Dinner At Master L’s
Introduction:
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Oh, and this story is dedicated to PervertBiYoungGuy, who’s been a constant help and cheerful contributer to these stories. ^_^ Hope you enjoy, sweetie!
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The room was beautiful. Sweeping velvet curtains hung majestically over the windows, and a deep-pile crimson rug sprawled across the floor. An ornate table, the clawed feet scrolled and polished to a high sheen, dominated the room. A narrow velvet runner striped the flat tabletop, and the sturdy boards held up elegant, polished crystal. China plates of the finest quality held the markings of an feast – dabs of sauce, a neatly stripped chicken bone, a few crushed leaves of spinach. Flutes of champagne stood half full of pale liquid, but the drinks which held the attention of the two men sitting there were tumblers full of dusk-colored whiskey.
As it was, the room was the perfect backdrop to the two men sitting across from one another. One of them was a slender, lithe man with long black hair pulled sleekly back in a short, tight tail; hooded, deep-set eyes the color of a moonless night evaluated his partner with cool disdain. His suit was coiffed to perfection – pearl cufflinks caught the light and held it, gleaming wholesomely on his wrists. The dark black of his suit was unspotted and unstained by any wrinkle or blemish. Long, restless fingers tapped silently on the table as he kept his unwavering gaze on the larger, more muscular man sitting across from him.
The other man was just more. Bigger and stronger and wider, with rugged powerful shoulders and a slightly tapered waist. Where his partner was elegant and refined, there was still a hint of countryside in the older man’s face – the lines around his eyes seemed not from age, but from squinting into the sunlight. There was an honest, open quality about his straight profile, and his eyes were a rich, stormy blue. Unlike the slenderer man across from him, he wore no suit but simple a white dress shirt, rolled up to the elbow, and dress pants, neatly ironed. His hair was golden brown, with a slight curl to the ends, and a fringe of it hung in his dark eyes.
“So,” The younger man said, breaking the silence. “I really must thank you, Master L, for such a wonderful meal.” There was a soft, dangerous edge to his voice, like a sedate panther just daring you to strike.
“You should thank Clara, she’s in charge of the meals,” Master L answered, his voice a rough, deep growl with more than a twist of an Irish bass rumbling along his words. “Still can’t find my way around the kitchens.”
“Your household is rather comfortable,” The dark-haired man said, raising an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. “Your slave – she gives you no trouble, then?”
“Who, Clara?” Master L laughed. “No. That old girl quit fighting me years ago. She was quite the ticket a while ago, wasn’t she? No, I get no trouble from my wares. I don’t like them to fight me.”
The other Master raised both eyebrows, clearly disagreeing but saying nothing. “Your methods were always so controversial,” He said, with a nip of a feline laugh along the last few syllables.
“And yet, I’m always the one with the best behaved slaves at the Convention each year,” Master L pointed out. He leaned back in his chair, peering over his tumbler at his dinner companion. “Come now, Xavier, tell me what it is you really wanted. You didn’t come all the way to Dublin just to criticize my household, did you? If you say yes, I will be very disappointed.”
“On the contrary, Master L,” Xavier answered, tightening his lips subtly, “I came here for assistance.” He paused, letting the words sink in and allowing his annoyance to simmer off. It was Master L’s house, and he couldn’t protest the use of his first name. It was common courtesy among Masters to address each other with their proper title – Apprentice, Master, Grand Master, and so on.
“Oh? Another girl giving you trouble? I’m honored you didn’t just pick up the phone, Xavier,” Master L said, ruffling his big hands through his curly hair.
“No,” Xavier said softly. “No, I’m training a young one for the Convention this year and I want to see what you think of him.”
“You’re entering this year? Good for you,” Master L said lightly. “It’s about time – you’ve been purchasing up half the breeding stock on both sides of the Atlantic.” A quick, easy grin flickered up the side of his face. “Well, bring him in, I’ll take a look at him.”
Xavier turned slightly, snapping his fingers. A young, slender girl with long black hair disappeared around the corner, hurrying to the front door to bring her Master’s present. She was perhaps fourteen or fifteen years old, with sweet, rounded curves and a heart-shaped face. She was French, and four months pregnant.
