A Good Servant – Ch. 4
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2018 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
Intended for Mature Audiences Only
This story contains graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.
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Ch. 4 – Sex Is Power
To say he felt nothing while his hips were held still by strong, firm hands, would have been a lie. Despite his sudden need to just push his ass against the owner of said hands, his conscience told him to straighten up and assume a slightly frigid countenance, as he turned to face Lord Lucas.
“Good evening, sir,” he bowed politely, his eyes traveling from the man’s chin along the black silk shirt to find a rescue point in the subtle black diamond tie needle, one of the few pieces of jewelry the rulers were allowed to wear.
The man did not seem to be taken aback by the servant’s attitude. A low chuckle was the answer, and Cory’s chin was gently tipped, determining the young man to look up. The slightest amount of blush colored the high of his cheeks for a brief second, as his eyes sank in the emerald pools. The fact that Lucas was so beautiful it hurt didn’t help. Mustering all his courage, he cast his eyes down, avoiding the direct look.
“Can I help you with anything, sir?”
He could almost congratulate himself for maintaining his voice steady as he spoke.
“Oh, Cory,” Lucas whispered seductively, “you can help you me with a lot of things.”
The young man was saved by the rest of the servants, marching from the kitchen with all kinds of delicious treats on their trays.
Cory took advantage of the brief interruption and scurried away, murmuring an apology. No matter how much he wanted to stay right there and lose himself in Lucas’s amazingly hypnotic gaze, he knew his master’s words could not be taken as idle threats.
He was aware that the man would not follow him to the servants’ quarters, so he hurried to his room to catch a breather. He needed to wash his face, and regain a neutral color and fast, as a servant with cheeks ablaze would have made, for sure, a strange subject for conversation in the lavishly appointed dining room.
As he got in the hallways again, he almost head-butted the redhead servant from earlier.
“Cory,” the servant said sternly, “your master is a bit dissatisfied with your sudden disappearance.”
“I will be right there,” he said quickly and tried to get fast past the redhead.
“My name is Dion,” the servant said, catching his arm.
He turned to smile at the other. “Nice name,” he commented, and the other winked at him.
“I’ll help you out tonight,” the redhead walked side by side with him. “It is your first party? Of this size, I mean?”
“Yes, it is,” Cory admitted, while still walking fast.
“Sorry about earlier, we were way too nosy. But a servant’s life does not have that many highlights, except for gossip. We want to know everything when there’s a newcomer around.”
“That’s alright,” Cory shook his head a bit. Dion seemed to be a nice guy, and he could use a friend close to his age and station.
“After we tend the table, we will have to get the slaves prepared for the show,” Dion dropped his voice, and looked at Cory, trying to gauge his reaction.
But Cory remained silent, not knowing if a reply was required to that or not.
Hesitantly, Dion continued. “Does your master allow you to … help?”
“Help?” Cory shrugged. “I don’t know; I guess I’ll have to ask.”
Cory could not say whether the masters were truly enjoying themselves as the atmosphere around the table seemed to be quite hush-hush. There were very quiet conversations being muttered, and it looked as if those seated at the table were interested only in the people located within proximity and nothing else.
As they finished serving the courses, he noticed how the other servants were called by their masters and then sent away with a short nod. He caught Dion’s eyes for a second, and the redhead made a small gesture towards Cory’s master.
The young servant understood. He had spent almost the entire evening behind Xavier, trying hard to ignore how intimate he and Lucas seemed. They were talking sotto voce, just like everyone else, their heads almost touching, while, in turn, they barely touched the food placed in front of them.
Somewhat reluctantly, he got closer and leaned in, so his master could hear him.
“Master, I apologize for interrupting,” he whispered.
Xavier turned with a somewhat displeased expression on his face.
“Speak,” he said shortly.
“I was wondering if I should go help the others preparing the slaves,” he continued, keeping his eyes down.
There was a short glint in grey eyes that Cory missed. A quick glance was shared between the two rulers. Lucas’s lips pursed in displeasure.
“Yes, of course. After all, you need the training, and since I don’t keep any slaves, it would be hard for you to achieve that kind of knowledge otherwise. Go with the others. I look forward to seeing what you have learned tonight,” he added with a mysterious smile, again looking more at Lucas, then at Cory.
The servant nodded in the same fashion he had noticed the others doing and walked away, without looking at his master or his companion.
Lucas voiced his protest as soon as Cory was no longer within earshot.
