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A young lad poured high class scotch in a carefully designed glass, as per his young master's orders.
“Young Master.” His voice was raspy, the kind of boy's voice going into puberty. He was the young master's personal attendant, the new one, and it was his first day.
Benedict, the young master, observed the boy. He had red curls and green eyes. His skin was fully covered in many shades of freckles, starting from his forehead, down into his shirt collar. He wasn't taller than himself, his build on the lean side. The boy activated something in the young master, a predatory instinct telling him to own him. Benedict needed release, and he presented at the right time.
Benedict cupped his hand around the glass, over the boy's hand. The boy retreated his hand a little bit too quickly, and the glass shattered on the marble floor. A strong, alcoholic herbal scent filled the room.
“Strip.” Benedict ordered. The boy didn't even have time to apologize and take care of the mess, freezing on the spot.
“W-what?” The boy gawked at the young master, lips parted. His heartbeat picked pace, pounding loud in his ears. He had heard other servants gossiping about the young master's ex personal attendants; they all quit voluntarily and vanished after an accident. Was this it?
“Strip.” The young master's tone was firm, assertive. The boy didn't have space, nor authority, to say no. After all, he did break a glass. But stripping? Wasn't Young Master going a little bit too far?
Benedict was waiting, staring at the trembling boy intently. Would he comply? Or would he run out of the room, out of his sight forever? He had an inkling that the boy would oblige. He saw the way he was doing everything so perfectly, he saw the want to please him.
“May I swipe the floor first?” The attendant whispered, his eyes never leaving the mess he created.
“You may.” Benedict agreed, the corner of his lips threatening to curl upwards.
The young attendant bowed and exited the room, returning soon after with cleaning items, wiping the floor clean, as if the accident never happened. Only the sound of glass shards colliding into each other filled the silence.
Then, he exited the room again, only to return to the beast's den. He knew he was going to get skinned alive, but something was pulling him to the danger. He closed the door and stayed by it. He daren't make another step, his poor heart thumping furiously in his ribcage. Tingles ran down his spine, all of them ending in his lower abdomen. He was aching and pulsating between his legs that were barely holding him up. He could also feel the slick wetting his underwear, hoping there were no visible wet spots in his pants.
He was already here wasn't he? He chose it.
The room was lit dimly by the full moon and a couple of oil lamps placed one on the desk beside the sofa the young master was sitting at, the other on the nightstand.
The young master was a man in his early twenties, twenty-three to be exact. He was sitting there on that dark-blue sofa, his long toned legs crossed loosely, one hand resting on the edge of the sofa, and one resting on his thighs, near his crotch, where the boy could see an evident bulge. He gulped, but his throat remained dry nonetheless.
Benedict gestured him to come forward, and the boy obliged. He could feel his own cheeks heating up, his whole body feeling hot. Yet, nothing had been done.
"What's your name?" Benedict placed a hand on his waist, his thumb massaging his skin. The boy squirmed.
"R-Roy." He breathed. The hot hand was traveling upwards, and Roy couldn't help but stare at the big hand belonging to his young master, thick and veiny, feeling his body with such firmness that grew butterflies in his stomach. Tingles continued to form from the thumb rubbing him, going straight between his damp legs.
When the hand left his body, Roy almost whimpered at the sudden loss of warmth. The heat provided by the touch was actually comforting.
"Undress for me, Roy."
The boy turned red. His heart almost exploded when he heard his own name coming from his young master's lips. The tone and the voice, were just it for him. This morning, never would he have imagined to be lusting after his young master, his employer, risking his entire career, betting his own body. If all of this meant selling his soul to the demon — his young master, then he would gladly do so.
His shaky hands unbuttoned his white shirt, his action clumsy, while young master had both of his hands wandering on the shivering skin beneath — his tummy, his chest, his back. Benedict stared at him the whole time, as the blush extended onto the neck, on his hairless chest. He felt all the shivers beneath his hands, trying to understand the pattern, where was he getting more reactions, only to focus on those spots.
Finally, Roy managed to get rid of the shirt, letting it fall on the color beneath, exposing his naked torso to his young master. He was almost certain he soiled his underwear from how much he was slicking.
Benedict hummed when he saw the two rosy buds, all perked up from the attention received, but still begging for more. He hadn't touched them yet, and he wasn't going to until the boy was completely naked for him to see.
As if sensing it wasn't enough, Roy brought his hands on his belt, slowly undoing it. The way young master was following his every movement made his stomach churn. What if the young master wasn't going to like what he was going to see? Roy unzipped his pants, and stripped his legs after a deep breath. He didn't dare looking at the young master anymore. A low groan echoed in the room, and the next thing Roy knew was him being taken from his spot and his back slamming on the sofa, getting his air knocked off his lungs.
The pants were still down his ankles, he didn't get the time to take them off, so Benedict did for him, freeing his feet from his shoes and socks as well. He now noticed how turned on was the boy, from the dark spot on his white panties getting larger by the second. He let out another pleased groan.
