The Mist and the Lightning

Chapter 9                They returned to Nik and Arel’s tent. “You have walked enough?” Prince Arel asked when he saw Kors and smiled at him, while continuing to hold a smoking cigarette with his lips. “Walked?! I’ve been kicked out!” Kors replied indignantly, Arela’s condescending smile pissed him off, “Did you miss me, prince?” “Yes,” Arel answered laconicly, as usual, and a sly smile continued to snake on his black lips. “Our Vitor, as always, was jerking off to me in his head all day, and then went to have fun with Zaf,” Nik explained. He put aside his crutch, threw back his hood, dropped his cloak from his shoulders, and, seeing his native blond hair, Kors calmed down a little. The demon became the same, became the human Nik. “I was not...” Kors even stuttered indignantly. “And you’re jealous, right? Are you jealous of Zaf?” “Pfft,” Nik chuckled without answering. He took off his mask, and Kors saw that under it his face was still wrapped in wide black strips of bandages. But Nik was obviously changing bandages, he was bandaged differently, not as tightly as before. The strip covered the head and forehead under the now regrown bangs, but the eyes were not as much obscured as before. Kors saw that Nik had made them up again, thickly stroked with black both above and below. A couple of strips of fabric under the eyes left his nose covered, but a ring stuck out from under the bandages. The lower part of the face, under the nose, the mouth, and the lower jaw were bandaged more tightly, and a gap was cut in the bandages for the mouth. Nik removed his gloves, casually tossing them on his bed of skins. At the same time, he first took off the ring, carefully laid it on the table, then took off his gloves, and then put the ring back on his finger. Kors was flattered that Nik liked his gift, he treated it carefully and wore it with obvious pleasure. But Kors also involuntarily noted with bitterness that his son’s hands were trembling, and his fingers were slightly twisted. He wanted so much to grab his black hand and try to rub it, relieve muscle tension, so that his son would relax. Arel handed Nik a half-smoked cigarette. Nik inserted it into the gap cut in the bandages and blew out the smoke. “I went to Zafu, and you immediately came for me!” couldn’t resist and continued Kors. He stood at the door in some confusion, not understanding where to go next. “Vitor, shut up, I came for you because you are mine,” Nik replied, continuing to smoke. “And what should I do now?” “You know what to do.” “What?” “You know.” Kors understood. He slowly knelt at the entrance. “Now, will you cover my eyes?” “No, what’s the point? I still can’t take off the bandages yet, you’re lucky,” Nik replied calmly. “What’s up with your scar?!” “You are talking about it again?! If you even say a word to me about my scar, I’ll fucking... I’ll hit you!” Nik quickly put out his cigarette in the ashtray. Kors quickly and cautiously looked up at him with his expressive dark brown eyes: “Oh, yes, I used to get kisses from you, and now I get only blows!” Kors made an offended face. Nik approached him and Kors involuntarily cringed. He smelled Nik’s familiar and himelike smell, the smell of fumes and strong tobacco, and took a breath, closing his eyes to feel it more strongly. He cringed, expecting a blow. Nik reached out and ran his fingertips through Kors’ hair, over a strand of white, very soft and gentle. He withdrew his hand as if with an effort. He loves him! Kors got it! Nik loves him and won’t hit him. He relaxed, not opening his eyes and continuing to inhale his scent, feeling that, despite the constant stink of strong booze and cigarettes, Nik smelled of another, such a strange, slightly sweet inviting smell, the smell of decay and warm damp earth. He felt it before, but he couldn’t determine it for himself, and now it dawned on him! The smell of death! The smell of black water! Which remains forever! “Well, don’t start sniffling,” Nik said affectionately, “how strangely you breathe,” he laughed softly. “You smell like black water, I just realized it! It doesn't matter if you are dirty or clean, it is the smell of the skin, you are soaked through with it! Have you taken black water?” “Now? No,” Nik shook his head in a negative gesture, “I need it, but I didn’t take it. I don’t want.” “Please be careful!” “Well, what can I do?” Nik said indifferently. “You know, I actually really liked being your porcelain doll. What is the name of this game? It is usually played by girls. They play with their dolls: dress them up, comb their hair, feed them. They play school or hospital. It was so nice, I would play as much as you want, I would even live in your basement like a doll in a box, is that what you wanted? In the end, you would put me on a chain and put a bag on my head, as you like, I know, so be it... I would obediently wait until you come to play with me, and I would sit on a chain with