Chapter 4

To say he felt nothing while his hips were held still by strong, firm hands, would have been a lie. Despite his sudden need to just push his ass against the owner of said hands, his conscience told him to straighten up and assume a rather frigid countenance, as he turned to face lord Lucas.

“Good evening, sir,” he bowed politely, his eyes traveling from the man’s chin along the black silk shirt to find a rescue point in the subtle black diamond tie needle, one of the few embellishments the rulers were allowed to wear.

The man did not seem to be taken aback by the servant’s attitude. A small chuckle was the answer, and Cory’s chin was gently tipped, determining the young man to look up. The slightest amount of blush colored the high of his cheeks for a brief second, as his eyes sank in the emerald pools. The fact that Lucas was so beautiful it hurt didn’t help. Mustering all his courage, he cast his eyes down, avoiding the direct look.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?”

He could almost congratulate himself for maintaining his voice steady as he spoke.

“Oh, Cory,” Lucas whispered seductively, “you can help you me with a lot of things.”

The young man was saved by the rest of the servants, marching from the kitchen with all kinds of delicious treats on their trays.

Cory took advantage of the brief interruption and scurried away, murmuring an apology. No matter how much he wanted to stay right there and lose himself in Lucas’s amazingly hypnotic gaze, he knew his master’s words could not be taken as idle threats.

He was aware that the man would not follow him to the servants’ quarters, so he hurried to his room to catch a breather. He needed to wash his face, and regain a neutral color and fast, as a servant with cheeks ablaze would have made, for sure, a strange subject for conversation in the lavishly appointed dining room.

As he got in the hallways again, he almost head-butted the redhead servant from earlier.

“Cory,” the servant said sternly, “your master is a bit dissatisfied with your sudden disappearance.”

“I will be right there,” he said quickly and tried to get fast past the redhead.

“My name is Dion,” the servant said, catching his arm.

He turned to smile at the other. “Nice name,” he commented, and the other winked at him.

“I’ll help you out tonight,” the redhead walked side by side with him. “It is your first party? Of this size, I mean?”

“Yes, it is,” Cory admitted, while still walking fast.

“Sorry about earlier, we were way too nosy. But a servant’s life does not have that many highlights, except for gossip. We kind of want to know everything.”

“That’s alright,” Cory shook his head a bit. Dion seemed to be a really nice guy, and he could use a friend close to his age and station.

“After we tend the table, we will have to get the slaves prepared for the show,” Dion dropped his voice, and looked at Cory, trying to gauge his reaction.

But Cory remained silent, not knowing if a reply was required to that or not.

Hesitantly, Dion continued. “Does your master allow you to ... help?”

“Help?” Cory shrugged. “I don’t know; I guess I’ll have to ask.”

Cory could not say whether the masters were actually enjoying themselves as the atmosphere around the table seemed to be quite hush-hush. There were very quiet conversations being muttered, and it looked as if those seated at the table were interested only in the people located within proximity and nothing else.

As they finished serving the courses, he noticed how the other servants were called by their masters and then sent away with a short nod. He caught Dion’s eyes for a second, and the redhead made a small gesture towards Cory’s master.

The young servant understood. He had spent almost the entire evening behind Xavier, trying hard to ignore how intimate he and Lucas seemed. They were talking sotto voce, just like everyone else, their heads almost touching, while, in turn, they barely touched the food placed in front of them.

Somewhat reluctantly, he got closer and leaned in, so his master could hear him.

“Master, I apologize for interrupting,” he whispered.

Xavier turned with a somewhat displeased expression on his face.

“Speak,” he said shortly.

“I was wondering if I should go help the others preparing the slaves,” he continued, keeping his eyes down.

There was a tiny glint in grey eyes that Cory missed. A quick glance was shared between the two rulers. Lucas’s lips pursed in displeasure.

“Yes, of course. After all, you need the training, and since I don’t keep any slaves, it would be hard for you to achieve that kind of knowledge otherwise. Go with the others. I look forward to seeing what you have learned tonight,” he added with a mysterious smile, again looking more at Lucas, then at Cory.

The servant nodded in the same fashion he had noticed the others doing and walked away, without looking at his master or his companion.

Lucas voiced his protest as soon as Cory was no longer within earshot.

“Xavier, is this a way for you to torment me?”

“What are you saying?” Xavier feigned innocence. “He just needs the practice.”

