Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part 17

“I'm fine now.”

“And you will feel even better!”

“What if these drugs are really against constipation?”

Kors looked at him and laughed.

“Nik, my love, are you kidding me? A sense of humor is not your greatest strength. Everything will be fine, trust me,” he gently hugged Nik, stroking his head and kissed the cheek that was not covered by hair with his renewed letter on it. He kissed his letter, as he did constantly.

“What do you want for dinner? I will order to cook for you.”

“I don’t know.”

“These sea creatures from the Upper World, although they look disgusting, taste very good.”

“Who smell like a dirty slut?”

“What?! A-ha-ha, Nik, I have no idea what an unwashed slut smells like.”

“Well… like a fish…”

“Well, now, it seems, I will not be able to touch this dish.”

“Sorry.”

“Okay, the black and green grape-like berries are quite tasty.”

“Which are salty?”

“Yes.”

“Oh no.”

“Why? Are they like a dirty whore too?”

“Well, they are wet and salty… but I'm not because of this…”

“Nik! Now I can't eat them either,” Kors laughed, “is there something that does not taste and smell like a whore?”

And Nik laughed too.

“We’ll be right back, and I’ll give the order for the slave to start setting the table. And to properly heat that marble room with hot steam.”

And Kors cheerfully walked through the arches and enfilades, pacing the palace as if it belonged to him, and Nik, limping slightly, silently followed him.

Arel was lying on the bed, and Kors shook his head.

“Arel, how can you be so lazy? You don't do anything at all, you don't do anything. You are not helping us in any way!”

Arel looked at him with haughty indifference and yawned.

“An absolutely useless creature. Cover your mouth with your hand when you yawn. Senseless creature, what should I order to eat? Maybe you should get an injection too, you must be contagious. What am I talking about? And I probably am contagious too. I, too, already have an infection from you. But why didn't I take my doctor with me!”

“Because he’s not really yours, but the doctor of blacks?” Said Nik carefully.

“Well, our doctor of blacks, he doesn’t pretend to be so clever as this red.”

“Because he stayed with seriously wounded Varah.”

“Yes, I let the guts out of him,” Kors smiled. “For you, my love!”

“You seriously injured him, the infection began.”

“Let him die in a puddle of his own shit, there was no need to leave the doctor with him.”

“Zagpeace thought differently.”

“Why are you talking to me now about Zagpeace? I can’t hear about him, and I’m not cold yet, Nik, I’ll be carried away now.”

Nik thought it best to remain silent.

“Arel, don't start biting your nails! Now take your hand off your face!”

Kors looked with regret at Arel’s beautiful aristocratic hand with long thin fingers, “decorated” with black “rings” of unclean ones.

“How you ruined his hand!”

Nik didn’t answer and quickly touched his nose with his hand. Kors caught his hand, pulling it towards him, removing his glove and kissing.

“Stop doing that. Stop it, my naughty Demon bad student!”

“Who?! This is something new, before I was dirty and shaggy for you.”

“Yes. But thanks to my efforts, you began to wash more often, and I take care of your hair. Now we need to start teaching you.”

“Oh…”

Kors sat Nik next to him on the edge of the bed, and, slightly removing his brush from him, began to examine the black fingers:

“How can you paint black the skin under the nails?”

“Well, these are not really nails…”

“Yes, tell me how you can create this horror with yourself.”

“Maybe I should not?”

“Tell me!”

“Well, nails… human nails are ripped out…”

“Well! Further…”

“Black paint is introduced into the wound, then the unclean claws take root.”

“Did you do this with all your fingers at once or one at a time?”

Nik didn’t answer, Kors kissed his hand:

“Do you like what I give you, my Demon Son, do you like it?” He whispered.

“Yeah…”

“This Cartmer, he was looking at you, he thought: “how beautiful”, did you hear it?”

“No. Vitor, don't make it up.”

“Divine beauty of the Upper”, you heard, you are just cunning now. You heard everything.”

“I have heard this many times, as well as exactly the opposite.”

“Arel, come to me, useless stupid creature, ah-ah, why are you so, Arel, so… ah-ah!”

They undressed, and Nik put Kors on his back, he agreed to accept and all opened to meet him:

“Fuck me the way I fuck you,” he whispered, “do to me as I do to you.”

Nikto pulled it out almost to the end and pushed it back sharply, leaning strongly forward. Kors couldn’t help but wheeze under him.

“So?” Nik asked.

“Yes. Yes. More… don't pity me…”

Nik made a few more of the same hard thrusts all the way and hit Kors in the ribs, he twitched under him:

“Ah, damn…”

Nikto again began to fuck him, and at some point, when Kors had already relaxed a little and did not expect this at all, he suddenly quite tangibly knocked him in the balls and standing cock.

“Oh!”

Kors tried to break free, and Nikto slapped him in the face, on the cheek, slapping him tangibly in the face.

“Not! Nik! I don’t do that! Stop doing that!” Shouted Kors.

And Nikto in his thoughts said: “dirty little rubbish, you must be properly punished!”

“What?” And Kors laughed. He lay under his Nik, shuddering with laughter, shading his eyes with his bent elbow, then slightly removed it, looking at Nik from under his arm, and Nik, unable to resist, began to laugh too.

He stopped, without removing the cock from Kors, but not continuing:

“Vitor, stop laughing, I can't stand that!”

“Do I really think so when I'm fucking you?”

“Yes.”

They laughed again.

“Well, no, I just can't come,” said Nik, “you make me laugh.”

“It's strange that you don’t laugh under me when you hear that,” Kors smiled.

“Arel, shut him up at last,” said Nik, and Arel, who had been lying next to him all this time and watching what they were doing, immediately leaned on Kors, sitting down on his face.

“Arel… no, no… um…”

They continued, no longer being distracted, and Nik and Arel, without much imagination, bluntly pounded Kors from different sides, periodically switching places. Kors gave himself up to his young lovers and allowed everything and did for them what they wanted, forgetting about dinner and about a room with marble benches and warm steam. Forgetting everything.

23

Friendly holiday

Karina didn’t understand how to dress and what to wear. The slaves brought a mountain of clothes: underwear, a bunch of fluffy petticoats, corsets, dresses and embroidered capes. But she didn’t want to wear a cape at the ball, especially since this holiday was more for her own people. But at the same time, Karina understood that reds supporting the policy of Lis would still be present there, his father, Igmer, would be there, and she didn’t want to somehow compromise her husband, disgrace him with her inappropriate appearance. And the traditions of the reds towards women were too strict, and Karina was depressed. How should she dress so as not to embarrass herself? The cape, of course, was the simplest and most correct solution, but Karina couldn’t stand it, although now she clearly understood that in this city she would have to wear it, if only just so that they would not stare at her like a black sheep. She turned to the three slaves. Faceless, immovable sacks, they stood at the entrance, waiting for the order of the mistress.