a bag on my head. And I wouldn’t hang myself like that stupid slave of yours.” “You better believe it!” Kors disagreed. “You would be quick to ask to go play cards and get drunk. I know your nature...” “Well, no, I’m generally accustomed to sitting in one place for a long time and being limited...” “Really? Why did you quit your game then?” “Well, I’m sorry, I really want to be your doll, but I can’t for good, I need to complete tasks, and study with you, develop you.” Kors didn’t know if Nik was serious or joking. “I didn’t play mother-daughter with you! Maybe you played with me, portraying a doll, but I wasn’t playing play!” He shouted indignantly. “I sincerely treated you and taught you! And you keep reminding me of the bag. You are cynically mocking now at my care and desire to help you! Nothing is truly sacred to you!” “Funny!” Nik went back to the table and poured himself some wine. “I don’t want to sort things out now and argue who played with whom,” Kors said annoyed. He didn’t like this conversation, and it seemed that with such derogatory comparisons with a stupid girl who plays with her doll, Nik mocked him and his sincere concern for his son, devaluating ​​his efforts and humiliating him. “I wasn’t playing,” he repeated stubbornly. “Stop making me emotional! And when I realized that everything around me was a game and a lie, and you just fooled me around your finger, I had the courage to tell you the truth right in your face. But you almost killed me for my honesty!” Nik laughed merrily. “You said you need to teach me?” Kors didn’t give up. “Do it! Teach me! Why are you not teaching me? Instead of teaching, you drive me away! Throw me out! You’re laughing! I’m ready to learn! I’m not good at watching life, I see one thing, then another, then it’s not clear what. Childhood, thoughts, all mixed up, not structured. I rush about in these other people’s lives, then I fit into the owner, then I see everything with my own eyes, as an outside observer. I don’t understand what clear algorithms and techniques need to be applied in order to see what I need and the way I want, and not in fits and starts. Nik, if you’re a teacher, there must be some method of teaching. I always apply a technique, logic, a systematic sequence from simple to complex...” “From proverbs to muddy shit from the code of true blacks about sheep?” Nik clarified, wiping his mouth covered with bandages – it was uncomfortable for him to drink from a mug. “This is not muddy shit, but the legacy of the Holy Fathers!” “I liked the proverbs more.” “Of course! No doubt!” “You study, Vitor, you memorize, you train. Be patient.” “Is that all you can tell me? Maybe there is not only the practice of the “hit and miss method”, but some kind of clear formula? Sequence of certain actions? Ritual? Like – I spit three times over my left shoulder and see the object’s childhood. I say “Stop, that’s enough!” and stop seeing childhood. I switch to the memories I need at the moment. I drank a glass of wine and say a spell, and see an object at a party. Give me theory! I’m poking back and forth like a blind kitten!” “Theory without practice is useless, because everyone is a little different, and what works for one may not work for another.” “But are there any fundamentals? That’s exactly that everyone is “slightly different”, but in fact, they are all the same, at the basic level they were created by higher forces according to a template...” “Vitor, you studied this base while still in the service and working with any…objects. Read a hundred books about swordsmanship, and you will enter into a duel and you will understand a thousand times more, well... or you will die,” said Nik. “But they teach the basics of combat! I need scripts!” “Well, you know them! And in fact, everyone knows the basics of communication, they are inherent in human nature. They just don’t use them, they never think about it. And you thought, closely followed the actions of others, observed and applied your discoveries in practice. You just need to be clear about your intentions. It shakes you because you often don’t understand what you want. What do you want in the end from this object? Understand what you want from him, what is your goal, and act on that basis. If you want to drink wine, you stretch out your hand to the bottle and take it from the table, you don’t try to take it with your foot, do you?” “What if I don’t know what I want? I want to see first, then understand. It was difficult for me to fit in with a woman. In red Tyutya. I barely understood how to pull away, I felt her with my body, I looked with her eyes. Fortunately, Parky wasn’t fucking her at that moment, otherwise I would have caught an unforgettable sensation!” Nik laughed again. “Any, even the most serious conversation, Vitor Kors will always eventually turn to fucking.” Kors fell silent in annoyance. “But you can also listen and feel what your lover feels under you when you fuck him,” Nik