“He needs the practice...” Lucas mirrored his words. “ ... he in particular, of all the servants you had.”

“You know I’ve never kept anyone on a tight leash,” Xavier’s grey eyes turned into slits, as he continued to smile. “My servants are allowed ... how should I put this? ... a bit of leeway to compensate for their otherwise boring lives spent dusting and cooking all day long.”

Lucas straightened his back and moved slightly away from his friend as if he no longer cared for companionship.

“Leeway...” he sneered while repeating the word. “He has no clue about what to expect, has he, Xavier? You know his conditioning will force him to serve. What would you possibly hope to achieve with this? With his looks, he will naturally be used.”

“And why shouldn’t he be used?”

“Don’t you mind having your bed warmer spread and thoroughly fucked by some low life slaves? Or others’ cum is just your choice for lubricant?” Lucas spat the words while grabbing his champagne flute in front of him, for lack of anything else. The strong fingers flexed against the glass as if their owner was trying to strangle the poor object happening in his way.

“Come now, Lucas, don’t be crass. This is so not like you,” Xavier chided, ignoring the tension in the man’s shoulders.

“That only proves how little you know of me,” the brunet dropped his voice to an almost pained whisper.

Xavier’s eyes flashed in anger. Lucas was cruel to treat him like this! And for what? For a servant? He touched the man’s hand, caressing the small patch of skin between the black glove and the hem of his shirt.

“Why?” came the barely audible question. “Just because you can?”

Xavier sighed. “No, because every little thing in this world is set, and a servant does not belong in a ruler’s heart.”

“But he does belong in a ruler’s bed,” Lucas continued to ignore Xavier’s touch.

“Why not? They are prepared and trained to serve.”

“Not like this, and you know it.”

“Yet there are many ignoring this so called rule you are talking about,” Xavier shrugged as if they spoke of matters of minor importance.

“With all due respect, Xavier, you are in a class of your own when it comes to this. You ostentatiously refuse to take any slaves, just to debase these creatures and make them yield. Is conquest the only thing you care about? Is this why are you insisting so much on trying to get me in your bed?”

Xavier frowned. Lucas seemed quite disturbed. It was unlike Drena’s brightest mind to judge his best friend in such a manner.

“I told you it would be different between us,” he said sternly, withdrawing his hand and stopping the caress on the brunet’s wrist. His fingers itched for the touch, but they had to behave for now. “I could even let you...” he leaned forward and whispered something in Lucas’s ear.

The man didn’t look pleased. “I would still not be interested,” the words poured acid on Xavier’s pride. “Do not mistake the little liberties we take for something else. I’ve never been, and I never will be interested in being more than friends.”

Xavier feigned a small yawn, to hide his unease. Lucas was a passionate human being; it was one of the things he loved in his best friend. But getting on his wrong side had never felt like this before; it was not like he was afraid. Friends or not, there was no one above him, no one. Xavier had been born to rule, and other position than number one was beneath him. In dealing with other diplomats, or with his many lovers, it didn’t matter; he was the one in charge. Lucas just had to be taught, despite his overbearing pride. Even if Xavier had to crush him, he had to make the beautiful brunet his.

Cory stepped into the large living room, transformed into the slaves’ headquarters for the evening, his head in the clouds. Getting away from Lucas made it easier to think of him, so when he took in the scene before his eyes, he just remained stuck in the middle of the room, his mouth agape.

Several male specimens, completely naked, were relaxing in various provocative positions on the sofas brought to the room specifically for the event. The servants Cory had met earlier were fawning over them, making their perfectly tanned bodies glisten with special oils they had probably brought from their masters’ homes.

He noticed how Dion was carefully massaging the round buttocks of a beautiful brunet with long hair. When the slave’s eyes lazily opened, he saw they were the deepest blue.

The slave shifted and watched him with interest. Cory just watched, finding it impossible to unglue his eyes from the brunet’s steady gaze.

“Who’s the new bitch?” the slave drawled the words, and Cory felt an unfamiliar sting somewhere right in the middle of his chest.

Dion slapped the man’s buttocks. “Play nice, Antoine. He belongs to lord Xavier,” the redhead warned.

“So?” the slave got up, followed by other pairs of curious eyes, as he got closer to the object of his interest.

