Ad passed by her, lifting to the upper deck and setting up a towel and some other stuff. Aletta reached her leg out, making a barrier on his way. Ad kicked the barrier, swore, slit her with eyes and grumbled “sorry”.
Aletta smiled at him with her most dazzling smile, beautifully languidly leaned an elbow on the back of a chair not looking at him on purpose.
"Sit down, I’ll buy you a coffee," she offered carelessly, sharply looked at the boy, but he wasn’t there anymore. Aletta blushed of humiliation. Cocky slave! She imagined, how he would beg for mercy. She hated people, who were like that slave. She was waiting, till he would fall victim of Stine’s charm, and he would bring him on their joy. Then she would be able to give to him, for all those petulancies, that treating, which such whores deserve. They, usually, were lovers of the coryphaeuses, greedy prostitutes, who had nothing except their beauty. This one came to the cruise, surely, to meet someone like Alsheh Mareh, coryphaeus of Firokami, an artist. Well, he’d be surprised.
Stine was frigging Al consciously violent, hurting the sphincter, not considering him an equal man, or, maybe, he really didn’t know, how painful it was. Masters, usually, took cares of their asses.
“Like it, slut?” Stine was breathing right into Al’s ear.
“Yes, master,” the beast habitually answered.
Stine cummed on Al’s butt. Slid down on the bed, calming the breath down. The slave was lying motionless, keeping his hips up, waiting for an order. The man recovered his breath, reached out a leash and clasped it to the collar. Al still had an erection, irritated prostate caused physical tensing, but who would wait until he’d cum, it was supposed unneeded, to wait for a slave to get pleasure.
“May I cum, master?” asked Al.
“Open your mouth and cum,” Stine dropped the slave on the floor and began to piss on his face and into the mouth.
The slave was trying to finish it all faster; the hand moved quickly, master’s acting was bothering, as always. Piss was hitting the face with a sharp stream, was getting into the mouth and eyes, was tickling the skin with little flows. Finally, Stine finished and started getting dress, looking at Al. It was enough time for Al to cum.
“Take it off the floor,” ordered Stine quietly.
Al leaned forward began licking the piss off the floor. Stine watched the ritzy humiliation of the slave. He nodded and pulled the leash, taking All to the deck. People looked at the handsome slave with interest, sometimes hiding embarrassed smiles.
Aletta, seeing Stine and Al, sneered. She liked what she saw. Here it is - the difference between a slave and a master. You might have been bigger, but will-power plays a much more significant role. When the pair got closer, Aletta screwed her face.
“Well, where’ve you been?”
Stine put the leash down, hung upon the rails, litting the cigarette and looking down as if he had nothing to do with the delay of the slave.
“I’m sorry, mistress. I was helping the master to drop his tension down.”
“I’ll punish you for the delay. Have you delayed on purpose? Do you love getting punishments? No doubt, you were asking the master to use you? You want nothing but fuck! You are even too lazy to bring a glass of water!” she turned against Al. She felt much better now, her recently disgrace was being thoroughly erased from the memory. Someone was in a more humiliation position than she’d happened to be.
“Mistress, I always hurry to you, but I can’t reject the master, as I am a slave.” Assured Al colourlessly.
There was a sweet cramp on the back of the woman because of the soft voice of the humiliated god.
“Lie down, face to the stairs!” Aletta ordered.
Al obediently lied on his side. The woman sat on a chair and took a leash from the table.
“Stronk, slut, I know you like it,” she hissed.
The slave started applying the arm to the penis. Aletta was ordering:
“Faster, fondle your testicles, slut, stronger! Pull them off!.. Harder!...” the mistress began to push chainrings of the leash into the irritated ass of Al.
The slave was painfully crinkling; Aletta’s movements caused sufferings. The beast was breathing woundedly and noisily.
"Please, mistress, it hurts…" asked Al.
Aletta grinned.
"You think, I don’t know? Don’t distract, stronk."
"Where’s the boy?" asked Stine, being incapable to see him downstairs.
"Left." Aletta prosily responded, beginning to pull out the leash and then again in. "Have you set up about something?"
"He’ll come to dinner at my table."
"You are just adorable!" Aletta burst into laugh coquettish.
Al was trying to come as soon as possible. It was impossible to catch the trick, talks, questions, compellations to him, the activities of masters always distracted. While they were talking, Al, despite the pain, was trying to imagine the favourite fantasy. He dropped the supple young body of a lover on the grass beside a house, and they laughed to each other. Behind their backs, a sea was whispering something. Expectancy of sex extinguished pain, and the sex would be amazing, and no one would bother. He picked the lover’s legs to the shoulders and touched a tight sphincter with his flesh… Al squeezed his penis harder, outgushing, as usual, in his palm. Aletta pulled the leash out of the slave’s ass. The beast ruefully moaned.
"Will you look at water?" Aletta asked tiredly satisfied.
"Yes, mistress," sighed out Al, squeezing his muscles.
Aletta took his down, fastened to the board.
"I’ll get back for you before dinner."
"Yes, mistress."
The woman enjoyed the envious glances of other women on the deck, ran her hand over Al’s shoulder and went away.
Al looked around, but there was no chair on the deck. He may have leaned on the board or sit on the deck, but then he wouldn’t see water, and Aletta could have noticed it and decide, he was boring and then she would make up some fun for him. The guts were sores, nervously twitching inside. The slave was painfully squeezing the muscles, wincing. He may have not pretending he is pleasured; now, there was no one to see his face.
