Elf Master

Concordium Chapter 41

Elf Master Chapter 8

1st Sunday After School Begins

Kyle

Every morning when I was home… I mean, at my master’s home… I awoke the same way. Master smacked my ass and said, "Time to get up, Slave."

And almost every morning I crawled over and knelt in front of him and sucked his cock. It had become a daily ritual, and it felt comfortable to me even though I couldn't claim to love it. My master was so alien. Even his cock seemed alien. It was too long, and too thin. It moved almost like a snake, and I was sure that it could stretch even longer and bend around corners. He liked me to use strength and force that would cause agony in a human. He even enjoyed feeling my teeth on his cock.

Now that I was allowed to drink water instead of piss, I was grateful for my morning drink, and I was fast to mix my breakfast smoothie. Master kept my calories so low that I was burning fat at a fast rate, but I was always hungry. When I swallowed it, the dull ache in my stomach started to subside.

Then I was off for my morning exercise. Master had agreed to let me use the campus fitness trail instead of working out in the room. I guessed that he trusted me now not to slack off. He must have realized that his goal of getting me into shape had become my goal as well.

I was doing pull ups at the third station when I was joined by Simon Carter. He looked as sexy as he usually did in his simple knit shorts and tee shirt, with his mostly smooth brown legs and arms visible and his luscious full lips and tight curly black hair. He jogged in place for a moment watching me.

"Do you want to join me, Sir?" I asked, scooting over to make room.

He chuckled and said, "I've never been able to do a pull up. Not enough upper body strength."

"You could build it, Sir," I said with a nod. "I've done it twice and let it go in the past."

He jumped up next to me and started straining to lift himself. To be fair, pull ups aren't easy. "Try a chin up instead, Sir," I suggested. "Your biceps are stronger than your triceps."

He dropped and then jumped back to the bar in a chin up position. He did a few before dropping back down. I finished my set and joined him. Then we started jogging next to one another. "Are we still on for studying this morning?" he asked.

"Can we meet earlier, Sir?" I replied. "My brother is coming into town at 11:00 a.m. and I have to meet him when he gets here."

"Can we study after the run?" he asked. "Drew will still be with his girlfriend."

I pulled out my phone and texted my master while we were jogging. He had no problem with me changing the time of my study session. I didn't think he would. Despite everything, he made my education the highest priority. We finished the trail and Simon joined me in the exercises at each station.

"Normally I just jog the trail and ignore the exercise stations," he said.

"If you want to try and build some muscle, Sir, I can help you," I said.

"We’ll try it today and see if I like it," he said, swatting my butt bro-fashion as we walked into the dorm.

I went to get my backpack and headed to Simon's room. He'd pulled his own materials out and was setting up on the bed. He'd left space for me to sit next to him, so I climbed up and settled in. My left leg was pressing against his right leg, my pale skin lying next to his brown skin. I tried to ignore the feeling of his body against mine. I'd wanted him from the first time I saw him, although I hadn't recognized it as attraction at the time. But I was trying hard not to let it show. Which was difficult because my dick was tenting my shorts just from being around him. And these shorts left nothing to the imagination.

Simon and Oliver were the only people who talked to me, who weren’t also having sex with me. I didn't want to ruin it by making our relationships sexual. I hadn’t made any real friends at college yet other than them. Looking back on it, I didn’t think I’d ever had real friends. If I’d have ever tried to talk about my feelings or anything remotely personal and important with anyone I knew back in high school, they would have laughed at me and called me gay. And then I would have beaten the shit out of them. No, my relationships with these two were too important to blow it. Or them, I half-chuckled to myself.

It was funny looking back at how traumatized I was by that word. Gay. I think somewhere deep inside me, I alway knew that’s what I was. But I was ashamed of myself and what others would think of me. That’s why I always got violent whenever anyone even hinted that I might not be 100% straight. Andy had known, for sure. In retrospect, that was the only possible explanation for the way he was always able to cut me to the core with his words.

Simon put a hand on my knee and gave me a quick, but reassuring, squeeze to let me know that it was okay that I was getting aroused. Then we began going over our notes. It was the first normal college experience I'd had since being here. He was more organized than I was, but once I saw his system, I started putting my notes in the same order. My new mental focus meant that I wouldn't forget it. I'd be rearranging my notes for all classes in this way.

"So, your brother is coming to visit?" Simon said. "Does he know that you're gay?"

"Yes, Sir," I said quietly. "He saw my videos online."

Simon put his hand back on my thigh. Concern was written all over his face. "He just found out and he's coming to see you? That doesn't sound good."

I shook my head. "No, Sir, I don't think it's going to be a pleasant visit," I admitted.

Simon said, "Look at me, Kyle."

I looked into his dark eyes, and he said, "Don't let this fucker get you down! If he can't accept you, he's not worth your time. I accept you and I like you just the way you are. Anyone who can't do that doesn't deserve to know you."

"Thank you, Sir, but I'm not a good person like you are," I said. "Of course, Eddy isn't either. It's hard to explain to someone like you. People supported you when you were young."

"Yes and no," he said. "My moms supported me, and my younger brother Marty supported me. Mom Tina's family supported me. But I never met Mom Chrissy's parents, even though she's my bio mom. Apparently, their religion wouldn't allow them to accept that she was gay. And I was bullied so badly in middle school that my moms put me in a special LGBTQIA+ high school.

"In the neighborhood I grew up in, the white kids would be nice to your face and then call you nigger behind your back. The black kids would look at your nice clothes and good grades and say you weren't black enough for them because your moms made too much money and you were selling out. I was an Oreo, black on the outside and white on the inside. I was about as lippy as you could be, so I got beat down a lot. It wasn't a bed of roses, no matter how nice my own family was."

"I didn't know any of that, Sir," I replied, feeling sorry for him for the first time. He always seemed so confident that I envied him. "I grew up pretending to be straight and pretending to be racist to fit in with my family. When I was too young to know better, I invited a black classmate to my birthday party when I was nine. My dad was polite the whole time he was there, but afterwards he beat me for bringing one of them – sorry you – into his house. And then he made me say things... things that were so horrible that I cried myself to sleep that night."

"And what did this Eddy do?" he asked.

I sighed and said, "He called me a pussy and made fun of me, Sir. He made fun of me for months after that. Of course, Andy was worse, but it was Eddie's opinion that mattered to me. He was so much older than me that he seemed more like a father. And since my dad didn’t really pay much attention to me, except to yell at me."

Simon put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Mom Chrissy told me that racists don't just hurt little black kids. They hurt their own kids just as bad. You just can't see it so easily. She taught me not to tolerate it, but to understand that most of the racists out there were hurt by parents who didn't love them enough to teach them right from wrong. I know it sounds cheesy, but she was right. The same thing goes for homophobes."

