Sex in C Major

The way, after every single fuck after every single experiment, he had come so hard he'd blacked out. Driven into insanity by his own body.

The way a single bar of that damn "Symphony in C Major" made him wet.

"Yes, Sir," he whispered.

And piano music-sex music-began to leak from the laptop.

Stefan blinked hazily at the ceiling when rough tissue, like cheap toilet paper, was rubbed against his cunt and over his cock, scraping the sensitive skin.

"What-?"

His brain kicked into gear. The sticky carpet under his naked back. The music room. Yannis sitting at the piano, making notes in that damned folder...

"Sir?" he whispered.

Daz chuckled.

"How many?"

His training worked before his mind. "Twelve, Sir."

"So what do you owe me?"

"Twelve, Sir."

"Very good. Do you get to come again before you've repaid your debt?"

"Only if you say I can, Sir."

A tongue rubbed, hot and wet, over his cock, and Stefan sobbed. It hurt. Oh God, it hurt. His cunt ached. He could still feel the shudder of the toy in his thighs.

Eleven songs had played on the laptop, and he had come an exhausted ten times. And then Yannis, damn Yannis, had turned to the piano and played something new, something deep that shuddered through the floor, like the double bass in dark evenings, when he'd played to Daz's cock ripping Stefan apart from the inside like a thing-

Stefan had come twice in as many minutes, crying into his fist and rutting Daz's boot like a whore.

The boot was dark at the toe. Damp. Stained.

The slap on his thigh didn't so much as brush the haze in Stefan's mind. He blinked.

"Get dressed."

"Y-Yes, Sir."

He felt stoned. His limbs were clumsy and slow as he dressed. His clothes scraped on his skin. Painful. He shuddered, and clutched blindly at the hand that took his own.

He was drifting. Lost.

"Sir-"

"What?"

"I need-please-I need you."

"Well, we'll have plenty of time at home before Yannis gets home. You going to thank him for playing so nicely for you?"

Stefan stared dumbly at Yannis for a moment. Yannis stared back. Impassive. Cold. He would never come undone to the sight of Stefan, naked and writhing on the floor. He would never fuck like Daz did-

Because oh God, Yannis was so much more untouchable than Daz. Stefan had some power over Daz, some control in the lust he elicited from his master. He might be the slave, but he wasn't so utterly helpless.

But his master's partner-

"Thank you," he whispered, completely naked despite his clothes, completely vulnerable despite the fact he was not a vessel for this man's pleasure.

Naked, vulnerable, because he wanted to be.

Yannis raised an eyebrow. His gaze slid sideways to Daz.

"Can I get back to the lab, now?"

Daz grinned. Not the master's smirk, but a buoyant, boyfriend-ish look. He leaned over and loudly planted a kiss on Yannis' cheek.

"Yeah, go be all scary and amazing."

"Twat," Yannis said affectionately, then gathered his things and walked from the room like they'd simply had coffee. Not like he'd watched a sex toy fuck another sex toy on the floor for an-

Stefan frowned.

"How-how long have we been here, Sir?"

Daz glanced at his watch as he packed up the bag.

"Hour and a half."

Oh God. Ninety minutes. Twelve orgasms in ninety minutes, and not one fuck.

Stefan's skin itched. His cunt and arse throbbed, hollow and horrible. He needed to be filled. Needed a fuck. Needed that pain to ground him.

"Sir-can we please?"

Daz shot him a look, and took his hand. Began to tow him out of the building.

"When we get home."

Stefan's mind reeled. Home? Home was a bus ride away. The shuddering and jerking of the vehicle, and clutching close to his master because there'd be no room-

"Sir, please, I can't wait that long."

His voice was too loud. A student coming in as they walked out gave him a funny look. Stefan didn't care. He would strip again and bend over right here in the street, if only Daz would take away the emptiness. He'd take a toy again, take one of those horrible huge dildos, take it double, even go back to Jack's, or to one of the saunas, and let Daz loan him around-

"Please!"

Daz's hand squeezed painfully.

"Watch your tone."

Stefan bit his lip and fought to be silent-until they walked straight past the bus station and kept going.

"We're we're walking home?"

"It's a nice day."

Stefan could have cried. Walking felt almost painful, every empty step shaking him to the core. The only thing keeping him from flying out of his own skin, it seemed, was the grip of Daz's hand around his own. And it wasn't enough. He had essentially masturbated for an hour and a half, and that had never been enough, not since that very first shot from an online drug supplier.