He took the boy's left leg, lifting it up to his mouth, kissing his way up his calf, up to his inner thighs, surprised to not find many freckles there, as he nipped at the soft skin. His whole body was so soft, making Benedict want to touch him all the time. He also smelled good, a soapy scent that eased his mind from the long day he had. He actually wanted to shut his brain with some good Old Scotch, but he didn't mind feasting on the boy panting so hard already, and he didn't even start.
After Benedict was satisfied of the dark marks emerging from the fair skin of his thighs, he finally lunged his face between the boy's thighs, inhaling deeply, taking in the smell of sweat and arousal from the source. He wondered if the boy had freckles there too. He had the whole night to discover it.
Benedict stayed like this for a few minutes, enough for Roy to relax. He placed kisses over the damp fabric, all the while studying Roy's reactions. The boy was looking at him heavy lidded, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his breathing heavy and uneven, his hands gripping the edges of the sofa so hard his knuckles turned white. His whole upper half was tomato red. It was a first for Benedict too, he didn't know a person's whole body could blush, and so hard too. He didn't stop the smile this time.
He kept kissing the boy over the fabric, which was outlining his vulva, a nub poking out just right above, requesting all of his attention. Roy sucked in a breath when Benedict closed his mouth over his aching clit, arching his back into his young master's mouth when he started sucking at the nub. He couldn't help but moan, sounds he never let escape from his lips when he was doing it by himself. Being touched and sucked by someone else — none other than his young master, was a completely different experience. The two things were incomparable from the start.
Benedict took his time with the boys clit — kissing it, sucking it, licking it. He massaged the rest of the vulva with his right thumb, stimulating every part of it — under the clit, his urethra, his twitching hole. The smell of arousal was getting sharper as Roy's broken moans were getting more high pitched, although he tried to hide them uselessly behind his hands. His body was more honest, as his hips were rocking back and forth on his young master's expert tongue.
Benedict halted his assault and Roy whimpered at the loss, giving the young master a questioning look. He knew he had to take only what his young master was offering, but he didn't really care at the moment, wanting to chase after the high he was just denied. He attempted to touch himself, but his hand got swatted away harshly.
"Don't you dare touch what's mine." Benedict growled. He slapped Roy's outer thigh, leaving a red imprint from the force he used. Roy's green eyes became glossy in an instant, his nose red. He didn't understand why he was not allowed to touch his body and why was the young master suddenly inflicting him such pain.
"I'm mine." Roy fought. His parents had always reminded him that his body belonged to only Roy, and his body was only his, and no one else, no matter what they claimed otherwise. Not even his young master.
The statement earned him another slap, same intensity, same spot, adding to the pain he was already feeling. Big tears rolled over the sides of his face. He never really stood any pain, his tolerance level was very low. Adding to the fact that he was getting spanked, Roy started crying.
"What I say, is the law." Benedict planted another spank on Roy's naked bottom this time, ignoring his crying. "Understood?" Another powerful spank landed on the boy's inner thigh. He was sure to bruise all over his left leg when he was going to wake up.
Roy still stood his place. He wasn't going to give in, even if the young master was going to hate him for it. And Benedict was not accepting his no for an answer.
"Then let's set rules. First one, you can't touch your private parts unless I permit you." After more spankings and still "no"s, Benedict changed his strategy. Roy wasn't looking at him with hatred anymore now. He just looked confused.
"You're my personal attendant, therefore you're mine." The young master reasoned. "This is part of your job, to meet my needs."
"What about mine? Are they unimportant? Just because I'm a servant?" Roy's voice broke at the end of the sentence, not crying anymore. He got momentarily blinded by desire, forgetting his place. He was just a servant after all, someone inferior to him, the young master.
Benedict pinched the bridge of his nose, but he was willing to make this work. He liked the way Roy was fighting for his own rights, knowing damn well he was never going to win. Benedict exhaled.
"Let's do this. If you behave well, you get a reward. If you don't, you get punished." He started again. "This — he gestured at Roy's bruised left thigh — was a punishment for making me angry. If you agree not to masturbate anymore on your own, I'll give you a reward."
Roy gave him the benefit of the doubt. "What is the reward?"
"I will allow you release. You decide how." Benedict really wanted the boy to agree. To his great joy, the boy nodded. He laughed, and flopped on the sofa, leaning on Roy's legs.
"I want you to use your mouth on me." Roy decided, playing with young master's dark locks. "On the bed?" He dared. Benedict grinned from ear to ear. He knew the boy wouldn't let him down.
Young master lifted Roy princess style. The boy yelped and hugged his neck tight, afraid of falling down. He knew his master was strong — he practiced martial arts every day, but he didn't think he was this strong, lifting all of him so easily, as if he didn't weight anything. Roy was not thin by any means, he even had some tummy fat from his huge appetite.