Talking to Simon made me feel better. He understood more than I thought he would. I could talk to him about anything, except for the part of me that craved the domination, that enjoyed the abuse I was forced to endure. There was a part of me that was so dirty that I couldn't share it with him. He was too good a friend. I couldn't bear it if he started looking down on me again.

We'd finished studying and had completed our close reading of the history text. Simon pointed out to me some parts that were incomplete because they left out the contributions of black Americans. We were still sitting there leaning against one another when Drew came into the room. He scowled a little when he saw me there, but he didn't say anything to me.

He ignored me completely, like I wasn't even there. He looked at Simon and said, "We have a gather at noon at the Wolf House. Everyone will be there."

He went into the bathroom with his toiletry bag and a towel. I didn't know Drew but the obvious disregard he held for me hurt a little. I thought that he'd be willing to forgive me after what his pack had done last week. I guessed that I would always be nothing more than a rapist in his eyes.

I watched the door close then closed my laptop, saying, "I think he still doesn't like me," I said.

"Well, I like you," he said, giving me a bro-hug. "And that's what counts."

**********

I went back to Master's room, put the laptop down on the desk and set it up to go over my notes for other classes. I began reorganizing my notes for each class so that they would be easier to study. Like always, I was sitting on the large dildo attached to my chair. It didn't distract me too much anymore; I was used to riding a dildo while I studied. I'd even come to enjoy it, sort of, in an almost shamefully kinky way. I'd managed to reorganize all my notes for my math class by the time Master returned.

He looked over my shoulder at my screen. "Good, you're between classes in your work," he said. "We need to get you dressed and ready to meet your brother Eddie."

I pulled myself off the long thick dildo and cleaned it with my tongue, then I put on the clothes he left out for me, a pink jock with a pouch small enough to barely contain my cock, tight black booty shorts and a white muscle shirt. I slipped on the black flips he'd pulled out. In the mirror I noticed that the straps to the jock showed whenever I bent forward even the slightest amount.

"I'll be invisible, so I can watch you and your brother," he said. "I need you to do whatever he says. I don't trust him, and I don't like him, but I won't be able to step in until he crosses a line that I can act on. But when he does, he's mine."

"What are you going to do to him, Master?" I asked. I wasn't sure how concerned I should be about it. Eddie was threatening me, but he was still my brother. I'd loved him all my life and I didn't really want to see him get hurt."

"If he harms you, or if he crosses a line," Master said, "I will make him pay for his transgression."

"Master," I pleaded, "I beg you not to kill my brother. He's an asshole, but he's still my brother."

"I have no intention of killing him," Master replied, "but I will make him pay. That is non-negotiable."

I drove Master to a motel at the edge of town, next door to an IHOP. We rented a room and then Master texted Eddie on my phone. He'd been communicating with him off and on all weekend and had arranged a torrid sexual encounter. Apparently, I promised to worship him abjectly until he left. I would be his total slave in every way. The things Eddie had said he was going to do to me made me reconsider the favor I'd begged from Master.

At 10:30 I met Eddie at the IHOP. Master said that I could eat with Eddie to allay his suspicions, but that I needed to keep it reasonable. I had no intention of overeating. I was happy with the progress I was making on my weight loss program, and I didn't want to go back to my old ways. I waited outside sitting on a bench until he arrived.

He pulled up only a few minutes late in his SUV, wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt. He'd decided not to dress up for our meeting. He was the same height I was, but he'd put on a little weight since last I saw him. He wasn't as muscular as I was, but he probably weighed just the same. His gut had become much more noticeable over the last few months. He was sneering and shaking his head as he walked toward me.

"Good morning, faggot," he said. "Let's go get some breakfast – your treat – then we're going to your room and you're going to make me happy enough not to tell Dad all about your disgusting lifestyle for now. We'll meet up again to extend the deal. So long as you keep me happy, I'll think about keeping your secret."

"What guarantees do I have, Sir, that you'll keep your end of the bargain?" I asked.

He gave me a ball slap with the back of his hand that almost knocked me over. Then he replied. "There ain't no guarantee, faggot! You're going to have to work hard to please me just in the hopes that I won't spill the beans."

We went in and got a table. He ordered country fried steak and eggs and a side order of bacon, with an orange juice and coffee. It must have been about 2000 calories. No wonder he was putting on weight. But IHOP was like any other restaurant. If you watched what you ordered, you could eat a healthy meal there. I had two over easy eggs, multigrain grain toast, fresh fruit and four strips of turkey bacon for 510 calories. I had black coffee to go with it. He sneered at my food choices, just like he sneered at my clothes.

"Damn it boy! You're even eating like a faggot these days," he sneered. "What the fuck happened to you. You always were half faggot, but I thought we'd beaten that out of you when you were back in middle school."

My brothers had always called me a faggot when I was growing up. They wouldn't leave me alone for a minute with any of my friends. When I told them I wasn't gay, Andy would slap me around until I said that I was faggot, then he'd make me promise to stop being one. Did they see something in me, even then? But Andy had stopped when I became a freshman. He started spending all his time with his college buddy Ernie Powell and was seldom at home. They shared an apartment in Lexington where they studied at University of Kentucky. Andy had earned his undergraduate business degree and was working on his MBA. Ernie was studying law. Eddie was doing most of the managerial work for the businesses, but everyone suspected Andy would get the top spot when Dad retired.

I paid for breakfast, of course, and then we headed back to the motel room. Once inside, Eddie wasted no time. I didn't even see it coming. He gave me a backhand slap that sent me sprawling onto the bed. "Don't think I'm going to go easy on you just because you're my brother," he said. "You're a faggot bitch and I'm going to treat you like one. This is how I treat faggots, so don't think you're special. You're going to get my cock out. You're going to suck it and then I'm going to fuck you, but I'm still going to beat the shit out of you.

"When Andy was little, I had to beat this shit out of him as well, when I caught him dancing around like a faggot bitch in his underwear, listening to nigger music. Difference between you and him is that he straightened up before middle school, but you couldn't learn. Despite everything, you still turned out the be what we always knew you were – a faggot bitch."

Suddenly it was like I was a child again. And I remembered that this wasn't the first time he'd called me a faggot bitch. I was nine years old, and Eddie was twenty-one. He still lived at home at that time and was the junior sales manager at Pappy Mason's Automobile's. My sister Kayla was nineteen and she'd just finished showering. I was getting ready to take my own shower when I noticed a long pink cylinder sitting on the shelf. I didn't know what it was, so I started playing with it. I must have done something because it started to vibrate. I held it against my cheek and started laughing. Eddie must have been drawn to my laughter because he looked in and saw me.

He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into his bedroom and threw me on the bed. Why I couldn't remember this incident before, I didn't know, but he slapped my face hard and called me a faggot bitch. It was coming back to me now that he was doing the same thing again. My nine-year-old self wasn't completely sure what he meant. I just knew that it was something bad, something you called someone who wasn't normal. I remembered two years earlier when Andrew had tricked me into saying that I was a faggot, and Eddie had beaten me for saying it.

