“Why did you come here?” asked Alon in deaf despair.
“To you,” velvety said Ad.
Gene went out. There were cheers from the next room.
“Didn't I tell you to find a patron?” asked Alon.
“I found...” Ad kissed the shoulders of the man.
“Where is he?! Why isn't he following you?”
“Because I came to him,” Ad rubbed his cheek against the Alon’s shoulder.
“To whom?” Alon couldn’t understand. “Is that me?”
Ad slowly snaky smiled. Alon moaned.
“Ad! I told you to stay away from me, you don't belong here!”
“I can't live without you...” breathed Ad.
The man stroked the boy’s back.
“I'm a slave, Ad, not a master. Slaves don't become masters.”
“For me you are God,” Ad was kissing him.
“What it would cost here when the master will break your life,” the tears ran down the face of Alon, the life always disappointed him, giving something beautiful, and then taking it away. How could someone in his position dare to dream about something? A slave existed for the pleasure of a master, so it had always been and so would be.
“I’m alive only near you.”
“I can't bear to know you're going to be broken. You have no idea where you're going. You'd better listen to me.”
“Why it’s better?” Ad rubbed by him.
“This disgusting pile wouldn’t soil you with their ideas,” in despair, said Alon.
“I thought you like living with them, as you…”
In the room appeared Amir, looked at Alon.
“Go away.”
The instinct of self-preservation howled that if he bridled, he would be beaten. His resistance couldn’t protect Ad. But if he didn’t try to help the boy, how could he live? Came up with a nasty idea that he would, as for the satisfaction of masters he didn’t need the skill to protect his secret dreams. Alon shook his head.
“Take me, master,” said the slave, turning away from Ad.
“I said, get out of here. Especially Stine is waiting for you. The masters are drinking coffee, and they have nowhere to put the rubbish out.”
Fear was flowing through the mind, the last time the masters had thought that Alon resisted, he was beaten off internal organs for a week. Given the fact that the masters did not allow him to lie down to recover, he recovered for a very long time, and doctors for such as he were never called.
“Please, sir, let me stay,” Alon cried.
Amir shook his head.
“Okay, stay, but you know I'll tell you that you didn't want to go, and you chose to stay.”
“No, sir, I want to stay here in case you want to kick someone you don't restrain yourself and have fun. The slave exists to satisfy the master, I think the desire to kick someone is more important than to throw garbage.”
“You're so stupid, good-naturedly,” said Amir and went to Alon. “And if I don't want to kick someone, what are you gonna do then?”
“Then I'll wait for you to strike or while you…”
“Haven’t you still not understood, my God, you’re so handsome, that for them there is no greater pleasure, which they can invent than to look how you do something they can’t,” said Ad to Alon. The handsome perversely attractive spread out on the bed, finding a place there without the blood. Alon anxiously waited for the immediate punishment for Ad. Amir rushed to the boy; he deftly slipped out of bed, ominously laughed.
“I'll mutilate you, you bastard,” hissed Amir, “You’ll cry with blood.”
“Do not, I beg you, why do you anger the master,” pleaded Alon and stood with his back to Ad. “Master, why to maim, he is very handsome, if he would be mutilated, he’ll cease to be interesting.”
Amir shrugged Alon off, rushed to Ad, he flew on the sill, walked gracefully and sexy on it.
“Aren’t you scared to jump in here?”
“Stop it,” roared with horror Alon from the prospects of Ad.
“My God, but I...” Ad jumped off the windowsill; unruly lowered his head.
“Oh,” Amir gasped, “your God, fine. God, come order your vassal to get on all four and crawl to me.”
Amir watched Ad, referring to Alon.
It was a blow under the belt, Alon couldn’t but obey, but, perhaps, such a betrayal from his side would make Ad to leave. It looked like he was trading with his conscience. He will help to shit in the soul of Ad, he’ll shit there himself and for that, he would not be punished now but would be punished later. But if he didn’t help to shit, they will shit anyway and more disgustingly. Alon stepped to Ad, caught him by the waist and raised his ass to Amir. While moving Ad was fondling the buttocks and genitals of Alon.
“Please, master, use,” the slave went down on one knee and throwing the boy over his shoulder, spread his legs. The penis of Ad rested against the shoulder of Alon, stroked, getting up. Alon heard the excited breathing of the boy, who kissed his back, slavishly caressed his genitals.
Amir smirked, abruptly entered the narrow ass of the boy clumsily and traumatically jerking the sphincter. The master clung to the boy's hips, trying to cause more pain, pulled him over. Ad slowly wantonly breathed out, not in the rhythm of the master. Alon's hands, fixing his legs spread, excited more than all of Amir's imagination. The boy made a long exhale, poured out on the breast of Alon, a trickle of semen of Ad caressed the nipple of the man. Alon shrugged, quietly exhaled. Ad emerged from the bliss of his thoughts, he was excited by the boundless power of Alon over himself and the ability to offer him to someone, not letting go of his embrace, drove him crazy, plunging into sweet humiliation. When had cummed from the awareness of the actions of Alon, Ad decided that Amir was lucky enough. The boy forcefully squeezed the muscles of the after in a patterned wave. Amir had no chance to restrain; he poured out. Ad sharply relaxed the muscles; it seems to Amir that feeling was gone completely.
