An Offer of Service

“You are quite bold, apprentice Zauvym,” said Master Velkon’yss.

Ashenivir dropped his head respectfully, looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes. That he had made it this far was something of a miracle—he had scarcely expected Master Velkon’yss to agree to speak with him in private, let alone allow him into his personal quarters. He had hoped for this, yes, and certainly he had dreamt of it far more than was reasonable, but Rizeth Velkon’yss had an icy reputation and was not given to acquiescing to the requests of mere apprentices.

“Why, though,” the Master continued, “do I get the distinct impression that you have done this before?”

“Perhaps because I have, Master Velkon’yss,” Ashenivir answered. “There are others I know who have…desires…they wish fulfilled. I simply make myself available.”

Never mind that he had never approached a Master of the Arcanum before, except in his private fantasies. This particular scenario being one he had run over and over in his mind until he had either to make it a reality or give up on it entirely.

“Make yourself available,” Master Velkon’yss gave a cold twitch of a smile. “Hm. And derive your own enjoyment, no doubt.”

Ashenivir kept his head bowed, hands clasped behind his back. He had not been thrown out yet, but there was still time. He tried to keep his hopes on a tight rein.

“I suppose you make claim of some payment or other, for such services as you insinuate to offer me?”

“I have on occasion been given trinkets, tokens of appreciation,” Ashenivir replied, evasively. Master Velkon’yss took a step forward and hooked a finger under his chin and lifted his head to look him in the eye.

“I do hope, apprentice, that you are not imagining that I will lavish you with trinkets and tokens for these salacious advances.”

Rizeth’s eyes were a beautiful bright, clear crimson, like perfectly cut rubies. They bored into him, as intense as they ever were when waiting for an answer in one of his classes—more so for their closeness now. Ashenivir had thought of those eyes often, had more than once called Master Velkon’yss’ stern face to mind when indulging in his own pleasure, alone or otherwise. The Master’s harsh demeanour tended to drive off most other students who idly fancied the teacher—not so for Ashenivir. The sharp words in class and the high expectations of discipline he held for his students only made Ashenivir crave his undivided attention all the more.

And now, it seemed, he had it.

“No, Master Velkon’yss,” he kept his voice soft, demure. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

Rizeth took hold of his chin, twisting Ashenivir’s head sharply to either side, examining him. Ashenivir considered himself quite a handsome prospect, vain as such thoughts might have been. His deep violet skin was smooth and well-maintained; his features finely made and just a little delicate, with soft lips and deep red eyes. Master Velkon’yss raked his gaze over him, brows drawing into a slight frown as his eyes wandered down Ashenivir’s body.

He kept himself well-shaped to his own standards—more so than many of his fellow apprentices—and thought he dressed well enough with the resources available to him. Nowhere near so fine as someone like a Master of the Arcanum could manage, but certainly not ugly by any stretch. The silence stretched on until eventually Master Velkon’yss dropped his chin.

“I suppose you are tolerably pleasant on the eye,” he said. Ashenivir buried a triumphant smile, then gave a startled gasp as Rizeth put a hand on the top of his head and pushed him roughly to his knees. He looked up, lips parted as his heart began to race, and was met with an impatient expression.

“Get on with it, apprentice,” Master Velkon’yss said, “I have other business to attend to today.”

“Yes, Master Velkon’yss,” Ashenivir said.

Trying not to let his eagerness show and with heat already coiling within him, Ashenivir reached up and pushed aside the fall of Master Velkon’yss’ robes. The leggings beneath were close fit, their laces neatly fastened, and the cling of them showed the Master’s legs to great effect. His legs—and other things that Ashenivir was far more interested in.

He quickly undid the laces, wetting his lips with a slow slide of his tongue, angling his head to look up at Master Velkon’yss as he took the other drow’s cock into his hands. Oh, none of his fantasies had ever had the weight that reality held, hot and hard against his fingers. Rizeth held his gaze as Ashenivir took the head of his cock into his mouth, caressing the underside with a press of his tongue. Rizeth’s expression was perfectly neutral; the utter dispassion there a perfect counterpoint to the clear evidence of his arousal in Ashenivir’s mouth.

He leaned forwards, slowly taking the length of Rizeth’s cock as far down as he could, letting his throat open and tasting the slight bitterness of pre-cum against the back of his tongue.

“Commendable,” Master Velkon’yss said. “But, as I told you—I do have other business to attend to.”

He grabbed the half-braided tail of Ashenivir’s hair and wrapped it around his fist. Ashenivir’s eyes widened, and he had half a second to gasp before Master Velkon’yss yanked his head down deeper onto his cock.

A most interesting boy indeed, Rizeth thought, hauling Ashenivir’s head back so that his mouth almost pulled free of his cock before he forced it back down again. Wet, choked sounds emerged from the apprentice alongside definite groans of pleasure as Rizeth choked him again and again. Not quite how he had anticipated his afternoon going, but certainly not unpleasant.

Rizeth had to admire his boldness in approaching as he had. Despite what he’d said, the apprentice certainly must hope to gain something from the arrangement—though just what that might be, Rizeth was as-yet uncertain. For his part, he did not intend on indulging the boy any further than this brief moment of release.