Eddie threw the vibrating pink cylinder down onto the bed and grabbed me by my collar and smacked my face again. He pulled my pants and my underwear down and pulled me over his lap on the bed and he spanked me until I was bawling out loud. He kept asking me if I was a faggot. I swore that I wasn't, but he kept hitting me. Then he grabbed the pink cylinder and poked my butt with it repeatedly. I was screaming because it hurt so bad. Then he stopped poking me because it had slid inside me. He left it there and threw me on my back on the bed. Then he started slapping my face, telling me that no brother of his was going to be a faggot.

I swore that I would never be one. He pulled the thing out of me and then dragged me naked onto his lap. His breath smelled like whisky, and he was pulling me down against him. I remembered thinking that he must have had something in his pocket because it was poking into my butt while he was bouncing me on his lap and telling me that the spanking was for my own good. That he was taking care of me because he was my brother, and it was his job. Dad was too busy to make sure I grew up right like he had with him, so he was going to take care of it. Then he held me tight against his lap and breathed heavily, almost grunting. His breath was making me dizzy.

He told me that the pink thing was a fake dick, and that girls and little faggots used them. I was crying and he told me to man up or he'd beat my ass again. Then he gave me some whisky. I didn't want to drink it, but he'd scared me so much I couldn't argue with him. He made me drink the fiery stuff until I couldn't stand up straight. I couldn't walk, so he carried me and put me to bed. He said that the drink was straight bourbon and that it would help me grow up to be a man.

How the hell had I forgotten that? I was thinking back on it now, as an adult. I was nine. He'd gotten me intoxicated and then molested me with my sister's vibrator. I got sick thinking about how he'd beaten on me until he got excited and then ground his dick against my butt until he came in his pants. Was that where I got the idea to beat on gay guys until I came? And he'd given me alcohol so I'd be drunk and wouldn't remember clearly what had happened. My butt was sore for days after that, inside and out.

I snapped out of my memory to feel Eddie pulling my shorts off, exposing my hairless cock. "You are more of a faggot than I thought you were. Turn over, bitch!" he yelled at me.

I was compelled by the chain to follow his commands, so I rolled over. Eddie pulled out his belt and began hitting my ass with it, using all his strength. "I'm going to heat your fag pussy up until it's red hot, and then I'm going to fuck it," he snarled.

After a few strokes, my ass was on fire, but he didn't stop. He kept on beating me. He hit my back and my legs as well as my ass. It felt like I was bleeding, and he didn't stop. Where was Master? Why didn’t he stop this?

When he'd finally satisfied his sadism, he stopped beating me, but he put his belt around my neck and started pulling on it. At the same time, he plunged his massive cock into my ass. If I hadn't already lubed myself, he would have ripped me apart. It didn't take him long to cum because he'd become so aroused by beating on me. I could barely breathe, but I remembered the raven earring. I grasped it with one hand and croaked between sobs, "Master, where are you? He's killing me!"

Then I heard Master's voice whispering in my ear, "I can't reach you. Something is blocking the door and the window. You may defend yourself, and then you must open the door. See if there is anything iron on the threshold."

Master's voice had freed me from my defenselessness. I reached back and grabbed the belt to keep him from choking me more. Then I rolled over and kicked him in his fat gut, sending him flying. I jumped off the bed and looked at the exit. Someone had placed an iron horseshoe on the inside of the door. I pulled it off and opened the door. Eddie had jumped up and grabbed the belt again, pulling me backwards and cutting off my air supply.

And that's when Master came through the door. I'd never seen him so angry. His purple eyes were almost glowing, and he wasn't bothering to hide his inhuman appearance. His pointed ears were long, standing an inch above the top of his head. His white hair was standing stiff like hackles atop his head. I could see his pointed feline teeth in his snarl and his fingernails were curved like talons. The door slammed shut behind him.

Eddie turned to look at him and his jaw dropped. He didn't have a chance to react before Master had struck him with his talons, ripping his shirt and leaving bloody marks. Outside, peering through the window, I could see leering goblin faces, one of which sat beneath a red cap that was wet and deep red. Eddie didn't seem to see them, but they looked like they were waiting for him to come out and play.

Eddie lunged toward Nico, but Master grabbed the meaty forearm and sank his talons into it. His other hand shot out and grabbed my brother by the balls, his talons on that hand leaving bloody pin pricks. "I will castrate you if you move a muscle," Master snarled.

I was pulling the belt from around my neck and gasping for air. I didn't know what master was going to do with Eddie and at this point I didn't care. I grabbed my shorts and put them back on.

"Kyle is my property, and he is also under my protection as one of my sodales," Master whispered. "From the moment you began to beat him with the belt, your life was forfeit. Luckily for you, your brother is a better human being than you are. I've promised him that I won't kill you, but you owe him a favor."

Master got into Eddie's face and snarled, "Say it, fat man. Say that you owe a favor to Kyle."

"I don't owe that faggot bitch anything," he snarled back.

I had to hand it to Eddie, he was either very brave, or very stupid. Master let go of his testicles and grabbed Eddie's pinky finger and snapped it breaking the bone and leaving it hanging at an odd angle.

"I am losing patience," my master said calmly. "Your foolish bravado will not earn you a reprieve. If you don't acknowledge the truth, I will make you."

There was a horrible crunching noise from outside. Master dragged my brother to the window and showed him the small man with the metal boots and the wicked red cap who was standing on his SUV and kicking out the windows.

"I don't normally resort to property damage, but I need you to understand what you're dealing with," he said. "Now you see him; now you don't."

The little man disappeared, but the hood of the SUV caved in as if from a mighty kick. Standing next to Eddie were two small figures who looked like children, with angelic faces, but each was holding a silver knife that looked like a razor. The closet door slid open, and something was in there, standing in the shadows where it couldn't be seen clearly. Despite not being completely visible, the sense of horror radiating from it made my heart race.

"I've been attacked recently in my own dorm, and my family has decided that I need protection. My loyal vassals can be around you at any time, and no one will see them unless they choose to let you," he said.

Two tiny little people with wings, one male and one female, no more than six inches in height appeared. Their tiny little bows pointed three-inch arrows directly at Eddie's eyes. Then they vanished as quickly and as completely as they'd appeared.

"Fine!" Eddie yelled. "I owe Kyle a favor."

"Good," Master said with a smile. "Do you accept responsibility for the injuries suffered by my slave?"

"Yes, I do," Eddie said.

With a wave of master's hand, all my injuries disappeared, and reappeared on Eddie. I'd seen this trick before. Apparently, if someone took responsibility for the wounds, Master could heal me by moving the wounds to them. I didn't understand it, but it was the second time I'd benefited from the trick.

