“Sure, whatever, get him that. And a glass of iced tea, please.”
“Yes, Master.” Snatching up Diego’s plate, the maid scurried off.
Understanding finally dawned on Jason. “Did my uncle make you eat salad all the time? Is that why you’re so skinny?”
Diego bobbed his head. “Yes, Master. The late master preferred me to be slender.”
Jason humphed at the absurdity of the idea, but elected to let the matter drop. It was done and over with. From that point on, the boy would eat what he ate. He’d be sure to let Ginger know after dinner. As soon as Peggy returned with Diego’s food and drink, Jason took his first bite of steak. Oh man, it was heaven. Medium rare just the way he liked it. The sides were equally delicious. While he stuffed his face, he watched Diego pick up his hamburger and nibble at it. The slave was incredibly fastidious, eating slowly and carefully. His perfect table manners made Jason curious.
“Tell me about yourself,” he said around a mouthful of food. His own manners weren’t so great.
Diego swallowed his bite, washed it down with some tea, and patted the corners of his mouth with his napkin before answering. “Well, Master, I was born in a training center to breeding stock.”
Jason winced at how the boy referred to his mother, except that was the way of things. Slaves had to come from other slaves. “So, you grew up in a training center?”
“Yes, Master.” Diego kept his gaze locked on his food.
Feeling guilty over distracting the boy from eating, Jason plucked up a fry and pressed it against the slave’s lips. Diego opened up, and darted out his tongue to snatch the offering and suck it inside. God, Jason almost hated letting go of the fry. He wanted to follow it with his finger and let the slave suck it clean of salt. Jason’s cock stirred at the thought. For a brief moment, he considered giving up eating and heading back to bed. That wouldn’t be fair to Diego, though. He needed to eat. So, instead Jason grabbed a few fries for himself and stuffed them into his own mouth. Man, they were delicious. Ginger was an excellent cook. No surprise there. Vince had liked his food. Too much, obviously, with his heart giving out so early.
Jason returned his attention to his own plate, made himself slow down in order not to inadvertently rush Diego with his meal. The boy seemed to be savoring every bite. Peggy popped in frequently to make sure their glasses were always full and that Jason didn’t need anything else. Once they’d finished the main course, she cleared the dishes and went to fetch dessert. The whole idea of being served at home as if he were in a restaurant was weird. He fiddled with his glass of tea and decided he would pretend to be on a first date and tease more information out of his very quiet slave.
“Where was the training center, do you know?”
“In Boston, Master.”
“Makes sense.” Vince’s home, now Jason’s, was located in one of the tonier towns west of the city. “Is your mother still there?” He realized the moment the question left his lips that he might not like the answer.
“No, Master. She died giving birth to another baby when I was five.”
Yup, that answer sucked, except it gave them something in common. “My parents died in a car accident when I was twenty-three.”
With his eyes focused firmly on his lap, Diego said, “I’m sorry for your loss, Master.”
“And, I’m sorry for yours. Uncle Vince was the last of my family on both sides, actually.” He paused as Peggy returned with dessert, crème brûlée for Jason and a chocolate brownie for Diego. His salivary glands kicked into gear. “Is there enough for me to get a piece of that?”
“Of course, Master.” Peggy hurried to do his bidding.
With an internal sigh at how he couldn’t help sending his slaves into overdrive whether he intended to or not, he picked up his spoon and cracked the hardened sugar on top of his dessert. The crème was delicious. He rolled the satiny smoothness around his tongue while watching Diego out of the corner of his eye. For that one unguarded moment, the boy’s eyelids drooped in obvious pleasure when he bit into the brownie. Jason smiled at the reaction. Making someone else that happy over something so simple was immensely gratifying. Before Jason had licked the last of his dessert off his spoon, Peggy retuned with a small mountain of brownies sitting prettily on a plate.
He smiled at her. “Um, thanks, Peggy. That will keep us going for the rest of the night.”
He waited until she’d returned to the kitchen before grabbing a chocolate square for himself. The taste exceeded his expectations. He couldn’t hold back a moan. “This is amazing.”
