My Master Offered Me to Another Man That Night

By then they were already living together. To the outside world they were a generous landlord and his tenant, a gallery curator who paid little for a room he almost never used. Behind closed doors, Tomás slept at Babacar’s feet and thanked him every time that thick cock opened him without warning.

It had taken him months to get there. At first he only came when he touched himself; now the constant rubbing against his prostate was enough to make him empty on his own, trembling, with no hand on him. It didn’t always happen. But it happened often enough that it had stopped surprising him.

One Sunday afternoon, Babacar set his beer on the table and called him over with a snap of his fingers.

—Tomás. Last night I was talking to Maikel. Do you remember him?

—Of course. The Dominican.

—I don’t know if I told you he likes women and men too.

—You said something. That he was into both sides.

Babacar nodded slowly, weighing his words as he always did when something mattered to him.

—We were drinking. He said his wife bores him a little. I told him I’m happy with you, with your ass. And he told me he envied me. That he’d like to try it.

—Well, give him my thanks. You know I like being liked.

—It wasn’t just that. —Babacar looked him straight in the eye—. He wants to fuck you. I didn’t say yes. I wanted to talk to you first.

Tomás fell silent for a second. Not because of the proposal, but because his master had asked him.

—So you wouldn’t mind?

—It’s not that. Maikel is my friend, my only real one. But the decision isn’t mine alone.

Then Tomás lowered his voice, and his whole body with it, and spoke from the place where he was only a slave.

—You decide, sir. You’re my master, you’re in charge. If you want to offer me to your friend, then you offer me. All I ask is that you never hand me over to a white man or a kid. But Maikel is a big mulatto, strong, a real stud. I’d be delighted to take him.

—You’re a faggot to the bone —Babacar said, almost tenderly.

—I am. And with you, more and more. I’m already addicted to having your cock inside me, sir.

Babacar finished his beer in one gulp.

—Then I’ll talk to him.

—Are you going to fuck me alone or in a threesome, with you?

—However he wants. When I give a friend a gift, the friend decides. That’s only fair.

***

Maikel didn’t just decide: he planned it in such detail that it made clear how long he’d been thinking about it. He wanted to start by drinking on the sofa with Babacar while Tomás served them, but barely dressed. So barely dressed that he sent over a ridiculous thong first, an animal-print little pouch that covered only the front and shrank down at the back to a tiny cord, lost between the cheeks. He handed it to Babacar so he could put it on the boy before he arrived.

He wanted to grope him however he liked. He wanted to see the owner slap him in front of him, a clean slap, and hear him say, “Behave yourself with my friend, understood?” Then he wanted to strip them both and watch the submissive go from one mouth to the other and start again. That’s how he asked for it, and that’s how it happened.

The doorbell rang when they were already halfway through a beer.

—It’s Maikel —Babacar said without getting up—. Go and open the door.

—Like this, as I am?

—Of course. What do you think he’s here for?

Tomás crossed the living room with the cord biting into his cleft at every step, and opened the door.

—Good afternoon, Maikel. Welcome.

The Dominican came in, closed the door behind him, and let out a low whistle.

—Babacar, what a fine slut you’ve got. Did you see how that little thong fits him?

—Very well. Just how you like it, right, asshole?

—Just how I like it, yes. He looks so damn slutty. —Maikel tilted his head—. Aren’t you going to punish him for opening the door like that, half-naked?

Babacar stood up, gripped his jaw hard, and landed two sharp slaps, one on each cheek. Then he spat in his face. Tomás flinched. He knew his master was going to hit him in front of the guest, but he hadn’t expected the spit, much less for him to humiliate him like that in front of another man. It was as if a switch had been flipped: everything in him hardened and he was ready for anything that came next.

—That’s how I like it, fuck —Maikel said, delighted—. See? I can’t do this to my wife even in my dreams. That’s why I like your boy. Can I give him a few too? I’m getting the urge.

—Of course. When I give a friend a gift, I give it without conditions.

—Best in the ass. Just look at those cheeks! You know it, right? You know what kind of ass your slut is carrying?

—I know. Big, white, and not a hair on it.

—The few I get I shave off, sir —Tomás murmured.

—That’s exactly what someone like you should do —Maikel said—. Here.