“Xavier, is this a way for you to torment me?”
“What are you saying?” Xavier feigned innocence. “He just needs the practice.”
“He needs the practice …” Lucas mirrored his words. “… he in particular, of all the servants you had.”
“You know I’ve never kept anyone on a tight leash,” Xavier’s grey eyes turned into slits, as he continued to smile. “My servants are allowed … how should I put this? … a bit of leeway to compensate for their otherwise boring lives spent dusting and cooking all day long.”
Lucas straightened his back and moved slightly away from his friend as if he no longer cared for companionship.
“Leeway …” he sneered while repeating the word. “He has no clue about what to expect, has he, Xavier? You know his conditioning will force him to serve. What would you possibly hope to achieve with this? With his looks, he will obviously be used.”
“And why shouldn’t he?”
“Don’t you mind having your bed warmer spread and thoroughly fucked by some low life slaves? Or others’ cum is just your choice for lubricant?” Lucas spat the words while grabbing his champagne flute in front of him, in lack of anything else. The strong fingers flexed against the glass as if their owner was trying to strangle the poor object happening in his way.
“Come now, Lucas, don’t be crass. This is so not like you,” Xavier chided, ignoring the tension in the man’s shoulders.
“That only proves how little you know of me,” the brunet dropped his voice to an almost pained whisper.
Xavier’s eyes flashed in anger. Lucas was cruel to treat him like this! And for what? For a servant? He touched the man’s hand, caressing the small patch of skin between the black glove and the hem of his shirt.
“Why?” came the barely audible question. “Just because you can?”
Xavier sighed. “No, because every little thing in this world is set, and a servant does not belong in a ruler’s heart.”
“But he does belong in a ruler’s bed,” Lucas continued to ignore Xavier’s touch.
“Why not? They are prepared and trained to serve.”
“Not like this, and you know it.”
“Yet there are many ignoring this so-called rule you are talking about,” Xavier shrugged as if they talked matters of minor importance.
“With all due respect, Xavier, you are in a class of your own when it comes to this. You ostentatiously refuse to take any slaves, just to debase these creatures and make them yield. Is conquest the only thing you care about? Is this why are you insisting so much on trying to get me in your bed?”
Xavier frowned. Lucas seemed quite disturbed. It was unlike Drena’s brightest mind to judge his best friend in such a manner.
“I told you it would be different between us,” he said sternly, withdrawing his hand and stopping the caress on the brunet’s wrist. His fingers itched for the touch, but they had to behave for now. “I could even let you …” he leaned forward and whispered something in Lucas’s ear.
The man didn’t look pleased. “I would still not be interested,” the words poured acid on Xavier’s pride. “Do not mistake the little liberties we take for something else. I’ve never been, and I never will be interested in being more than friends.”
Xavier feigned a small yawn, to hide his unease. Lucas was a passionate human being; it was one of the things he loved in his best friend. But getting on his wrong side had never felt like this before; it was not like he was afraid. Friends or not, there was no one above him, no one. Xavier had been born to rule, and another position than number one was beneath him. In dealing with other diplomats, or with his many lovers, it didn’t matter; he was the one in charge. Lucas just had to be taught, despite his overbearing pride. Even if Xavier had to crush him, he had to make the beautiful brunet his.
Cory stepped into the large living room, transformed into the slaves’ headquarters for the evening, his head in the clouds. Getting away from Lucas made it easier to think of him, so when he took in the scene before his eyes, he just remained stuck in the middle of the room, his mouth agape.
Several male specimens, completely naked, were relaxing in various provocative positions on the sofas brought to the room specifically for the event. The servants Cory had met earlier were fawning over them, making their perfectly tanned bodies glisten with special oils they had probably brought from their masters’ homes.
He noticed how Dion was carefully massaging the round buttocks of a beautiful brunet with long hair. When the slave’s eyes lazily opened, he saw they were the deepest blue.
The slave shifted and watched him with interest. Cory just stared, finding it impossible to unglue his eyes from the brunet’s steady gaze.
“Who’s the new bitch?” the slave drawled the words, and Cory felt an unfamiliar sting somewhere right in the middle of his chest.
Dion slapped the man’s buttocks. “Play nice, Antoine. He belongs to Lord Xavier,” the redhead warned.
“So?” the slave got up, followed by other pairs of interested eyes, as he got closer to the object of his interest.
