For variety, Giovanni whipped the man's back, spreading the flogger across every inch of him. The Dasklovian's ass had already turned to scarlet. Julie wished she could kiss it and give comfort. Was he feeling what she was-this sense of total abandonment and sexual frustration? She could not reach her own pussy, could not get herself off and neither could he-not as long as he chose to remain like this, a virtual slave to the Maestro.
"Let us see if he is ready to beg,” announced Giovanni. He put his hand on Grigori's back, his other holding the leather stranded flogger, rubbing it up under his belly as he asked the question in Dasklovian.
Grigori replied in a long string of words, vrastoya prominent among them. Ambrosiano showed no mercy, flicking the leather strands across the man's cock. Julie could see Grigori was fighting the urge to move or to react in some way.
"He must be broken,” explained Giovanni. “Stripped of all willpower. He will take his penetration as a slave takes on his master."
Julie held her breath. The great Maestro was coming back over to her. “We need something for lubrication,” he smiled cagily. “Do you have any suggestions?"
She knew immediately what he had in mind. “Signor, please don't…"
He ripped the gown open from the neck, just as Grigori had with the other one earlier. “I will,” he defied, making handfuls of her exposed, captive breasts. “Because I can. Are you sufficiently wet, my lovely wench, or do you need more of a whipping?"
Julie hated that he could do this to her. “I don't want to feel this,” she said foolishly.
"Yes you do. More than anything.” He bent and bit her nipple. “Admit it."
She moaned out loud, so terribly confused as to good and bed, pleasure and pain. All she knew was that she was not ready to quit yet, all her protests aside. “Yes,” she cried, the word stretched into a snake train of sound.
"Bene,” he murmured. “Bella ragazza."
Julie came against his fingers, a tiny little ripple of a climax as he took away a finger's worth of her pungent sex fluid. He had called her beautiful and for once in her life she was believing it.
Her fresh come was delivered straight to Grigori's ass. Giovanni parted the still red cheeks, smearing it at the entrance to his narrow, puckered channel. Twice he went back to Julie for more, each time inducing fresh spasms in the woman.
On the third trip, he used her cream to lather up his own shaft. Julie licked her lips, longingly. In vain she pulled at the cuffs still holding her wrists and ankles. This was indeed the torture he'd promised it would be. And more.
"Such a patient little thing,” he touched his fingers to her lips teasingly. “Waiting your turn so well."
She sucked at them, cleaning her own juices away.
"Enough,” he denied her. “Now you will watch again."
Grigori was still breathing quite heavily. Giovanni climbed behind him on the bed. Grigori's ass was still deliciously pink. He'd been subjected to corporal punishment and now he would be invaded, taken to a place of intimacy she had only ever witnessed between a man and a woman.
The Maestro worked slowly, teasing the man's asshole a while before attempting insertion. Grigori was a rock of endurance, though the motions of his spine gave some indication of what he might be enduring.
"He is going to take it all the way,” predicted Giovanni, lining up his pointed cock with its intended target.
Pressing one hand to the ass of the more muscular man, Giovanni made the initial connection. “Grigori, vrastoya,” he declared, making clear his intent to conquer.
Grigori made the attempt to relax his anal muscles. The shaft was moving in under great pressure, the white haired Director's face locked in determination. Julie drew a tiny, ghost-like breath as the curved penis began to disappear into Giovanni's hole. He pulled back a little and then moved forward, trying to build up momentum. With each forward push he made it a little deeper. His face softened in pleasure, even as Grigori's showed the mixed feelings of fullness and invasion.
He was being had, used in the ass. Fucked by another man.
Grigori made a grunting sound and pushed up. Giovanni grabbed the man's waist with his hands, steadying himself for the counter thrust. The cock was more than half gone. Would he make it all the way? Giovanni wanted it and Grigori, too. They were two male animals, sweat beading on their skin, their hair like wild manes of black and white, sleek muscles reflected in the moonlight. The vampire and the werewolf, she thought.
True to form, Giovanni bore down, biting into the neck of the stronger Dasklovian man. Grigori cried out, but not in pain. The pace was furious, the unleashed power awe-inspiring. Giovanni wanted total possession, and he was claiming it, his hand on the other's cock, milking it. Would they come together? It was going to be soon, very soon. The sinews on both men's necks looked ready to pop. Their nipples were fully swollen, their balls ready to explode. No more words, they were reduced to a language of grunts.
"Oh, yes,” cried Julie. “It's so good. So fucking hot."
Giovanni reared back. Was this the moment? No, he was withdrawing. But why? He couldn't stop now!
Smacking Grigori's ass hard, he issued an order. The big man rolled onto his back, toppling heavily. Spreading his massive thighs, he exposed himself. His arms were over his head, wide apart. She thought Giovanni intended simply to suck him off, but as she watched him move his limbs, spider-like, she saw it was mutual pleasure he had in mind. Each man's head was over the other man's cock. They were going to fellate each other.
Grigori opened wide. Julie felt a delicious tugging at her pussy as he consumed the coating of her own juices from off of Giovanni's shaft. An entirely different feeling came over her as she watched Giovanni take Grigori's cock. She was a bit jealous, but also wickedly excited. To see those world famous lips, doing something so forbidden.
Damn, he was a good cocksucker, too. He was working the shaft deep, lubricating it well, providing all the suction to make Grigori arch his back and clench his fists. They were fused so well, nearly the same height, the coronas of their hair covering each other's crotches completely, their healthy, greedy bodies wanting so much more.
They were deep throating each other, gurgling, swallowing each other like only men could do. It was enough to make Julie think maybe men were better for each other. And yet she needed in this scene, so bad. They might reduce her to a whimpering puddle, but she'd take it, whatever they gave.
Never had she seen a woman enjoying cock sucking like these two. A pair of lions, they started rolling, twice switching positions. Giovanni was briefly beneath and then back on top again. Their hands were grappling for any flesh they could find. Ass cheeks to hold and squeeze. And balls to glom onto, pulling the testicles closer to slap against their cheeks.
At last, when the pressure could build no more, they wrapped their arms hard and tight about one another. From lions, they converted to hissing, electric snakes, convulsing, perfect muscles rippling, bare flesh undulating. Their spines arching, calves flexing, biceps curled. Inseparable, primal, lust driven to the marrow.
Grigori began to spasm first. He was coming ahead of Giovanni, though the older man was not far behind. He, too, was showing the telltale signs, buttocks raging, body contorting. They sucked at one another's sexes, drinking down the warm, thick fountains of life. Actively they worked on swallowing one another's loads, continuing to lick at each other as their erections subsided. Julie felt the pinging in her stomach as she realized that all too soon those cocks would be hers to reawaken. And then, once she had done so, these wild beast men would be turning their predatory energy in her direction.