Dean Winters

Terrence preferred to watch the twilight unfurl itself than the sunrise, and that asked him to awake from his slumber early in the morning, when night hadn’t taken its leave from the sky – and when polaris beamed, bright and sentient. The twilight was beautiful. It was, as always, an amalgam of dark and bright, caught in a collision that made the colors bleed into each other. Delicate beginnings of luminescence protruded through the clouds and threw itself across the Haus’s open grounds. Terrence basked in this light.

But, as the day grew brighter and twilight danced away, he made his way back to the Haus’s central building. It was quiet, each of his footsteps drew louder by the comfortable silence. He wasn’t alone in the kitchens. Terrence abruptly assumed the other was a staff member from the way he spoke, with an elegant politeness and awareness to his words. He was a characteristic the staff wielded. “ Good morning. ” His eyes trailed down at the other’s chiseled form and it truly was a good morning. “ Oh, you’ve just done a work-out session, huh? ” Fingertips rose and crawled up his sweat-glistening chest, the movement tantalizingly slow. “ Does this mean you’re too tired for another? ” Terrence asked with false innocence.

‘Yeah, I like getting in an early run; really gets the blood pumping.’ While his muscles ached, and his breathing was still coming in pants, the sudden sensuality of being sweaty and out-of-breath in such close proximity heightened his senses and made him yearn for a rough bedfellow. It seemed the moment hadn’t escaped the other man’s notice, either, when Dean felt the man’s fingertips against his chest. Dean smiled, the man’s suggestive comment lightening what had been a serious mood and turning his upstairs brain back on.

“Are you that eager to please everyone or just the ones you are curious about?” The doctor was intrigued and mildly amusing to say the least. It wasn’t everyday that someone would storm into his office and drop on their knees to offer a blowjob. Nor suggest dropping by whenever his shift was over because they really, really wanted to have a taste of what they had to offer. “Do you want to be the first one to bed the doctor? Is there some sort of competition going around? I am well aware of where I am and what goes on these halls… but sex and pleasure aren’t my priorities. Everyone’s health and well being… is. You can’t go around and fornicate everything with a pulse if you are not feeling one hundred percent well, vero?”

‘Everyone, anyone - while I don’t usually proffer myself like this to other staff members - your position here seems more like an in-between.’

Dean supposed some of the guys who worked here were only hired to fill a certain capacity and not expected to whore themselves out to clients, and he thought doctors might be one of those jobs where the man got sanctuary. He wasn’t aware of any competition, but . . . being chastised by this man was sending mixed signals through his body - part of his ashamed his actions had displeased the doctor, yet still turned on by what the guy could do to him when he was angry or upset. Was he rough in bed? The man’s stature held all the promise of a dom, but would the doctor be more a gentle giant? So many questions and Dean had come in during business hours.

Terrence used the conversation as a mere ploy for his shoe to ascend up the curl of his leg and caress the clothed skin along his thigh with its leather tip. It was a teasing gesture, a tantalizing act, a little taste of what Terrence had in store for the other. “Uh-huh.” He dismissed the previous sentences with that word, and smirked at the remaining words. “In my bed, huh? But here I was, thinking about taking you right now, right in this small room. Don’t worry about prying eyes – I asked for tight security – unless that’s what you want.” Terrence’s shoe brushed against the other’s crotch, hard and pressing.

“Ah,” A snicker escaped him. “No, it’s mine. Who wouldn’t want to take a beautiful man like you out for dinner?” The scents of their cuisines waded in before the latter did. Plates and plates of buttery dishes were settled in front of the two but they did not block Terrence’s view of the other, the chiseled edges of his countenance and the gleam in those eyes which begged and begged and begged tacitly. He would not satisfy his wish, not right now. Right now, Terrence’s hands gracefully took his knife and fork and dug into the chicken breast. After taking a bite - slowly, sensually, coquettishly - Terrence’s shoe brushed up against the other’s ankle. “So, Dean.” It ascended up immediately, to his knee. “Tell me about yourself.”  

Terrence smiled coyly at him. It was one of those smiles that had more to it then the curvature of a mouth and rosy lips, one of those smiles which were as cryptic as they were revealing.  “I don’t understand French thoroughly.” He confessed. “So, that better be a compliment.” Motioning to the table and candlelight that Terrence had asked for, he asked the other to take a seat. “Please.” A hand patted his waist, suggestively, before Terrence sat down opposite to the other. 

