My heart absolutely fucking plummeted. I froze on all fours, the rough tile digging into my knees, my cock wilting instantly from sheer, unadulterated panic. Rohan’s shadow fell over me, his tall frame blocking the dim hallway light.
“Dhruv, what the actual fuck?” he whispered, his voice a mixture of sleep and utter disbelief. “Are you… are you naked? And is that… a pair of briefs on your head?”
I couldn’t speak. My throat was sealed shut with humiliation. The phone on my bed, I realized with a fresh wave of terror, was still connected. Master Ansh was hearing all of this.
Then, a voice, smooth as silk and laced with absolute authority, crackled from my room. “Don’t just stand there, Rohan. If you’re so curious, come in and join the conversation.”
Rohan’s eyes, wide with confusion, darted from my pathetic, crouched form to my bedroom door. His intrigue, that same curiosity I’d seen in him when I’d vaguely hinted at my online adventures, overrode his shock. He stepped over me, his gym-toned legs moving with a natural athleticism I envied, and entered my room. I scrambled after him, my skin burning with shame.
He picked up my phone, his eyes glued to the screen where Master Ansh’s impassive, handsome face was displayed. “Who is this?” Rohan asked, his voice less certain now.
“I am the reason your friend here is learning his true purpose,” Ansh said, his voice a low purr that seemed to vibrate through the phone’s speaker. “He’s my good little puppy, aren’t you, Dhruv? You were doing so well, crawling for me. Such an obedient fucking pet.”
The degradation, the praise—it sent a conflicting jolt straight to my dick, which began to stir again against my will. I stayed on my knees on the floor, unable to meet Rohan’s gaze.
“He’s been telling me things,” Rohan said, not to me, but to Ansh. “About… control. About submission. It sounded… fascinating.”
Ansh’s sharp features broke into a wicked, knowing smile. “Is that so? A tall, fit boy like you? You look like you were built to command, not to kneel.”
“Maybe I want to know what it’s like to kneel for the right person,” Rohan countered, his confidence returning. I could see the flicker of desire in his eyes, a mirror of my own initial curiosity.
Master Ansh’s laugh was a dark, thrilling sound. “Fate is a beautiful fucking thing. Two eager young sluts delivered right to me. Dhruv, you filthy cocksucker, you’ve brought me a new toy. And Rohan… you have no idea the depths of pleasure I can show you. The ache I can put in your muscles, the fire I can light in your gut.”
He leaned closer to his camera, his intense eyes dominating the screen. “From tonight, your training begins together. In the same room. I want to see my pets side by side. Dhruv, you know the rules. Rohan, you will learn them. Strip. Both of you. Now.”
My fingers were clumsy as I fumbled with the underwear on my head and then began to undress, my body humming with a bizarre mix of terror and excitement. Rohan, after a moment’s hesitation, followed suit, his movements more sure, his body a masterpiece of defined muscle and smooth skin. Seeing him stand there, naked and vulnerable, his own cock beginning to thicken, sent a new kind of heat through me.
“Look at you two,” Ansh growled, his voice dripping with carnal appraisal. “A perfect pair of desperate whores. Dhruv, my slim, beautiful boy, always so eager to please. And Rohan… fuck… all that strength, just waiting to be broken down and used. I’m going to train you to be the best fucking sluts on the planet.”
“Yes, Master,” we said in ragged unison, the title feeling foreign on Rohan’s tongue but utterly natural on mine.
“Touch yourselves,” Ansh commanded. “Show me how you make yourselves feel good. I want to see your techniques. I want to see what makes your cocks leak.”
My hand wrapped around my shaft, a familiar sensation, but doing it next to Rohan, under his gaze and Master’s, made it feel brand new. I began to jerk off, my precum slicking the way. Rohan mimicked me, his larger hand stroking his impressive length, his breathing starting to deepen.
“Dhruv, you were born for this, weren’t you?” Ansh’s voice was a taunt. “Look at you, a natural fucking cocksleeve. But you, Rohan… you’re thinking too much. You’re stroking your dick like it’s a task. That’s not how you please me. That’s not how you beg for my attention.”
“Tell me what to do,” Rohan gasped, his hips beginning to move.
“Beg for it,” Ansh shot back. “Beg to be told what to do. Use your words, you dumb fucking jock.”
“Please, Master,” Rohan groaned, his confidence melting into pure need. “Please tell me how to stroke my cock for you. I want to do it right. I need to do it right for you.”
“That’s it,” Ansh cooed, a sound of pure domination. “Now use your spit. Get your dick nice and wet for me. I want to hear it.”
Rohan spat into his palm and the slick, filthy sound of him working his cock filled the room, mingling with my own soft moans. The air grew thick with the scent of musk and sweat and male submission.
“Now look at each other,” Ansh commanded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Look at the other slut serving me. See how pathetic and beautiful you both are.”
Our eyes met. Rohan’s were glazed with lust, his usual cool composure shattered. In that moment, we weren’t best friends; we were rivals in devotion, competing for a single glance of approval from the man on the screen.
“I’m going to train you to take everything I give you,” Ansh promised, his words painting a vivid, depraved picture in my mind. “I’m going to fuck your mouths until you choke. I’m going to use your holes until you can’t remember your own names. And when I’m finally there in person, when I’m finally driving my cock into one of your tight, begging asses, I’m going to fill you up. I’m going to give you my creampie, my filthy, perfect load, and you are going to thank me for it. You’re going to beg for it. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, Master!” I cried out, my strokes becoming frantic.
“I can’t hear you, Rohan!” Ansh barked.
“Yes, Master! Fuck yes!” Rohan yelled, his body tensing. “I want it! I want your creampie!”
“Then beg for it!” Ansh’s voice was a sharp crack of demand. “Beg for Master’s filthy creampie! Now!”
“Please, Master Ansh!” I begged, the words tearing from my throat, my orgasm building like a thunderhead. “I need it! I need your cum inside me! Please, gift me your creampie, I’ll be so good for it!”
Rohan was right there with me, his voice raw. “Fill me up, Master! I want to feel you pump your fucking load deep in my ass! I want to feel it dripping out of me! Please, I’m begging you for your creampie!”
The sound of our combined pleading, our disgusting, beautiful, heartfelt begging, was the most erotic thing I’d ever experienced. Master Ansh’s low groan of approval was our reward.
“Good boys. My perfect, filthy, begging boys. Now show me. Show me how much you want it. Come for me. Paint your stomachs with your pathetic little loads. Do it. Now.”
His command was the only thing that mattered. Our groans synchronized, our bodies seizing up as pleasure, sharp and absolute, ripped through us. My cum shot onto my abs in hot, pulsing stripes. Rohan’s release was a torrent, splashing across his perfectly defined stomach, a testament to his surrender.
We collapsed onto the floor, panting, spent, covered in the evidence of our obedience. The phone was silent for a long moment.
Then, Master Ansh’s voice came through, soft with possessive pride. “Look at that. Two perfect little messes. Clean each other up. Use your tongues. I want to watch my pets lick my property off each other’s skin.”
My eyes widened. I looked at Rohan. He looked back at me, a new hunger in his exhausted eyes. The order was so degrading, so intimate, so fucking hot.
I leaned forward first, my heart hammering against my ribs, and slowly, tentatively, ran my tongue through the warm, salty spend on Rohan’s stomach. He shuddered beneath me, a low moan escaping his lips.
“Your turn, Rohan,” Master’s voice urged softly from the phone. “Taste your rival. Taste my good boy.”
