Succession (21 page)

This gets a laugh out of Sy, breaking the uncomfortably serious mood.

“Trust me,” I say, looking at him sincerely. “This will be fun. Cash won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. And I want to see what it’s like.”

“All right,” Sy agrees. “But only because you’re so cute when you ask nicely.”

“You should see him when he begs,” Cash comments.

I can tell that the thought turns Sy on, and it turns me on even more. I make quick work of Sy’s shirt. It’s like the fabric is getting in the way; now that he’s made up his mind, he’s determined to get naked as quickly as possible. Once his shirt is off, I pause, because I’ve never really had much of a chance to study his body. I’ve seen the scars, the big one from the knife, the smaller ones from past whippings. There are others I don’t know the story of; something that might be a gunshot wound, maybe other knife wounds. A dark bruise stretches across his back, leftover from the talk show the other day. His arms look like they have a few burn marks, cigarettes, maybe. He has a few tattoos that I’ve never really noticed before. When we showered together at the detention facility, I was too terrified to notice much of anything. I’ll ask him about them, one day.

I take in his broad chest, the clearly defined muscles. While Cash doesn’t sport the waif-thin appearance that I do, he is all lean muscle, the kind that comes from working out at a gym twice a week and eating healthy. Sy has the look of work about him, the look of hard labor and solid strength. I know he can pick me up, and I bet he can pick Cash up as well, although I doubt either of them would allow that to happen. Sy’s hands come up to touch me again, and I’m struck by how gentle this man is with me when I’m sure he could crush me if he wanted to.

“Kiss him,” Cash suggests, and I can’t really tell if he’s talking to me or to Sy.

Sy takes it as an order, and his hand comes up to cup my head. He pulls me close, pressing his lips against mine.

It’s strange. We’ve done a lot of things, but never this, and I get that blushing virgin feeling. He’s gentle, moving our mouths together carefully and stroking my hair as he does. I relax in his arms, loving the way it feels, and after a while, I part my lips, wondering if he’ll return the favor.

He does, and I get to experience the pleasure of his tongue on mine, soft and yielding, so unlike the rest of him. He takes his time with me, and I can’t help but feel like I’m melting into his touch. I wrap my arms around him to hold on. It feels nice, like I belong there.

After what seems like a pleasant forever, he pulls back, smiling at me. I decide that I want his pants off, and when I move to unfasten them, he doesn’t protest, he just leans back and lifts his hips obligingly.

I’m naked in bed with two men I like very much, and I can feel both their eyes boring into me.

Chapter 18
Exploration

I run my hands down Sy’s legs, so familiar, yet still so new. I like the exploration, and if his cock is any indication, he likes it too. I touch it carefully, unsure of what he likes. It’s strange, because I know exactly how to get him off as quickly as possible with my mouth, but I don’t know what he actually likes, whether he likes it slow or fast, whether he really does prefer to get off as quickly as possible or whether he likes to draw it out like Cash does. It has always been about efficiency and show with us before. We’ve never had the chance to interact on our own.

Of course, we’re not on our own, and I’m reminded of that just moments later.

“Go down on him, Sascha,” Cash suggests, still playful. He glances at Sy. “He’s pretty amazing with his mouth.”

“I’d rather—” Sy starts, then clamps his mouth shut, looking down at the floor.

I work my way up, pausing with my hands pressed flat against his chest. “You’d rather what?” I press, eager to find out what he was about to say before he stopped himself.

He shakes his head.

“Sy…” I’m torn. Cash deserves to be here, he is our master, and he’s made it rather clear that he doesn’t want me and Sy hooking up alone. At the same time, I can’t help but think that Sy would be more comfortable if it was just the two of us. I don’t think it’s an option. “Sy, tell me what you want to do. I’m okay with it. Cash will be okay with it.”

Cash doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t correct me.

“You’ve done it enough times, Sascha,” Sy mumbles. “I’d rather return the favor.”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. He’s made the offer before, but I always thought it was a guilt thing. I’m still not entirely sure that it’s not a guilt thing, but I’m also not entirely sure that I care that much. I wait for him or Cash to make a move.

“Well, neither I or Sascha would be opposed to that, as far as I know,” Cash suggests.