Terrence’s tastes existed on a wide spectrum, and were ever-changing. Sometimes he preferred men who grasped his theist like a prize, whilst sometimes he wanted to wield the hands around a throat. With Dean, both offers were on the table, making Terrence’s heart astir. He brushes out the wrinkles on his shirt before descending the spiral stairs, stretching out each step so that his admirers could drink in the whole of the sight – which was dark attire, grey vest, gelled hair, and the outline of a taut underwear which peers through his sheer trousers. He was dressed ostentatiously to entrap and deceive and seemed to be doing a smooth work at it. Eyes catching Dean, Terrence strode over and offered him the flat of his hand for a chaste kiss.

“Enchanté.” He greeted, the smirk across his rosy lips a sharp and lethal crescent.

God, those trousers left almost nothing to the imagination, but from someone who had the world on a silver platter - the translucence of the fabric seemed two-fold. It offered the world a view but the fearlessness of such choice in clothing spoke volumes as to who was in charge. Dean took the man’s offered hand, playing along with the client’s wishes. An image sprang to his mind unbidden: Dean on his knees in front of his Master, being praised for a job well done, a hand gently stroking his face and him turning to kiss those fingers in gratitude. Well, fuck, now he had a problem as something else sprang up. He let out the quietest of whimpers, trying to grasp the breadth of what the client’s smirk meant.

“You got more self-control than I do, then, that’s for damn sure.” Beau grinned, his tongue practically lolling out like a dog’s at the thought of all the pretty staff members available to be fucked. “Anyhow, clients come first, so even if I’m with another staff member the client would get priority. Or might just order up the both of us, and that’s a helluva lot of fun.”

Dean’s request to know the name of the thick-dicked client drew a snorting laugh from Beau as he pinched one of Dean’s toes. “Oh, you think you can just stroll on up in here and filch my clientele out from inside me? No way, darlin’, you gotta sift through and find him on your own. Stick around the pool and you’ll probably see him soon enough – he’ll be the one wearin’ long swim trunks because nothing else can contain his cock.”

The other staff’s musing on drawing punishment out of even the sweet clients made a thrill go up Beau’s spine, his grin getting a little hungrier. “Now you’re talkin’,” he said, wrapping one arm around Dean’s leg and bumping his nose against the other man’s knee. “God, it’s fuckin’ great, ain’t it? When you can get em to tap into that primal side of themselves where they start to see you as nothing more than meat for the taking, and they stop caring about your comfort. Even better if they’re vocal about it.”

‘I just really like the power the clients have over me. That, in and of itself, is a major turn-on. I swear, though - a few years ago, this would have all seemed ridiculous to get into.’ Now Dean was thinking of a client man enough for two staff members to service him and each other. That would be quite the alpha, for sure. He’d never actually had a threesome; the clients he’d been with last time had all just been the one-at-a-time kind. Even the gangbang initiation didn’t really count, as it had simply been a one-after-the-other. He remembered how scared and infuriated he used to be when Mr Blackwell punished him; now, he craved the darkness inside a horny client, knew he’d get a rough pounding, and worse handling, before being tossed aside to only ache for more.

‘Not to steal him away; you know I wouldn’t do that to you.The implication!’ He smiled at Beau, rolling his eyes a little at his own exaggeration, though the mirth was genuine. Dean respected Beau too much to pull something petty like that. Besides, if he wanted to feel his ass gaping open, the Haus was full of monster dildos to get the staff nice and open for the clients.

It was around 4 in the morning and Dean was trying to get his breathing back to a steady pace after the lap around the Haus. His legs were on fire, numb, and felt like they could turn to jelly at any moment. He’d forgotten just how big the grounds were and the paved path around the place didn’t cut corners. He took his trainers off and carried them to his quarters on the ground floor, placing them in the shower where he’d clean them off after a bite to eat.

wickedwinters‌:

@doctorgagliasso

‘I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I wanted to come see the new doctor for myself.’

Dean had heard that the guy was flat-out gorgeous but that was a fucking understatement. If he had the slightest inclination what the guy was into, he’d drop to his knees to start worshipping the man’s cock. Then again, there weren’t a lot of guys who didn’t want their dick sucked, especially if said guy was at the Haus of Perses, so he liked his chances. Kneeling in front of the man, he looked up at him with pleading eyes.

‘You wouldn’t happen to object to a blow-job right now, would you?’

