The Slave Harem: A Kingdom of Slaves Book Page 11

  Zanti pushed himself up on his hands and knees, and Aaron kept his cheeks pulled apart, displaying Zanti to the onlookers: Ren, Aiden, Finn and the grooms. And to the cameras in the room. Aaron licked him up and down, from balls to hole, wetting the skin there. Then finally thrusting his tongue in and out of the little hole which had now turned pink and flexed against the onslaught of pleasure.

  Zanti squirmed.

  Master continued the story. “Zanti presented himself to Count Aaron for anything the count might like, but he still did not show any prelude to orgasm. He was stone. A man waiting for some unknown miracle no one, perhaps not even Zanti himself, had any clue of.”

  Parts of the story had wildly poetic phrases like the fact that Zanti’s skin gave off a sweet fragrance like a summer wind. And that to touch him was like touching silk stretched across hard marble. The youthfulness of Zanti, and the suppleness of him, was described over and over. His nipples, his thighs, his sweet buttocks all soft and hard in just the right places, and completely shaved, no hair down there, nothing to get in the way of naked, arousing, exposed flesh.

  Ren thought the count would mount Zanti, who offered himself and his hole with lots of squirms and wiggles, but Master’s story wanted Aaron’s lips on Zanti’s cock again, so Aaron had to turn him over and obey.

  Aaron laved that lovely cock without sucking for a long time, edging Zanti, clearly challenging his control. Zanti did not get hard.

  Ren’s cock cage was tight as it forced his own arousal down. His balls began a faint ache. He told himself it was the story that aroused him, not Zanti. But it was a lie. Zanti and his behavior was more physically appealing than anyone Ren had ever seen.

  When the story finally got around to Aaron sucking Zanti off, he did not hold back. He suckled and stroked with his lips and tongue with great enthusiasm, taking Zanti deep into his throat and swallowing. After all this, it should be enough to get any man off, Ren thought, but Zanti managed to hold off. Maybe over-stimulation kept him on the edge, or maybe Zanti was that well-trained. Again, he could not know. But he did note that Zanti’s cock was pinker now, and bigger. Who could resist such a good sucking?

  Ren knew nothing about him, or any of the men in the harem for that matter, except Li Po who’d told him some of his back story. If they were used to performing, then holding back until Master ordered them to come would be ideal. They would be good at it, or they wouldn’t be here.

  Ren suddenly worried he would not be as good.

  Master’s beautiful, but somewhat mechanical voice hummed along with the words. “Count Aaron sucked Zanti’s thick, pink cock for hours, it seemed, and nothing happened. Maybe he thought he felt a twitch, or sensed a pulse, and the cock became longer by some measure, but never quite fully hard, never erect to the edge of orgasm.”

  Zanti’s cock swayed in Aaron’s grip, thick and long, the tip swollen and flushed and wet with saliva.

  “Finally the count grew impatient, flipped Zanti over, and oiled his hole. With his finger he found the internal mound of nerves that sent men over the edge of pleasure and into whole new worlds of delight. He milked him there, and with his hand on Zanti’s cock, then replaced his fingers with his own cock.

  “The count, aroused from his hours of ministrations to Zanti, was ready to fuck, but still he took it slow, trying to bring any response from Zanti through their joining. But Zanti was cold as the northern sea. Frustrated, the count fucked Zanti harder, with force, smacking his hips hard against Zanti’s backside.”

  Aaron obeyed. His hard cock withdrew, then re-entered Zanti’s spread and welcoming hole with more force. Zanti was gorgeous splayed like that, hips thrust up, teasing. Ren could barely breathe to look at him. Aaron grasped Zanti’s hips to hold him in place and began powerful thrusts that knocked Zanti back and forth.

  Zanti opened his mouth and let out wordless grunts of air. His hair fell forward and over his face. He lost his balance a few times and slammed his face and chest into the mattress as Aaron pushed in and out of him, eyes closed, face flushed. Sweat rolled in crystal beads down Aaron’s face.

  Cam had indeed lied. Aaron had great talent in bed. He was fantastic at following orders.

  As Master spoke the words, “The count came hard inside Zanti,” Aaron cried out, pounding harder, then pulled his still twitching cock from Zanti’s ass to prove to the audience and cameras he was coming. To give a show.