“Do you want me to?” Sy asks me, looking nervous.

“Yeah,” I nod, wondering how it will feel. Cash is amazing at sucking cock, I wonder how Sy is. I want to find out.

Instead, we both sit there, awkwardly touching each other, neither one of us sure of what to do, or how to do it. The detention facility was easier in a way. I was on my knees, Sy was grabbing my hair and jerking me onto his cock. We had a script to follow. Now that we have choices and free will, it’s like we’re both unable to move.

“Sascha, come around here and lie on your back,” Cash orders, throwing a pillow at me.

Obediently, I move to where he points, positioning the pillow behind me so that I’m comfortable. It’s easier to not have a choice, even if I really do.

“Spread your legs, Sascha, unless you plan on having him suck on your knees instead,” Cash reaches over, giving my thigh a light slap that makes me jump and makes my cock harder.

He smirks at me before turning to Sy. “Now, Syrus, it’s time for you to see what it looks like when the boy begs.”

Sy looks uncertain for half a second, glancing back and forth between me and Cash. Finally, he seems satisfied that this is all in good fun. He moves over, positioning himself between my legs.

Once again, I’m surprised by how graceful he is, fitting between my legs smoothly and placing his hands lightly on my inner thighs. I tremble as I feel the warmth from his breath on my cock. His tongue touches the tip, tentative, and I make a little whimpering sound.

He takes it as a cue to wrap his lips around my cock, sucking slowly and sensually. It fits, for him, everything he does seems so deliberate, intentional and skillful. In the span of just a few minutes I’m panting, looking down at his head bobbing up and down on my cock. He trails one hand along the inside of my leg, stopping to caress my balls and rub my ass, never demanding, just exciting, tempting.

I respond by arching my back, curving my ass up so he has better access. He’s making my cock feel so good, I simply can’t wait to feel him inside of me, whether it’s his tongue, his fingers, or his cock.

With Sy I feel safe, comfortable. I know I can trust him, because I’ve really always been able to trust him; this won’t be anything different. I look down and see him peering up at me, a half-smile penetrated with my cock. I squirm, seeking more contact.

He’s skilled, using the tricks and tips that you rarely encounter outside of sex slaves; the artful twisting of the tongue, the use of the muscles deep in the throat to squeeze. For the first time, I can appreciate those skills instead of resenting them, and I can understand exactly why these skills were so important to train into us.

His hand replaces his mouth, and I thrust harder into it, knowing I won’t risk gagging him, and the moment I do, I cry out in absolute ecstasy as I feel his tongue sliding in, probing deep and opening me up, turning me on more. A finger joins his tongue, alternating as he slides in and out, and I press down hard, wanting more. It goes on forever, and I can feel myself growing more and more worked up. I want more; I want to feel him inside of me.

“Please,” I whimper, rutting up and down. “Please, Sy!”

He looks up at me, his face almost guilty with pleasure. He holds eye contact with me while he wriggles his finger inside of me, slides it out, then presses two fingers against my entrance.

A bottle of lube rolls over, as if created by my sheer desire, and I realize that Cash is there, silently watching.

Sy must realize it, too, because he freezes, looking uncertain again.

Cash sighs. “Don’t stop on my account. Do you think I gave you lube to stop you from fucking him?”

At the mention of being fucked, I moan, shuddering at how much I want this.

“Please, Sy,” I whimper again. “Please don’t stop!”

Sy hesitates for just a moment, glancing between me and our master, and then he continues, working his fingers inside of me carefully. His hands are bigger than Cash’s, and the feeling of being spread open by them makes me shudder. He keeps sucking my cock as he does, keeping me worked up, excited. I’m squirming and desperate, making pleas I can barely understand. All I want is to feel this way forever and to be fucked.

“Please, fuck me,” I beg, finally shameless enough to beg for it. “Please, god, please fuck me!”

Sy laughs, working me harder with his fingers, and Cash reaches over to touch my face. I struggle to increase skin contact with both of them.

“Who do you want to fuck you?” Cash asks, teasing my lips with his finger.

“Both of you,” I answer. It’s good that I don’t have time to think about it or feel ashamed.

