Sex in C Major
Chapter 78

"Why would I like a fantasy where that happened?"

"When something hurts, your body shoves out a load of chemicals to cope with it. Apparently some of them feel good."

"Apparently?"

"Hey, I got a D in GCSE biology. Ask Yannis, he'll know," Daz advised.

Stefan dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Hey."

He glanced up.

"Don't ask why you like something. Just know if you like it or not."

Stefan chewed the corner of his lip. He had liked it. More than liked it. He was still half-aroused, his blood hot in his veins. Jack had fucked him bloody against that wall, then cut him down and made him lick the mess from the plaster. Then he'd been taken into a dining room and fucked on a table, with D-his master watching from the doorway. And when he'd been ripped apart, cum leaking from both sides, he had been turned onto his side like a rag doll, and made to suck his master off in thanks for being gifted to Jack.

He was still turned on from the blowjob, even though his master had simply stood and allowed it, arms folded and frowning, rather than thrust or fucked his face.

With a chill, Stefan realised he had wanted to have his face fucked. As hard and brutally as the rest of him. While the stranger who'd ripped him apart watched.

"What's going through your head?" Daz asked. He braced his hands either side of Stefan's hips on the counter. Stefan found himself staring at Daz's fingers. Long. Thick. Rough when he was fucked on them.

"I shouldn't like this."

"Why not?"

"It's " Sick.

Daz waited.

"Weird," Stefan said finally.

"Lot of people are weird, Stefan."

"Nobody wants to be a slave."

"Not literally, no. That's why you have safewords."

But Stefan didn't want to use his safewords. He didn't want to fail. And how sick was that, that he was more worried about disappointing his master than being made to crawl on the floor and have strangers fucking him until he bled?

"Some people feel better handing the control over to someone else," Daz said quietly. "You said you feel safer in the cuff. You've spaced out a few times. You've felt better after a scene with me than before."

It was true. But it couldn't be true. It shouldn't be true.

"Want to play a game?"

Stefan jumped at the sudden switch.

"Uh-"

"Seems to me you need to have this unpicked a little. So. You can ask me ten questions, and I will answer them. If you can guess correctly whether I'm lying or not, I will do whatever you want to your body for one minute, before you have to ask another question."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want."

Stefan chewed the corner of his lip. "What's-what's the catch?"

"After your ten questions, it's my turn. But you have to answer me truthfully."

"What-what do I get?"

"Nothing. That's your payment for learning things about me and getting ten minutes of whatever you want."

"If I guess right."

"If."

Stefan hesitated.

The fact was, he really didn't know much about Daz. And most of it was what Yannis had told him. Stefan didn't know what Daz did for a living, or how he'd ended up in Leeds as a Brummy. Or why...

Why he liked doing what he did to Stefan. Why he wanted slaves. Why he kept this up. The one night stand, the original fuck, Stefan could understand that. But to keep going? Why did Daz do it? They couldn't both be fucked up in this thing; that would be a disaster. There had to be a reason, right?

"Okay."

Daz grinned. "Go on then. Bedroom."

Stefan slid down off the bathroom counter and headed into the master bedroom. Yannis had gone out-apparently some social at the university-but he'd left the place a bit turned upside down. Stefan twitched the sheets into rough place before settling against the pillows, unsure how Daz wanted him.

No, he mentally corrected himself. How, for the first ten minutes, he wanted Daz.

Or...how he wanted Daz to want him.

Or something.

He decided to simply sit cross-legged, back to the headboard, and picked at the cotton sheets as Daz meandered in and closed the door behind him. He seemed to take cue from Stefan, sitting on the footboard and leaning forward to prop his hands on his elbows.

Then he grinned.

"Go on, then. Question one."

Stefan swallowed.

What could he ask? What should he ask? He wanted to know more the mundane, silly things-but the opportunity seemed to scream for the more serious things. Like why- "Why do you keep slaves?"

"Because I enjoy it."

Stefan stared at his face. Relaxed. Open. The answer had been simple and quick. And

"True."

The smile widened. "Yep. So. One minute. What do you want?"

Stefan licked his lips. What did he want? In truth, he'd wanted to replace things out rather than fuck more. His whole body hurt. His nipple was covered in antiseptic cream. He needed time.