Suddenly, it was silence; Cory could feel it, thick and dangerous around him. The slave called Antoine stopped in front of him. He was a few good inches taller than the servant, so Cory had to tip his head a bit backward to keep his eyes on him.
“Pretty,” Antoine commented while catching a few strands of blond hair and playing with them, by rolling them on his fingers. “Since you’re Xavier’s toy, I suppose you know well how to suck cock,” he said with a small smile that made Cory shift a bit nervously.
Fortunately, Dion came to the rescue. “Don’t bully him. He’s new. And just because he belongs to Lord Xavier – don’t ever forget to add the honorific, Antoine, or one day your ass will be toasted – it does not mean that he is supposed to be your toy, too.”
“What?” Antoine crossed his arms over a perfectly chiseled torso. “I am only asking to be prepared by him,” he smiled and winked at Cory.
“I think I am perfectly capable of doing that,” Dion’s dark eyes grew a shade darker.
“I am bored of you,” Antoine flicked his mane of black hair over a shoulder, trying to dismiss Dion from his view. “With you, it’s always the same routine. I want something new. Can you give me something new?” he asked, lifting his chin in disdain, and watching Dion through his eyelashes.
“What a melodrama queen,” Dion hissed. “Any hot orifice will do for you. Stop being difficult.”
“I can tell master my performance lost its shine because you failed to prepare me,” Antoine warned, making Dion roll his eyes in exasperation.
Cory felt compelled to intervene. “There is no problem, Dion. I came here to help, after all. Please let me know what I have to do, and I will do my best.”
His small speech made the two turn their heads in surprise at the same time. Cory could tell the others in the room, slaves and servants alike, were now staring at him. Again, he was shown his place. His master was one thing, though; a powerful man, capable of crushing Cory within a blink of an eye, while this slave was nothing but one of the many toys groomed to please the rich, just like him.
“Then suck my cock,” the brunet said, grabbing his package and giving his organ a tentative rub.
Cory’s serene sapphire eyes clashed for a brief second with the deeper blues.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said with a small smile. Dion was looking at him, wide-eyed, saying nothing, and, in passing, as he followed Antoine to the sofa the slave had been sprawled until earlier, he winked at the redhead.
He had to meet these famous slaves, after all, and his master was right that he needed the practice. He was a fast learner, and he was not going to let Antoine see him ashamed or embarrassed.
The brunet lay on his back, parting his legs, and raising his lean, muscular arms above his head.
“Make it hard and wet. I have some drilling to do tonight to please the masters. So don’t give me some lame blowjob, bitch,” he said with a sneer.
Calmly, Cory took a seat between the long legs and touched the slave’s organ, carefully drawing back the skin and caressing it.
“Your humble servant’s name is Cory,” he looked Antoine in the eyes, as he descended to engulf the round head in his mouth.
The short hitch in the brunet’s breathing, as their eyes remained locked let him know he had won. Even small victories were worth taking into consideration, for a young servant who was expected to please and nothing else.
His eyes at half-mast, he incrementally pushed the growing organ into his mouth, letting it slide down his throat. The now well known familiar stir in his groin made him shift a little, to adjust his position. If he wanted to survive tonight, without fear of embarrassment and worthlessness, he had to keep his head in the game. So he thought of the harsh training at the Institution, to will his erection down.
The brunet did not seem to care that Cory’s skillful technique was lacking in enthusiasm. He grabbed the blond head and pushed inside, deeper and deeper. The servant took the reins once more as he squeezed the base of Antoine’s cock hard and withdrew.
Antoine whimpered, as he felt cold air hitting the skin that had been so properly lavished until then.
“You are properly stimulated now,” Cory politely bowed and stood up.
The brunet followed him with his eyes, as Dion hurried to pamper him some more.
“I want him,” the slave said like a petulant child.
“And?” Dion shrugged, but he looked after the blond as he took a seat at the far end of the room, the same serene look on his face he’d had as sucking Antoine.
“What do you mean ‘and’?” Antoine spoke annoyed. “He’d better be here after the party, or else …”
“Else what?” the redhead challenged.
“Or it will be you passed around tonight. And I know how much you hate it when I let all of them have a go at you.”
Dion pretended to be unaffected. “Have it your way. I do not mind as much as you think I do.”
“Watch it, Dion,” Antoine’s voice dropped a few notes. “I can always make the game more interesting. Maybe we should test how much you can resist with your head under water, this time?”
