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Hi! So, for those of you that have followed this particular series, this is actually the author of the stories, Aubrie, rather than her adoring, endlessly patient husband. I decided to post it myself because the site was making him rageface. Once again, I'm sorry this took so long. For those of you checking it out for the first time, I hope you enjoy your first taste and go back to read the others! Either way, thank you very much for reading, and for any comments or feedback you'd be so kind to give me once you have. I'm not real familiar with the tags, 'cause like I said, this is my first time, so if you guys catch any mistakes in them or in the posting of the story itself, let me know and I'll edit it. ^.^

Disclaimer: If you shouldn't be reading this, quit it. If you're turned off by the boy lovin', or really anything in the tags the story comes with, you probably shouldn't have clicked on it in the first place, and you may read at your own risk. :)

"Michael," came the call of my Master. He sounded mildly agitated, which had me frowning. I hadn't seen much of him today, as he'd been out paying bills or running whatever errands he wanted to run for the day. I had been cleaning like I usually find myself doing whether he's absent or not. He has a pretty expansive apartment that never really seems to stay clean despite all my effort. I was on my hands and knees in his kitchen scrubbing the grout of the tile with a toothbrush when he called, and I looked up. I almost called back to him, but after a few years with him, I know better.

So instead, I crawled to him on my hands and knees, finding him... in the laundry room of all places. I blinked, straightening myself up on my knees. "Yes, Master?" I asked him, trying not to sound too curious. He hasn't done his own laundry since he collared me.

His query reflected that. "Where... where the hell is the laundry detergent?" he asked, still searching high and low for it in the confines of the room.

I tried very hard not to laugh, but I couldn't help grinning at him. By the time he looked at me smirking at him, I couldn't contain my amusement with his cluelessness and I actually laughed aloud a little. He glowered at me for a moment, and for that moment I thought I was going to get at least a smack in the head for my amusement, but then chuckled himself, shaking his head. "Shut up," he mumbled, "Just get it for me, boy. Its your damned fault I never need to know where it is."

"I'll gladly take the blame for that, Master," I agreed, still grinning as I climbed to my feet. I didn't really need to though, since I keep the laundry detergent on the floor by the washer, but I also kind of gently bumped him out of the way so I could do whatever wash he needed done so urgently. I keep up with his need for laundry easily, so he must need something washed specifically. He stood back and let me handle it, maybe because he forgot how to work his washer too and didn't want to have to ask me that as well.

Once I was finished starting it, he moved out of the room first. I assumed he no longer needed me, so I started back toward the kitchen while he'd gone the other way to his room.

"Come with me," he said, before I was out of arm's reach.

I frowned. "But... Master..." There's cleaner on the kitchen floor that probably shouldn't just sit there. Apparently that ceased to matter though, because at the first sign of hesitation from me, he'd reached out and snagged a handful of my hair, wrenching back my head with it. I hissed softly and whimpered, quickly sinking to my knees. His hand followed me down, not releasing his grip at all. "Come. With. Me." he repeated, and this time he dragged me along as I crawled at his feet, his fingers still tangled in my hair. It hurt, so I tried to crawl as quickly as I could at his feet.

We both moved into his room and only then did he let go of my aching scalp. "Strip," he said, "I don't know why you have clothes on anyway."

He hadn't asked for my reasoning, so I just silently pulled my shirt and jeans off while staying down on my hands and knees, which I'd gotten good at over the past two years. There is nobody in the house besides us, so normally he wants me naked all the time.

"Are you still questioning me after two years, Michael?" Gaige asked me, standing over me like a giant. He's tallish, but not obnoxiously so. It's mostly his presence alone that makes him seem so overwhelming.

I shook my head quickly. "No, Master. I wasn't thinking." I'd also learned that he doesn't like apologies. So I'd stopped offering them, despite the habit being a hard one to break.

"Stand up," he said, speaking almost over me, "And bend down, touch your toes."

I did as I was told, rising to my feet, and I bent over and touched my fingertips to my toes. I started to rise, because he didn't say to stay that way, but he promptly shoved me back down. "Stay like that," he growled, "Your fingers better not leave your toes and you'd better neither straighten up or fall. Am I clear?"