Master looked at me and said, "You've had a rough morning. Take the iron, and the iron in the windows and drive back to the dorm. You should rest before your exercise session with Philip this afternoon. Nap if you can. I'll be back later to talk to you about all of this."

I couldn't argue. I took the horseshoe and then I pulled out two metal hangers someone had straightened and then placed over the window. I noticed that Master had clawed up the door to the motel room trying to get inside while Eddie was torturing me. I got in my truck and drove back to campus. I probably did need a nap. I had a lot to sort out mentally.

 

Domenic

Once Kyle was gone, I looked at his brother and forced my temper to die down. I had him where I needed him now. The look on his face was priceless. It was clear that he didn't know what I was, but he knew he was in over his head. He was sweating fear and the laws of the magical community allowed me to dispose of him as I wished. He didn't know that, but he knew that he was in more trouble than he'd ever faced in his life.

"Since Kyle is my property, I will redeem your favor on his behalf," I said. "When something eventually happens to your father, you will give your share of the inheritance to Kyle."

"I'm not going to do that," he said, shaking his head.

I had guessed that greed would outweigh any other consideration for this man. That would be his downfall. Since I'd promised Kyle I wouldn't kill this creature, I would just destroy him for life. I liked Kyle, and he was one of my sodales whom I had sworn to protect. I didn't like his brother at all, so there was nothing constraining me. He had no idea what a family of elves and their fey servants could do with him.

"You have damaged my property," I said. "And you have threatened to harm someone under my protection. By faerie law I declare you to be my legitimate target. I have promised not to kill you, so I will lay this curse upon you instead. Whenever you are asked a question, you will immediately answer it truthfully and completely. Whenever you try to speak of the magical world, your words will come out as a string of profanity that obscures what you were going to say."

He gave me a look of disbelief, like he was sure that he wouldn't have to do it, so I asked him, "Did you rape you brother Kyle?"

"Not this time, no," he said. "I blackmailed him into having sex with me. But I did rape him twice at home; there was the time I put my cock in his mouth when he was only fourteen and passed out after a party, and the time I raped him with a vibrator when he was nine."

The look on his face was precious. "I'll be sure to send some invisible sprites to whisper embarrassing questions to you whenever you're around other people," I said. "Your father will probably disinherit you anyway when he finds out what you've done, won't he?"

Eddie was trying not to speak, but he couldn't stop himself. "He probably will even though he used to do the same thing to me when I was a child."

"Now we're getting somewhere," I said. "I will bring down your entire family. Since Kyle will be excluded from his rightful inheritance, I'll make sure there's none for any of you. You will lose every penny, and everyone will know who and what you are. I will destroy you utterly so that not a single member of your family will ever be able to show their face in public again. Kyle gets your inheritance or there is no inheritance for anyone."

Eddie broke down. "I promise to give Kyle my share of the inheritance when my father dies," he said. "Please don't destroy us all."

I could see the wheels inside his head turning. He was already trying to figure a way out of his dilemma. He was clever, but not clever enough. And he wasn't smart like Kyle. Kyle would find a way out of his enslavement, even if it meant getting friends to help him do it. I might have to be purposefully blind, but he'd do it. Eddie would never be able to do it.

I touched his forehead and said, "I'm putting my mark upon you. It will hold the curse at bay unless your family finds out about Kyle being gay. If they find out from someone other than you, you can hold off the curse off only if you can convince your father that he deserves his full share of the inheritance. You will have three days to accomplish this task."

"Thank you," he said as he started gathering his things. "If Kyle gets his share of the inheritance, can I claim mine so that my family doesn't starve, my wife and my three kids?"

"Yes," I replied, "if you're smarter than I think you are, and you manage to arrange for Kyle to get his inheritance, I will allow you to keep yours."

He started to go, but I added, "Don't forget that you will still utter nothing more than a string of the vilest profanities if you try to speak of the magical world, and your fingers will break if you try to write about it."

He'd tried to resist my curse, but his will was as weak and feeble as his personality. He was lucky. If he'd managed to resist me, I would have found another way to destroy him. I left him there in the parking lot and walked back to campus with my new protectors. We were all invisible and we stayed on the sidewalks. If a hunter came after me now, they would get what they deserved. It was doubtful that they knew about my retainers, the red cap, the bow wielding sprites, the razor children, and the boggart. Most humans had the wrong idea about fae. They thought we were cute. Somehow, they'd forgotten how their ancestors used to tremble in the night, hanging iron over the doors and windows to keep us at bay. These hunters were going to remember the hard way.

 

Kyle

I sat naked on my bed and stared into the distance at nothing. I was in shock at what had happened. I still wasn't sure what Eddie had intended to do to me. For a moment I'd thought he was going to kill me. And why had he been so angry and full of hate. None of it made sense to me. All my life I'd tried to make him like me and approve of me. Eddie had been more father to me than brother. Dad had always ignored me. When I was a child, he hadn't even wanted to look at me. It was my sister Kayla who took care of me when the babysitter wasn't there and my brother Eddie who disciplined me when I misbehaved. When I got older, Dad and I had developed a relationship of sorts, but it was cold and distant. It had always been Eddie who'd taken responsibility for me. He was the one who'd given me my truck when I graduated high school.

And what was that memory that had suddenly come back to me? I must have blacked it out because of the alcohol or because of the sense of betrayal I felt even now. I'd been nine years old, and he'd been twenty-one. Over the years, he'd beaten me a lot, usually to whip the faggot out of me. At the time I'd thought that he was just trying to toughen me up, to make me a man, but now I wasn't so sure. Had he always known somehow?

I cried a lot as a child, usually from Andy's constant teasing. He was five years older than me, but he liked to make me cry. He used to tell his friends that I was a faggot, that I had cock-sucking lips, that I walked like a faggot, that I only played football so I could see the other guys' dicks. Was he just being an asshole, or had he also somehow known that I was gay?

I wanted to talk to Simon, but he'd made a big deal out of this thing he had to do with the werewolves out at the Wolf House. I got the impression that it wasn't something he could miss, even if he wanted to. If I were allowed to leave the room, I would have tried to talk to Terrence, or even to Ezekiel, although Master would probably have gotten angry at that thought. He hated Ezekiel.

I lay down on my side and curled around my pillow, silent tears streaming down my cheeks. I didn't know how long I'd laid there before I fell asleep.

 

Buckwalder

I watched the young man cry himself to sleep. He'd been so sad that it pained me to see it. He was big and strong as an ox, but he was still young, and he was still a boy beneath that man’s body. He was a boy who was surrounded by an aura of loneliness and pain. He seemed bad on the outside, but I could tell that he was really a sweet boy inside. I knew that My Lord of the Elms had a purpose in his training methods, and he’d assured me that it would benefit Kyle in the end. And My Lord of the Elms never lied, so he must at least believe it to be true.