Diego smiled shyly. “Ginger is a great cook.”
“She certainly is.” Jason washed down the rich bite. “So, um, you have a sibling?”
The slave pressed a crumb on his plate with his thumb. “I have an older sister who was sold off before my mother died, and a younger brother who got sold off a year before I was.”
“Jesus, how old were they when they were sold?” He’d never really considered how slavery worked when it came to children. He supposed if he’d ever thought of it, he’d have assumed they stayed with their mother until they turned eighteen.
“Twelve. As long as it’s for domestic work, slaves can be sold from their mothers or a training facility at that age.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.”
Diego glanced up at him, eyebrows raised, obviously surprised. “Thank you, Master, but I didn’t know either of them very well. My sister was moved into a dorm by ten to work in the kitchens and after our mother died, my brother and I were in different dorms because of our age.” He dropped his gaze, of course he did, back to his plate.
Jason plucked up a brownie and plopped it onto Diego’s plate. That got him a smile. He decided he wanted to do anything and everything he could to get that reaction as often as possible. Once again, he watched his slave eat with impeccable manners, as if he were consuming an exotic food instead of a basic kids treat.
Popping the last bit of his piece into his mouth, Jason propped his chin on his palm and enjoyed the show. “How old are you?”
Diego swallowed. “I’m nearly twenty, Master.”
Jason frowned. “How old were you when you were sold to my uncle?”
The boy toyed with his glass as he answered. “He bought me from an estate sale last spring, so nineteen.”
“An estate sale? Right, Stan said something about that, how you weren’t trained to serve a man.”
“Yes, sir. I was sold when I turned eighteen to a mistress who died.”
“Jeez, you’ve had two owners die in less than two years?” He saw a look of alarm cross the slave’s face. Jason reached out and put his hand on the boy’s arm with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mean to imply that it’s your fault.”
That got him another smile. “Thank you, Master.”
With a squeeze that he wanted to lead to more, Jason let go and sat back. “So, you were with a woman first? You were trained only for women? I didn’t even know that was a thing.”
“Yes, Master. I was supposed to be a drawing room companion, someone who could keep a mistress entertained.”
“Shit, no kidding? How the hell did you end up with Uncle Vince? I mean, I would have expected him to go with someone trained for his particular, um, needs.”
Diego shrugged. “I think I was cheap.”
“But, you weren’t ever trained to please a man, were you? So, how did that work with my uncle?”
There was a pause, and Jason saw a small shudder work its way down Diego’s body. “The old master taught me everything I needed to know, sir.”
Yeah, Jason just bet he had. Vince had been the uncle to shove him off the end of a dock one summer when Jason had been only six to teach him how to swim. The man hadn’t had an ounce of sensitivity in him or compassion. He must have brutalized the poor kid into being the perfect fuck toy. It made Jason feel guilty about the earlier blowjob and even thoughts of fucking the boy later. If Diego had a preference for women, Jason didn’t
want to force him to do things. He wanted a willing bedmate, or at least one that enjoyed the experience.
He blew out a breath before draining his iced tea. “Let’s go up to the bedroom and watch a movie.”
Pushing back his chair, he snatched up the plate of brownies and left the table. He started for the stairs, stopped and backtracked to poke his head into the kitchen. Startled slave faces greeted him.
“Thanks for a great dinner, Ginger. And, from now on, Diego eats what I eat. In fact, everyone eats what I eat,” he added. Maybe he was being naïve, but he didn’t like the idea of his eating like a king while his household staff made do with inferior food. Besides, he liked hamburgers and mac and cheese and all of those other kid type foods. He didn’t need steak or lobster every night. “Simple food will be fine most nights.”
“Yes, Master,” the cook replied. “Thank you, Master.”
“Good night.”
He swung back and nearly ran into Diego who hovered right behind him. The boy held out his hands. “May I take that from you, Master?” He nodded at the plate of brownies.
“Nope.”
