught to associate this only with pain, but it can be a glorious thing, I assure you.”
“I . . . I think I’m ready. I don’t know, I’ve never done this before. I don’t know. I’m sorry. Please, I’m just tired of hurting.”
“Shhh. I know. I’ll never hurt you again if you don’t give me cause, Douglas. I want to love you, remember?” Douglas nodded shakily, and Nikolai reached down, removing the boy’s hand from his hole. Massaged his sides in slow, soothing circles. Thought of taking him like this, but no. It should be face-to-face. He gave the boy’s ass a gentle swat to get him moving. “Roll onto your back. Now take your knees in your hands and hold yourself open for me.”
His face was so impossibly beautiful. Flushed pink and red, his bottom lip swollen from being bitten. His eyes wet with unshed tears. His chest heaved as he panted. His cock leaked pre-cum onto his smooth belly.
Focus, Nikolai.
“Not every master will lubricate himself,” he said as he did exactly that, reaching for a bottle in the nightstand. He savored the feel of his slicked hand on his cock, but the thought of being buried in that tight ass . . . “I imagine you’re familiar with that sensation by now?”
Douglas nodded, and Nikolai could see the memory of pain on his face, plain as day.
“If you prove yourself worthy, I promise to do my very best to sell you to a man who will treat you as you deserve to be treated. Not rut with you like some animal, but love you as I will. Make love to you like the cherished thing you are.”
One day, he’d cry thank you, sir, thank you upon hearing such tender words from Nikolai. But not yet. Nikolai would get the boy crying one way or another soon enough, though. He wrapped his hands around Douglas’s thighs, pulling that pliant body half onto his lap and tilting it at an angle that revealed the boy’s hole again.
“Don’t let go of your knees. Don’t close your legs.” Nikolai hummed in pleasure at the sight, a perfect echo of the buzz of pleasure running through his entire body. “I’ll go slowly. You’ll tell me if I cause you any pain. Now remember to relax, and if you feel yourself starting to tense, simply bear down as if on a bowel movement; that will loosen the muscle.”
Anatomy lessons weren’t exactly Nikolai’s idea of effective foreplay, but gods, he was hungry for this boy. He gripped his slicked cock in his fist—no condom, they were all healthy here, and the boy needed to learn how it felt to be marked—and rubbed his head along Douglas’s crack. Thrust gently a few times, letting Douglas grow accustomed to the feel of another body pressed so intimately, of the weight between his thighs, the heat between his cheeks. Leaned forward as he did so and flicked his tongue over a nipple. The boy gasped at the touch, and his hard cock, trapped between their bodies, twitched.
“You’re afraid. Maybe you even hate me. But your body wants this. Badly, I think. It’s time to stop fighting. It’s time to give in to me, to the truth you’re so desperately denying. You were made for this. By God, by evolution, molded by your experiences . . . how doesn’t matter, only that you were. It’s time to accept that.”
“Please.” No elaboration. Either the boy was learning not to beg, or Nikolai was better at this than he thought. Either way, Nikolai had the upper hand.
“You need but ask, my pretty little pet,” he sighed against Douglas’s nipple. He slid his hand down between them, gripped himself again, lined himself up with Douglas’s hole and pushed the head of his cock inside.
They moaned in unison, Nikolai’s as broken as the boy’s. Such tight heat, gods, it was all he could do not to thrust inside, rut and rip into that body like those beasts at Madame’s had. But he held his hips still, perfectly so, as his mentor had taught him, and soothed the boy’s trembling body with massaging hands and tickling tongue.
“You see?” he murmured, nipping kisses across the boy’s collarbone, into the hollow of his shoulder. “No pain, correct? It feels good?”
“No, sir,” Douglas said, watery and weak. He sniffled, sniffled again. No doubt as affronted as he was relieved that it didn’t hurt. In his mind, it was supposed to, and that made it easy to hate. But Nikolai had taken that away. “No pain. It’s . . . I wouldn’t call it good, sir. It’s just . . . it’s full.” And then, once he’d realized the insult in his words, “Please don’t punish me, sir! I’m sorry. You told me not to lie.”
“Shhh, it’s all right.” He slid in another inch or so, nuzzling behind the boy’s ear as Douglas tossed his head back at the motion. “That’s perfectly normal. It takes some getting used to, and I’ve not yet hit your prostate, remember?”
“Y-ye—” Douglas began, then cut off on a moan as Nikolai pushed in further and did exactly that.
