Miss Zarita's take-away - Bryn

==Miss Zarita's takeaway==

Confession: when we played "Truth and Dare" I was asked what fantasies I had about a mistress from Dominion. I replied that I had none. I felt it was true when I said it - I was thinking of recurrent detailed fantasies. As I reflected I realized that I had many, many fantasies, but they were fleeting - partly because I didn't want to get fixated on any mistress who might not be interested, and partly because I am not that sort of fox. I would much rather do stuff than think about it. I have never stayed in one place as long as I have at Dominion, except when I was grounded for a day, and even then I finished making an elevator. I love elevators. Anyway Miss Zarita had said a few minutes earlier she would like to take a straight boy home and have him taken care of by two other boys. I wished it was me she was taking - this story is based on that fantasy, and told from a human point of view, but not the viewpoint of the take-away. I have put bad words in because I know humans use them a lot, and a lot of "cock"s because Miss Zarita likes that in a story, and I couldn't get more than a couple of "bulge"s in.


* * *


Just as I was about to come the mobile phone rang and Curt removed his hand from my cock, picking the device up and pressing buttons announced " Miss Zarita has takeout." Curt has a clipped almost Austrian accent muddied with a ladling of Aussie, although I sometimes think it is put-on, at Miss Zarita's request, no doubt.

Curt is without doubt my curse and my savior. While I am, I might say modestly, the sort of guy that always gets a second look from the ladies, clean cut, above average height, good bearing, blue-green eyes, well built, Curt, is the sort of guy that causes shoppers to collide their carts, sends the attendance figures at ER sky-high as women and gay men report in with cricked necks, in social situations it seems like hostesses leave the room to get nibbles, and their eyes stay behind, admiring his perfect face, his immaculate hair , his sharp suit, provided by Miss Zarita, or if it's one of "those" events his chiseled muscles, and the substantial bulge in his tight silk thong. Speaking of his bulge...

I gasped a little, from that odd sense of loss I am starting to feel when Curt pulls his cock out of me. I am straight as they come - but nearly a year of belonging to Miss Zarita has taught me to appreciate something in my tailhole in a way that probably comes naturally to Curt (who is 100 percent gay - but belongs 100% to Miss Zarita - go figure as they say) and we went to get ready for Miss Zariat'a return, expecting that the moussaka we made will not be gracing her palate, we clean up and dress, returning the unopened red wine to the cellar and preparing the wet bar, Miss Zarita likes to have martinis for her guests, her one fault is to believe that these somehow represent a form of sophistication.... When I say dressed, perhaps I should describe our uniform, in order not to give the wrong impression. We wear starched white collars and cuffs with silk bow ties, black silk socks and highly shined patent leather shoes, white silk gloves and trouser turn-ups. Everything else from ankle to wrist is on full display, and in Curt's case oiled. (My physique doesn't merit oiling and is on display to throw Curt's into relief... I could have muscles like his, but I am forbidden from spending more than fifteen minutes in the gym, and compelled to eat always just that little more than I want to keep my outline a little "soft".) So we were soon prepared for Miss to arrive home, and standing in the hallway to greet her and any guest, we expected a five to ten minute wait, but Miss Zarita drives extremely fast, and it pays to be prepared. I idled the time by watching the reflection of Curt's cock in the hall mirror, pulsing and growing a little stiffer then relaxing again and wonder what he is thinking.

A screech of brakes announced Miss Zarita's arrival home, as always, and Curt opened the door, she entered in company with a man, probably in his late thirties, with that look of very-senior-manager about him, wearing an expensive but not particularly well suited suit - Miss is on a manager kick right now, which I thought would be a relief from the "surfer dudes" - but in a way I'd rather she went back, they have more open characters, and are better tanned. "This is Martin, boys, Sir to you." she said in that classic Aussie drawl of hers, which gets me hard if I don't watch it. "And these are my boys, Curt with the big cock and Bryn with the small one." (When I was new I challenged this "small cock" business , having thought I was at least average. Apparently the average cock size is 6 1/2 inches. My cock is exactly 6 and 3/8 inches - I am certain of that because I have to measure it every day and write the result in a book on the hall table. Miss Zarita's Dominion friends love it. "Oh how's Bryn's cock today? they will ask " Hmm still small I see.... " - it's 1/8 of an inch difference Miss Destiny! .. oh well looks like I am stuck with that. So to speak.)

Martin (or "Sir" to us) stands there his mouth slightly agape for a moment, before spluttering "But they are naked!", Miss Zarita smiles a small moue of a smile, loving his discomfort.

