Will, would you come with me?”
Will straightened from the oven
where he had just set the ham to roast. Nicholas wasn’t wearing a shirt and
neither did Will. He found they just got dirty and in the way when he worked,
especially in the warm kitchen. He was charged with cooking for himself and
having enough food available for the guests. He was never asked to serve them,
just have food in the pantry. It was pleasant choosing the food for himself
instead of eating what some woman dictated. He hadn’t known how to cook at
first, though, and botched a lot before developing the skill.
“Yes, sir.” He wiped his hands
on a towel, which he tossed back into the sink.
“What would you do with this?”
he asked, opening one of the doors. He didn’t think anyone was in any of the
rooms. He usually stayed out of the halls when the vampires were busy. Inside,
a man stood naked. His bound hands hung above him. It was a white man, though
not as pale as Terrance, or even Nicholas. Will licked his lips, unsure what
the vampire wanted.
Will took a tentative step into
the room, wanting a closer look at the man. His skin was a brownish-olive,
warm. Black, glossy hair fell in waves to his shoulders. The same glossy hair
framed an average looking penis. Or it would be average, if it weren’t
half-hardened, vessels starting to stand out on it.
Will had handled his own penis
many times. It was much larger than this one, but the lighter skin, the fact
that it wasn’t his, fascinated him.
“Go on,” Nicholas urged.
“Master?” the man asked.
“This is Will, Bart. I thought
I’d get a fresh opinion. I’d hate for our play to become stale.”
Bart sighed and sagged a little
pulling his elbows as far as the rope allowed. “I understand. He is young,
isn’t he?”
“Sixteen,” Nicholas answered.
Will took slow steps and then
reached out to touch the other man’s penis.
The image of a woman playing
with his penis flashed through his head. Then more memories: white fingers
against dark skin. Black hands beating. White hands beating. His mother strung
up, beaten for a whore.
He let go and stepped back,
shaking his head.
“No? I think he liked that.”
Nicholas reached past Will to grip Bart’s length. “What he really likes, is
this.” Nicholas crouched and licked the head of Bart’s cock where it was just
beginning to pass the foreskin. He held the head in his mouth while he stroked.
Will watched in fascination.
“Give it a try,” Nicholas
urged, pointing the penis toward Will.
He shook a little and knelt
down, taking the penis in his hand again. This time there were no frightening
images, no memories, just the warm flesh in his hand. The skin was impossibly
soft. It was what he imagined white ladies hands were like.
That memory bombarded him
again, and he stroked the soft skin as he remembered the white fingers stroking
his, ever so gently.
Remember, there are plenty more great tastes waiting on the blog.