The redhead stiffened visibly. “You wouldn’t dare,” he warned, but his confidence from earlier was visibly shaken.
“Master doesn’t care. He can always replace you with some new face. I’m not sure if he even knows your name …” the brunet seemed to ponder, with an evil grin plastered all over his face.
“He’ll be here,” Dion blurted out, the corners of his mouth falling and his eyes looking down.
Antoine patted his head, in a fake gesture of affection. “Good boy. That’s what’s keeping you interesting and alive, Dion. Your ability to execute orders. Don’t forget.”
Dion looked grimly over the place where Cory sat, seemingly unaffected by the slurping sounds and moans filling the room, as the servants were getting the beautiful slaves ready for the show.
Antoine suddenly took his hand and placed it over his softening erection. “C’mon, Dion. Give it a few rubs, for luck.”
“It’s not like you need it,” the redhead regained some of his composure, but did as told, making the supple organ lengthen in his hand again.
The brunet laughed and grabbed Dion’s head to place a quick, hard kiss on the servant’s mouth.
From his place, Cory watched. He could tell Dion was afraid. Despite the beauty, the luxury, fear was ever present, and he could only guess what Antoine wanted as he gestured towards the place where Xavier’s servant sat.
If he could live through his master’s threats, he could live through the whims of a pampered slave. His back straightened, his eyes looking ahead, he stood there, as if nothing mattered in the world.
The servants were not necessary during the performance, so they chose to remain in the living room after the slaves took their leave.
Cory sat next to Dion who looked lost in thought.
“So, Dion,” he asked the redhead, “what is the performance all about?”
The other servant threw him a furtive look. “The masters enjoy seeing their slaves battling for dominance in a ring. And, of course, fuck,” came the explanation.
Cory nodded. Dion made a small gesture as if he wanted to say something else, but then returned to his sullen silence.
The blond could feel something was amiss. He gently touched the other’s shoulder. “What did Antoine say to you that you are so afraid right now?”
The redhead almost jumped. “N-nothing,” he stammered, but his face scrunched in a painful grimace. “Look, Cory,” he just blurted out, “you should just go.”
“And where should I go?” Cory asked with a small smile. “This is my master’s home.”
“Antoine …” Dion breathed out, on the verge of panicking, “he wants to …”
Cory squeezed Dion’s shoulder. “I guess I know what he wants.”
“No, you don’t,” the redhead said sharply. “He’ll force you to do it with everyone else. He gets off on making others feel miserable and useless. He’ll make you feel like a cheap whore, and you will not be able to say ‘no’, because …”
“Dion,” Cory warned. “Is your master letting him do it? Debase you and feel bad about yourself? Use you?”
“He doesn’t care,” Dion’s eyes were wet with tears. “Please don’t let it happen to you.”
Cory’s shoulders tensed. “Thank you for the warning, Dion. But sooner or later, it will happen anyway. It may be Antoine or someone else. And I was warned before this may happen.”
Dion sniffled. “Aren’t you afraid? You may still be … a virgin?” the redhead asked, unsure.
Cory shook his head slowly. “Were you when it happened?” the blond asked hesitantly, and the other nodded with a bitter expression on his face. “Don’t worry. He’s a stupid one. And I saw you dealing with him. You can have power over him.”
“I can?” Dion stared at him, wide-eyed.
“I may be new here, but there is one lesson I learned since I came here. Tell them what they want to hear, do what they want you to do, and you will have a fair chance to survive. Deep inside, be true to your own self.”
The redhead stared at him in awe. “How old are you, Cory?”
“And how come you’re so smart?”
“I doubt I’m smart. But I know one thing. That I enjoy living, even if it means suffering or being treated like you matter less than anything.”
Dion looked around, with a sad expression in his eyes.
“Drena is the most beautiful city on the coast. So few people can enjoy its riches. Among all, we are the worst. Slaves to the slaves, we are nothing but a commodity that, once rendered useless, can be thrown away.”
“What happens to the servants? How long are they supposed to serve?”
“When we get too tired or too used, we are usually sent to work the factories. I heard life is bad there,” Dion said with a whisper.
“It’s hard out there, but you are also free,” Cory said with melancholy in his bright blue eyes. “Freer than here.”
“You were taken from there? I was raised here, within the city limits,” Dion said with unbound curiosity.