“I would, actually.” One eyebrow rose and Matheo didn’t quite know how to politely decline the offer that was being presented to him. He was probably insane. In what reasonable world would a man refuse a blowjob? “I very much object the suggestion of a fellatio right now.” Brown eyes remained down on the other man, not a glimpse of hesitation or shame on the other man’s eyes. As handsome as he was – he would need to decline. “You see, I’m working. During working hours, my priority is to those who require medical assistance whether they are clients or staff. To indulge myself in carnal pleasure during my schedule is highly unprofessional. You wouldn’t like to be on a rush to see a doctor for a legitimate reason and end up waiting because he was… being pleased by someone else, would you?”

Dean’s shoulders fell - apparently there were guys who would turn down blow-jobs. This one in particular had a good reason, though. However, the doctor had said “right now”, meaning that perhaps he wasn’t refusing the idea of a blowjob from Dean, but just that Dean had arrived and offered at the wrong time.

Liam listened to Dean speak and his eyes widened. He was quite nervous now since his colleague was taking things too seriously. It almost made Liam think that what he was eating did not belong to him. He decided to take one last bite from the donut and finish it before returning the box back to the fridge. “Guess this is the last time I eat something my client doesn’t buy to me,” he smiled weakly, scratching the back of his head. “I have one that offered to get me things, so I’ll just make him buy me pizza or something.”

Liam walked towards the male and look him in the eyes for a brief moment. “Is everything okay? You seems so serious,” he asked. Liam was quite laid-back, but he knew that some clients could be a handful and therefore he asked.

‘No, a bit here and there is just fine. No one here wants you going hungry, mate.’

Dean smiled at the guy, embarrassed to have sounded so clinical in offering a few tips for guidance around the Haus. And he guessed a few of the clients would indeed want to exact starvation as a form of punishment if a staff overstepped. And it was good that the guy already had a client who would take care of him if he asked.

Liam finally managed to get a break after playing with his clients for the past few hours. Feeling slightly exhausted but mostly hungry, he rushed towards the kitchen where he could feed himself. “God, I’m starving,” he muttered to himself, reaching for some donuts that he found in the fridge. It didn’t occur to him, however, that it must have belonged to someone else, and so he felt slightly embarrassed… but continued on eating. “Hope it’s not yours. I’m just so hungry. I’ll pay you back or something. Promise.”

'I don't think the food is any one person's in particular. If there isn't a label on it with a name or an event, then you should be all right. And our paycheck is after room and board, which includes a bit of food. We pay for alcoholic drinks or eating at the restaurants, any of the commodities meant for the clients, really.'

The chefs around the Haus knew the clients and staff got hungry during the odd hours so they normally just wrapped and labelled what was set aside for Haus events or specially prepared for a client. While Mr Blackwell wasn’t keen on starving his staff, wanting them to look fit for the clients, the staff weren’t allowed to overdo it. And spa treatments, massages, succulent meals, booze, and the like - clients always got top priority, but staff were supposed to schedule and pay for them from their paychecks.

‘I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I wanted to come see the new doctor for myself.’

Dean had heard that the guy was flat-out gorgeous but that was a fucking understatement. If he had the slightest inclination what the guy was into, he’d drop to his knees to start worshipping the man’s cock. Then again, there weren’t a lot of guys who didn’t want their dick sucked, especially if said guy was at the Haus of Perses, so he liked his chances. Kneeling in front of the man, he looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Nathan waved off his concern with his hand and then shook his head as if to verify that he didn’t mind. “Honestly, it’s not a problem at all. If you hadn’t arrived, I would have left within ten minutes so thank you for arriving right on time.” He noticed such hesitance upon calling him by his name that Nathan hadn’t realized he should have clarified he didn’t mind such titles. 

However, before he could assure the younger male that he was alright to call him by his name, he heard him speak up. He nodded, understanding the feeling. For him, it was just the same yet a bit complicated because it wasn’t just his family. His surroundings as well, so he understood the need to return. 

“That’s understandable.” he added quietly while swishing his legs back and forth slowly in the water. His question made him glance at him and he was glad to have asked. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Dean and yes I am a client.” he confirmed. “–But I don’t mind it if you call me by my name. However if it’s awkward for you and you prefer referring to me as Sir then I understand. I came here to feel like i’m in a normal setting. But it’s up to you.” he added. “Which brings me to my next question, is this alright? The talking I mean, or would you much rather get straight into the fun?” 

Again, Nathan didn’t want to waste anyone’s time if they wanted to do other things that didn’t revolve around only talking.