"Yes Martin, I like to keep some cock on display, but tonight I want to get to know yours better." I took her wrap, while Martin reluctantly surrendered his coat to Curt, and allowed himself to be lead into the lounge area. "And besides one cock isn't always enough - I take it you aren't shy?" she trailed her fingers across his bulge "sit on the love-seat with me..." Martin has little choice but to sit on the double leather recliner, alongside Miss Zarita, who flicked some cunningly concealed fastener and transformed her respectable, but hot, outfit into something verging on catwalk material, as Curt and and I approached with the obligatory Martinis, Curt thickening up just a trifle to the trained eye. The couple took the drinks and drained them quickly, Mizz Zarita smooching up to Martin in a most un-mistress-like manner, while we boys kept our faces impassive, though we knew it wasn't just the *sight* of our cocks Martin would have before the night was out. Slowly Martins side of the chair slipped into recline mode under the almost combined weight of the two - and Miss Zarita went husky voiced on him her hand no longer massaging his bulge but starting to unzip him, fingers slipping inside, exploring, no doubt she was tugging his underwear to one side, or down. "Maybe a little blow-job to warm you up?" Her head moved down, Martin had obviously overcome his shyness at any rate, although he couldn't see Curt who had moved off to dim the lights a little, or me - as I was now kneeling close to his knees obscured, if he had tried to sit up, by Mistresses head. She tugged him free, pulling a fair sized uncut cock from the smart suit and tilting it up towards me, my head moved forward into the required position, I flicked my tongue across the tip of his cock a couple of times and again as Miss drew the skin back and forth and then my lips opened to take him into my mouth. His cock was salty and that was a relief, his type aren't always quite so innocuous tasting, often they either something going at the office or are just slobs. I ran my tongue around the glans, tickling the frenulum, teasing, another skill Curt has taught me, bringing him swiftly, so swiftly to the brink, and holding him there, as I do with Curt (since he is forbidden to cum) and as Curt never does to me, (since I am under a different regime entirely), Mistress guided his cock with one hand and undid his belt with the other. While I kept him hovering on the edge of orgasm (definitely not been serviced for a while I think) Miss moves her head back and asked, so innocently, if he was enjoying himself.

I wish I had seen the look on his face as he realized that it was not Miss Zarita who was servicing him, but one of the boys, I heard him gasp and felt him struggle to sit upright but Miss was reaching under the seat and releasing the catch, Curt's strong hands were on his shoulders and the seat moved from merely reclined to horizontal, the headrest moving back even further and Curt's glans was pressing against his lips. He said nothing keeping his mouth firmly closed. Miss's eyes lit up at this and she reached once again under the seat - Velcro is a wonderful thing ladies - and pulled out with a slight ripping sound her number two quirt - a real stinger, although I don't feel it often, my punishments are delegated to Curt, and I get the raw end of the deal on that. "Some people think it's OK to take and not give." she said, eyes sparkling, despite the low lighting. "Once chance Martin.. open up." The poor boy had no idea what his choice is and kept his jaw clenched, Miss nodded to me once and I moved back pulling his pants and underpants to his ankles in one movement then using them to push his ankles up to Curt's waiting iron grasp. Even as we make the maneuver, exposing his smooth skinned ass and finely haired legs, Miss Zarita's quirt comes down, the tip landing half a centimeter below his asshole. Of course Martin let out a yell, or started to as Curt's sizable cock slammed unerringly into his mouth and Miss took another swipe at his ass for sheer pleasure, then nodded at me once again. I moved forward, placing the tip of my cock against his tailhole and pushed hard, giving him no mercy, not wanting one of Miss Zarita's "hurry up" messages myself, feeling his tight sphincter give to the pressure and expand around me, my cock burying itself deep within. I groaned, as the tightness forced an immediate cum out of me, making the sub-vocal noises I had been trained to make, but pulling back immediately and starting to thrust - cumming is not an excuse for boys to stop fucking. "Oh Bryn already? What's today's score Curt?" she asks giving me a tap with her quirt, that translates to pleased affection.

"Eight-nil My Mistress" - referring to my cums and his, the high number AND the low reflecting well on us both, since we are under different regimes.

"Good boys." she replied conversationally, as if we weren't "spit roasting" a straight guy she picked up, maybe half an hour ago while she looked on with approval.

Just then the mobile beeped again. Curt, holding Martin's ankles with one hand reached over and thumbed it off without looking. "Reminder to leave for Confessions My Mistress." (I am not allowed to call her that.) And Miss Zarita stands, looking down at the boy, giving a quick flick of her quirt to his but cheek. Of course Miss and Curt both knew that she was due out, and as usual it's a total surprise to me.

"Well I'll be two hours boy's so change ends in an hour... " She looked down thoughtfully then shook her head " I won't be using this one you can let him come if you want." I was delighted, it's not often I get to actually have my cock come in anything other than Curt's hand, and even though I'm straight, two hours of fucking is a treat, whoever is taking me. Even better since on Confession nights Miss rarely comes home alone, letting herself in and we hear her bedroom door slam, and learn nothing about what happens except what we glean from the cleaning chores the following morning, and her customary injunction not "to mention anything you saw and heard last night to anyone from The Dominion, especially Miss Beaver."

"Yes Mistress" I said and Curt's voice echoed Yes My Mistress."

As Miss swirled out of the front door, snatching her purse from the table and clipping up her gown in one smooth movement, I plunged my cock again and again deep into the take-away's body, approaching my ninth orgasm of the day and, hearing him moan in a mixture of pain and humiliation, and maybe a little lust, I reflected that, at least for tonight, there is one person who doesn't think six and three eighths is "small".