The smack sounded like a gunshot. The Dominican’s five fingers were left marked white and red on one cheek; a second later the other landed, identical, on the opposite one.

—Had to leave them even —Maikel laughed—. Balance. All right, little slut, start taking our clothes off. Mine and your black man’s.

Tomás obeyed quickly. He was curious about that cock, and when he freed it he liked what he saw: it was already hard, and with the first lick it grew even more, until it was rock-hard against his tongue. He thought Babacar had made the right call in offering him up. He had a huge mulatto in front of him who had started out by punishing his ass, and behind him a master who wasn’t going to just stand there watching. It was going to be easy to get him nice and worked up. He took it into his mouth eagerly, swallowing it down to the throat. He wasn’t a novice anymore.

In the middle of the blowjob he felt Babacar behind him, pulling aside the thong’s cord, spitting, and entering him without much preamble. His master knew full well that he accepted pain, that he even sought it out. Tomás shuddered; they had barely prepared him, and all he did was swallow Maikel’s cock whole, all the way down, leaving nothing out. He was impaled from both ends at once, and he liked knowing himself that way: the thin young white man in the middle of two mature men, a mulatto and a black man.

Afterward they switched places. Later Maikel wanted to taste the boy’s ass, and with no disgust at all that it had just been used by two cocks, he plunged in his tongue and worked it until he had him moaning. Tomás went crazy; in the end he asked Babacar to let him suck while the other was eating his ass, both mouths taking care of him at once.

Maikel then suggested they both sit on the sofa and have the submissive impale himself in turns, from one cock to the other. Tomás did it face-first and then with his back turned, opening himself for each one. His ass was already yielding without effort, and as he rode up and down he thought something he wouldn’t say out loud: that those two men, of whom so much had once been said as slaves in other centuries, had every right to be masters for once. And that if anyone was going to end up sore, burning, marked, it had to be him. The white slave.

The moment came when none of them could take any more. They agreed to cum at the same time, one in his ass and the other in his mouth. Maikel kept the ass; he said Babacar had already had plenty of it. They got into position, and the Dominican slapped his buttocks in time with the thrusts. Feeling one cock behind him and another between his lips, Tomás knew he was almost there.

—Almost there, mate? —Maikel panted—. I’m dying to let it go.

—Whenever you want —Babacar said—. I can’t hold out.

—Oh, yes, fuck —Tomás pulled the cock out of his mouth for a second—. Give me both, it’s the first time I’ve taken two at once.

—Now, now! —Babacar roared.

—Me too, take that, faggot —Maikel growled—. I’m cumming!

When Tomás heard them cum, it was as if he were absorbing what both of them felt. He felt the first hot jolts in his ass and the mouthful at the same time, and he emptied without touching himself, with a trembling that clenched his sphincter in spasms. Those contractions squeezed the last spurts out of Maikel amid grunts.

—Babacar —the Dominican said, pulling away slowly—, you’d already told me I’d like your girl, but I had no idea. She’s one of the best things I’ve ever tasted. Now I really am jealous of you. I want a repeat.

—A repeat, yes. But Tomás is mine. My slave, not yours. Let that be clear.

That was what he liked hearing most. Not the sex, not the two cocks: the word. His master had said “slave,” and he had said it with a sense of possession. That word had weighed on him for years, long before he met Babacar, since some books he’d read as a teenager that had left a mark impossible to explain. His obsession had always been that, being the slave himself, turning upside down everything he’d read about other times and other places.

***

The relationship took hold and became lasting. Outwardly, two friends; inwardly, a master and what he already considered, without qualification, his property. Babacar decided for him, ordered him, corrected him, and cared for him in his own way. Tomás brought him his towel to the bathroom, dried his feet, helped him get dressed. Tiny details that would mean nothing to anyone else and that made him absurdly happy. He didn’t want another life.

Maikel visited them every three or four weeks. There wasn’t always sex, or threesomes, or one-on-one encounters with the boy. But often there was, and Tomás looked forward to those visits eagerly, because the Dominican brought a rough sensuality Babacar didn’t have. In short, Tomás was happy. Very happy. And Babacar, though he almost never said it, knew that that quiet, obedient man was what he loved most in the world.