“Yes, I was. And I wanted to remain there. Apparently, I was too good looking for hard labor. Isn’t that a bummer?” he added as if he was talking to himself. “I … loved someone there,” he said hesitantly, suddenly feeling the need to confess, to let another human being know about his thoughts, his feelings, his life before becoming a utility and nothing more.
“For real?” Dion was the one to squeeze his arm now, a bit excited. “How was he?”
“He was …” Cory realized he was having a hard time remembering his lover’s face. “He was a bit older. But he was good to me. A hard worker. Not as beautiful as any of the people around here. But he was kind, and …” his words died on his lips, seeing the doors opening and Antoine and the others walking in.
Some of the slaves looked a bit shaken. There were marks on their skin that hadn’t been there before. Of them all, the long-haired brunet was marching in, as victorious.
Dion’s hand squeezed at Cory’s arm tighter, but the blond was prepared. He watched with feigned indifference, as Antoine slumped on one of the sofas, and his eyes traveled the beautiful muscular body now glistening with sweat and rested on the large organ which, even soft, looked impressive. He could tell the other slaves had lost and had to service the beast.
Servants were slaves to the slaves, Cory mused, thinking of Dion’s words. So, he was expected to be a whore. That was not as heavy a task as others thought. After all, when his master and Lucas had spoken about the possibility to have him service an entire stable, he had felt excited at the thought.
Sex was power. But power had to be yielded by a skilled individual, to reach its potential. Cory was not sure of all its intricacies, but he knew he was a fast learner. He rose, touching Dion’s shoulder briefly, and headed straight for Antoine who was watching him with burning eyes.
He sat casually on the arm of the sofa and leaned in to whisper in Antoine’s ear. “I heard you wanted me.”
Blues eyes turned to watch him with growing interest. Cory touched the man’s right shoulder and started caressing the long sinewy arm. “Was it a good night for you so far?”
“It’s only getting better,” the brunet grinned and suddenly grabbed Cory to have him sit in his lap. “Tell me,” he whispered, hardly refraining a tremble in his body, “has Xavier fucked you?”
Cory smiled and caressed the slave’s cheek. “Yes, he has.”
The small nervous flutter in the man’s eyelashes told him, Cory, it was the answer he was expecting. A cruel smile stretched on the brunet’s lips, as he spoke to the entire room.
“Who wants to empty some balls in Lord Xavier’s new fuck toy?”
Cory remained relaxed in Antoine’s arms, as he could hear the cheers booming from every slave’s chest in the room. That earned him a surprised look from the brunet.
He slowly closed the distance between their lips and brushed over Antoine’s mouth. “And I thought you only wanted me for yourself. What a shame,” he feigned regret.
Antoine’s arms gripped him tightly. A meaningful look was exchanged between them. Cory disentangled himself from the man’s embrace and rose to face the naked slaves who were drawing closer, making a partial circle around him and Antoine.
One grabbed him and pulled at his uniform, but he carefully freed his arm from his hands.
“There is no need for that,” he said somewhat derisively. With slow moves, he started to unbutton his shirt. He let it slide on slender shoulders, and looked back at Antoine who was staring at him with an indecipherable expression on his face. His eyes became sultry, as he continued to undress, looking at no one else but the brunet.
Completely naked, he knelt, inviting the slaves to come closer. Apparently, his actions had taken all by surprise, and they were now a bit nervous. He grabbed a cock near to him in his hand and engulfed it in one go in his mouth. His master had said he needed the practice; so he was doing nothing else but better his skills as a servant.
Soon enough, there were cocks of different shapes and sizes battling for entrance to his mouth. He caressed hairless sacks as he moved to taste every one, with his eyes at half-mast. Antoine’s hot gaze was drilling his back. He knew it, and he could bet his life he knew what the slave was thinking now.
Strong arms lifted him from the floor, making one cock slide effortlessly from his mouth. He did not need to turn his head to know. As he was placed on the sofa, and impatient fingers pushed inside him, lubricated with nothing but saliva, he exhaled and closed his eyes.
“You could have said earlier you wanted me, too,” he heard the accusatory whisper in his ear, as a large cock was pushed inside him, without too much preparation. “Now I have to let these losers have you, for fuck’s safe.”
Antoine sounded angry; Cory loved it. Emotions were good; if he was the only one capable of keeping a clear head while enjoying having his backside hammered by the best cocks in all Drena, he was the winner, and no one else. And Xavier and Lucas were no different from the horny slaves, lining up behind him to have a go at him. To know that was a relief; for a little while, he thought his master to be different. But in this world, it looked as if everyone was thinking with his cock.