Jason moved past the boy and headed back to the bedroom. Vince had installed a huge flat screen opposite the bed. Jason figured the guy had satellite and was proved right once he found the remote and started scrolling through the menu. There were a gazillion movie choices. Jason put the plate of brownies on the bed next to him and patted the empty spot where Diego had napped earlier.
“Come on up.” The slave obeyed quickly, quietly, and so gracefully, he barely made the mattress dip. Jason popped a piece of brownie in his mouth. “I’m in the mood for a comedy. How about you?”
“Whatever pleases you, Master.”
Right. Slaves didn’t have opinions, apparently. Jason picked a cop buddy movie with both action and one-liners. He settled back against the headboard and urged Diego to do the same. He also force-fed the slave half of each square of brownie. Then he became thirsty, but that was no problem. Vince had installed a mini-bar in a cabinet below the television. Diego fetched an ice-cold bottle of beer for Jason and a bottle of water for himself under orders. The slave politely refused an offer of beer, and that was fine with Jason. In fact, he loved that the boy was comfortable enough to give him a straight answer about it.
By the time the movie had ended, the effects of both the alcohol and returning jet lag had Jason yawning loudly. He turned the TV off and rolled onto his side to face Diego. The slave eyed him warily, although as usual not directly. Jason reached out and ran a finger down the boy’s arm.
“I need to ask you something,” he said softly.
The slave answered him in the same tone of voice. “Yes, Master?”
“Did you like being a drawing room slave? Did you like having a mistress?” Before the boy could respond, Jason clarified his question. “What I mean is, did you like being fucked by a woman, or do you prefer men?”
“I am happy to be of service to whomever owns me.”
The perfect grammar and the robot quality of the answer irked Jason. Moving the empty plate over to the nightstand, he slid closer to his slave. “No.” He placed his palm directly on top of Diego’s fly. The outline of the boy’s cock stood out easily against the snug denim. “What do you like?”
As he asked the question, Jason pressed down, thinking the slave’s body would be more honest in its reaction. A grin popped out before he could stop it when he felt a spasm in response to the pressure.
“You said you lived in a dorm. I bet you and the other boys used to play games once the lights were out.”
“Yes.” Diego’s voice caught. “Master,” he added in a breathless tone.
Jason squeezed the hardening length before undoing the zipper of Diego’s jeans. The stiffening dick popped out into his hand, giving Jason a chance to stroke it. Diego moaned prettily and shifted his legs open. Jason swiped a bead of moisture from the cockhead, earning another moan from his slave.
“Close your eyes and pretend I’m one of those boys.”
Diego hesitated a moment before complying. His eyelashes fluttered closed, and his tongue swiped at his plump lower lip. “Must I, Master?”
“Must you what?” Jason asked sitting up and slinging his leg over Diego to straddle him.
“Must I pretend it’s someone else?”
In the process of yanking Diego’s jeans down, Jason paused at the question. “Do you mean you want it to be me?”
Another pause before Diego gave a quick nod. The idea that his slave wanted not just a man, but him, delighted Jason. Except the smarter part of his brain told him that a slave would learn early in life to tell convincing lies to an owner. The boy’s dick, though, stood up, hard and a reddish brown against the dusky tone of the rest of his skin. Maybe Diego imagined a girl touched him. Well, if that were the case, Jason would have his answer once he was inside the boy. If getting fucked didn’t deflate that erection, it probably meant the slave liked it.
Probably.
He was over thinking the whole thing. His own cock strained against his fly, desperate to come out and play. It didn’t feel any qualms whatsoever about fucking someone the law gave him the right to. His conscience be damned, if he didn’t get inside Diego’s ass, his balls would turn blue. He might as well take the slave at his word and worry about the fairness of it all later.
Stripping the boy, then himself took no time. He allowed his hands to roam all over the soft, olive skin. The slave had very little hair anywhere, and his chest was entirely smooth. Jason tweaked one hard nub to see the boy’s reaction. A sharp inhale followed by yet one more moan encouraged him to do the same to the other nipple. Jason trailed his finger down a taut stomach to scratch at the neatly trimmed pubic hair surrounding the still hard rod. Diego’s fingers clenched at the sheet, yet further indication that the boy liked Jason’s attention.