The silence stretched for no more than thirty seconds before the front door thudded shut, and the girl came back around the corner. This time, there was a young boy on a leash next to her, his hands bound behind his back and a ball gag pried between his teeth. There was a wild, rambunctious look in his fearless green eyes, and messy red hair hung in a curtain around his ears. The girl bowed slightly and melted back into the shadows, leaving the new slave with his Master. Xavier got up, tugged on the lead, and brought him in front of Master L. After a meaningful glance from his Master, the boy reluctantly dropped to his knees.
Master L got up slowly, circling the new slave, and turned his head to one side. “He’s good,” He said thoughtfully, after a moment. He examined the lean, muscular frame, the rounded ass which seemed quite perky, and the mop of red hair. “He’s a redhead, that’ll fetch a few,” He continued, musing. “And he’s got a pretty face. Does he give you any trouble?”
“You have no idea,” Xavier said quietly. “He’s tried to escape twice, but he’s one of the best trainees I’ve had. Tight, sweet, and can last for hours. He’s a bit of a screamer, too, some breeders like that. His pain tolerance is off the charts. I’m very impressed with him, but he’s too spirited to put in the Intermediate class. They won’t buy him.”
“You’d be surprised,” Master L said, passing his fingers through the boy’s red hair. “Master J, he’s a kinky old bastard – he likes boys with a bit of a spark to them. And Mistress V, she likes her boys randy and frisky. What’s his training been like?”
“Two hours in the stocks, every morning,” Xavier said, ticking it off on his elegant fingers, “Followed by the bead treatment, and then a vibrator in his ass for at least three hours. He can’t come during that entire time, or he’s whipped with a cat’o’nine. Afterwards, he’s strung to the ceiling, minimum three inches off the floor, and paddled fifty times, nothing extreme. I’ve started expanding into shock treatments, just light pulses, nothing major. Nipple clamps, of course, every evening, and at night he’s fucked by either me or one of my Apprentices. He‘s got a seven inch dildo in his ass for at least six hours a night. Usually all night, though.”
Master L shrugged his wide shoulders. “No wonder he’s giving your trouble,” He noted, “A boy with spirit isn’t going to break under that. Now, I’ll show you what I’m entering in the Convention this year,” He said, with more than a touch of pride. “Clara!” He shouted, “Bring down Jack for me, will you?”
“Yes, Sir,” She called back, and the two Masters heard the light tread of Clara going up the stairs. Within seconds, she had returned at the door with a young, delicate boy no more than fifteen, with short cropped blonde hair and full lips. He stood shyly in the doorway, large, glittering brown eyes down turned. He had one of those curvy, nearly feminine bodies with just enough muscle build to keep men interested. He wore a loose fitting white nightshirt which ended at mid thigh, and his hands were handcuffed behind his back. A black leather collar with a clip on it was settled snugly around his white, creamy neck.
“Now, this is a thing of beauty,” Master L said reverently. “Pet, come here,” He ordered, and the boy instantly came over and dropped to his knees. “That’s a good boy,” Master L crooned, stroking the boy’s blonde hair like one would a cats’.
“Very nice,” Xavier said, obviously impressed. “You’ll take the class with him, and sell him for a pretty penny. What was his training, if I may be so bold?”
“I got him young,” Master L said, “So I started him easy, just stocks and paddling, much like you. Then I upgraded him to the stretcher – that machine is worth its weight in gold. It’s a beautiful thing, really, having a young boy all stretched out and available like that. At any rate, I began using the dogs. Yes, the dogs,” He smiled at Xavier’s look of surprise. “Two Great Danes slamming into a young boy, its magnificent. After about two weeks of that, I started hooking him up to jumper cables, jolting him once every ten seconds for about forty minutes. Anything after that, and he’ll get numb. Then, of course, there’s the usual striping – don’t whip them too much, the judges take marks off for scars and open skin – but if you skip the flogging, they’ll lose all respect. Do you have any cock gags?” He asked, flicking the ball gag in the young slave’s mouth.
“Yes, of course I do,” Xavier said smoothly.
