Jesse part ten and a bit
Sep. 20th, 2007 08:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maculategiraffePart Ten
"Come here, Bran," Holden ordered that evening after dinner, as he settled down at one end of the couch in the lounge, and Bran, with a quick glance at a surprised-looking Inga, obeyed immediately. He started to kneel, but Holden grabbed his arm and pulled him back up, then tugged sharply at the edge of Bran's tunic. "I want this off."
Bran lowered his eyes and said something Jesse didn't catch.
"Bran," said Holden gently. "Wearing clothes is a privilege. One more hesitation and you lose that privilege until further notice."
Paling, Bran yanked his tunic off swiftly and hit the floor before it did, bowing his forehead almost to the carpet in apology as Jesse, seated in an unobtrusive corner with a book he hadn't even glanced at, swallowed hard, disturbed by a faint flicker of excitement at the threat. That's sick. Poor kid. Gods, he looks good like that.
"Eyes on me, sweetheart," Holden said softly, and when Bran lifted his head, Holden reached down to draw the boy up onto his lap, speaking to him too softly for Jesse to hear, but apparently in a series of instructions, as Bran adjusted himself in his master's lap, his long legs stretched out along the rest of the couch, his back against Holden's arm. Smiling, Holden began stroking his chest, drawing small circles around his nipples with an index finger. Bran's cock hardened almost instantly, and he closed his eyes, spots of crimson burning on his cheeks.
Holden bent down and said something, and Bran moved suddenly to put his arms around his master's neck, turning his body so that it was half hidden against Holden's chest. Holden allowed it, wrapping his own arms around Bran and holding him closer while he continued to speak softly with his lips close to Bran's ear. Bran was trembling. He shook his head emphatically, and Holden smiled.
Inga looked around absently for a moment, then caught Greta's eye and moved easily to her side. Greta smiled at her and she sat down, watching Bran and Holden with interest. Jesse was watching, too, and he saw Bran's shivering abate as Holden went on speaking into his ear. When Holden stopped speaking, Bran nodded, then made a small convulsive movement as if to bury himself more deeply in Holden's arms. Holden hugged him hard for a moment, then began kissing him softly, first his lips, then cheeks, chin, nose, eyelids, forehead, temples, covering Bran's face with kisses, coaxing out a slow, irresistible smile.
Jesse watched the other boy's tensed body growing slowly pliant and languid as Holden kissed his throat, his collarbone, then drew his head down to kiss the nape of his neck. He watched Holden's lips, trying to decipher what he was saying to Bran between kisses-- "Beautiful," he thought he saw shaped, more than once, and "dear," and then, just before pressing his lips to Bran's naked shoulder, an unmistakably emphatic "mine." Bran moved slightly into every kiss, not demanding any more than the touch Holden gave him, but rising to meet it with an electric responsiveness that sent a rush of blood to Jesse's cock.
Bran said something inaudible, and Holden grinned, shaking his head, pressing his lips to Bran's forehead. And spoke again, into Bran's hair. Bran nodded again, his face half hidden in his master's neck; Holden nuzzled down the trail of soft hair at his nape, his mouth latched on to the place where neck met shoulder, and then he bit, hard. Bran had been expecting it; his body jerked and shuddered, but he didn't make a sound.
Holden gently grasped Bran's shoulder and peeled him off his own chest, supporting his back with the other arm. Bran, trembling again, reluctantly let his arms slide from around his master's neck, and Holden stroked him soothingly, pressing a kiss to his lips, whispering something in his ear. Bran relaxed slightly as Holden kissed his way down his chest, took his nipple in his mouth, and lapped and nibbled at it gently while Bran breathed hard. At last he pulled back, kissed the hard nub of the nipple, laid his lips to a patch of skin an inch or two above it, and suckled for a moment before biting down. Bran shuddered again, his mouth opening in a silent cry, as Holden's lips and tongue slipped gently down his chest, teeth caught his nipple (a shred of sound slipped out then, the barest breathless hint of a moan), and fastened on to another smooth patch of skin.
Jesse was watching so intently that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Yves spoke in a normal tone of voice.