I nodded, already feeling the strain in the back of my legs. "Yes, Master," I murmured. The good news is, this isn't punishment. If it was punishment, I'd already taste blood in my mouth and have at least one or two bruises. I figured he was just going to leave me like this for a while for his amusement, go do something else and see how long I could hold up the command he'd given me. And indeed, he did move away from me. I heard his footsteps moving elsewhere in the room, and heard him rummaging through a few drawers, then leave the room entirely.

He didn't come back for another fifteen minutes, by which point the backs of my thighs were burning harshly. I hadn't faltered though. My fingers stayed on my toes, even if my legs were shaking a little. He made no comment as he came in, but I felt his large, firm hand come down in a hard slap against my ass that made me stumble forward a step. I almost fell, but I was determined not to fail him. I caught myself, but barely. He chucked and slid his hand down, cupping and squeezing my exposed nuts. Groaning, I whimpered and tried hard not to squirm, because my balance is already precarious. That's his point, of course.

His thumb rubbed at my star for the briefest of seconds before he withdrew his hand completely. I found out why only half a second later when I felt a white hot, searing burn drip down over my hole, and I could feel the hot wax solidifying over my skin. I gasped and cried out to him, my eyes wide at the unexpected pain and I almost faltered simply because my mind was still recovering from the shock, and it wasn't helping that my legs were shaking. I gritted my teeth and trembled, gasping again when several more white hot droplets fell to coat my sensitive little hole. Some of it dribbled down over the flesh between my asshole and nuts, and then he started tilting the red candle in his hand a little more, allowing it to pour over my flesh enough that some of it even slithered down to burn and harden on my nuts.

I cried out to him in aching gasps and struggled hard not to squirm any more than what couldn't be helped, because I didn't know how much longer I could hold out to this. Master seemed to be enjoying himself, as he chuckled every few moments when I cried out again or trembled especially hard. He reached down around me and wrapped his fingers around my cock which, despite the pain the wax was causing, was rock hard. It was then that he laughed fully.

"You are an eager little slut, aren't you, Michael?" he asked me, and I trembled harder. My cock throbbed in his fingers. "Look at you... this perfect little hole of yours all covered in hot wax, and your dick is as hard as can be. And I've been watching... your fingers haven't even left your toes. What a good whore."

My face flushed deep, deep red even more than it was because of my position. I trembled beneath him and he rubbed his thumb over the head of my aching shaft and then pulled his hand away from it, walking his fingers up the flesh of my ass to rub over the red, burned skin around my asshole and nuts. He started using his fingernails to peel it away and I whimpered again, praying he wasn't just doing that so he could give me another coating of it. As raw and seared as the skin was, his fingernails made me squirm just as badly. I soon felt the same torturing hot liquid dripping down over the line of my back, causing me to twitch and hiss again, and he dribbled it in a trail of lava down my back. But, thankfully, he stopped when he got back to my hole.

"How much more of my play do you think you can hold up to, slut?" he queried.

I swallowed. My legs burned horribly and the rest of me was aching as well, and my poor, sensitive hole was still burning almost as badly as the flesh of my back. "As much as you want your slut to take, Master," I responded, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.

He laughed. It was a rich, full-throated sound that could scare the shit out of me when he wanted it to. It sure did right now. "You might regret saying that, I think. In fact, I'm almost certain you will." He left again, but he came back shortly this time. Since my back, or ass, was to the door, I couldn't see him. I could only hear him.

Without any more warning than he gave the first time, he pressed what could only be a thick cube of ice directly to the aching flesh of my asshole. I gasped loudly and jerked, once again almost tumbling over. The cold against the burned skin was shocking and I wanted badly to jerk away from him, but he would beat me senseless if I did and I knew it. The icy water from it dribbled down over the flesh of my taint, and he dragged the ice cube itself over that very same flesh, and over my sensitive, heavy nuts. I shook and trembled even harder, baring my teeth which I was only too blessed that he couldn't immediately see.