Al got into the slavery of Dora many years ago. Before that he’d been living in a church orphanage. Firokami was a multi-confessional city. No religion was higher or more expanded than others. Never the less, there were representors of confession, and they were doing their usual disgusting things. Since then he hadn’t known another life, only read about it or seen from the outside. One day, he would live another way, but he didn’t know how to make it real. He wasn’t allowed to go alone, and they were afraid, such precious slave would be stolen. Maybe, he would have left, maybe, he would have been able to break free and run away, but how far would he run, naked, not knowing where to run? Maybe, he would have stayed alive in the forest alone, with no one near, but how would he get there?.. Since he was eight, he’d been inculcated, that he was a slave, a toy for his masters, that he’d been born for this. He’d been fed, watered, dressed as necessary. He was afraid of the freedom that he didn’t know. What could he earn with? He saw slaves made money with exactly being slaves. He cooked good, knew herbs and tea, perfectly danced, knew how to housekeep, but he needed to find a house somewhere, to keep. All, that this unknown freedom suggested, frightened him more, than abuse of Dora and her friends.
Al heard an admired moan behind his back, sighed out annoyingly. Surely, it was yet another mistress who interrupted hidden dreams about his own home, sea, green grass and a pleasant lover. Al turned around rapidly so that the mistress wouldn’t take it as disdain toward her attention. There was a slave in front of him. Expensive, greedy, with hungry perverse cherry eyes. One of the lovers of the Firokami’s elite. Al smiled with relief, nodded friendly. He wasn’t afraid of slaves. The boy tweaked his shoulder and head rapaciously, thoroughbredly shifted on feet, slightly opened his lips and breathed out. Came closer.
“Hello,” this beauty dead-smoothly murmured.
“Hello,” responded Al.
The boy sneaked as a snake under the leash towards the board.
“Does it hurt somewhere?” softly, cautiously asked the boy. Al had never met before such open admiration from those ruthless expensive slaves. Such boys admired jewellery and ingots. Al confused. The boy ran his hand over the dried piss on Al’s cheek. The beast winced, it felt awkward for how he looked for the first time over the long years. A primaeval look of the weak origin was waking the dangerous emotions up.
“It doesn’t…” Al shook his head, staring at the boy. The fragile, perfect beauty was staring at Al in reply, admirably caressing his whole body with the dizzying eyes. They stopped on the beast’s penis, looking at the proud organ, primevally beautiful and strong even in a state of rest. Under the cherry sight the flesh of Al, as it felt the attention, plumped up. The penis got hard. Al felt embarrassed; the feeling was almost unknown, forgotten. The beast shifted on his feet. The boy lifted his eyes to Al, smiled glary. It smelled softly with something fresh, hot and sweet, nuts and blossom. The boy stepped closer; he only had tiny panties, that were totally opening his butt and hips. The beauty took a step on the border stone, let Al’s penis between his legs. The boy was breast high comparing to Al, and at that moment he reached his lips. Al caught him, nestled to himself, exhaled:
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to have a fuck…” grunted the boy dizzyingly, inhaling the smell of sweat and another’s excrements.
“Here?” Al surprised. It had never occurred to him to be shy before.
“Of course, not! Let’s go to my place!” said the boy acidly, tugging the leash of Al.
The supple body of the boy was so real, so desirable. Al nestled his tighter, leaned forward and kissed him. The beauty answered to the kiss devotedly. His palms slid on the shoulders and back of the boy.
"I am a slave," he hardly pulled away from the lips of the boy, as it was the last reason of sense.
"I kinda see," grinned the boy, nestling to Al.
He raised one leg to the beast’s hip; the slave helped to raise the other. The boy was trying to move away from the bikini string, so it would be more comfortable for Al to enter. The god ripped it off, tearing the thin cloth. The boy sighed sweet, shuffled his cod on Al’s penis. The beast directed the penis into a boy’s ass, and he heatedly groaned because of that movement. The beast penetrated impatiently; the ass was clean, tight as if it was virgin, very strong. The muscles hugged the owner’s penis at once. Al moaned, began moving, firmly holding the boy’s back and the butt, stirring him around. Now the only thing that Al was capable to think about was how not to cum immediately, how to stay there as long as possible. The boy was ambrosial bothering, dancing on the man, wavily squeezing his penis inside, kissing the neck and the shoulders, licking off Al’s face all marks of humiliation. Al was crumpling the boy’s skin, enjoying every second. “Well, please, a little more,” he was begging. “A little more”, the beast annoyingly moaned, squeezed himself, trying to hold on, and streamed out. The boy groaned something slavish and sweet. Al imbibed the smell of the beauty’s dark hair, moved again. The boy sonorously gasped, silently but alike sonorously started to scream because of Al’s movements, trying to get himself up and free, submissively skewering down. With yet another move in the post-orgasm spasm, which Al hadn’t noticed, the boy clawed at the beast’s shoulder. Al shrugged and streamed out again. He was holding the boy very firmly, and it was so unwished to let this jewel go, but he had nothing. He had no home where he could bring the jewel to. For the first time, burning desire of freedom overcame him. He was ready to tear up the chain right away and ran with him. But where? To the ocean? Al let the boy take off.
"What is your name?" an instinct of a wild animal pushed him to turn around. A friend of Aletta, Melinda was heading towards him. "Go away," said the beast harshly. "And never close to me again."
Al turned the boy and pushed him off, covering him, so that the sadist woman wouldn’t see him. The boy made a couple of steps, his eyes blazed, and quickly, nimbly lost himself in a crowd. Al inhaled bitterly. He wouldn’t remember the name he hadn’t gotten to know. But he can’t let them see him; they’d definitely want him. So they won’t capture him.
Comments (5)
See all