"Can I help with that, master?" he asked lazily.
"Be my guest," said Holden, and Bran lay very still against his master's arm, watching as Yves got up, crossed to the couch and knelt at the other end of it from Holden, pushing one of Bran's legs off the couch and sitting where it had been, between the now spread legs. He bent down and pressed his lips to the crease between Bran's pelvis and his leg; Bran's back arched, pressing the skin of his collarbone harder against Holden's mouth as Yves' teeth sank into the tender flesh of his inner thigh.
Holden looked up and raised his eyebrows, and Jesse followed his glance to Jer, who was shaking his head, grinning, his hand wrapped around his cock, half covered by his tunic. Jesse would have liked to do the same, but had no intention of giving Holden the satisfaction, should he happen to glance in Jesse's direction. Which he didn't seem particularly likely to do, at the moment.
"What are our thoughts on this?" Yves asked Holden quietly, brushing a fingertip lightly along the length of Bran's cock, so hard now that it stood upright and away from his body, the tip glistening.
"Besides 'a thing of beauty,' you mean?" Holden asked, his mouth hovering above Bran's other nipple, hard already from the barely-there tickle of his breath.
"So you don't want me to...?"
"Go ahead," said Holden, and flicked Bran's nipple with his tongue, starting the boy trembling again. "More where that came from."
Yves grinned and took Bran's cock in his mouth in one quick motion just as Holden's incisors clamped down on his nipple. Bran gave a choking cry and then drew in his breath sharply, biting his lips hard as Yves sucked his cock and Holden, mouth still on his nipple, reached down and wrapped his hand around Bran's balls, kneading gently.
Bran's lips formed the word master, a faint hiss escaping on the st.
After a moment Yves' hand reached up and tapped at the back of Holden's, in a let me gesture, and Holden took his hand away, letting Yves' replace it, and lifted it to Bran's mouth, pressing his fingers between the boy's parted lips. Bran took them in eagerly, sucking and licking with an almost desperate enthusiasm; Holden leaned back to say something in Bran's ear, and Bran squirmed forward slightly, breaking Yves' rhythm for a moment. Holden pulled his hand away and kissed his lips, deeply, forcing Bran's head back as his hand disappeared from view. Bran's guttural groan was only half stifled by his master's mouth, and he continued to whimper softly as Holden kept kissing him, catching his lower lip between his teeth, then cried out again as he came into Yves' mouth, biting back at Holden's lips, Yves licking him clean with long, leisurely strokes of the tongue.
"Holden, love, if you could just keep him a little quieter," said Alix without looking up from her work at the desk.
"Sorry," said Holden, pulling back from Bran's lips. "He's supposed to be keeping silent." Bran bit his own lip as Holden added with a teasing smile into his slave's flushed face, "He seems to be having some trouble following instructions today."
"Then either gag him or take him upstairs, there's a dear," said Alix, turning over a fresh sheet of paper. "I just wrote 'in my orgasm' instead of 'in my opinion.'"
Holden laughed out loud.
"What do you say, Bran?" he asked, brushing the boy's hair back carefully from his damp forehead. "Am I going to have to gag you?"
Bran swallowed. "Unless-- it might please you to take me where you could– hear me cry out for you, master."
"Ah, you're good, sweetheart," said Holden cheerfully. "Hear that, Inga? What did he do there?"
"Said what he wanted as if he was thinking of ways to please you, master," said Inga promptly.
"Good girl. And good boy. Let's get you upstairs. Coming, Yves? Jer?"
"Absolutely," Jer grinned, getting to his feet along with Yves as Holden half dragged Bran up from the couch.
"Bran has all the fun," Inga grumbled when the men had gone, except for Jesse, who sat blinking in his corner.
"I'm not sure that was entirely intended as fun, Inga," said Greta gently.
Inga nestled against Greta, who put an arm around her. "Sure looked like fun to me. So, what, was it supposed to be a punishment or something?"
"Punishment is misery as a deterrent to misbehavior," said Alix, still without looking up. "Bran can work up all the punishment he needs from inside his own head. Right now he just needs a little recalibration. Please be quiet, girls. I've got to get this done tonight."
