AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Leave!” the man shouted suddenly to the bystanders.
When it took a while for them to understand, through their chortles, he had to ask once more before the men complied.
Then, he and the man were alone.
The moment they were alone, Salas decided to take advantage of the situation. There was a spark of unassertiveness within the Malthenian, and if it meant that Salas would not have to spread his legs for this man to enter him, he would exploit it for all that it was worth. It would require a greater act, though it might mean humiliating the man as opposed to the other way around.
“Come here,” Salas demanded, sitting up, before the Malthenian could take control of the situation and reverse the rolls, as seemed natural to him.
It was unnatural for this man, obviously, to take a role of submission.
But the lust was still there, within the darkness of his eyes.
He wanted this.
“Come here,” said Salas again, more stern this time.
The man came to him.
Salas stared up at him for a moment as the man stood before him, and swiftly decided that it wouldn’t do.
“Kneel,” he demanded.
Slowly, the man knelt before him, his eyes growing black, as though melting into a trance for the first time, and he was revering the euphoric sensation of it.
Salas sat up to the edge of the bed and used a chained foot to move the man’s head, almost absently, back and forth, studying his profile. He was still under-groomed and unkempt, things that Salas loathed, though now these qualities served to fuel his physical aggression when handling this monster.
Which is what the man, apparently, wanted.
With a press that was near violent, Salas pushed his foot into the man’s mouth.
The man’s mouth opened willingly, choking on Salas’ foot as though it were an elixir spilt by the gods themselves.
“Unlock it,” Salas said, twisting his ankle enough to make the chain clink together to demonstrate his meaning, while the man continued to gag.
The man began to pull back, perhaps to shake his head, so Salas pressed harder. “I hear the keys jangling about in your pocket. Un. Lock. It.”
Only once the man pulled the iron key from a waist pocket and unlocked the chains so that his limbs were free, did Salas pull his foot away, allowing the man to suck in ragged breaths now that his airway was no longer obstructed.
There was no getting around what happened next. No evading, lest he end up further restrained, with the other men making use of the chaos, and taking advantage of him simultaneously.
So, heart heavy, Salas said, “Get on the bed.”
The man moved like a dog who’d been told to fetch. With pathetic eagerness that differed so much from the rough attitude he had displayed before, he rose from his kneeled position and shot onto the bed, taking little time to remove his clothes without prompt and arranging himself onto all fours.
Salas paused, too long to be considered contemplating his next month, and was taken for the true hesitation that it was.
The brute swung his head around, glaring at Salas. “Well, princess?Prepare me.” With that he faced forward once more, sliding down the bed to stick his hairy buttocks into the air, for better reach.
Salas ran his fingertips along the man’s backside, and the man shuddered in response, sinking further into the plush of the mattress. Relaxing.
Salas fingers grazed over the place he knew he was to prepare, though he found himself stumbling over the correct actions. He was not accustomed to this particular role in the bed chamber, even when he had been a Susconian bird and had been with men who had preferred the role of the receiver. There were usually other birds and attendants to prepare both giver and receiver, with oils and cleansing acts, so that the man receiving Salas would be freshened and stretched, and Salas himself would be fully erect.
Now, though, it seemed as though he would have to ‘prepare’ the man himself, and he was finding himself ultimately reluctant to do so, as he wouldn’t have been for a man like Jareth. He didn’t want to do any of it withthisman.
When Salas began to use the pad of his thumb to rub against the hairy, twitching entrance, the man reared back, as though seeking Salas’ digit, his movements impatient as he grinded to make up for Salas’ lack of motion.
When Salas’ stalling persisted, the man threw back to him a look of lustful anticipation, and he knew he could delay no further.