decided to sweeten. “Ah, so I can enter, for example, into your memories, where we make love, where I take you, and practically fuck myself?” “Yes! It’s great!” Nik was quite amused. “Yeah… jerk off and fuck with myself – this, apparently, is mine…” “Endless talk of fucking and brain jacking. Over the past day, you have fucked me in your head a million times! Well, how much can you do it?! He wants to study, hahaha...” “I want to learn! What is the meaning of this gift? What use is it to me and what use is it that I watch stupid lives?” “But you like it, and you climb in the minds of others all the time.” “What is left for me? I entertain myself! I watch them like a play in a theatre, absolutely mediocre productions! Catastrophe! And you know... I never liked the theater! What an irony! All this is empty! From the fact that I see them, there is no sense, I see that they are not interesting to me and I don’t need them. They are stupid sheep. It doesn’t give me anything.” “Except for jerking off?” “Except for jerking off,” Kors agreed obediently, “I’m bored with it. Give me another gift!” “I’m bored too, Vitor.” “You don’t need to reflect me now, this is stupid, I learned all your tricks and gimmicks!” “I don’t reflect. I’m really bored too. Why do you think you’re the only one who’s bored here? Lots of people are bored! You are not an exception!” Kors turned to Prince Arel lying on the couch: “Teach me to squeeze everyone with an invisible hand, as Arel can, give me such strength!” “Why do you need it?” “I need it! You are not helping me find my true self, holding me back because I am above you in the hierarchy!” “Here it starts ... I help you more than you think!” “I am higher than you, and you are afraid of me and hold me back!” “In my opinion, he drank pretty well at Zaf’s,” Arel noticed, “and he is being carried away.” “But it seems to me that it always carries him, and even more when he is sober,” Nik disagreed. He turned to the displeasedly silent Kors. “Now I will inject myself with a restorative and begin.” He took out his box, and, slightly bowing his head, as always concentrated, but at the same time very quickly began to prepare a dose for himself. “I’ll inject myself in the neck, it won’t take long.” And Kors turned away, he could never calmly watch the Demon destroy the body of his son. “Nik, why did the unclean ones put you on black water, for what?” “For nothing.” “But why then? What was the meaning of it?!” “Meaning? They wanted me to live.” “What kind of nonsense? Or did you start injecting yourself?” “No one in their sound mind would do that.” “The key word here is ‘sound’. Maybe my human son tried to commit suicide in this way?” “No, even he wouldn’t do that. And where would he get black water? Vitor, you are very wordy, you really tire. I’m tired of your endless thoughts, questions, you delve into every little thing. Royal Investigator! Enough! Everything! Business before pleasure! Start undressing!” And Kors, without objecting, began to unfasten his weapon and take off his clothes, folding them neatly beside him. With a sharp and rude movement, Nik brushed off everything that was on it from the table top. Plates and bottles crashed to the floor. “Oh! Nik, why couldn’t you just call Verniy to clean it up? Why are you so fond of destroying everything and sowing around a mess?!” Kors groaned. Nik didn’t answer. He set his bag on the table, which always contained his box of drugs, tools and paints, and never food, much less a change of clothes, and began to arrange the jars on the table with concentration. And Kors couldn’t help admiring his magnificent white mane covering his entire back. Now, in the beautiful black leather pants Kors had given him that hugged his legs and ass like a second skin, and the short vest Kors had also given him, laced right over his naked body, he was incredibly attractive. Maybe from the fact that Kors was on his knees and looked at Nik from the bottom up, but his legs didn’t seem short to him at all, and Nik himself didn’t seem small to him. He had good proportions. And that blond hair covering a black leather-wrapped ass. “Gods! But why does he have such beautiful hair that literally drives me crazy? This is the appearance of a vicious Angel. I can’t think of anything. You’re hot as all your hell put together! Damn you, fucking Nik!” “I need to change you a little,” Nik said, “you are part of the fist, remember? And you must have all the attributes.” “And my human son told me there was no fist,” said Kors. “And you believed him?” “Well… unlike you, he never deceived me, he always told the truth. I didn’t listen to him, but then, on my own bitter experience, I only confirmed his words.” “No matter!” Nik threw, and so habitually for Kors, he abruptly turned his whole body away from the table that one of his braids loudly clanged with hairpins on the side of the tabletop. A black faceted bead slid off the cord and rolled across the