Part Eleven
"Come here, Bran," Holden ordered that evening after dinner, as he settled down at one end of the couch in the lounge, and Bran, with a quick glance at a surprised-looking Inga, obeyed immediately. He started to kneel, but Holden grabbed his arm and pulled him back up, then tugged sharply at the edge of Bran's tunic. "I want this off."
Bran lowered his eyes and said something Jesse didn't catch.
"Bran," said Holden gently. "Wearing clothes is a privilege. One more hesitation and you lose that privilege until further notice."
Paling, Bran yanked his tunic off swiftly and hit the floor before it did, bowing his forehead almost to the carpet in apology as Jesse, seated in an unobtrusive corner with a book he hadn't even glanced at, swallowed hard, disturbed by a faint flicker of excitement at the threat. That's sick. Poor kid. Gods, he looks good like that.
"Eyes on me, sweetheart," Holden said softly, and when Bran lifted his head, Holden reached down to draw the boy up onto his lap, speaking to him too softly for Jesse to hear, but apparently in a series of instructions, as Bran adjusted himself in his master's lap, his long legs stretched out along the rest of the couch, his back against Holden's arm. Smiling, Holden began stroking his chest, drawing small circles around his nipples with an index finger. Bran's cock hardened almost instantly, and he closed his eyes, spots of crimson burning on his cheeks.
Holden bent down and said something, and Bran moved suddenly to put his arms around his master's neck, turning his body so that it was half hidden against Holden's chest. Holden allowed it, wrapping his own arms around Bran and holding him closer while he continued to speak softly with his lips close to Bran's ear. Bran was trembling. He shook his head emphatically, and Holden smiled.
Inga looked around absently for a moment, then caught Greta's eye and moved easily to her side. Greta smiled at her and she sat down, watching Bran and Holden with interest. Jesse was watching, too, and he saw Bran's shivering abate as Holden went on speaking into his ear. When Holden stopped speaking, Bran nodded, then made a small convulsive movement as if to bury himself more deeply in Holden's arms. Holden hugged him hard for a moment, then began kissing him softly, first his lips, then cheeks, chin, nose, eyelids, forehead, temples, covering Bran's face with kisses, coaxing out a slow, irresistible smile.
Jesse watched the other boy's tensed body growing slowly pliant and languid as Holden kissed his throat, his collarbone, then drew his head down to kiss the nape of his neck. He watched Holden's lips, trying to decipher what he was saying to Bran between kisses-- "Beautiful," he thought he saw shaped, more than once, and "dear," and then, just before pressing his lips to Bran's naked shoulder, an unmistakably emphatic "mine." Bran moved slightly into every kiss, not demanding any more than the touch Holden gave him, but rising to meet it with an electric responsiveness that sent a rush of blood to Jesse's cock.
Bran said something inaudible, and Holden grinned, shaking his head, pressing his lips to Bran's forehead. And spoke again, into Bran's hair. Bran nodded again, his face half hidden in his master's neck; Holden nuzzled down the trail of soft hair at his nape, his mouth latched on to the place where neck met shoulder, and then he bit, hard. Bran had been expecting it; his body jerked and shuddered, but he didn't make a sound.
Holden gently grasped Bran's shoulder and peeled him off his own chest, supporting his back with the other arm. Bran, trembling again, reluctantly let his arms slide from around his master's neck, and Holden stroked him soothingly, pressing a kiss to his lips, whispering something in his ear. Bran relaxed slightly as Holden kissed his way down his chest, took his nipple in his mouth, and lapped and nibbled at it gently while Bran breathed hard. At last he pulled back, kissed the hard nub of the nipple, laid his lips to a patch of skin an inch or two above it, and suckled for a moment before biting down. Bran shuddered again, his mouth opening in a silent cry, as Holden's lips and tongue slipped gently down his chest, teeth caught his nipple (a shred of sound slipped out then, the barest breathless hint of a moan), and fastened on to another smooth patch of skin.
Jesse was watching so intently that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Yves spoke in a normal tone of voice.
"Can I help with that, master?" he asked lazily.