“How about now?” Nikolai asked, sucking the soft lobe of the boy’s ear into his mouth. “Does it feel good now?” He thrust in a bit more for emphasis, a rocking motion more than anything, and the boy moaned again.
“Yes, sir,” he said—wailed, almost, voice full of pleasure and misery and shame and tears. It wasn’t a lie. Even though he hadn’t let go of his own knees, his body twisted and writhed underneath Nikolai’s, subconsciously urging him deeper. Nikolai knew those movements intimately. “Please,” Douglas begged, and this time managed to add, “I don’t . . . I don’t w—”
Nikolai cut him off with a kiss and a thrust that sheathed him fully inside the boy’s body. He didn’t want to lecture the boy about wants again; best just to take him, show him, force his pleasure. He straightened up, ass to heels, took Douglas by the hips and seated him more firmly in his lap. Put a hand over his mouth lest he get any ideas about talking. The boy’s wet breath heated Nikolai’s palm as he panted and whined. It hardly seemed possible, but Nikolai felt himself grow fuller inside the boy.
“Rest your legs on my shoulders. You must never touch your master without permission, but in time you will learn to anticipate what he desires of you, and permission may be implicit rather than explicit.” The boy obeyed. Moving his legs shifted the position of Nikolai’s cock inside him, drawing out another smothered moan. “Sometimes you will read your master wrong. You will be punished for that, but that is the risk you must take. Lying around like a dead fish waiting for orders pleases very few men.”
“Yes, sir,” Douglas moaned, the words escaping through Nikolai’s fingers.
“I will teach you a great many positions, but this one, face-to-face like so, is one of my own favorites.” Finally releasing the boy’s mouth, Nikolai leaned forward and bent Douglas’s legs back in a way that must have stretched him nearly to the point of pain and drove Nikolai’s cock even deeper inside him. “Especially with a boy as beautiful as you, I like to watch. When I take you from behind I may record you, or put you in front of a mirror, or maybe have someone else fuck you so I can savor you. The view is just as good as the experience, in your case.”
If those words brought the boy any pleasure, he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked closer to tears now than he had before.
“I want you to touch yourself, Douglas. You must never do this without permission—explicit permission—do you understand? And you must not come without the same. But this, here, now, is all about teaching you pleasure. So take yourself in hand. Show me how you like to stroke yourself.”
Douglas’s eyes widened. Yes, there were the tears, streaking down his temples to his ears. He shook his head. “Please no. I can’t. I can’t. Just fuck me, sir. Please just fuck me. Fuck me hard with your big cock, please.”
Wrong answer.
Nikolai seized Douglas’s hand with crushing force and mashed it against the boy’s cock, pinning the shaft between his palm and his belly.
“Do not try to trick me. I am not an animal at the mercy of my base urges or my ego, and I won’t be treated like one.” He pushed harder, until
he knew the boy’s erection would be withering from the pain. “Do you understand me?”
More tears. Douglas nodded, as rapidly and urgently as he’d been shaking his head.
“You’ve gone soft,” Nikolai told him coolly, as if it were a simple observation, rather than an effect of his own actions. “Get yourself hard again.”
Nikolai let go of Douglas’s hand, but the boy made poor use of his freedom; he flexed his trembling fingers, then stroked the tips of them halfway down his shaft, as if petting a newborn kitten he was afraid of harming. Then his fingers clenched into a fist, and a sob broke free from his lips.
“I can’t, sir, please.”
“Your brother said the same thing to me, and I’ll tell you what I told him: you can and you will.” He allowed himself a single thrust with his own cock, pulling out nearly all the way and then slamming back in. He didn’t expect it to hurt very much, if at all, but it no doubt shocked—the boy wailed. “Do you remember how I told you this didn’t have to hurt, Douglas?”
A shaky, sniffly nod, a wobbly, “Yes, sir.”
Nikolai thrust again, gentler than the last time. “The choice is yours, Douglas. You may choose pleasure, or you may choose pain. You’ve endured much pain since your procurement, and scant little pleasure. I can give you both like you’ve never known. You must learn to grab hold of pleasure when the opportunity presents. Such opportunities may be few and far between. Do you understand?”
Another shaky nod. “Y-yes, sir.” But still the boy didn’t take himself in hand. Perhaps Nikolai was being too subtle for his fragile state of mind.
“Should I hurt you now, Douglas? Or will you grab hold of your pleasure?”
“Please don’t,” Douglas said, tears flowing free now, and ah—there was his obedience. He wrapped his fingers around his soft cock, gave it a tug, another. Adjusted his grip and tried again.
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