Dean was thankful that he hadn’t been interrupting a client’s getaway - or self-care, as they tended to put it. Zen time. He’d only been trying to do his job, after all, but it seemed he was in the wrong part of the Haus. The pool wasn’t a busy section as it had been when he was first here. You couldn’t get people out of the water. Then again the spring and summer months had warmed up the outside considerably. He should have tried the indoor pool if he wanted to meet up with a lot of clients.

Then again, a client was still a client, whether they wanted to fuck him or simply carry on a conversation. He was torn between what felt natural to him and what the client wanted, but he would try for the latter as much as he could think beforehand. He had no doubt he would slip at some point, though.

'You’re a client, Nathan. Anything you want is all right.’ Best to put the man at ease. ‘You don’t need to ask us questions and you don’t need to worry. Everything about us - a short history, kinks, limits - is on the phone app. There are some clients who don’t prefer us to talk at all.’ He smiled at Nathan, the tiniest part of him from somewhere wondering how he would have turned out if he’d met the client his first go-round, when he hadn’t been copacetic with the way this place was run.

“And I’m supposed to care about that why?” 

‘I apologise, sir; I didn’t mean to imply you should.’ He’d always figured weather was a safe space when breaking the ice and starting a round of small talk. And he was relieved that Chicago was no longer a popsicle. Apparently, this guy did not and Dean had clearly gotten off on the wrong foot by speaking first.

“–Oh please, call me Nathan.” As much as he enjoyed hearing the other call him sir he wasn’t in the mood for much just yet. He just wanted to unravel before he decided to get things started; “Don’t let me stop you from a swim, just as long as it isn’t a loud splash coming my way. I didn’t bring my suit with me. In fact, i wasn’t even planning on starting off at the pool, but the quiet pulled me in.” he explained, as if it would matter.

As the other seated next to him, Nathan glanced at the man before him. “You mentioned being away for some time, mind if I ask why you left and what made you come back?” he asked. While it may have been personal, Nathan hadn’t meant to intrude, he was only curious to know why anyone would leave if they worked here. But of course, that was something he’d still have to learn about the place.

“What should I call you?” he asked, in regards to his name. 

'I didn’t mean to disturb your quiet, . . . Nathan.’ It felt strange calling a man he assumed to be a client by his given name - almost disrespectful even. But then again, if the guy was a client, why wouldn’t he want the staff to call him “sir”? Hmm, either he was kind or not in the mood or both -- or he was actually staff and Dean had assumed incorrectly. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened, though, and the staff member had actually taken advantage of that and pretended to be a client - it had almost gotten him in trouble by the boss, now that he thought back on it and remembered when it had happened - that freaking deadline.

“Oh, I dunno. I’m all for spreading my charm wide open for anybody who has a liking for it.” Beau grinned at Dean, finishing off his drink. “I mean, hell – might be different for you, but if I counted on just clients to keep me satisfied, I’d go fuckin’ crazy.” He gave a little wry snort. “That’s what we whores are supposed to be, right? Sex-crazed fucktoys? Some of us fit the description perfectly.”

Beau patted the edge tiling of the pool, entreating, “Come sit down, dip your toes in. The water’s fine.” He poked his straw among the ice melting in his empty glass, saying, “One guy who was into tit torture, and one guy who didn’t want anything kinky other than to fuck me as hard as he could.” Beau shook his head with a lopsided smile. “Which was, come to think of it, kinky enough since the client had a cock thick as a beer can. My cunt was gaping for a day or two after.”

Giving up on there being anything else in the glass to drink, Beau eyed Dean curiously. “How bout you? New clients, old clients, what’s up?”

Well, Dean guessed not much had changed from the Beau he knew before. He smirked at Beau’s description of himself, quite agreeing that he’d be the exact same. While Dean didn’t mind waiting for clients instead of hooking up with staff, he would give it tonight before repeating one of his stunts from before - one that had proved very beneficial. ‘I’d rather give the clients all the access they want than miss an opportunity because I’m busy with another staff member, but yeah, maybe that’s just me.’

And yes, Dean would be the first to admit that he was indeed a “sex-crazed fucktoy” as Beau so eloquently put it. He smiled and nodded at the guy. ‘Self-proclaimed and proud of it.’ He took a seat by the pool after rolling up the legs of his trousers so they wouldn’t get wet. He swung his legs off the side into the water, swinging his feet out gently. ‘Nice,’ came the comment after Beau mentioned the tit torture. Dean shrugged the tiniest bit at hearing that a client had simply wanted to fuck - still not bad, but when he heard that the client had been thick, he turned to Beau with a glint in his eyes. ‘Does this dick come with a name you’d like to share?’