  White liquid shot from the tip of his cock and all over Zanti’s back as Aaron stroked himself to completion, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes shut tight.

  Aaron, just then, was the essence of youthful beauty, his sculptured body perfect, his cock stiff and jutting out from his body, producing the essence of ecstasy. His buttocks clenched, the muscles rippling under his skin, the dimples above them deepening.

  Ren gasped. It might not be literature they were enacting, or any sort of classic, but it was beautiful just the same.

  “The count fell breathless across Zanti’s body.”

  Aaron fell against Zanti’s back, embracing him tightly. Ren could not see if Zanti had come, but he thought not. Aaron’s aura had brightened, the pink fluorescent bright, with zigzags of white and red flashing. But Zanti’s was still silver-gray with only flickers of pale white at the edges.

  “Next, the count’s assistant came into the room to offer water.”

  A groom pointed to Finn, who got up and, taking direction like a pro, brought a pitcher of water and cups to the bedside table.

  “The count, exhausted but still wanting to see his newly acquired treasure, bought and paid for, owned by him, show some sort of response—any would do—then ordered his lovely assistant named Finn to spread Zanti’s legs and give his cock a good, inspired suck. Finn was known far and wide for his expertise in deep throating, for taking cocks of any size and milking them with his talented mouth until they spilled all their essence into him. He hungered for men’s essences. He thirsted for the white milk and would suck cocks daily to get his craving filled.”

  Finn bent before Zanti and teased his cock. Zanti was barely half-erect, so Ren knew that, incredibly, he had not yet come. His control should be rewarded.

  After a while, the story moved along. Zanti still did not come and the count decided Finn should fuck Zanti.

  And so it went until Finn came in long, hard spurts on Zanti’s back, after fucking his loosened hole, and Aiden took his place, trying his best to make a frigid man come.

  Ren watched and waited. Would his turn come? What would be expected of him?

  Zanti did not seem to suffer, nor did he tire. Nor did he come. He seemed to love all of the attention, bucking at times, panting as if in pleasure.

  Finally, the story took a turn and mentioned Ren’s name.

  “The last servant, a lad from a hidden room in the attic, kept from the world, was beckoned. The lad wore a mask and cage on his cock, for his virginity was being protected, saved for a special moment, Ren was ripe and ready. The count collected virgins for himself, so it was odd that he used this virgin not for himself, but through utter frustration and desperation, to try to get a rise out of his handsome, newly bought boy.

  “Little did any of the men in the room know, though the count had observed Ren and suspected, that Ren was special. Not only was Ren a virgin, but he could see colors on people, colors of pleasure that left trails on the skin that led him to know exactly where to touch, and at which precise moment, to give the ultimate experience of ecstasy in sexual gratification. Ren didn’t even know it himself until he came into the room and saw Zanti, and touched him, and that was when he understood. That was when he knew he could bring this boy an orgasm the likes of which he’d never known.”

  Ren startled at the revelation of his true gift to the others. But they didn’t react as if it were strange. They all thought it was still a fiction. All but Zanti whose brows rose. His head tilted and his mouth opened in surprise. Ren noticed, though no one else seemed to, Zanti move back a little on the
bed.

  “The count slowly and tenderly removed the cock cage from Ren’s aching cock.”

  Zanti took a deep breath and held it, glowering now.

  Ren took it all in stride. He told himself Zanti was acting. It made the story more interesting if he continued to withhold his pleasure.

  Ren was hard now, after watching all the others follow Master’s orders and make love to Zanti. This was for Master. This was ordered. Even if Zanti hated him, Ren would make Zanti feel good. He would be gentle and kind. And he was getting into the story. Role play was fine with him, he simply had never imagined it would be with anyone other than his new master. He had only ever thought as far as that. How could he have been so naïve?

  Zanti sat up and continued to watch Ren, dark eyes bright and languid at the same time.

  Through his limited vision, the eye-holes of the mask obscuring all but what was straight in front of him, Ren tilted his head down to look at Aaron. Aaron was also frowning, his mouth half-curved into what was more grimace than smile.