"Aren't I nice for soothing your burns for you like this, cumwhore?" he asked, knowing naturally that he wasn't soothing anything. I knew he knew that, and he knew I knew that.

"Yes, Master," I choked, "Thank you for your kindness." I almost choked on my words as he started pressing another, less melted ice cube into my hole. I writhed and groaned to him, the ice cold seeping into my insides and making my breath hitch in my chest. I could feel my star giving way to the intrusion, but he stopped, drawing it out and tossing it back into the cup he must have brought the ice cubes in here with.

He slapped my ass again hard and I shut my eyes tightly, stumbling forward again because of the force. The backs of my legs ached and protested, and I was sure I'd be able to feel the burn for the next several days. I heard him walking away, around in his bedroom, and he took his sweet time with whatever he was searching for. His phone rang and he picked it up, engaged in whatever apparently amicable conversation it was, leaving me there to shake and sweat with effort as he watched me. Finally, when he hung up, he went into a drawer and then shut it, coming back around behind me. A bottle was opened and closed, and then something probing at my aching, abused little hole. It turned out to be a buttplug, which he unceremoniously shoved into my hole. He had lubed it, which was my only saving grace, but it still split me open and I choked on an outcry mixed with a groan as he wedged it deeply inside of me, causing me to stumble a few times more. I almost fell again.

"Your little hole looks just incredible stretched around something so thick," he commented, reaching down to rub my nuts. I swallowed again, whimpering, "How does it feel, little slut?" he asked.

I could feel my insides squeezing and gripping the intruding toy. It wasn't as big as my Master's cock, but it was still pretty thick around the thickest end of it. He slapped my ass hard again and then reached up to yank my hair back, which came precariously close to pulling my fingers up. I knew he'd be watching for just that.

"I'm sorry, I could swear I'd asked you a question," he hissed.

"Y-yes, Master... it... it feels big, Master, like it's splitting me open... please..." He released my hair. My cock, through all of this, was aching and pulsing, rigid against my abdomen.

By this point, I'd actually stumbled toward the edge of his bed. He moved around to the front of me, and I realized then that at some point, he had stripped out of the jeans he was wearing. His cock, a solid nine inches of meat, stood proud and hard against his flat, tattooed abdomen. He gripped it and thumped it against my face, then sat down on the edge of his bed.

"Get to work," he said flatly, gesturing at his hardened cock.

"M-May I kneel, Master?" I asked, aching to straighten or move or -something- that would relieve the tension from the backs of my thighs.

"Did I say you could kneel?" came my answer.

The fact that he had sat himself on the end of the bed basically put his dick right at my level, which I'm sure he planned. I wondered if he ever does plan this stuff, or if he just comes up with it as he goes along. I opened my mouth and he guided his dick into it since I couldn't move my hands, and I immediately started sucking on him, eager for something to distract myself as much as I was to pleasure him. I love sucking on his dick. I tongued it as I sucked, massaging every inch I could get into my mouth. I could feel him throbbing against my tongue and his hand had come to rest on the back of my head, his fingers curling into my hair again. He guided my head up and down on his fat shaft, which I could barely fit my mouth around even normally.

Eager to make him happy with me, in hopes he would let up a little bit, I pushed his cock right down into my throat, resisting my gag reflex as I did it. He had been waiting for that, apparently, because to my absolute shock, I suddenly felt the thick plug in my ass vibrating. And hard. It pulsed and vibrated deep and tight in my hole and I completely choked on his cock as I felt it, having not even once seen the small remote in his other hand. His thumb was rolling up a dial on it, and the vibrations were getting harder the more he did it. My knees shook violently, wanting to give way from both the effort and the pleasure. He shoved my head right back down on his dick and I whimpered, struggling to get back to work through all the stimulation. He drove his dick in and out of my mouth, but didn't shove it down my throat. He turned the dial up the highest it could go and my whole body trembled as I nursed his dick, making it good and slick with all the saliva from my mouth.

