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“Ah, yes. A bond has been forged, “ Master Séverin says, pleasure in his voice. “Now stroke her fur and she’ll stay with you a while.”
Again, I do as he says, sweeping my hand down her smooth back, and the cat begins to purr. I never knew the sensation could be so comforting. It makes me wonder what else I’ve missed in life.
“While we wait for dinner, tell us more about your mother, and the way you grew up. Yes, I understand it’s difficult to talk about, but we are to have some difficult discussions, the three of us.”
I nod, but then take a few moments to gather my thoughts. He’s right—I don’t like to talk about my childhood, and rarely have before. But these are my Masters, and not only people I obey, but people I have love for. I take a breath.
“Well… it’s not the most cheerful story. But I know you want me to be honest. I was raised in the dark underbelly of Hollywood. I don’t mean to be dramatic. It simply was what it was. Street prostitutes. Junkies. People looking for a cheap thrill, and there were plenty to be had.
“And my mother…she sometimes made some cash working as a stripper, but then she’d get too high and nod out, and miss her shift. There are only so many strip clubs, even in a place like Hollywood, and eventually she’d been fired from them all. So, then she started turning the occasional trick, sometimes in our apartment.” I look down at Mouse, taking some comfort from her purring.
I look up at them again before I speak. “She was beautiful, my mother. And intelligent. She was oddly well-read, given the way we lived. She knew classic literature, loved to watch old black-and-white movies on our shitty, ancient television. Citizen Cain was a favorite, and she loved Hitchcock movies. Looking back, I realize she could have been anything if she hadn’t been an addict. But she’s long dead, so that’s neither here nor there now.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Master Erek asks. “It’s part of what shaped you. Do you have any good memories of her?”
“I do, although I don’t think of them as often as the bad. But…yes. She read to me sometimes, and when she did it was books like Dickens, or even Shakespeare. But my favorite was Robinson Crusoe.”
“That was mine, too, when I was a boy,” Master Erek says. “What did you love about it?”
“I suppose I related to his loneliness,” I answer truthfully, looking down again at Mouse in my lap. “My childhood was so, so lonely. I wasn’t one of those kids who could bring a friend home from school, and so I had very few friends. I was on my own, mostly, other than those rare moments my mother and I shared.”
“I’m sorry,” Master Séverin says.
“No, it’s fine. It is. I’m fine. And I need to say, this is not why I was drawn to kink. I don’t understand why people think we just use it to heal ourselves. Or that it’s something we need to be healed from.”
“But I do think we use it to heal our wounds,” Master Séverin says. “It’s healed me of so much. So much I didn’t think I could bear. I don’t need my sadism to be fixed—I agree with you there. But it is absolutely catharsis for many of us. It’s a release from whatever is weighing on us. Now, lift Mouse from your lap and come climb over mine.”
This is so much more comfortable for me, and my mind shifts gears, from a girl who can have a philosophical conversation to a Girl who serves.
When I lie face down over his lap, he slides the silky robe up and immediately starts a hard, bare-handed spanking. And in moments I sink into the pain, my brain and my body filling up with the lovely endorphins, and my mind settling into my role.
I feel Master Erek as he settles onto the white leather next to Master Séverin, and he slips a hand under me and pulls my tit from the robe. As he begins to tug and pinch my nipple, a small sigh escapes me, and I writhe against Master Séverin’s hardening cock.
Without even speaking, the two of them shift on the couch, until I’m sitting on Master Erek’s lap, my back to him, and he’s pulled his thick cock from his trousers. He reaches under me to swipe at my soaking pussy, then wipes the wetness onto my asshole. I take a breath and force myself to relax as the head of his cock nudges me. Then he rams it in, and I sigh in pleasure, in pleasure that is pain. Pain that is pleasure. Is there really any difference anymore?
Once he’s buried deep in my ass, he parts my legs, opening them wide, and Master Séverin pulls an ottoman over to sit on, right between my spread thighs, and as he plays with my clit, Master Erek begins to arch up into me.
Pleasure builds so quickly, I’m breathless. Then my darling Master Séverin shoves his fingers into my needy cunt, and I explode without warning. I’m overcome with horror even as I shudder with pleasure.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, my Masters. I’m so sorry.”
They both laugh, and I’m relieved. For the moment, anyway. I’m certain I will be punished at some point.
“Master?” I ask Master Séverin, eyeing the bulge in his trousers. “Is there anything I can do for you? Please?”
He pauses for only a moment, then gives a nod of his head and stands before me.
Master Erek groans and pushes up into my ass, and I sigh happily. I wait as Master Séverin unzips, then pulls his long, beautiful cock out and presses it to my lips. I breathe softly on the head, dart my tongue out to taste his hardening flesh, and he moans quietly. Encouraged, I lick the shaft from bottom to top, then, taking the length of it in my hand, I wrap my lips around the tip and swallow him down.
“Yes…” he murmurs, urging me on.
As I begin to work his cock with my mouth, Master Erek starts pumping, his thick cock filling my ass, leaving my pussy too empty, but I suspect I’ll come anyway, if they allow me to. He feels too good, thrusting into my asshole, and with Master Séverin’s gorgeous dick in my mouth as he begins to really face-fuck me, I am in heaven.
I gag and sputter, but Master Séverin rams even harder, and just as I begin to choke out, he withdraws, letting me breathe. As he presses his cock back into my mouth, Master Erek wraps my face in his big hand, wiping my tears with his thumb.
“Yes, Mina girl. Cry for us,” he says.
We all know, I’m certain, that my tears are from being choked out with cock, but it doesn’t matter. It seems to make him happy, anyway.