  Finn and Aiden were standing by the side of the bed, both sated, their cocks at rest, but they were staring straight at Ren with no smiles, and gazes steady enough to be almost unnerving.

  Ren stepped forward. They were emotionless because he was new. That was all. They had never seen him perform. They were perhaps proprietary toward each other after living in close confines for years.

  He tilted his head back, trying to see their auras. Darkened around the edges, all of them. Anger? But that could not be it for he had done nothing wrong, and nothing at all to them. He felt quite suddenly like little more than prey.

  Master’s voice commanded him through the narration of the story.

  “Ren, the virgin, came into the room ready to give himself for his first time to a man who could not be moved. The count ordered Ren to approach the bed.

  “Ren wore a mask and this, along with the cock cage he had worn for so long, had inspired gossip all around the estate that night by everyone who worked for the count and had seen Ren emerge from the locked space upstairs. People suspected Ren had been bought as a toy. But he had never seen any action. No one knew why, nor the reason their master hid him from view and kept his chastity intact, never touching the boy himself.

  “But now, uncaged, he stood before the bed, looking through his mask at Zanti. Ren was naked and untouched, unsure what to do, unsure what the count expected of him.

  “The count said, ‘You will offer yourself to this boy. You will climb through his invisible barriers and re-start his heart. Do you understand?’”

  Zanti scowled. Ren tensed.

  Master continued. “Ren shook his head. He did not understand at all. He lived in an attic. He was a virgin. But the count ordered him to climb onto the bed and begin to caress Zanti’s face, then his arms and chest.”

  Obedient, Ren moved onto the mattress on his knees, and bent to his ordered task. At first he felt awkward. The mask was in the way of his view. But Zanti, still sitting up, remained still, body taut.

  Ren could not see the usual lights on the skin of his partner. But to the touch, Zanti’s skin was smooth as new leaves, baby soft, the muscles of his arms and chest gently curved in all the right places. A pretty boy with a delicate beauty like lace, like clouds. He looked fragile, but he was anything but. He was wiry and wound tight. Lace did not give way easily, and clouds brought storms. Ren could see it on his skin the mask eye-holes revealed to him as slowly, almost too slowly, the colors of passion he was used to seeing finally began to simmer on the surfaces of Zanti’s body.

  Zanti had already been played with by three men, fucked and sucked until he was almost bored, yet still half-aroused. Like the story, Zanti need more. The over-stimulation, the edging, the strict admonition not to come as Master’s story unfolded, had actually made the man withdrawn. This was Ren’s test. He could tell. Zanti would play his role and not make it easy. The character of Zanti in the story was closed to emotion. In real life, Ren guessed Zanti might be jaded about the harem after so many years. All the men might be jaded.

  Was that why Ren saw dark streaks of color across Zanti’s body, instead of flickering, more colorful light like he’d seen in the wash room when they were all getting ready for Master? Was that why he seemed to glare at Ren? Was he just tired of it all?

  Ren would show him, then. He could do this.

  He tried to convince himself of this as he ran his hands up and down the smooth arms, showing his skill at touch. But he hesitated. Zanti had welcomed the other men: Aaron, Finn and Aiden. Encouraged them.

  Was it the story that had him holding back now? Or Ren?

  Master’s voice trembled the air. “Ren had an ability to see Zanti’s deepest desires through his skin. Through the energy that made beautiful lights seen only by Ren’s eyes.”

  Ren followed the patterns with his fingertips, though dark and hard to see, especially with his mask, searching for any brighter reds and pinks in Zanti’s aura.

  He found them. At the junctures of his body. Underarm. Inside of the elbow. Just below the hip. At the wrists and knees. At the base of his cock and on the softest of skin that made a pouch for his balls.

  As instructed by the story, Ren used his hands and mouth on all these places.

  Zanti had long since fallen back on the bed. He looked bored, or maybe confused. But Ren didn’t pay much attention to his facial features and focused on the lights on Zanti’s skin.

  Thankfully—or maybe just obedient to the story—Zanti’s cock stiffened and began to leak tiny pools of clear fluid as Ren worked. His aura brightened to paler silver. But glancing now and again at Zanti’s face, Ren noted he did not look pleased. It was the character in the story, Ren told himself. He was not used to resistance like this. But it was role-playing, that was all. And Ren had been trained for that.

