Sex in C Major

"Yes, Sir."

Daz took the bag and went upstairs. Stefan started to count the seconds, taking deep breaths to try and calm his racing heart. A proper welcome would be perfunctory. Clinical. He would be expected to simply open his legs and be passive. Like a toy. A body to jerk off into. A slave.

He would be used. There'd be no lust about it. No passion. He wouldn't be hurt or forced or punished-

But it would hurt. Four days off, without so much as a toy inside of him, his arse would be sensitive. And if Daz was going to play this uncaring, cold master with a toy, he'd make it a spit-fuck.

So it would hurt.

And Stefan would know they were home because of the pain in his arse as he helped with dinner. He'd have his place back.

His dick ached, and Stefan closed his eyes to continue counting. Nearly over. The wait was nearly over.

It was a torturous age until the lock clicked and the metal links sagged. He teased them open gently and stepped out of it. The urge to piss arrived, associating itself with the noise and the feel of air on his cock after four days of such a strict rhythm, but Stefan suppressed it. He'd been told to go to the bedroom. Not the bathroom. No detours.

Daz was unpacking the suitcase when Stefan entered the bedroom, and Stefan knelt by Daz's knee and touched his thigh lightly through his jeans.

"Sir?"

"There you are. On the bed."

Daz barely glanced at him as Stefan climbed up onto the bed. He finished weeding the dirty clothes from the clean, then quite suddenly-dropped his jeans and boxers, and stepped out of them.

The sight of his cock, even soft, made Stefan's mouth water.

His master sat up against the pillows and draped his arms along the top of the headboard, like an emperor awaiting some rather dull and uninspiring gift. Stefan's cock swelled at the arrogant sight, and he crawled up the bed with his eyes fixed on his master's face.

And those bored blue eyes.

"Get on with it, then. I haven't got all day."

The disinterest was both humiliating and hot as all hell, and Stefan mumbled an apology even as he began to play with himself. The angle was odd; his own fingers inside felt strange. But they were slick as he gathered his own arousal, and his master's dick began to grow in his hands as Stefan used himself as the lubricant he'd need.

And it stiffened, jutting out from his otherwise relaxed owner, Stefan knew he'd need it.

He knew this look. This feigned weariness. If he riled his master up, and made it good enough, then there would be a tipping point. A snap.

And then Stefan would be flung down on the bed and fucked bloody, amongst the dirty clothes and souvenirs.

So he didn't simply jack, but massaged. He listened to the catches in his owner's breathing and as he squeezed the base lightly, relearned the path of veins up the hard shaft. Four days, and yet it felt like a lifetime. It felt obscenely huge in Stefan's palm again; when it began to leak, Stefan toyed with the head in fascination. He felt almost new to this all over again.

And just like in the beginning, he wanted to feel it inside, not in his hand.

He sank slowly onto it, and groaned as he felt it part him as arrogantly as its-his-owner. He clenched around it as he reached the root, and sighed at the hot grip of skin on skin. Fuck. Home. He felt home, here, with this pressure and heat inside. The slick drag as he began to fuck himself was tinged with a familiar distaste for his own body's actions, for the confirmation of what it was, and yet, his body wasn't him anymore. It had never been him. The humiliating wetness could as easily be from a bottle; the hardness that shifted inside as he began to roll his hips and fuck in earnest would be inside of him whatever he had been assigned at birth.

Here, he was Stefan. A toy. A slave. Serving his master, his owner, to welcome him home.

A master who simply sat and watched his toy fuck its brains out on his cock.

A master who hadn't slept with anyone in Istanbul, Stefan knew, because the climax hit too soon, and with little more than a grunt and a rush of wetness. Stefan gripped the softening shaft hard to keep it inside, but his master finally moved to push him off to the side. Cum leaked free. The hollow coolness of a cock removed was unpleasant, and Stefan clenched around nothing to try and feel it again.