“Good, start using them all the time. He’s got to get used to a cock shoved down his throat at any moment. And it’s a good thing you’ve been fucking him, because young boys get banged a lot. I’d suggest using the saw horses, it puts the arse at just the right angle. Make sure he knows how to please a woman – there’s a lot of Mistresses in this business now, and they don’t like having to train their boys. Oh, and make sure you dress him in something masculine for the Convention – something that rips easily. It’s always dramatic, ripping it off and letting the crowd see his whole body at once.”
Xavier nodded, and then glanced down at the young blonde boy. “How long have you been working on him?” He asked.
“Two years,” Master L answered. “I’d offer him to you, but I’m saving him for the judges at Convention.”
“Yes,” Xavier mused. “Well, you don’t know how much of a help you’ve been, Master L,” Xavier said politely. “May I take a tour of your facilities while I am here in Dublin?”
“Clara can show you around,” Master L said easily, “She knows her way best around the dungeons. I’m not in the dungeons much, just in the training chambers. Oh, and Xavier?” He said, looking over his shoulder.
“Yes, Master L?” Xavier said politely.
“Mind your manners. Touch my stock, and I will have your balls cut off and mailed to you. All right?” Master L said, a dark note in his rumbling bass. “Jack, come on,” He said, and jerked his chin towards the stairs. “I’m going to turn in, I’ve got a long day ahead of me tomorrow.”
Xavier followed Clara and another young girl down the stairs to the dungeons, where Master L trained his slaves.
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“Come here, pet.”
The young blonde boy quivered at the possessive note in his Master’s rich growl. The bedroom was mostly dark, due to the thick curtains and low lighting, but he could still make out the shadowy outline of his Master’s powerful frame. So many times he had felt that body above him, had felt that thick cock in him, and now he craved his Master’s touch more than anything. There had been another breeder here, and he had been paraded out again – not that he minded. He would do anything for his Master. But he didn’t like thinking about the Convention; that was the place where slaves went to be sold. He knew he was a slave, unworthy of his Master’s affections, but he wished desperately to stay with his Master. Forever.
He crawled onto the large mattress, the comfortable blankets and lush pillows calling to him. The canopied bed had large hangings which his Master promptly shut, and Jack lay down obediently, spreading his arms and legs. His Master was propped on his elbow next to him, and Jack shuddered in delight at the big, calloused fingers which brushed his abdomen lightly, teasing the pale stripe of hair which led from his navel to his cock. “You didn’t like being shown off to Master X today, did you?” His Master purred in his ear. “Tell the truth, pet.”
“No,” He whispered, arching against his Master’s touch, and fisting the sheets. “No, I’m sorry Master, I truly am!”
“Shh,” His Master soothed, stroking his inner thigh with his rough hand. His touches were gentle despite his calloused grip. “Do you know what Master X would like to do? He’d like to abuse your body in all sorts of ways – tied to the wall, over a sawhorse, pounding into your beautiful little arse all day. He’d like to torture you, put needles through your nipples and flay your cock, ram twelve inch dildos up your arse. Oh, he’d like to do all that and more, but he won’t. Nobody will, nobody but me, because do you know why?”
“Why?” Jack whispered, his voice ragged. His Master’s big hand descended on his cock, wrapping around the shaft and pulling on it lightly.
“Because you are mine, pet, and the only one who can use your body is me.” Master L snarled, and dropped his head to Jack’s chest. The young boy moaned as his Master nipped teasingly at his nipple, sucking on it gently, flicking at it with his tongue. The beautiful boy squirmed deliciously underneath him, and then Master L paused his affections. “Come on, pet, show me how much you want to stay with me,” He whispered in his slave’s ear, releasing him from his order of stillness.
Instantly, Jack was on him, small hands stroking and rosebud mouth licking a trail to his Master’s cock. He wanted his Master’s cock in him so very badly, so very hard, but he wanted to taste his Master first. Jack loved it when his Master allowed him to take control like this, give him a little taste of freedom, allowed him to explore his body and taste every inch of him. Normally, Jack would love to spend hours mouthing every square centimeter of his Master’s rugged, muscular body, do things with his mouth and tongue which would make his Master groan and reach for his head, slamming him harder into his groin. But tonight, Jack wanted him badly, wanted his Master to take him hard and fast and ruthlessly.