  He pressed his lips to Zanti’s hips, to his belly button, and left breathless kisses on the elbows and in between his fingers. He turned Zanti, as the story instructed, and kissed the line between thigh and buttock, licking until it was wet and gleaming.

  Zanti shifted and hissed. His aura trembled. This was a good sign Ren hoped.

  Master’s story unfolded in intricate detail, almost but not always matching the places where Ren saw the pleasure zones on Zanti, and tortured him there with lusty licks and caresses.

  His mask got in the way sometimes. He ignored the barrier, doing his best to obey.

  The count’s story unfolded. Aaron, the count, became part of the play again. Instructed to touch Zanti where Ren had just touched. Following Ren’s lead. He did not seem happy. Aaron or the count?

  Master’s story took a turn.

  “Then Ren did something none of the others had ever done. He offered himself for pleasure. He straddled Zanti and stroked him upward until the wet tip of Zanti’s cock probed his hole. Slowly, Ren lowered himself on Zanti’s stiff cock, taking him into him, letting the boy feel how tight he was, how virgin, how saved he was for this special night when the count decided two boys must use each other to waken themselves to true manhood.

  “Zanti had never fucked a man before. Ren had never been fucked. It was time to see them locked together in new passion, time to rouse their sleeping souls.”

  Zanti was lean but big when aroused. So were they all. Ren knew Master had collected them with care. Maybe they had talents, but they were all of a size, lean, hard, big-cocked, young and energetic. Maybe they had not been Palace trained, but Ren was no snob. Young men could fuck with sustained energy many times a day. Some slaves at the Palace were able to maintain themselves through ten sessions a day, with only short breaks for food and rest. They craved sex. The more insatiable ones always sold first, Master Holden had told him.

  “This was a new sensation for Zanti. So new it took him by surprise and broke his control, as the count was hoping,” Master recited. “Zanti’s eyes went wide. His hips bucked up. And the sweet virgin ass he plunged into was hot and tight and irres
istible.”

  Suddenly, Ren was no longer in charge, no longer required to do anything but be a hole.

  Almost as if too eager to obey, Zanti grabbed Ren about the waist and pulled him down until he was fully seated on Zanti’s cock. Ren had been made ready before ever coming upstairs, so he was well-oiled, and moved his hips in a way he knew men liked, but Zanti’s fingernails dug into his waist, like a warning.

  “Zanti took full control,” Master said, voice a bit more breathy than it had been all evening.

  Zanti bucked up again, hard, and Ren felt slight pain. He’d been trained for that as well. Ren moved to adjust his position, forcing his muscles to relax. But Zanti did not seem to notice, or care, that Ren was re-settling for more comfort and better sex. He seemed not to notice at all. His hips began to move up and down, and his cock dragged out hard, then in again, over and over as his hips moved in a more rapid rhythm.

  Zanti pushed against Ren’s chest, not to embrace him, but to show some sort of, what, force? Ren listened to the words Master read.

  “Zanti became lost in pleasure so great it took all his senses away. He knew nothing but that he wanted more of this sensation, this hot grip on his cock, this fucking he had never before experienced.”

  Okay, so Zanti wanted more. But the words did not paint a picture of carelessness. That was all Zanti. And it was downright rude. It was all right, though. Ren knew the abandon with which men could fuck, the losing of control, the moments they lost perspective or any focus on other than their own satisfaction.

  Now Zanti piston-fucked him so fast and hard it took Ren’s breath. Ren looked down and saw a sideways grin slashing Zanti’s face, a first smile that was not a smile but more a feral look that took over his dark eyes, as if he was a beast, as if he were raised by wolves.

  Ren bounced, his own cock smacking him in the stomach hard enough to sting. Then Zanti sat up and pushed him hard, his grin showing teeth, not humor, and definitely not friendliness. He bounced Ren up so hard, withdrawing fast enough to burn, and came up over him like a creature toying with prey. He shoved Ren hard again, and Ren fell back, legs going up, and Zanti attacked his ass before Ren could even settle, pumping into him with Ren sliding back and almost falling off the bed.