Sex in C Major

The ankle cuffs were heavy. And when Stefan looked over his shoulder, the chain that joined them was short.

"Sir?"

"So you can make yourself useful, but you can't run."

"I won't run, Sir."

"You might."

The leather strap was released, both from the collar and the bed, but Stefan didn't move until Daz nodded towards the door.

"Downstairs,” he said. "Sit yourself on the rug in front of the sofa. You're going to watch some TV with me."

Stefan sensed a trap, but headed downstairs anyway. Yannis was working at the piano, apparently composing, and ignored him. Stefan hesitated, then decided to ignore him in return, and sank down onto the rug. He decided to kneel-slaves knelt, right?—but was pushed to sit sideways when Daz came down.

Then his master sat on the sofa, and switched the TV on.

Yannis, without missing a beat, put a pair of noise-cancelling headphones on, and from the very first image on the screen-a woman in a schoolgirl uniform and enormous high-heels walking through a wooded area where no such attire would legitimately be worn-told Stefan why.

Porn.

"Watch," Daz chided when Stefan glanced up at him.

Stefan swallowed, and watched. His mouth felt dry as the girl was snatched. She screamed and struggled, but there were two men, not one. They pulled at her blouse, and tied her hands with her school tie. Tore off her bra, lifted her skirt, and pulled down her thong. Gagged her with it-and at the sight of the red lace between her teeth, Stefan's dick began to swell. He could imagine the feel of it, stiff and scratchy on the tongue. He wouldn't be able to focus enough to get it out, not with two men biting at his tits and fingering him, holding his legs open, and-

The actress yowled when the first man began to fuck her. He had a huge cock, ten inches long if not more. Stefan whined, clenching his fists into the rug. That would hurt. The guy was fucking hard-not for pleasure, not for sensuality, but to hurt. To punish. To use her. It would hurt so bad, be so degrading-

His fingers itched. His dick was swollen and painful.

But if he tried to touch himself...

Stefan twisted around, and fumbled with his master's zipper. Daz's cock was soft and heavy as Stefan drew it out, and Stefan licked his palm before beginning to massage the softness away. It swelled and grew in his hands. Dangerous. As it strengthened, Stefan leaned forward and began to suck at the head, pumping faster as the woman on the TV behind him had her gag removed and began to scream in earnest. He didn't speak her language, but she was begging. And Stefan would beg, too—but for more. If Daz dragged him in off the streets, Stefan would beg to be hurt, to be branded, to be fucked deeper and harder, to be punished and kept and punished again...

He spread his palms on Daz's thigh and began to swallow his master's cock down deep, rubbing his lips along the shaft as though he could gather Daz's very essence and live from it. And it was distracting. The feel of dick in his mouth still so alien that the TV dulled in the background. Stefan could hear his own pulse louder. Hear the obscene sucking noise of his own mouth. Hear his master's grunt, and deep, raking breaths as Stefan rubbed his tongue up the underside of the shaft. Smell hot skin and sex and nothing else he was surrounded by his master, was nothing but a mouth on his master's cock, had no purpose but to service him...

His hair was yanked. He was pulled away. His head held still, inches from that cock that ruled his life now-and Stefan reached, pumping the swollen flesh.

"Fuck!"

His master shouted. Cum splattered Stefan's face, hot and filthy. His face was cupped in two hands, and thumbs swiped over it. Cum pushed into his mouth. Stefan relaxed, and sucked those intruding digits clean.

His dick ached for release, but he waited. Waited. Clutched at his master's jeans and licked cum from his thumbs, and waited.

"You're learning. Very good," his master murmured. "I think we'll test you tonight."

Stefan blinked, a little of the haze dissipating.

"We?"

"We."

He wasn't allowed to touch his master's cock again for the rest of the day.

He was made to sit and watch the porn collection from beginning to end, aching and miserable in the belt-but Stefan determinedly fisted his hands into the rug and didn't touch himself, despite the urge. He would be tested. And he would pass. He didn't know why it was so important, but it was.