Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 86(@200wpm)___ 68(@250wpm)___ 57(@300wpm)
The thought was a little alarming, but not alarming enough to penetrate through the fog of bliss in Troy’s mind.
He barely stopped a whine when Master Andreas started pulling out of him. He always hated that part. It left him feeling vaguely empty and wrong. Not to mention that as soon as the Master pulled his cock out of him, Troy’s higher brain functions returned and he started feeling embarrassed by the way he had behaved. Like the worst kind of cock slut. Fuck, what was happening to him?
“I don’t know why you do it to yourself,” Master Andreas said, rolling off of him onto his back and sighing in contentment.
Troy rolled onto his back too and stared at the ceiling. “Do what?”
“Feel embarrassed by the natural response of your body to me.”
Troy pulled a face, his cheeks warm. There was nothing fucking natural about the way he turned into a slag for his employer’s cock.
“It’s just weird,” he said, running a hand through his messy hair. “I didn’t used to like being fucked. Until you. But now I’m all…” He shrugged, unable to say it. “It’s weird.”
Master Andreas propped himself on an elbow and laid a hand on Troy’s chin, forcing him to turn his head to him.
Troy did so, reluctantly.
Dark brown eyes were studying him in a way that made Troy feel uncomfortable. Transparent.
“Why do you find being on the receiving end of penetrative sex demeaning? It’s just sex. It doesn’t make you lesser just because you don’t play a dominant role.”
Troy scoffed, unable to hold his gaze. “Easy for you to say. Why won’t you let me fuck you, then?”
Master Andreas shrugged. “I tried it when I was young and I didn’t find it all that enjoyable. But you do. Very much so.”
Glaring at him half-heartedly, Troy bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m not…” He trailed off, hating himself a little for his inability to lie to this man. “I always wanted to be chosen by a Master,” he said quietly, fixing his eyes on Master Andreas’s shoulder. “As an apprentice, obviously. I’m a Class 4 telepath—pretty strong. My instructors said that initiates like me usually got chosen. I thought I was good enough.” He smiled, hoping it didn’t look too bitter. “But I wasn’t. No Master picked me as their apprentice, so I ended up in the servicing department.” He looked at the ceiling again. “When the Coordinator suggested that I’d do well as a pleasure servant, it seemed like such a joke, you know? Going from my ambitions of being a Master some day to being a fuck-toy for various Masters. It was very—disheartening, I guess.” Troy chuckled. “I didn’t want to be a pleasure servant. But it turned out my talents were limited even as a servant. I didn’t have aptitude for any other job in the servicing department. So in the end I had little choice besides becoming a pleasure servant.”
There was also the option of leaving High Hronthar entirely and going to live with the outsiders, but that option had been too daunting. Failed initiates weren’t forced to stay in the Order, but leaving meant cutting off all ties to your old life. Troy didn’t fancy the prospect of having his memories wiped and never seeing his friends here again.
“So yeah,” Troy said with a crooked smile. “It’s not like I had a lot of other options. And the job isn’t all that bad. It’s just sex. I’m good at sex. But I made myself a promise that I’d retain some degree of control, even if it’s an illusion—that I’d never—” He cut himself off, feeling deeply uncomfortable. He’d already said more than he’d ever told anyone.
“I see.”
When Troy finally found the courage to look at him, Master Andreas’s gaze was fixed on him with a strange, soft expression Troy couldn’t quite read.
“You shouldn’t be a pleasure servant if you don’t want to be one,” he said at last.
Troy let out a laugh. “Spoken as a privileged member of the Chapter. It’s not that simple, Master.”
“Andreas.”
When Troy just looked at him blankly, the Master clarified, “You may call me Andreas.”
Troy could only stare at him, stunned and unsure how to respond to that. It was unheard of for a pleasure servant to call a Master—much less a Senior Master of the Chapter—by his name. Heck, pleasure servants weren’t allowed to lift their eyes at a Master without being given explicit permission. This was completely unprecedented.
It made him feel… like a person. Not just a talentless servant who was only good enough to be a fuck-toy. A person.
Before Troy could stop himself, he leaned in and pressed his lips against his Master’s. He felt Andreas stiffen slightly, and then a hand buried in Troy’s hair and Andreas was kissing him back.
Oh.
Troy had never been much for kissing. He saw little point in it. What was sexy about exchanging spit and tasting whatever the other person had eaten recently?