“You're doing it on purpose, whore!” Amir smiled grimly. “You want to try your God's vibrator?”
“Thank God, my god has a penis that doesn’t need substitutes.”
“Obstinate rubbish,” Amir left the room, leaving the door open.
Alon licked his lips, certainly Amir went for the vibrator.
“Master,” Alon called, “let me help.”
Stine entered the bedroom when Amir returned with the vibrator.
“Sure! Get lost with your toys, you’ll stretch the tight ass, then what will I do in there?”
“That trash won't let you fuck him!” Amir was indignant.
Stine looked incredulously at the pose of Ad. Ad kept silent, caressing Alon.
“How is it possible in this position to not let you fuck him?” Stine came to Alon. “You keep your enchanted slave? Attaboy. You're doing the right thing, showing the slaves their place.”
Ad didn't give cheek. Nobody saw how ominously Ad was smiling. He held back his laughter, imagining how angry the funny boy would be, whom Ad had intended to kill one night on the deck.
“Tell the newbie what the aim of a slave’s life is!” Stine ordered.
“The slave exists for the needs of the master,” said Alon.
“While I'm fucking this cute whore, you'll explain the rules of behaviour of a slave. Don’t be afraid to say it in your own words,” said Stine, too, sharply entering Ad.
“Master - is the owner and the lord, master knows what's best for the slave...” Alon started.
Ad shuddered with voluptuous waves, words of Alon were turning on, he clenched the muscles skillfully bringing Stine to unimaginable delight.
Alon felt the subordinate desire of Ad, and if continuing to quote the rules of domination and submission, most likely the boy will get bored. The control over the desire of the boy flattered the beast; he didn't want to disappoint him. And it was safer to satisfy Stine.
“Slave is rightless; the master decides everything: what to feed, what to wear, how to fuck,” began to improvise Alon. Ad exhaled sweetly, gently caressing the Stine inside, massaging with the muscles and rolling his cock inside, not giving cum.
“Slave does not need to think of anything but ways to satisfy the master.”
“Oh...” Ad breathed.
“Oh...” Stine breathed.
“Master is an owner of desires, he decides, as, when and with what to cum a slave.”
Ad tightened, poured out again at the chest of Alon. Threw Stine into a storm of multi-waved orgasm.
“It’s punishable for the slave to hide the desire from the owner, it is necessary to copulate, as often as possible. The more often the slave feels the desire, the more enjoyment it brings to the owner,” Alon was making the things up, focusing on his own taste, and changing the terms to the bookish ones. Seeing the instant response, the beast rejoiced.
“The punishment for the slave, the award and the method of the communication are sex. The slave should always feel pleasure; otherwise he will not learn the lesson,” Alon once read it in the book, in practice, it wasn’t so, the masters didn’t care about the pleasure of the slave, just didn’t know how to. But when Alon embodied the book advice, everything worked out. Ad was in Alon's hands, moaning to the beat of his words. Stine went crazy owning the handsome. It occurred to Alon that Ad knew everything he was saying right now better than he did and that Alon was a newbie compared to him. It turned out that Ad as if leapt from the pages of the Albireo’s books, or, maybe Albireo wrote about such ones, writing them from life.
“The slave is a sex toy. The master takes care of the slave, fulfils their needs, cares, cherishes, washes and cleanses.”
Ad woundedly screamed in passion, almost dislocated the penis of Stine, light trickle began to flow again on the chest of Alon. The beast released one leg of Ad, gathered the cum from his chest and licked from the palm of his hand. It was fresh, fragrant with a light note of honey smell of flowers.
While Alon was talking, Ad was moving, driving Stine crazy, never in his life Stine received so much pleasure, with anyone. The master tried several times to cum, but he didn't want to lose even an iota of the enjoyment. Alon was also turned on, from the caresses of Ad and vivid fantasies that he was saying out loud.
“You're a slave, and I'll grind your dick to dust if you don't listen to me.” Ad shook, tossed Stine from delight in ecstasy as a contemptuous charity. Alon poured into his palm, brought his hand behind his back and opened his palm in front of Ad, heard a quiet moan and felt the boy’s lapping, heard the quiet sounds of his tongue. The pleasure fettered all three; there was a feeling that with the advent of Ad, sex finally looked in there.
Ad unclenched the muscles so that Stine could get out with no regrets. The satisfied sadist came out, threw the bloody blanket from the bed and fell on it. Amir, who didn’t look at Stine, left to another room, intending to return later.
“You can let him go, Al, you're probably numb all over,” generously, as it was supposed to satisfied ones, said Stine to Alon.
The boy licked the man's palm until it cleaned off. Alon was somehow sure that he was licking off in a cat’s manner.
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