I would have brought Kyle cookies and milk, but the master didn't allow it. Instead, I went out into the flower bed in front of the dorm and gathered some flowers. I bound them in a little bouquet tied with a silk ribbon. Then I placed them in the crook of the boy-man's arms. Warming a washcloth with clean water, I gently cleaned the dried tears from his face and the semen oozing from his butt.

Kyle needed rest more than anything, so I put my hand on his head and used the charm of deep slumber to give him a calm and soothing rest, untroubled by dreams or memories.

I rubbed the semen I cleaned from Kyle’s bottom between my fingers to get a feel for the magical aura of the man who’d left it. My Lord of the Elms would punish this man, but he would let him go once he’d learned his lesson. That wasn’t my way. I sealed the door behind a ward that none but the fae could bypass, then stepped between this place in the dorms and the room where the man sat, stewing in anger and trembling with fright. He was alone, which suited me very well.

Reaching out one finger, I touched the man on the forehead, leaving a mark that only fae could see. My Lord of the Elms had his way of punishing the man, but we hobs and petty fae had our own. Now that he bore the mark of retribution on his brow, the man would be plagued by mischievous fae. He would find moments of peace and joy to be rare and fleeting. Many of my kind loved to torment mundanes, especially the haughty and cruel among them. Now they would know that he was one of them. Karpoi would ensure that food became spoiled and rancid when it touched his lips. Clurichauns would spoil his ale and beer in similar fashion, and impish pixies would ensure that small mishaps would pursue him until I removed the mark, if I ever did.

 

Kyle

When I awoke, my master still hadn't returned, or maybe he'd come back and left again while I was asleep. I was surprised that I’d been able to rest considering what had happened this morning, but I felt completely refreshed and reinvigorated.

Someone had placed a pretty bundle of pinkish purple flowers next to him. No one had ever given me flowers before, and I thought they were nice. I looked around for something to put them in and couldn't find anything. I felt my eyes grow warm again at the thought of leaving them lying around like trash after someone had taken the time to gather them. But then I felt a hand on my knee and looked down to see Buckwalder holding a simple clay vase.

"Thank you, Buckwalder," I said. "That's just what I needed. You're the most helpful fairy I've ever met."

The small old man blushed. I filled the vase with water, put the flowers in it and sat them on top of the chest containing my clothes. I looked at my phone. I'd slept through lunch, and it was almost time to go to the gym to meet Philip. I made a smoothie and drank it down quickly, then I put on the same outfit I'd been wearing earlier, but I had to wear shoes instead of flips in the gym. I texted Philip to make sure we were still going to work out, then went down to my truck so I could drive over to the rec center and meet up with him.

The rec center had a nice weight room with a lot of machines and some free weights. Philip was waiting in the lobby, not looking bad with his 180 pounds of muscle on a six-foot frame. His mid-length brown hair was held back with a sweatband. He was wearing gray weight training shorts and a white t-shirt. Weight training shorts are much shorter than most athletic shorts, but still weren't as short as mine. And he still had hair on his legs.

He obviously wasn't in the closet because he walked over and ran a hand over my muscular thigh. "Shaving has really brought out the definition in your legs," he said. Then he leaned close and whispered, "Did you shave everything below the neck?"

"It was waxed, Sir," I said. "But you'll see for yourself later."

Then we went into the locker room to stow our stuff. Philip knew more about weight training than I did. He had volunteered to act as my personal trainer. The deal had been made with my master when I was out of the room, but I didn't object. He pulled me over in front of the mirrors and pointed out the major muscle groups we'd be working on, running his hands over them as he did. He'd mentioned exercises to build my pecs, my lats, my biceps, triceps, delts, trapezius and more that I was having trouble remembering.

"And we're going to work on tightening this," he said, running his hand over my abdominal muscles under my shirt.

"And this," he said, running his hands across my butt. "Your butt is naturally fine, but there are exercises to make it bigger, meatier, and firmer."

"Yes, Sir," I said again, this time a little breathless because my erect cock was testing the strength of my jock.

He slapped my butt and laughed, "We'll take care of that later."

"I can't... you know... I can't exercise that muscle; Master's orders," I reminded him.

Philip smiled and replied, "There are many ways to take care of that erection without rubbing it or stroking it."

I had to slip my hands inside my shorts to adjust myself properly before we went to the weights. I spotted for Philip while he lifted free weights, but he told me that he would prefer to use the machines for my training because they worked isolated muscle groups better than free weights – at least better than free weights in the hands of an amateur without proper form.

After we finished his session, he started my training. He'd entered an app on his phone to track my progress, so we weighed in on the scale that measured BMI and then he created a program for me to follow on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. He was a harsh taskmaster, but he seemed to know what he was doing. There was no doubt that I was going to be a little sore in the lesser used muscles and especially in the abdominals. He'd had a couple of different exercises that he said would strengthen and tighten the belly.

I knew that my very small and very tight shorts were giving folks a glimpse of my jock as I worked out and I knew that my butt was visible surrounded by the straps whenever I bent or worked from a reclined position, but I didn't care. And some of the guys (and a few of the girls) seemed to appreciate it. Since coming out, I enjoyed the attention.

In the locker room, there was a skinny kid who had his cell phone out and was pretending to text, but I could tell he was taking video of Philip and me while we were undressing. Philip leaned in and whispered, "Sorry, but I have instructions from your master."

He looked at the kid and said, "Come on over here."

The boy seemed nervous, but he stepped toward us cautiously. Philip said, "My name is Philip and this jock boy next to me is Kyle. I noticed you looking at Kyle's body. Do you like it?"

The nervous young man swallowed hard and nodded his head. Philip put a friendly arm on his shoulder and said, "You can't suck his cock and he's not going to fuck you because he's a jock bitch, but if you want, he will suck your cock, or you can fuck him."

"Seriously?" the boy asked.

"Seriously," Philip replied. "His master told me to have him suck the cock of anyone who seemed interested during the hour we’re here, before we go home. But you must let me get it on video."

The boy was nodding his head vigorously at that point. "Yes. I would love to get my cock sucked," he said.

I was more than a little pissed off at my master. He knew what I'd been through today, and he was whoring me out anyway. Most of the time, it didn't bother me. I liked sucking cock, but today I already felt cheap. I sat on the bench and pulled down the guy's shorts. His penis was surprisingly big for a scrawny guy who stood only five foot eight. It was six inches, but I'd expected less. He smelled of sweat, but not old sweat. My body didn't care that I wasn't in the mood for sex with a stranger. One whiff of ball sweat and my cock started to rise.

I gently held his balls with one hand and wrapped the other around his waist. I kissed his stiffening cock and savored the salty taste of sweat on my lips. He was trembling like a virgin. "Have you done this before, Sir?" I asked him.