Wanting more, needing more, Jason maneuvered both their bodies so that he could kneel between Diego’s legs. It allowed him to grasp the boy’s cock more easily and pump it, while cupping his balls. More stuttering breaths puffed past Diego’s lips, testament to his arousal, as if the hard dick and tight sac didn’t tell the tale well enough. Jason released the balls and wetting his forefinger, slid it into the crack of Diego’s ass and pushed past his sphincter.
Diego uttered a sound that was a cross between an exclamation of surprise and a whimper.
Jason stilled his movement. “Does that bother you?”
The slave shook his head and bit his lower lip with one bright, white tooth. Jason smiled at the response and pressed his finger farther in. Then he crooked it to swipe across the boy’s prostate. All the while, he kept up steady strokes of the cock hot and pulsing within in his grasp. It didn’t take long before he had his boy writhing against his hold. The sight made Jason crazy and suddenly impatient. Withdrawing his finger, he leaned over Diego to open the nightstand. He hoped Vince hadn’t been such an utter asshole that he hadn’t kept lube at the ready for when he fucked his slave.
Oh, happy days, he hadn’t been. Jason snatched up the tube and released Diego’s cock long enough to slather his own up, as well as two fingers to initiate further prep. Diego’s hole opened beautifully when pierced, becoming pliant and ready for Jason within seconds. Jason pulled Diego’s legs up and marveled at how limber the boy was. Then he lined his dick up with the puckered hole and slid home.
Diego tensed at the invasion for only a fraction of a second before he relaxed again. That big rod stretched him like no other had. Yet, this master had bothered to prep him in advance, and that helped a lot. No one else had ever taken the time. No one, not the old master nor the friends he’d lent Diego to nor the handler had ever stroked Diego’s dick or fondled his balls. This man had actually seemed to want to make sure Diego enjoyed himself. And, he’d even asked Diego whether he liked fucking other men, as if what a slave preferred mattered. He’d answered truthfully, although he wasn’t sure the master believed him. With Diego’s cock ha
rd and leaking cum still, he hoped the truth of his answer was obvious.
“That’s it,” the master crooned, as he again took Diego’s dick in hand. “God, you’re so hot and tight.” He pressed closer to send his cock deeper inside Diego’s channel.
Diego squeezed, even though it hurt a bit, because he wanted to give as much pleasure as he was receiving. His reward was a long groan from his master. Diego forced his eyes to open so that he could watch. The master loomed above him with his own eyes closed, a look of pure pleasure lit up his face. So Diego squeezed again.
The master chuckled. “Don’t do that. You’ll make me come to soon.” His eyes flashed open, and for a heartbeat, Diego forgot to look away.
He shut his eyes tight as the master bent over. Instead of any kind of admonishment, he felt lips on his own. A tongue demanded entrance, and Diego welcomed it in. His training took over after a moment of surprise, and Diego kissed his master back. No man had done this, either, and he realized he’d missed this simple form of affection. The yeasty taste of beer invaded his mouth, tingling every place the master licked. Their tongues wrestled and mated while the master started thrusting.
At first, the man merely rocked back and forth, barely moving his dick. Then he dropped down on top of Diego, fisted his hands in Diego’s hair and began fucking in earnest. Tongue and cock synced up as the master slapped their bodies together in a fast and furious rhythm. Diego kept his legs up, his thigh muscles straining, in order to give his master and himself the most pleasure possible. The master rewarded his efforts by angling his hips so that his big dick pounded against Diego’s prostate.
They heaved breath into each other’s mouths as their bodies slapped together. Diego felt his balls tighten and his cock pulse between their sweat-soaked bodies. He came with a cry that his master swallowed down. The fingers gripping his hair tightened and tugged on his scalp. Tears stung the corners of his eyes, but he pulled his legs up even higher and clenched his hole as hard as he could. The master yelled into Diego’s mouth before pulling up and tugging Diego’s lower lip with his teeth.
Heir to a Slave Page 3
