Flashback to the Playroom
Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all my American friends. For today’s treat, we’re looking back to a small morsel of a wicked scene from Dominus, Book 1, Chapter 12. Back to Gaius’s villa playroom.
With an early sketch of a draft of this scene by Fiona Fu. I added Alle’s beard during a later edit.
Oh, how far our dear Gaius and Allerix have come! 😀
As he stood there and studied his raven-haired purchase bound to the ceiling in his playroom, Gaius’s freckled skin flushed and his cock throbbed with arousal. The blindfolded Dacian inhaled and exhaled through parted lips. After every third or fourth rapid breath, his luscious mouth quivered, his rosy lips framed by that black scruffy beard. Gaius stepped closer and reached his right hand around the boy’s slender waist, running his palm over the curve of his bare arse, and fingered the cleft between his damp, tensed cheeks.
The barbarian swallowed, but made no sound.
After slowly removing his hand from the lad’s crack, Gaius brushed his knuckles under his slave tunic and over the smooth skin of his stomach, tracing the line of soft black hair traveling from his navel to his groin. He stroked the barbarian’s thickening cock before cupping the Dacian’s supple sac with his other palm. His new trophy gasped softly, but didn’t move a muscle.
“I paid that sniveling Egyptian dealer a foolish amount of silver for an unsullied arse. Are you a virgin, căţel?” Gaius’s tone dripped with amusement.
“You wasted your coin, asasinule.” The Dacian spat back with a sneer, his teeth clenched in terrified rage. Sprawled out on the mattress, Nic instinctively flinched as if he were the one about to be hit. But Gaius didn’t backhand the arrogant beast across the face; he chuckled and leaned in closer.
“Trust me. I’ll recover my investment tenfold, one way or another.” Gaius tightened his grip on the Dacian’s balls as the words rolled off his sharp tongue like thick syrup. “Now open your mouth for your murderer of a master.”
Gaius traced his fingertip over the full mounds of the boy’s lips before he slipped two thick fingers, still a tad sticky from Nic’s salty release, into the Dacian’s snarling mouth. When Gaius felt teeth graze his skin, he squeezed his balls hard and warned. “Do not fucking bite me. Open wider.”
The beauty pursed and then separated his lips; Gaius pushed his fingers until they bumped against the back of the lad’s throat.
“Suck my fingers clean. Show me what you can do, besides cocking up a simple escape.”