"No," he said. "I'm a... a virgin," he said. He was blushing and it looked cute on him even though he was skinny and a little funny looking, with big ears and a small chin.

"Hey, it's alright, Sir," I said. "We were all virgins once. Are you sure you want to do this... um…?"

"Todd," he said. "My name's Todd. Do you want to do it?"

"I do, Sir," I said. The funny thing was that I did. He was little and scrawny and not all that attractive, but I had a chance to give him something that he wanted, something he'd never had before.

His face broke into a toothy grin and he said, "Then I do too. I really do."

I took a deep breath and inhaled his scent. "You smell good," I said. I saw the doubtful look on his face, and I said, "Really. I'm not kidding, Sir. You're clean, but I can smell your scent right here." And I ran my nose along the groin where the pelvis met his thighs.

He was still smiling at me, so I batted my lashes and kissed the head of his cock. Then I licked it gently. He was circumcised, so the head of his dick was a little dry. I pulled it into my mouth and sucked hard enough to draw my cheeks in. He gasped and grabbed my head. There was no way this virgin boy was going to last long. Precum poured in a steady stream into my mouth. It was sweet.

I fondled his balls gently and swallowed him deep into my mouth. He groaned and thrust forward as far as he could. I slid one hand down to cup his butt. There wasn't much to cup; it was flat and bony. I let my index finger run between his cheeks and rub his hole. That set him off. His hips buckled and he shot into my mouth. I rubbed his hole and sucked his cock until he had nothing else to give me.

"That was amazing!" Todd cried. "Amazing. You're amazing. Your mouth is amazing."

He threw his arms around my neck and kissed me. I think I surprised him when I opened my lips and slipped my tongue in his mouth. When we broke apart, I said, "You tasted good."

I patted his bony butt and sent him on his way. Philip sat down next to me and put his arms around me. Then he started kissing me and running his hand along my jawline.

"You are amazing," he whispered. "You were so nice to that guy. I want you now more than I did before. I don't want to shower first. I don't want anyone else looking at you right now because they'll only see the sexy on the outside, not the even sexier part on the inside. Let's put our sweaty, nasty clothes back on and go to my apartment to shower. I have permission from your master to take you out to dinner at a nice place tonight."

So, we drove back to Philip's apartment on the edge of town. The place was kind of a mess. As soon as we got there, I pulled off my clothes and put them on top of my bag. Philip looked at me strangely then kissed me again. "Are you eager or what?" he asked.

"Master told me that I was to treat your apartment like his room," I said. "I need to be naked unless ordered to wear clothes, Sir."

He held me again. He was only two inches shorter than me, but less muscular in build, although what he had was firm. "I have something else to talk to you about," he said. "Let's sit on the couch."

While we were sitting Philip put his hand on my knee, but he wasn't looking at me. "I told Nico that I wanted to date you," he said. "And he agreed, but under certain conditions. He said he wants me to teach you the softer side of gay sex, which is fine because that's all I wanted in the first place. But he also told me that I must teach you how to take care of a man's house because you won't learn it at your dorm. He said he has someone else to do it there."

"Is that why your apartment is so dirty, Sir?" I asked, looking around at the mess.

Philip nodded. "I have to have you clean my house, like a naked maid," he said. "I only agreed to it because I wanted to date you. Given my choice, I wouldn't be ordering you to do anything like cleaning up my mess or sucking cocks in the gym. All I want is to go out on dates with you and then come back and have sweaty sex, but there's a price we both must pay."

I sat there thinking and staring into space. Philip said, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I need to know something, Sir," I said. "I need to know whether you want me to go or to start cleaning your apartment? If there's a price to pay, I'll pay it."

He put an arm around my shoulders and said, "I can live with Nico's conditions if you can. I just want you to know that all those things are him, not me. I'd like to ignore the mess, take a sexy shower with you, go out to dinner, and then come back here and fuck your brains out."

Then he kissed me and rubbed my upper thigh. "But given my options, I want you to clean my apartment, naked, while I watch your sexy ass, then I want to take a sexy shower with you, go out to dinner, and then come back here and fuck your brains out."

I stood up and smiled at him. "Show me the cleaning supplies, Sir," I said. "And expect me to do a shitty job. We had a maid at home, so I have no idea how to clean an apartment."

Philip began directing my efforts as I cleaned the whole apartment. I wasn't joking about never cleaning anything before, but it wasn't hard. I just needed Philip to tell me what to do. And I was excited the entire time. Working naked while I was supervised by a fully clothed man turned me on more than it should have. Having the clothed man give me orders and then following them without question or hesitation was even more exciting. I didn't understand this part of me, but it was in control, and I was more than willing to let it run the show for now.

Once I was done, Philip grabbed my arm and said, "Now it's sexy shower time."

We got into the shower and Philip started soaping me up, using his hands instead of a washcloth. "When I first felt your shaved chest today, I couldn't think of anything but what this would feel like," he said, "just this. Just my hand sliding along your flesh."

My skin felt like his hand was bringing it to life. I put some soap on my own hand and started rubbing his hairy chest. I didn't know which felt better, his rough hand rubbing my smooth chest or my eager hand rubbing his hairy chest. Either way, it felt fine, more than fine; it felt amazing. Philip knew how to use his hands. He touched me in ways I'd never been touched before. Only David had come this close.

When Philip's fingers slid inside me, they found that magic spot immediately and my cock started pouring precum and I started moaning. "Let me take care of you," he said. "Don't even worry about me. I'm making this night just about you. I can't touch your beautiful cock, but I'm going to show this sexy ass such a good time that your cock enjoys it too, every fucking time."

"It's not going to be long," I groaned. "Your fingers are like magic. You're like a fucking sex wizard."

Philip ran his finger along my prostate in a swaying pattern, tapping it gently. My cock started oozing cum rather than precum, and I collapsed against him. He kissed my neck and rubbed my stomach as he continued to press my prostate gently until it stopped feeling good. And Philip was so tuned to my body's signals that he knew when the feeling changed, and he pulled out.

I started to kneel in front of him, but he put his hands under my arms and held me up. "I can wait," he said. "This night is about you. Let me take care of you, until I send you home to your master. I don't think anyone ever takes care of you, and it's what I want tonight."

I felt like crying again, but I pulled him close to me and kissed him again. He was right. Even David, who'd been the first man to give me his ass, hadn't really put my wants first. Philip seemed to care about me, not just what he could get from me. I couldn't help wondering if this is what sex with Simon would feel like, but I quashed that thought.

We got dressed. I had a black jock and a pair of silky white shorts that were thin enough to show through the pants. Not only that, but the wide waistband of the jock also showed above the low cut shorts. In white stitching, it read Kyle Mason, Owned Jock Boy. My baby blue shirt came down just above my navel. It was also silk and, like the pants, clung to my body and revealed every muscle group. I wore the blue flips that were in my bag.