Suddenly, it was silence; Cory could feel it, thick and dangerous around him. The slave called Antoine stopped in front of him. He was a few good inches taller than the servant, so Cory had to tip his head a bit backward to keep his eyes on him.

“Pretty,” Antoine commented while catching a few strands of blond hair and playing with them, by rolling them on his fingers. “Since you’re Xavier’s toy, I suppose you know well how to suck cock,” he said with a small smile that made Cory shift a bit nervously.

Fortunately, Dion came to the rescue. “Don’t bully him. He’s new. And just because he belongs to lord Xavier – don’t ever forget to add the honorific, Antoine, or one day your ass will be toasted – it does not mean that he is supposed to be your toy, too.”

“What?” Antoine crossed his arms over a perfectly chiseled torso. “I am only asking to be prepared by him,” he smiled and winked at Cory.

“I think I am perfectly capable of doing that,” Dion’s dark eyes grew a shade darker.

“I am bored of you,” Antoine flicked his mane of black hair over a shoulder, trying to dismiss Dion from his view. “With you, it’s always the same routine. I want something new. Can you give me something new?” he asked, lifting his chin in disdain, and watching Dion through his eyelashes.

“What a melodrama queen,” Dion hissed. “Any hot orifice will do for you. Stop being difficult.”

“I can tell master my performance lost its shine because you failed to prepare me,” Antoine warned, making Dion roll his eyes in exasperation. Cory felt compelled to intervene. “There is no problem, Dion. I came here to help, after all. Please let me know what I have to do, and I will do my best.”

His small speech made the two turn their heads in surprise at the same time. Cory could tell the others in the room, slaves and servants alike, were now staring at him. Again, he was showed his place. His master was one thing, though; a powerful man, capable of crushing Cory within a blink of an eye, while this slave was nothing but one of the many toys groomed to please the wealthy, just like him.

“Then suck my cock,” the brunet said, grabbing his package and giving his organ a tentative rub.

Cory’s clear sapphire eyes clashed for a brief second with the deeper blues.

“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said with a small smile. Dion was looking at him, wide-eyed, saying nothing, and, in passing, as he followed Antoine to the sofa the slave had been sprawled until earlier, he winked at the redhead.

He had to meet these famous slaves, after all, and his master was right that he needed the practice. He was a fast learner, and he was not going to let Antoine see him ashamed or embarrassed.

The brunet lay on his back, parting his legs, and raising his lean, muscular arms above his head.

“Make it hard and wet. I have some drilling to do tonight to please the masters. So don’t give me some lame blowjob, bitch,” he said with a sneer.

Calmly, Cory took a seat between the long legs and touched the slave’s organ, carefully drawing back the skin and caressing it.

“Your humble servant’s name is Cory,” he looked Antoine in the eyes, as he descended to engulf the round head in his mouth.

The short hitch in the brunet’s breathing, as their eyes remained locked let him know he had won. Even small victories were worth taking into consideration, for a young servant who was expected to please and nothing else.

His eyes at half mast, he incrementally pushed the growing organ into his mouth, letting it slide down his throat. The now well known familiar stir in his groin made him shift a little, to adjust his position. If he wanted to survive tonight, without fear of embarrassment and worthlessness, he had to keep his head in the game. So he thought of the harsh training at the Institution, to will his erection down.

The brunet did not seem to care that Cory’s skillful technique was lacking in enthusiasm. He grabbed the blond head and pushed inside, deeper and deeper. The servant took the reins once more as he squeezed the base of Antoine’s cock hard and withdrew.

Antoine whimpered, as he felt cold air hitting the skin that had been so properly lavished until then.

“You are well stimulated now,” Cory politely bowed and stood up.

The brunet followed him with his eyes, as Dion hurried to pamper him some more.

“I want him,” the slave said like a petulant child.

“And?” Dion shrugged, but he looked after the blond as he took a seat at the far end of the room, the same serene look on his face he’d had as sucking Antoine.

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Antoine spoke annoyed. “He’d better be here after the party, or else...”

“Else what?” the redhead challenged.

“Or it will be you passed around tonight. And I know how much you hate it when I let all of them have a go at you.”

Dion pretended to be unaffected. “Have it your way. I do not mind as much as you think I do.”

“Watch it, Dion,” Antoine’s voice dropped a few notes. “I can always make the game more enjoyable. Maybe we should test how much you can resist with your head under water, this time?”