"Kai, bring that stool." Master indicated a low seat. "Sit closer."
He complied, although warily, sitting just out of Master's reach.
"Tell me what you've learned today."
Master listened attentively as I began chattering, speaking in Granthian, Kai shyly chipping in with the occasional word. Master smiled and nodded, his attention evenly split between us as we talked, still stroking my hair.
As we lapsed into silence, he took over, discussing the theory of language acquisition, teaching the rudiments of sentence structure. Kai focused, repeating basic phrases, learning how to join them to the concrete nouns I had taught him. Master made it seem easy, slipping effortlessly between Thirskan and Granthian as he spoke, prompting Kai to respond. He asked for a hairbrush in Thirskan, and Kai passed it over before he even realised he'd understood.
"Thank you." Master smiled and took the brush, nudging me to sit between his knees. I closed my eyes as he began to draw it through my hair.
The lesson continued around me, a soft murmur of voices. Master patted my head and neck as he brushed my hair to rippling silk and began to plait it, pulling the strands tight. I only realised I'd signalled my contentment audibly when the voices fell silent. I opened my eyes and looked straight into Kai's. I gave him a lazy smile.
Master left the length of the long plait, now neatly tied off at the end, to curl his hands around my neck, teasing the skin below my collar.
Every sense in my body focused, nerves attuned to the soft press of his finger pads against my skin, the scrape of nails, his breath warm on my ear a second before his hot tongue flicked out, tasting me. He pulled me to him, palms smoothing my chest, taking each nipple between thumb and forefinger and squeezing them erect. My breaths quickened, and my whole body began to stir. I ran my hands over the soft cotton covering his calves and hitched up my knees. My belly rippled as I panted lightly, desperate for more.
Kai turned in on himself, arms clasped around his knees, huddled on his little seat as he watched me squirm under Master's knowing touch. I let my desire show on my face, how much I wanted this, craved it. Kai thought being a pleasureslave meant being subservient to the whims of my master, a vessel for him to slake his lust, mindless of my own desires. I found I wanted very much to disprove that impression, to show him I took as much pleasure from my role as I gave, that my needs also counted for something. That what Master and I shared was mutual, joyous, and not-as he thought-rape.
Another hot breath on my cheek, and I turned my head, welcoming the kiss, the soft play of Master's lips and tongue, demanding more as the kiss deepened and arousal grew. He lifted me, dragging me up until I sat in his lap, my back to him, my legs straddling his. I rested my head on his shoulder and he continue to kiss me, branding my chest and hips and stomach by grabbing handfuls of skin and squeezing in all my tender places, marking me in a primal, erotic way. I plunged my hand between us, massaging his erection through his clothes, whining a little as he thrust into my grip.
I scrabbled clumsily at his waistband, yanking it down to free him, to feel the press of hot, hard flesh against my buttocks. He quickly unwrapped my loincloth, flinging the scrap of material aside to have me naked on his lap. I sank onto him far too fast, my eagerness overriding caution, and I cried out, head thrown back, breaking out in sweat all over as I willed myself to accept him. He continued to stroke me, tongued my ear and jaw and neck, shushed my lingering whimpers and waited patiently for me to adjust.
His first thrust felt like being stabbed with a thousand hot knives, dry and rough. He slicked his fingers with saliva, reaching between my spread thighs to smear our bodies with fluid. He rolled his hips, my arsehole clenched, and he groaned, burying his face in my shoulder. I turned my head, kissing him clumsily as we began to rock.
It got easier, as it always did. I rose and fell in his lap, hitching one foot up beside his knee to drive us on, eager for more. He pinched my nipples, his nails digging small red crescents into sensitive flesh, making me hiss. Strange, guttural noises escaped us both, animal sounds of greed and lust. Sweat ran off my skin, crawling down my spine into my crack, adding much-needed lubrication.