That gave him enough to work with. With a small frustrated grunt, Antoine spent himself inside the servant’s body and then a sharp sting burned his right butt cheek, as the slave slapped him.
“He’s a natural bottom, guys. Enjoy him now, ‘cause after this, his ass is mine.”
Cory smiled inwardly. Having another cock pushed inside him, after being made slick by Antoine’s cum, was easier. He could focus on the pleasure alone, as he grabbed his cock and started pumping it. At least Dion would deal with a satiated, less of a prick, slave tonight.
He sensed someone moving in front of him, as the slaves continued to hammer him one after another.
He languidly opened his eyes, to see Antoine crouched in front of him and looked at him with reproach in his big beautiful eyes.
“Are you enjoying this?” the brunet spat.
“I am born to serve,” he whispered between moans, as his prostate was brushed over and over again.
“This is not what I’m asking,” Antoine added.
“I told you. I would have rather had you and you alone,” Cory whispered back, as he came and his eyes became unfocused.
“Why?” the brunet seemed oblivious to Cory’s manifestations of pleasure as he was thoroughly fucked.
“Because you are the most good-looking man I’ve ever seen,” Cory lied, as his mind traveled for a brief second to a pair of hypnotic green eyes.
“Really?” Antoine grinned.
Oh, boy, not the smartest tool in the shed, are you? Cory thought, as he slowly nodded and arched his back to receive the next cock owner directly into his well-used ass.
“More beautiful than your master?”
There were many reasons to understand why vanity was considered a deadly sin by the ancients. Cory slowly opened his eyes to look into Antoine’s deep blues.
“Don’t let anyone know I told you that,” he breathed out, as he wiggled his ass to enhance his pleasure.
Antoine’s smile was brighter than the sun. The brunet jumped to his feet.
“Party’s over!” he yelled, and sounds of protest were the immediate reply.
“But we haven’t gotten to fuck him yet,” one slave protested.
“I am the only one that gets to fuck him from now on,” Antoine spoke. “Be thankful I let any of you touch him.”
He brutally pulled Cory up and dragged him in his arms. “If anyone touches what’s mine …” he let the threat float in the still air of the room.
Disgruntled slaves turned their backs to now search for the other servants, to vent off their steam. For a brief second, Cory’s eyes crossed with Dion’s. He winked at the other, and the redhead’s look of amazement was priceless.
“We don’t have much time left,” Antoine grabbed Cory’s head to kiss him.
The blond averted his lips. “They had their cocks in my mouth,” he explained, as Antoine’s embrace became impossible tight. “I suppose you don’t want to taste them all,” he added with an innocent look, as he stared into the slave’s eyes.
With a low growl, Antoine pressed his head against his chest. “Next time I see you, Cory, I want you all to myself.”
In the meantime, the masters were starting to leave. As Cory headed for the main hallway, to join the others, he suddenly crossed paths with the last man he wanted to see that night.
“Are you alright, Cory?” Lucas gestured to caress his head, but Cory quickly bowed to avert the touch.
“A master should not be concerned with a servant’s well-being. It’s against the protocol,” he said quickly and hurried to move along.
The man’s strong grip stopped him. “A master does what he pleases, servant,” Lucas’s voice became low and dangerous.
Cory suddenly felt his arm becoming free. He raised his eyes to see his one true master. He bowed, and Xavier commented.
“Everyone has left. Would you care to stay a while longer, Lucas?” his master asked.
“No. I should get going, too,” Lucas’s voice sounded annoyed.
“Cory,” his master caressed his hair, as they both sat on the master bed. “How many cocks did you have in your ass tonight?”
There was no real need for confirmation, but Cory was glad to have it. Xavier had known what was going to happen.
“I didn’t know I had to count,” he said innocently, and Xavier laughed.
“You’re such a good servant, Cory, such as good servant. Do you still have any energy left for you to serve your master, then?”
“Of course, master. I always do,” he raised his blue eyes to look at Xavier.
Grey eyes searched his face for the slightest sign of rebellion. Not finding one, the man’s beautiful features relaxed.
“You’re good at following orders, Cory. It’s all you need to do. Don’t ever forget who your master is, and the world will be yours.”
He had a mind of asking what that meant, but as Xavier moved against his body, letting his intentions know, he let the world fade away.
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