Yet Ashenivir did insist on looking up at him, eyes wide and watering at the force with which Rizeth was manipulating his head, thrusting deep into his mouth with little regard for the other drow’s comfort. If the apprentice had wanted consideration and care, he ought to have stuck with those others he claimed to have approached. He would not get such things from Rizeth.

Then again…

Rizeth studied Ashenivir closely, watching drool run down his chin, noting the bright and eager gleam in his eyes. Perhaps it was not consideration that this one wanted. Another muffled moan vibrated around his cock—a not unpleasant sensation, if he was to be honest. He tightened his grip in Ashenivir’s hair, holding his head still for a moment with his cock fully engulfed in the apprentice’s mouth. Ashenivir made soft, half-choked noises, swallowing against his cock over and over. His face was flushed, with a pretty, almost midnight-blue stain spreading across his cheeks.

His hands, Rizeth noticed, were busy at work between his own legs, stroking and squeezing with a kind of rapid desperation that matched the wide and needy look in his eyes. No, consideration was not on this one’s mind at all.

How curious.

Deciding to test a theory, he loosened his grip on Ashenivir’s hair a little and ordered,

“Put your hands behind your back.” He expected a moment of surprise, resistance, perhaps even defiance. With the boldness of Ashenivir’s approach, Rizeth thought he might be the type for that. What he got instead was instantaneous obedience. Not letting his surprise show, he continued. “Keep them there. If you make me waste a spell to hold you, I will be exceptionally displeased.”

He hadn’t intended to let quite so much dominance into his tone, yet Ashenivir did not seem offended. He could not respond, of course, his mouth being full as it was of Rizeth’s cock, but he made a noise of affirmation in the back of his throat. Rizeth was quietly pleased to note him clasping his own elbows behind his back. Such easy compliance, such swift obedience…

He could muse upon that later. For now, there was this and a myriad of other things to finish before the day was through. He re-wrapped Ashenivir’s hair around his hand and pulled his head back, letting him free a moment to catch his breath. He slid his cock alongside Ashenivir’s face as the apprentice panted and pressed his cheek to the length of it, letting out a hum that was almost a whimper. With his lips parted and his eyes shining, Rizeth could quite see why the others he had involved himself with had been disposed to bestow trinkets and tokens upon him.

He’d had enough breathing room, Rizeth decided. He pulled Ashenivir’s mouth back to his cock, using the wet warmth of it as he might use his own hand to seek nothing but the finish of his own pleasure.

Ashenivir’s cock ached. Each time Rizeth’s cock hit the back of his throat, making him gag, his own twitched with need, desire vibrating throughout his entire body. He wanted so badly to touch himself, and the fact that he had effectively been forbidden to do so only made him harder. Master Velkon’yss was proving just as demanding in this regard as he was in all others, just as Ashenivir had hoped. His scalp stung with the tightness of the grip upon his hair, his jaw ached at being kept open so long.

Goddess, but he never wanted it to end.

His gaze had gone unfocused, Rizeth’s face no more than a blur above him. There was only the slide of his cock between his lips again and again, the taste of it filling his mouth. Moans escaped him, paced in time with Master Velkon’yss’ forceful thrusts, and he squeezed his elbows tight to keep his faintly aching arms behind his back.

Master Velkon’yss had told him to put them there. Ashenivir would not disappoint him.

Rizeth’s cock twitched in his mouth, and Ashenivir found his head pulled close against the Master’s crotch—all the warning he got. He choked slightly, swallowing instinctively the hot flood that suddenly filled his mouth. A little escaped his lips as Master Velkon’yss pushed his head away, spattering to the floor as he gasped for air, chest heaving.

He was still painfully hard.

“An acceptable performance, apprentice,” Master Velkon’yss said, dropping Ashenivir’s hair and stepping back. He tidied himself away, straightening his robes and frowning at the damp spot on the floor between them.

“Clean that up.” His eyes roved over Ashenivir’s debauched figure—hair a mess, lips swollen, cock twitching. “And put that away.”

“At—at once, Master Velkon’yss.” Ashenivir got to his feet as smoothly as he could manage, forcing his hand not to linger as he pushed his cock away and tugged his robes into place. The prestidigitation to clean the floor was but a minor twist of magic, and afterwards Ashenivir hesitated, uncertain if he was dismissed. Master Velkon’yss had seated himself at his desk and pulled a large tome towards him, carefully leafing through its frail pages.

“Was there something more, apprentice?” he asked without looking up. Ashenivir swallowed.

“Only that…only to say that you may call upon me, should you wish my services further, Master,” he said, flushing. Master Velkon’yss flicked a hand and a mage hand pulled the door open.

“Attend your studies,” was all he said. Ashenivir gave another bow and hurried out. He smoothed his hair as he went, rubbing at his lips to remove and hide any trace of what had just occurred. He sped up through the halls of the Arcanum, cock throbbing, and was thankful for the loose robes that hid the strained arousal between his legs.

Once he’d made it back to his rooms, he flung the door shut behind him, fumbling to lock it with one hand as the other grabbed desperately at his cock. He came undone in seconds, making a mess of his hand and his robes and not caring in the slightest. Trembling, he slid to the floor with his back pressed against the door, breathing hard.

He prayed that Master Velkon’yss would call upon him again.