He sucked hard on his Master’s cock, tilting his head slightly and humming to add extra friction, hollowing his cheeks and suckling. He had been taught how to give good blowjobs, and he used every skill he had to make his Master give those delightfully hoarse, raspy breaths, to feel his Master’s big hands cradle his head and grunt a little. Jack’s small hands found his balls, and he began to squeeze them lightly, fondling them and pausing his ministrations every so often to drop a loving kiss on them. He had been trained well – within moments, Master L had jerked him upwards, thick fingers weaving through his hair. “I’ll be damned,” He panted, “You’ve been trained well, haven’t you?”
Jack arched his back like a cat, liking the feel of his Master skimming his fingers along his spine. It was high praise, coming from his Master, and Jack reveled in it. He barely had time to rejoice, however, before Master L had seized his small body by the hips, dragging him closer to him. “Stay still,” His Master growled, and Jack felt a rough finger enter his ass. He mewled and drew his knees higher to his chest, exposing himself even further for his Master’s wishes. It wasn’t long before Master L had three fingers in him, stretching and scissoring his tight, youthful ass, and Jack was making soft whimpering noises, biting deeply into his lower lip to keep from yelping in pleasure when his Master hit that particular spot.
When Master L had enough, he hooked an elbow around Jack’s waist and dragged him across his lap, spreading his legs and easing him onto his cock. He hissed a breath between his teeth, big hands gripping his slave’s narrow hips and tried to get a control over his mind as the hot, incredible tightness enveloped him. Whenever Jack was in the training chambers, they fucked. Whenever they were here…Master L wasn’t sure what it was. It was just more, somehow. Deeper and tighter and hotter, with more emotion behind it. They stopped being Master and Slave here, more like lovers.
However, he quit thinking when Jack twisted instinctively and clamped down hard, slamming back against Master L with all the force in his slim body. Master L growled, baring his teeth, and thrust up against Jack, their rhythm synching up, both of them finding that unique pleasure point which sent sizzling shockwaves throughout every nerve of their bodies. He sank his teeth into Jack’s shoulder, tasting the sweat on his skin, and his nails began to dig into Jack’s hips. The young blonde began keening slightly, head becoming dizzy from the thunder scorching heatedly through his body.
It was over before it had even fully begun, the two of them far too high strung and horny for it to last long. Master L pounded Jack once, twice more and then slowed down, breathing hard. Jack was making breathy little noises, and his Master seemed to realize that his slave hadn’t achieved his climax yes. “Master…” Jack begged. “Master, please!”
“What do you want?” Master L rumbled, his head clearing from his euphoria. “Mm? Tell me.”
“Please, Master, may I touch myself?” Jack whispered, writhing in the sheets, trembling from the frustration and pleasure.
“You may not,” Master L said gruffly. Jack tried not to whine, but he screamed aloud when he felt his Master’s wet mouth slicking up his young cock. He engulfed the entire length, sucking hard on his slave’s cock, and Jack saw a sheet of blinding white as he came in his Master’s mouth. It was forbidden, it was taboo, a Master wasn’t supposed to do that – but oh, fuck, he was glad that he did! Jack twisted his fingers through his Master’s curly hair, breathing hard, heart hammering a thousand miles an hour. Gentle butterfly kisses danced along his stomach, and he quivered, barely holding onto his awareness.
“M – Master, thank you,” Jack sobbed, and buried his face in his Master’s chest. Master L felt oddly protective as he stroked his pet’s hair, nibbling the curve of his ear and allowing him to remain in the bed. It was against protocol, he knew – everything they had just done was against the Master-Slave regulations. But damn, they fit together perfectly, their curves and ridges aligning. There would come a day when Jack would tire of him, and either grow cold or try to escape. He knew he didn’t have long before his more mature years brought sense and wisdom, and he knew he had to savor these brief moments they had together.
Protocol could go fuck itself, as far as Master L was concerned.
He made up his mind just then not to bring Jack to the Convention. He was staying right here, with him, for at least a little while longer.
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