Now it’s Cash’s turn to laugh, and as he does, he lets his finger dip into my mouth. I suck at it greedily. It’s not as good as someone fucking me, but I like the way it feels, like feeling him in my mouth while Sy is working my ass and cock.

“What do you think, Syrus?” Cash asks, the conversational tone getting me even hotter. “How should we take care of him?”

Sy pulls off my cock, resting his head on my thigh. I feel him tense. “As you think best, sir,” he says, so formal in contrast to the mood I thought we had established.

Cash frowns. “If it wasn’t in such poor taste, I’d smack you for that,” he muses, making no move to do so. I wonder if he’s this graceful with free people or if he just saves his social ineptness for slaves.

Sy doesn’t seem to take it as a threat, but he doesn’t respond.

“Sascha’s too worked up to make clear decisions, so I thought I’d let you choose,” Cash explains, working his fingers in and out of my mouth just as demandingly as he was before, almost making me choke when I get distracted. “I want to know what you’re comfortable with.”

Sy is quiet, unable to respond for the first time I can recall. His hand stills on my cock, and I worry that he’ll back out. I make a little whine of displeasure, twisting my hips at him.

“Sascha is enjoying you,” Cash states the obvious. “And I’m enjoying both of you. What about you? Is this good for you? I’m asking because I don’t know you that well. I want to make sure you have a good time.”

Sy is still quiet, looking more and more bothered.

“I won’t fuck you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Cash says calmly. “We’ve established that you don’t like that, and that’s fine. I was thinking perhaps you’d like to fuck Sascha while I use his mouth, or maybe the other way around. Or maybe you’d like to leave all together. That is an option, of course, although Sascha would whine and pout about it for days.”

I realize he’s making a joke, one in poor taste, and I bite down playfully on the three fingers he has in my mouth. He responds by gripping at my jaw with his thumb and pinky finger, nearly choking me as he pins my head in place. Sy notices, and he looks confused. It’s clear that my cock gives me away, because I feel it growing harder in Sy’s hand.

“So what will it be?” Cash asks, his voice low with danger and sexuality.

“I would like to fuck him,” Sy admits, for once lacking his armor of indifference and formality. Of course, he regains it a half-second later. “But is there anything I should do for you, master?”

Cash makes a noise of thinly veiled disgust. “You should refrain from calling me master while we’re in bed, and you should stop pretending that you wouldn’t resent the idea of servicing me,” he spits out, his tone sharp and reprimanding. “If you’re ever truly interested, you can say so, but I’m not so desperate as to force you to do something you don’t want.”

Sy blushes, and for a minute, I think he really might get up and leave. I struggle against Cash’s grip, bringing a hand up to detach his fingers from my mouth and throat. He complies, placing a possessive hand on my chest instead.

“Please stay,” I ask Sy, looking at him in desperation. “Please, I want to feel you fuck me. I’ve wanted to for weeks, since we were at the detention facility. I spent so many nights thinking of how it would feel, and I still wonder, and I want you. Don’t worry about Cash, if he says he doesn’t mind, he won’t. Sy, I want to feel you inside of me!”

Sy seems to think about it for a moment, lazily caressing my cock, keeping me hard. The son of a bitch seems to be as interested in tormenting me as Cash is, and I can’t seem to do anything to stop either one of them.

“Would it help if I left?” Cash offers, sounding regretful.

“You would do that?” Sy asks, surprised.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to,” Cash reminds him, sounding a little bitter. “But, yes, if I am really that much in the way, I’ll let you and Sascha be alone.”

I whine from underneath of them, too eager to feel them both touching me at once.

Cash smacks my chest lightly, making me all the more excited.

“Hush,” he warns, smiling at little. “If you’re still so needy after he finishes with you, I’ll come in and fuck you again after he’s done.”

I think of how it would feel, to already be spent and tired, and having Cash come and fuck me again. I know he wouldn’t take any mercy on me, just like he doesn’t take any mercy when he makes me come and continues to fuck me for a while. The thought of being taken twice in a row like that is exciting, but not nearly as exciting as having them both at the same time.

“I don’t mind if you’re here,” Sy says, finally. “Sascha seems to love it.”

“Yes,” Cash agrees. He pauses, waiting for a while before continuing to speak. “Why don’t you fuck him while I use his mouth?”