floor. Nik instantly reacted to this sonorous fractional sound, he lowered his bandaged head, looking at the floor. Seeing the bead lying there, to Kors’ surprise, he bent down and picked it up. Thoughtfully turning in his hands, and, apparently, still managing to compare cause and effect, Nik turned his gaze to his scythe. Seeing that it was disheveled, and the ribbon was untied, he put the bead aside, and to Kors’ even greater surprise, taking the braid in his hands, wrapped the ribbon several times around the fluffy tip and tied it into a knot, straightened it. And then, returning to his instruments again, he took the unclamp, by touch, without a mirror, turned his ring hanging under his nose, and, without taking it out, opened it, strung a black bead on it and closed it again. He twisted his nose ring so that the black bead now hung exactly under his nose. “What are you doing? Savage!” Kors shook his head. “Eh?” Nik asked. “Damn you! You’re hotter than all the pots and pans in your fucking hell!” Nik froze, obviously not understanding, but then, shaking his head, he drawled: “Ahh, you keep on jerking off to my appearance… It looks like you won’t stop doing it even if I really do put a bag over my head.” “But at the same time, will you stay in these tight-fitting pants and a vest on your naked body? Why are you walking half naked in front of me?” “Damn, am I supposed to wear a cape?! Why don’t you just stop staring at my ass?” “While you’re in those pants, it’s impossible!” “You gave them to me yourself!” “Yes, and they were just ordinary pants, expensive, of good quality, but completely ordinary. Why does everything look depraved on you? Fallen Angel! You desecrate the gift of beauty given to you thanks to me and Inness, you make everything vulgar and dirty.” “No, I don’t spit on it. I love to dress beautifully. I love expensive clothes, jewelry, and I like to adorn myself,” Nik disagreed, “I appreciate everything, even though you only see my hair, you don’t see a person in me. And you rich true blacks... you just think you have the right to have my hair and eyes and use me as you please!” “No! People are fascinated by you, want to love you and believe you! And I believed! And you played those strings! You know how to do it! Are you saying people don’t see you as a person? Yes, maybe they pay little attention to the fact that you are a fool, but only not me, a true black, played with you like with a doll! You played with me! You charmed me! Only this beauty, this gift, the tool that you use so shamelessly, I gave you! It was me! I was not afraid to break the laws of racial purity, I was not afraid to ruin my career! Not afraid of anything!” Kors tried to end his monologue on the most dramatic note. “Really?” To his disappointment, Nik reacted rather indifferently. “I remember something now... how you asked me for forgiveness for the fact that, blinded by your love for a white virgin, you didn’t think that your children would be half-bloods. You admitted you’d just get rid of the wrong child. “Little children often die” – these are your words, right?” Kors froze. “And now it turns out that it was your gift to me? And for me you made such sacrifices! How can I thank you, daddy master? You gave me such beautiful rings in the lower lip! I love wearing them so much!” “Nik...” “Okay, okay, I really like them.” Kors wilted ashamed, but still stubbornly said: “After all, I confessed to you honestly, I was honest. And I loved honestly, too. Have you ever been honest with me?!” “I was!” “When?!” “When I said I love you!” “Nik, I loved you honestly too! And I was not afraid of anything! Of condemnation of friends, of loss of reputation, of nothing! Humiliation, punishment – I survived everything! I gave you everything! And what did I end up with?” “Are all these victims just because of my appearance? Because of beauty, as you say? I’m not your Inness!” “I know!” “Vitor, wake up, I’m a half-blood, and my appearance deprives me of all the privileges that pure-blooded blacks have. Not only that, I’m lame! I’m a cripple! All in scars! Do you want to be as beautiful as me?! You will charm everyone! Want to try?” Kors was confused: “You have perfect facial features, these are the black and white races in the most beautiful combination, and try to argue that this is not so!” “Yes? Only everyone is constantly staring at me, looking at me, everyone considers it their duty to say something about my appearance, witty, as it seems to them! Joke!” In Nik’s intonation appeared annoyance and frustration. Kors immediately caught on to this and perked up. “The way you mutilated yourself is not my fault, you are just reaping the fruits of your stupidity! And when I ask you to give me the opportunity to help you with the treatment, you throw your boot at me! Well, now wear a mask so that they don’t stare at you, it’s your own fault!” “Oh, I’m crying now! Yes please, I like my mask! I began to open my face only