Philip wore relaxed fit jeans and a tight red t-shirt that said Red Moon Rising against the background of an alpine lake and a full moon. I had no idea what it meant, but I was intrigued. He was wearing boots as well.

I had to drive because Philip didn't have a car. He'd chosen a small restaurant at the edge of town that was owned by a local family. It served traditional American food, along with a few more modern selections. The place looked very rustic, and it had blue and white checked tablecloths. The woman who ran the place was plump with graying hair which she wore teased atop her head. She smiled at us when we came in and said, "Welcome to Newbury's Country Kitchen, boys."

Then she put her hand on my face and said, "He is a very good-looking boy, Philip. Maybe you should have put him in something a little less revealing, though. As much as I appreciate the sight myself, I'm going to have to put you in the back booth, so you don't scare the less enlightened customers."

She led us back to the corner booth and we both sat on the same side of the table. We looked over the menu together. Everything looked good, but very fattening. Philip pointed at the menu and said, “I asked earlier because you're dieting. The meatloaf isn't too high in calories, and neither is the roasted turkey breast or the pan-fried trout. I decided on the turkey breast because I assumed it was the lowest in calories.” Philip had the fried chicken. I chose the buttered new potatoes and turnip greens. Philip had the mashed potatoes and glazed carrots.

Our server was a friendly girl who bore a passing resemblance to the owner. Her name was Molly, and she was very attentive. It was the best date I'd ever been on. It was my only real date in fact. We ate dinner and Philip kept touching me, not sexually, but romantically. I drank unsweetened iced tea with lemon and Philip had a coke. After dinner, I decided against dessert, but Philip ordered a raspberry crumble with homemade vanilla ice-cream. I let him feed me a couple of bites from his spoon.

It was the best experience of my life, better than all the sex I'd been having, even better than sitting and chatting with Simon or Oliver. Every date I'd ever been on before was just me taking a girl out so we could have sex that would be unsatisfactory for both of us. This was different. It was fun. It was me and another guy just enjoying one another's company. I didn't even care if we had sex afterwards. I wanted to do it, of course, but I would have enjoyed it anyway.

Philip paid for dinner and walked me out with his hand in the small of my back. He didn't seem to care that some of the locals were giving us a disapproving look. Fuck the haters, I thought, and I pulled him close to me and went outside.

He kissed me just outside the front door. "You're sexy," he said. "Do you even know how sexy you are?"

He kissed me all the way out to the truck and pushed me against the door. "When you walk, you move your ass in a way that says come and get it," he said. "I could watch you walk all day long."

He kissed me again and then said, "Let's get home so I can show you how a man worships a sexy ass."

We wasted no time getting back to Philip's apartment and stripping my clothes off. He helped me get undressed, kissing my bare flesh as he exposed it. "I can't carry you into the bedroom. You are far too much of a hunk for that.”

On a whim, I swept him up into my arms and carried him into the bedroom. He was laughing as I tossed him gently onto the bed and crawled in next to him.

He said, “Damn you’re strong. Or maybe you’re just more determined than I am.”

He quickly leapt out of bed and stripped off his clothes. Then he jumped back in beside me. We started kissing and feeling each other's bodies. I was hard all the time these days. I'd had only one orgasm from my dick getting touched since last Sunday. No matter how many times cum oozed out of my cock, it didn't make the need to orgasm go away.

"I need to kiss your hairless body," he said. "I plan to worship your body until the very end of our time together."

He kissed my neck and raised hickeys that would be visible for days; next, he moved down and licked my nipples then bit them gently. His focus on my pleasure centers was a new experience for me. "That feels so good, Sir," I said.

"Your body is starved for attention," he murmured against my abdomen as he licked my navel. "It's so fucking sexy already and you're turning into a work of art with all the exercise you're doing. I'm so happy that you're letting me be part of that."

He kissed my cock a few times, but was careful to stop short of making me cum. It wouldn't have taken much. His soft lips then nibbled my smooth scrotum. I was writhing in ecstasy at that point, even before he took one of my balls into his mouth. The gentle manipulations of his tongue, and the even more tender pressure from his cheeks and hard palate, were like nothing I'd ever felt before. No one had ever played with my balls before with such care and attention, and it felt amazing. I held my breath and I sensed my eyes rolling up into their sockets. I was having a lot of firsts tonight.

I was almost sorry when he finished with both testicles and motioned for me to turn over and licked my ass, but he didn't dive immediately for my hole; he explored my perineum for a while. I'd had no idea it was so sensitive, and his lips were strong and talented. I had the impression that he'd done this before. "You taste good, you know," he said. "Your sweat down here has a musky masculine scent, but it's fresh and delicious; not a hint of sour BO."

I didn't want to talk about the magic nipple ring making that possible, but I filed a note away in my mind that my master had been right. I was grateful for his gift after all.

Philip's tongue touched my hole and I think I may have seen stars. No one had ever made me feel this good. He circled my sphincter with his tongue. It felt so amazing that I relaxed completely, like I was completely open and accepting him. My eyes filled with tears and my moans slowly turned into sobs. Philip stopped tonguing my hole and crawled up next to me. He stroked my hair back and kissed my eyes, tasting the salt.

"What's wrong, Kyle?" he asked. "Your beautiful pink rosebud opened up for me so easily, I thought you were enjoying it."

"I am, Sir," I replied, still crying. "It's just that... I mean no one has ever..."

Philip wrapped his arm around my shoulders and said, "Do you mean that no one has ever eaten your butt before?"

"No, Sir," I said, "usually they just push it inside me and fuck me until they cum. Sometimes I cum too, but sometimes I don't."

"Oh baby," he said. "That's not right. Your hole is fucking beautiful, and I loved getting inside it last time, but the reason I wanted to see you without your master is that I wanted to show you that your pretty pink hole isn't just for another guy's pleasure. You're mostly, maybe completely, a bottom, but you've got this situation backwards. Your hole is for your pleasure. Any guy worthy of you should be willing to eat your butt. They should be willing to play with it gently until it opens for them. It's wrong for them to shove their dicks inside you, unprepared. Your delicate rosebud needs to open and invite them inside."

"It isn't like that for me, Sir," I said. "I'm a slave and I must do what my master says, and he says that I must give my butt to any man who tells me he wants it. I don't have the right to tell them how to do it. My place is to accept whatever happens."

"Sweetie, it's never going to be like that with me," he said. "I think it's amazing that you cum when I'm fucking you, but if I had my way, I'd suck your dick whenever you didn't cum. I'd suck it clean if you did cum. The only thing stopping me is your master. If I break his rules, I don't get to make love to you at all."

"I know, Sir," I said. "We're all bound by my master's rules."

"Now that I know you're crying from joy instead of pain or sadness, I would like to show your pink hole some love, if it's okay with you?" he said.