Benedict placed the boy on the bed, laying him on top of the blankets. His pale skin was highlighted by contrast with the dark sheets, he stood out magnificent on his bed, perfectly red, perfectly bruised. His breath hitched, the hardness in his pants twitching and leaking, hard to ignore anymore.
He put a pillow under Roy's lower back, parting his legs, exposing him completely. The boy covered his face with his hands, sudden shyness hitting him. He felt guilty and shameless at the same time. Guilty, because he should've been the one pleasing his young master — not the other way around; shameless, since he really had asked to get eaten out — and it was really happening.
Benedict scoffed, but he proceeded to grip the smooth fabric of his panties, pulling it off in one motion, revealing the hidden pussy underneath, a little darker than the rest of Roy's skin, red hair around the mound. He almost came just from the sight.
"Perfect." Benedict admitted out loud, his thumbs running up and down the vulva, lubing it up with Roy's slick. His golden eyes were dark, his attention focused solely there.
Roy sighed, the pleasure slowly building up again. Whenever young master rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves, he jolted, not expecting the sparks of electricity the action brought him every time. His hands flew to his sides, fisting the bedsheets hard, biting down his lower lips to not make sounds.
When Benedict pressed down harder, he mewled, his legs closing in reflex.
"Young master?" He forced out, when he got spanked again, sharp tingles heating up his right inner thigh. Tears formed in the corner of his eyes.
"Don't close your legs, Roy. You need to take what you asked for like a good boy." Benedict rubbed the spanked spot, as if to soothe the boy. Roy let his legs spread again, trying to relax again. Young master was so mean to him. "That's my good boy."
Roy almost choked in embarrassment. He was not going to show how much he liked to be praised by his young master, every word felt in his crotch. More slick gushed out. Benedict chuckled, rewarding the boy — his boy, with a good spank directly on his wet pussy.
Roy screamed, holding the back of his knees with his hands, refraining himself to close his legs again, as much as he wanted to. The pain mixed with pleasure almost made him pass out, his eyes rolled back watching the headrest of the bed, his mouth agape. Every muscle of his body tensed, waiting for a signal to burst.
"Fuu-ngh!" Another spank landed directly on his clit, which was swelling up from the impact. Benedict reached the edge as he landed another spank on the now red pussy, watching delighted as his good boy trashed and convulsed in a powerful orgasm. They groaned in unison, as Benedict continued to stimulate his puffy clit, tipping the boy right into overstimulation.
"Again." He ordered. Roy turned his head side to side, tears streaming down the sides of his face. It was all too much.
"Come on, be a good boy and cum again for me." Benedict felt like bullying the poor boy until their next life. His soft crying was music to his ears, the way he forcefully held his shaking legs open was too cute. Amidst it all, he still wanted to be good for him.
Benedict sat with his legs on either side of Roy's body, lifting the boy up, so he could have full access to that dripping pussy. Roy almost fainted when Benedict lapped his tongue over the length of the boy's mound. Roy forgot all about his request, and now his young master was reminding him with determination.
"Please." Roy sobbed, both his hands digging into Benedict's strong thighs. "Please, please please!" He didn't really know what he was asking for, either for Benedict to stop altogether or for more. Especially when the tongue slipped into his needy hole.
Benedict chuckled, sending vibrations straight into Roy. The boy sobbed, bubbling incoherent words, too far gone. Benedict was well aware of what he was doing, the control over his boy overjoyed him. He moaned at the sweet taste of arousal, his hard on requesting immediate assistance. He placed the pillow underneath himself and started humping at the same pace he was tongue-fucking the boy.
Roy had been spasming for a while, not able to come down from the high. There was a ring in his ears, not letting him hear anything. He wasn't even certain if he was still on Earth anymore. His brain was fried from of all the received stimulation, his body disconnected from his mind entirely. He was somewhat aware of his body shaking uncontrollably, his hips still chasing after the pleasure despite it all. He never had felt so aroused in his life, his body seemed to never be satisfied.
He didn't know how many times he was made to orgasm, nor he was aware of how much time had passed. At some point, he felt full, something filling up inside him again and again. He could feel his own slick running down his spine, down to his neck. Gosh, Roy didn't know what to think of himself anymore. He had been such a slut, and he still craved more. Maybe he was even chanting it; he felt his vocal cords vibrating all the time, his mouth forming the same word again and again.
The sun shone brightly in the blue sky when Roy regained consciousness. His left thigh and his buttocks throbbed. He felt sore between his legs, his mound had turned bright red, his pussy was so puffy he couldn't believe his eyes. Young master had left already, he was all alone in a huge room, also a room he didn't belong.
Strangely, he didn't feel gross or sticky, and the bedsheets had been changed. Roy blushed. Did his young master take care of him? He shook his head. It was probably some other servant. The thought made him sit up on the fresh bedsheets, the reality of what happened downing him. What was he gonna do now? How was he going to face the others?