because Arel ordered, he ordered me to wear only half the mask. It’s not about beauty, understand! I fought in both Lower and Upper, and the audience didn’t know what I looked like, they never saw me with an open face. At Dim’s in the Upper Colosseum, I never took off my mask.” “Yes, I understand,” agreed Kors, “you wanted to be perceived and appreciated as a warrior without being distracted by your pretty face. And in the Upper Coliseum, did Dim forbid you to take off your mask?” “Dim didn’t forbid me anything, he didn’t tell me how I should look. It was you who forbade me to speak, to look like I want, to talk to whoever I want, to do what I want, to go where I want, just to move and see! You forbade me everything! But I loved you so much that I put up with it and was ready to be your doll! I listened to everything you were saying me! Only you yourself threw me away! Just like Arel, when he loved you, you threw me away too, you yourself threw him away! Remember how you shied away from me in disgust and called me a vile creature!” “Stop it!” “Well, you continue to forbid even now!” “Sorry… I loved you for more than just your appearance. I didn’t throw you away, I was just very disappointed with your lies, your deceit, that's all...” “Well, of course! I always blame you for everything! You have collected all the burning coals on my head! For you, I’m an ungrateful deceiver, I didn’t appreciate all your victims! I don’t respect my father! Just notice, I call you daddy master and I’m proud that I have such a father, and you always call me a jerk!” “Just because you don't understand how madly I love you!” “You threw me away! And despite this, I didn’t stop loving you!” “And at that moment, Prince Arel, lying relaxed on the trestle bed, suddenly laughed loudly. They looked at him in surprise and questioning. He, noticing their glances, explained: “You are quarreling so funnily. I love you! And I love you more! No, I love you more! No – I! Aha-ha!” “It doesn’t concern you, Prince Arel,” Kors grumbled, embarrassed, “and you know, as they say, no one is a judge of two, so we sort things out as we want. Mind your own business!” “Well, please ...” Arel grunted, continuing to choke with laughter. “Vitor, I love you too, I’m saying just in case.” Kors turned away, grimacing. And Nick said: “I'm really tired, Arel is right. It’s time to get down to business.” “Found someone to listen to, the stupid handsome prince...” “Vitor! Enough! I’m not your doll anymore, I’m your teacher, so shut up and crawl over here.” “I can stand up?” “No! I said crawl! Do you misunderstand?” Lowering his head, Kors got on all fours and crawled to the table, trying not to touch the lying plates and not to plunge his hand into the spilled wine. His shiny ponytail slid off his back to one side, and the ends dragged along the floor. He crawled to Nik’s feet. “You can sit on the chair,” Nik said, and Kors immediately got up from his knees and sat down. From the velvet bag Nik took out small gold rods, the ends of which were encrusted with dark blue stones into balls. “I’ll pierce your chest,” Nik showed Kors the jewelry, “I’ll insert these little bars, and if necessary, you can attach a chain to them.” “Where did you get them from?” Kors was genuinely surprised. Nik pressed one small rod into his palm so that Kors could get a good look at it. “I ordered them from a jeweler in Ore Town for you, a long time ago. Are they beautiful?” Kors turned the delicate ornament in his fingers. “Nik! Really beautiful!” The bars were small and neat, Kors really liked them. He didn’t expect Nik to pick up such aristocratic jewelry for him. Knowing his vulgar taste, he didn’t count on something moderate. He expected Nik to insert his favorite thick carved rings into his chest. “When did you order them? You were with me all the time!” “Vitor, I don’t need to go anywhere for this, I just gave a mental order to one of my unclean ones, showed that I wanted to.” “Your secret world that I always forget about… you do everything in a quiet way…” “It will hurt a little,” Nik warned. “I can’t get used to it!” Still, Kors couldn’t help but close his eyes, clenching his teeth, as Nik pierced his nipple with a special catheter needle. All these flesh punctures Kors associated with negativity and bad moments. With heavy memories of beatings and pain in the Limit and then, when on a hike to the mountains, he fell under the monstrous pressure of Arel. “Now I’ll paint you, no matter how long it takes,” said Nik. “I don’t care. Paint me if you like.” “Of course, it’s just dye. I would look at how you would behave if I said that I would tattoo you all.” “No, I really don’t care anymore and you will do it sooner or later and so,” Kors replied doomed. Nik knelt down in front of him on the floor and drew some signs on his ankles. They wrapped around Kors’ legs like bracelets, and the designs rose a little higher, but the design was not at all like the black stripes