Read Online A Master's Fidelity (Ganymede Quartet Book 2.5) by Darrah Glass - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Darrah Glass
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receiving that kind of attention from some new group of boys. It had been hugely disappointing to discover that Henry had no intention of swapping and didn’t seem to want to fuck him, either. Martin was so good at sex, such a popular partner amongst his cohort at Ganymede, and he’d been so sure that his master would appreciate everything he could do, but Henry hadn’t touched him.
That first week in school, the slaves had all talked about what they liked to do and how they liked to do it, their classroom filled with a miasma of arousal, and for everyone else this humid, heady cloud dispersed after the first parties of the year, but for Martin there was never resolution on any front, and he felt this difference from the group very acutely.
He’d felt quite despondent during that initial month. It had seemed so unfair to have the master he wanted, but for that master to be indifferent to his charms. It made him question whether he did, in fact, have any charms at all. None of his new friends had reported similar difficulties with their masters. Ganymede had given him no training to prepare for such a situation. He’d thought about asking Mr. Tim’s advice, but was too ashamed to let the senior companion know of his abject failure in his role. Martin hadn’t known how he was going to live without affection, without sex, but asking Henry to give him leave to pursue outside arrangements would’ve been too much like admitting defeat, and he had not been ready to concede.
He’d made wishes, countless wishes, furtively writing them out under the guise of doing homework, and burning them out in the side yard during his dinner hour. The rest of the Blackwell slaves had noted his desperation, but had been kind enough not to question him. Over and over he wished Let Henry want me , and when that didn’t have any effect, he begged for scraps: Let Henry use me . He had a good imagination; any contact at all with Henry could be enough.
Eventually, of course, Henry had made up for all of that. It had been worth waiting to finally receive the full force of Henry’s affection. Henry had surprised him, so naturally adept and learning everything Martin wanted to teach him with ease. He had a perfect body, and such a beautiful cock, and wanted nothing more than to please Martin, which was a gift Martin felt sure he didn’t deserve. Martin had had sex with a great number of boys and men, but somehow it had never been like this before, never this intense. Perhaps it was just that Henry had needed so badly to be affectionate with someone, anyone; he was a lonely boy despite his friendships, and Martin imagined it had been years since anyone had touched him beyond a handshake or clap on the back.
It couldn’t just be that, though, Martin was nearly sure of it. Martin felt that so many things were shared between them when they fucked, such understanding, and he believed Henry felt this, too. Martin had come to Henry ready to offer his devotion, and with all that had happened between them, it was so easy to give it, to act it out, and it felt reciprocal, as if Henry might care for Martin more than he was meant to. Even if Martin was only imagining things, he could still be happy if his life would only continue like this, just like this. He was crazy about Henry, absolutely crazy. Henry’s looks were a refinement of everything Martin liked in a boy’s face. Henry was delicious like no other boy Martin had ever put his mouth on, and he need only catch a hint of Henry’s scent to become helplessly aroused. He would have never dared hope his master would do the things that Henry did so generously and with such passion. It more than made up for not participating in swaps.
Martin didn’t know how he felt about swapping at this point. If Henry decided he wanted to play, then of course Martin would go along with his decision without complaint, but he wouldn’t look forward to sex with any of the other masters, Henry’s friends. They
That first week in school, the slaves had all talked about what they liked to do and how they liked to do it, their classroom filled with a miasma of arousal, and for everyone else this humid, heady cloud dispersed after the first parties of the year, but for Martin there was never resolution on any front, and he felt this difference from the group very acutely.
He’d felt quite despondent during that initial month. It had seemed so unfair to have the master he wanted, but for that master to be indifferent to his charms. It made him question whether he did, in fact, have any charms at all. None of his new friends had reported similar difficulties with their masters. Ganymede had given him no training to prepare for such a situation. He’d thought about asking Mr. Tim’s advice, but was too ashamed to let the senior companion know of his abject failure in his role. Martin hadn’t known how he was going to live without affection, without sex, but asking Henry to give him leave to pursue outside arrangements would’ve been too much like admitting defeat, and he had not been ready to concede.
He’d made wishes, countless wishes, furtively writing them out under the guise of doing homework, and burning them out in the side yard during his dinner hour. The rest of the Blackwell slaves had noted his desperation, but had been kind enough not to question him. Over and over he wished Let Henry want me , and when that didn’t have any effect, he begged for scraps: Let Henry use me . He had a good imagination; any contact at all with Henry could be enough.
Eventually, of course, Henry had made up for all of that. It had been worth waiting to finally receive the full force of Henry’s affection. Henry had surprised him, so naturally adept and learning everything Martin wanted to teach him with ease. He had a perfect body, and such a beautiful cock, and wanted nothing more than to please Martin, which was a gift Martin felt sure he didn’t deserve. Martin had had sex with a great number of boys and men, but somehow it had never been like this before, never this intense. Perhaps it was just that Henry had needed so badly to be affectionate with someone, anyone; he was a lonely boy despite his friendships, and Martin imagined it had been years since anyone had touched him beyond a handshake or clap on the back.
It couldn’t just be that, though, Martin was nearly sure of it. Martin felt that so many things were shared between them when they fucked, such understanding, and he believed Henry felt this, too. Martin had come to Henry ready to offer his devotion, and with all that had happened between them, it was so easy to give it, to act it out, and it felt reciprocal, as if Henry might care for Martin more than he was meant to. Even if Martin was only imagining things, he could still be happy if his life would only continue like this, just like this. He was crazy about Henry, absolutely crazy. Henry’s looks were a refinement of everything Martin liked in a boy’s face. Henry was delicious like no other boy Martin had ever put his mouth on, and he need only catch a hint of Henry’s scent to become helplessly aroused. He would have never dared hope his master would do the things that Henry did so generously and with such passion. It more than made up for not participating in swaps.
Martin didn’t know how he felt about swapping at this point. If Henry decided he wanted to play, then of course Martin would go along with his decision without complaint, but he wouldn’t look forward to sex with any of the other masters, Henry’s friends. They
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