"Yes, Sir," I said. "But if you show my butt too much more love, I'm going to cum all over your bed."

Philips fingers teased my hole. I was still relaxed from his talented tongue, so his fingers slid inside me easily and found my prostate. He stroked it skillfully and I moaned. Every time he touched it, I moaned again.

"Your jock pussy is sexy and muscular, but it quivers when a man touches it. It's nibbling on my fingers like it's hungry."

He kissed the small of my back and said, "I'd like to fuck you now. I think you're ready for me, but I don't want to do it yet unless you really want me to. Are you ready for me to fuck the cum out of you?"

"Oh my god, yes, Sir!" I yelled. "Please fuck me hard. I'm ready for you."

"Do you want it on your back? Or on your stomach?" Philip asked.

He was running a hand across my butt and kissing my back. He was being sweet and kind, and I needed that, especially after what had happened to me earlier with my brother. It felt nice and made me feel wanted – and I felt a little guilty because deep down inside I wanted him to call me a jock bitch and order me to spread my legs. I loved the way he was treating me, but I also wanted him to take me roughly. If only I could have someone who cared about me like Philip, but who would treat me like a whore in bed.

"How do you want it, baby, front or back?" he asked.

I turned over and lay on my back.

"I want to see your face when you fuck me, Sir," I said.

Then I pulled my knees up against my chest, exposing my jock pussy for him to use. I clenched and unclenched my asshole, making it wink at him.

He slid his finger inside again and stroked my prostate again. I squeezed it with my sphincter.

"You're loose enough that I won't need much lube, but I'm going to use some anyway so that I just slide right in," he said.

"No, Sir!" I exclaimed, shaking my head. "I want to feel you going in. Just do it."

He grinned at me and dropped the bottle of lube onto the bed. Then he spit in his hand and rubbed it into my ass. I started moaning and he said, “It’s not just about lubrication, Kyle. It’s about making your hole feel good.”

“Thank you, Sir. I see that now, Sir. I just want to feel every inch of you… and sometimes I don’t want it to feel good… Sometimes… Sometimes I want it to hurt.”

He smiled wickedly. “Don’t worry, you will feel every inch of me. And natural lube is better for that purpose… and I already know how to make you feel it. But are you telling me that you like pain?”

“Maybe a little bit, Sir. Sometimes I… I feel like I need it.” I replied.

Philip placed a hand on my thigh in a friendly, non-erotic way. “If you feel that you need it, your mind may be trying to tell you something. You don’t have to act on all your urges. It’s okay to just sit on them for a while and think about what they could be trying to tell you about yourself.”

Then he took hold of my hard cock and rubbed the precum off the tip with his fingers, making me gasp. “But a little light pain, not serious, not too intense, that I can do for you. Just the kind of pain, maybe more like discomfort, that leads to pleasure.”

He eased that viscous liquid into my hole as well. He used two fingers to work it inside me. Once he was satisfied, he smeared his own precum on the head of his dick. Finally, he placed the head of his cock against me and pushed inside in one savage thrust. It didn't hurt, but there was some serious discomfort which quickly turned to the pleasure I needed. I also wanted to make him feel more manly, so I gave a loud groan.

"That's it, Sir!" I moaned.

He grinned at me and said, "I can't believe that I'm with you right now. A guy like me doesn't get a guy like you."

He started fucking me for real. His cock wasn't huge, but it felt good inside me, and he knew how to hit all the good spots. I knew what he was talking about. I was taller and I had a lot more muscle than him. He knew more about weight training, but he was starting with a leaner frame to begin with, and he'd gotten about as buff as he was going to.

"You're sexy as hell, Sir," I said. "Any guy would be lucky to be with you."

He picked up a rhythm. He had a talent for fucking. He thrust inside me from many different angles, but he managed to stroke my prostate with each pass. My breathing was growing ragged because I was getting so close. My nuts were starting to draw up close to my body and my cock was beginning to tingle. I used my ass muscles to increase his pleasure, relaxing when he went inside me, and clamping down hard when he was pulling out. I knew that neither of us would last long. We were both too close. He must have enjoyed playing with my ass as much as I'd enjoyed him playing with it.

I came first. My cock tightened than then released violently, spewing several loads onto my abdomen. He pushed as far inside me as he could and spilled his seed. I wrapped my muscular thighs around him and squeezed him tight against me. When he finished coming, he bent down and kissed me. Then he withdrew his cock.

I panicked when he bent down and started licking up the cum off my hairless belly, and I panicked even more when he swallowed the head of my cock and sucked it clean. Then he crawled next to me on the bed and kissed me. He'd saved most of that load in his mouth and we shared it back and forth.

"Now clean me," he demanded. And I did.

While we were lying tangled together, I said, "You shouldn't have done that, Sir. My master doesn't want anyone sucking my dick."

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll talk to him. He won't mind. I didn't give you a blowjob and that's what he's worried about."

We lay there on top of the sheets, letting the ceiling fan slowly evaporate the sweat from our bodies. I was two inches taller than him and about sixty pounds heavier and not all that extra weight was the fat around my gut. If all that extra fat disappeared right now, I'd still have an extra forty-five pounds of muscle. His waist would be thicker than mine, if I ever lost the extra fifteen pounds, because he was built like a rectangle and his upper torso lacked the vee shape that mine would have when I was in better condition. His face was pleasant enough, but not handsome. I liked it, probably more because I thought he was nice, and I liked him.

"I'm not built like you, and I'm not good looking like you are. You could be a model now that you're cleaned up," he said. I knew he was continuing the conversation from earlier. "Guys like me don't get guys like you, and I've been feeling guilty all day because... on some level I'm happy that you're Nico's slave. If you weren't his slave, I'd never have a chance with you."

I didn't want to lie to him. If I hadn't been forced to seek out sex wherever and whenever it was demanded of me, I probably wouldn't have paid any attention to him. I had always been attracted to pretty little gay things until Terrance Green. That man wasn't pretty, but he was undeniably handsome. And he was five inches taller than me which was a real turn on.

"It doesn't matter how we got together, Sir," I said. "I enjoy having sex with you, and I'm glad we're doing it. And if I weren't a slave, I would still be enjoying what we're doing."

None of that was a lie.

"Your master says that you can drive me back to campus tomorrow, so we can sleep together," he said. "If it's okay with you, I want us to sleep in each other's arms tonight."

"Yes, Sir," I answered. "I would love that."

And we did. It wasn't the same as falling asleep in Ezekiel's arms. With him I'd felt smaller and weaker, but with Philip I felt like the stronger, more powerful, man. It felt good.

---

You can read each story in The Concordium Cycle independently, or you can follow the author's preferred reading order that will blend the stories together. The next chapter in the author's preferred reading order is The Pack 7.

Special Thanks to my editor [email protected].