of slave bracelets, like Nik himself. It was a beautiful ornate pattern of intricate weaves and, as it were, letters and signs. Nik took Kors’ hand by the wrist and adorned it much the same way. Kors now had beautiful designs on his ankles and wrists. “Hmm,” Kors said, “Nik, I didn’t expect this from you, what is this?” “Protection,” Nik replied simply, without going into details. “Tip your head back a little.” He covered Kors’ neck with signs and patterns for a long time and very carefully. Hell, even a high collar won’t help, Kors thought. But what could he do? It only remained to be glad that Nik didn’t touch his face and hands. The rest could be somehow hidden by clothes. “Get up.” Kors hastily got up from his chair. And Nik began to draw signs on his chest, and he painted Kors in a completely different way than Marg did in the Limit. The design on Kors’ chest was more like the seal on Nik’s forehead. Circles and criss-crossing lines formed triangles, letters intertwined into words in an incomprehensible language. “Are you drawing a Pentacle on me? Are you putting witch seals on me?” “Are you good at this?” Nik interrupted him. “Shut up at last.” Nik was doing everything very diligently, it seemed that now his tongue would stick out of his zeal from his gap in the bandages. Kors saw him blinking his thickly painted black eyelids, narrowing his eyes, tilting his head first to the left, then to the right. Painting his body, Nik was so close, so close, so warm, Kors felt his breath on his chest. Memories flooded over him, he was no longer afraid, he wanted his boy, the more he realized that Nik really didn’t stop loving him. Moreover, Kors still had some influence on him. From time to time, Nik slightly moved away from Kors and froze, carefully examining and, as it were, evaluating what had been done. At one of those moments, Kors leaned forward, reaching for his bandaged face, for the beaded ring hanging under his nose. He reached out, grabbing his lips and taking the jewelry into his mouth. He felt how the bead, under the pressure of his tongue, smoothly scrolled on the ring, and everything in his stomach tightened pleasantly. Nik recoiled. “Hey! What are you doing?!” But his voice was cheerful. “I want to kiss you on your pretty nose," Kors whispered. “You don’t see it! I bandaged it up.” “I still remember it and I want to kiss it!” “Only the nose?” Nik asked a little slyly. “Well... for beginning, and then, of course, I want to kiss you all over.” “Why? Are you no longer afraid of my scales?” “No! I’m not afraid! You really can be the most different, you know how to change!” “You’re afraid!” “No! Do it! Show me your snake form, I will kiss you on your scaly body!” “No. Not now.” “I realized that I can’t live without you, my Demon, my Nik! I love you no matter what!” Kors dropped to his knees before him. “I also love to fuck with you, Vitor, I love you very much. You, too, are hot as fire in hell, or whatever you call it,” Nik put down the brush, “crawl on the skins.” And Kors obediently got on all fours and crawled to where he was pointed. Without changing his position, he stopped on a skin lying on the floor and lowered his head low on his folded hands. Everything inside him was on fire, and, fading with anticipation, he heard Nik, clanging buckles, take off his clothes. He knelt down next to Kors and stroked his back. Kors froze, catching every touch. He felt Nik part his buttocks and lick, run his tongue over his hole, and Kors closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, ready to explode. How he yearned for this. For this sex without restrictions and prohibitions. He heard Nik hiss his “purr” softly and lick Kors harder. “Please, don’t torment me, fuck me!” Kors shouted. And Nik thrust his cock into him, making him literally howl with pleasure. It was unbearable, his stomach filled with heat and twisted into a knot, the cock inside throbbed, and each push was felt more and more sharply, from pleasant soft waves to bright influxes, more and more. Kors tried his best to stand straight, but his legs gave way. He wanted to squirm with pleasure, writhing under Nik, and scream out loud. Arel approached them, slowly, gracefully, like a cat, sank down beside him on a fluffy skin, and leaning over, squeezed Kors from behind by the neck, with his teeth gently, but at the same time with force, grabbing his withers. Kors just sobbed, ready for anything. He exuded energy over the edge, but just as he gave it to them, he received it, exploding with orgasms, it was an exchange. And for these moments, Kors was ready to be humiliated, beaten, anything – just to be with them and get it. Nik fell off him and fell on his back, pulling Kors towards him. He immediately understood everything, almost lying on top, clinging to him, he himself, guiding his hand, inserted his cock into himself, while at the same time spreading his legs wide for Arel, and he didn’t keep himself waiting.