"Be my guest," said Holden, and Bran lay very still against his master's arm, watching as Yves got up, crossed to the couch and knelt at the other end of it from Holden, pushing one of Bran's legs off the couch and sitting where it had been, between the now spread legs. He bent down and pressed his lips to the crease between Bran's pelvis and his leg; Bran's back arched, pressing the skin of his collarbone harder against Holden's mouth as Yves' teeth sank into the tender flesh of his inner thigh.
Holden looked up and raised his eyebrows, and Jesse followed his glance to Jer, who was shaking his head, grinning, his hand wrapped around his cock, half covered by his tunic. Jesse would have liked to do the same, but had no intention of giving Holden the satisfaction, should he happen to glance in Jesse's direction. Which he didn't seem particularly likely to do, at the moment.
"What are our thoughts on this?" Yves asked Holden quietly, brushing a fingertip lightly along the length of Bran's cock, so hard now that it stood upright and away from his body, the tip glistening.
"Besides 'a thing of beauty,' you mean?" Holden asked, his mouth hovering above Bran's other nipple, hard already from the barely-there tickle of his breath.
"So you don't want me to...?"
"Go ahead," said Holden, and flicked Bran's nipple with his tongue, starting the boy trembling again. "More where that came from."
Yves grinned and took Bran's cock in his mouth in one quick motion just as Holden's incisors clamped down on his nipple. Bran gave a choking cry and then drew in his breath sharply, biting his lips hard as Yves sucked his cock and Holden, mouth still on his nipple, reached down and wrapped his hand around Bran's balls, kneading gently.
Bran's lips formed the word master, a faint hiss escaping on the st.
After a moment Yves' hand reached up and tapped at the back of Holden's, in a let me gesture, and Holden took his hand away, letting Yves' replace it, and lifted it to Bran's mouth, pressing his fingers between the boy's parted lips. Bran took them in eagerly, sucking and licking with an almost desperate enthusiasm; Holden leaned back to say something in Bran's ear, and Bran squirmed forward slightly, breaking Yves' rhythm for a moment. Holden pulled his hand away and kissed his lips, deeply, forcing Bran's head back as his hand disappeared from view. Bran's guttural groan was only half stifled by his master's mouth, and he continued to whimper softly as Holden kept kissing him, catching his lower lip between his teeth, then cried out again as he came into Yves' mouth, biting back at Holden's lips, Yves licking him clean with long, leisurely strokes of the tongue.
"Holden, love, if you could just keep him a little quieter," said Alix without looking up from her work at the desk.
"Sorry," said Holden, pulling back from Bran's lips. "He's supposed to be keeping silent." Bran bit his own lip as Holden added with a teasing smile into his slave's flushed face, "He seems to be having some trouble following instructions today."
"Then either gag him or take him upstairs, there's a dear," said Alix, turning over a fresh sheet of paper. "I just wrote 'in my orgasm' instead of 'in my opinion.'"
Holden laughed out loud.
"What do you say, Bran?" he asked, brushing the boy's hair back carefully from his damp forehead. "Am I going to have to gag you?"
Bran swallowed. "Unless-- it might please you to take me where you could– hear me cry out for you, master."
"Ah, you're good, sweetheart," said Holden cheerfully. "Hear that, Inga? What did he do there?"
"Said what he wanted as if he was thinking of ways to please you, master," said Inga promptly.
"Good girl. And good boy. Let's get you upstairs. Coming, Yves? Jer?"
"Absolutely," Jer grinned, getting to his feet along with Yves as Holden half dragged Bran up from the couch.
"Bran has all the fun," Inga grumbled when the men had gone, except for Jesse, who sat blinking in his corner.
"I'm not sure that was entirely intended as fun, Inga," said Greta gently.
Inga nestled against Greta, who put an arm around her. "Sure looked like fun to me. So, what, was it supposed to be a punishment or something?"
"Punishment is misery as a deterrent to misbehavior," said Alix, still without looking up. "Bran can work up all the punishment he needs from inside his own head. Right now he just needs a little recalibration. Please be quiet, girls. I've got to get this done tonight."
Part Eleven