I grasped my prick, slapping pitifully between my legs each time we came together, and tugged it a handful of times, the extra sensation forcing my hole to clench, squeezing so hard I imagined I could feel the bump of every vein in Master's cock as it slid in and out of me. My senses zeroed in on that sensation, of him being inside me, holding me open, stretching me wide as he thrust up, of the slow trickle of fluids along my taint. Of the exhibition I was making of myself, the wanton image I was displaying to Kai with my legs hitched up and my hole exposed, Master's fat cock drilling into me.
I forced my eyes open, half fearful of what I would see, but Kai, far from recoiling in horror, was staring raptly at us, eyes glazed and mouth open, panting lightly as he gazed transfixed at my most intimate places.
Rather than shaming me, Kai's response only made me more aroused. I was hard now, as hard as I'd ever been while being fucked. I gripped the base of my shaft, holding tight as lust crashed through me, threatening to make me lose control and come right there and then: the dual senses of being fucked by Master and watched by Kai more than enough to tip me over the edge.
Master covered my hands with his, the two of us cupping my cock and balls as he drove into me. The entire room stank of sex and sweat, the musk of my pre-come and the embarrassing bubbles of air that escaped when I descended too fast. I didn't care. It was all part of it: Master's grunts, Kai's quick breaths, the slap of clammy skin on skin, the crackling of logs in the fire, the slick, wet sounds of penetration, and my less than dignified whines and yelps.
Fatigue set in, my limbs locked and ached, cramped as they were with me practically squatting on Master's lap. I hung my head and gasped for breath as everything began to spiral away from me, overwhelmed to the point of collapse.
A stinging slap on my upper thigh concentrated my senses and I moaned, bearing down hard as Master thrust in to the hilt, stretching me with a wicked rotation of his hips around his widest point. I felt him tremble and I clenched, gripping him tight as he spilled inside me.
I fell clumsily onto him, the two of us gasping for breath. He stroked from my belly to my chest, and I twisted to kiss him. Our noses bumped and he rubbed his face against mine, our eyes closed, fingers knitted over my aching, neglected cock and balls. Something painful rose in my chest as he nuzzled me. I bit it back and squeezed my stinging eyes shut against it while he brushed my cheek and chin and nose.
I loved him. In the mornings when he was silent, preparing for work, in the evenings when he was grouchy. When he talked to me, and when he wanted to sit quietly before the fire and read, his fingers in my hair, I loved him. When he kissed me, when he touched me, toyed with me, took me in his mouth and made me come, I loved him. But never more so than in the moments when, like now, he was sated and sleepy, his limbs relaxed, an easy smile on his face as he kissed and petted and praised me, his dick softening inside my body.
It was almost enough for me to forgive him for leaving me unfinished.
I curled our joined fingers tight around my poor erection, sliding slowly up the length and back down. He hummed in my ear, his tone warm and amused as he took over, stroking me from root to tip, swiping his thumb over the exposed head, rubbing the sensitive underside. I whined, bucked my hips a little, and a few beads of pre-come dribbled out, searingly intense. He rubbed his fingers in the thick fluid, holding me steady with one hand while he tickled my frenulum with the other until I thought I'd pass out. When my whines turn to flat-out sobs, he stopped, soothing the spot with a rub before sliding my foreskin over the tip and back down.
"Do you want to come?" he asked, his voice husky.
"Yes." I gritted my teeth as he pumped me again.
"How much do you want to come?"
I broke down as he rolled my balls between his fingers, slipping lower to touch where we were still joined. His cock had softened rapidly. There was room for him to press a finger in alongside, and he pushed deeper, shamelessly searching for my prostate.
A litany of pleas fell from my lips, begging him to stop punishing me and tormenting me and to let me come. I think I cried a little, a few tears dampening my cheeks as he found my spot and pushed, making my dick lurch in his fist.
He slipped from me and withdrew his finger, slick with fluid, leaving me achingly empty. He spread his legs, opening mine farther, gently teasing my exposed rim.