"You were born to suck on a good, fat cock as often as you can, weren't you, boy?" he said, slapping his dick against my lips. I still hadn't faltered in my position, but I didn't know how much more I could take. My muscles were cramping and protesting and my back was absolutely aching. I tightened my mouth around his cock in answer and moaned right onto it, which caused him a groan of pleasure and he jerked his hips into my mouth, pressing my head down as far as he could onto his dick without throat fucking me.

Abruptly, he pulled himself out of my mouth and smeared the saliva and precum all over my face before standing up and moving around behind me again to my risen ass. He ran his fingers over my globes and squeezed them both, shifting the vibrating plug in my ass and then pulling it out with an obscene pop. He pushed a few of his fingers into my stretched hole, and then drew them out, only to shove his fat, slick dick deep inside of my ass, and hard. I gasped and cried out to him again, feeling his hands rest on my hips.

"Don't you fucking move," he warned, "If you fail now, I'll really have to beat your ass."

He drilled his dick home, ramming it against my prostate, and I almost failed right there. My knees shook and trembled and the slamming head of his dick against my prostate had me choking on my own breath, groaning out in need for him. I wanted so badly to touch my dick, or for him to. It ached so hard, and I had no idea how much I'd be able to take before I exploded without him ever touching my cock.

He gripped my hips and immediately started reaming me hard, shoving his fat cock balls deep into my hole. He doesn't usually bother starting things out slow, but he doesn't usually just start drilling me either. He seemed almost in a frenzy, how fast and deep his cock was grinding home. I felt myself being split open around him, all that fat meat stuffing me full and just daring me to lose my balance or control of where my hands were.

"Mmm... this ass... you're such a delicious little cockslut. Your ass feels so tight around my dick, boy. Do you enjoy your Master's cock?"

I could barely speak for the pleasure he was forcing into my blood. My body was shaking against him for several different reasons and I could feel myself slick with sweat. My raw, abused asshole was being even more stretched around him and he was absolutely beating my prostate. But I choked out my response through my pleading groans. "Your whore loves your fat c-cock, M... Master... ugh..."

He slapped my ass and I could hear him chuckling as he fucked me senseless. "You got siblings, whore?" he asked. The question confused me, but my body was full of too much stimulation to pay much attention to a thought process.

"Yes, M-Master..." I moaned, "A brother..."

"Oh, a brother?" he echoed, sounding delighted. He suddenly pulled out of me, which I hated. It had me feeling totally empty and all I could feel was how hard and needful my dick was. "On your hands and knees," he ordered, for which I thanked whatever Gods were up there. I obeyed immediately, stiffly dropping down onto my hands and knees and relishing in the relief it gave my legs and back. "Stick your pretty ass in the air for me... head to the floor, where it should be." Again, I obeyed, pressing the side of my head to the floor which stuck my ass up in the air high for him. And he slammed right back home, causing me to burst out with another shuddering moan. And he tossed his phone right on the floor in front of my face.

"Call him."

I was stunned. I couldn't have possibly heard him right. "... Master?"

Again, he reached forward and yanked back my hair, which strained the hell out of my spine and had me crying out in pain, yet again. "I know you heard me, boy," he growled.

"Yes... yes, Master... please..."

He released me, and with a shaking hand, I gathered the phone as he continued drilling my hole. I could barely focus on the numbers I was dialing. He slammed home into my prostate with every vicious thrust, and I prayed my brother didn't pick up.

As it rang, more orders came. "I want you to tell him exactly what I'm doing to you, and how it feels. Am I understood?"

My face flushed crimson. "Y-Yes, Master..." I murmured. Just as Julian picked up the phone. His voice was inquiring, because he obviously wouldn't recognize the number. I hadn't talked to him since the night before Gaige had collared me.

"Hello?" he answered.

Gaige, being lycan, heard him answer loud and clear. He gripped my hips and proceeded to start fucking me even more viciously.

"Ugh... oh God... J-Julian..." I groaned, already humiliated.

There was a pause. "Michael? Are you okay?"

Of course, hearing this, Gaige drilled another vicious thrust home, ramming the head of his dick into my prostate and I gasped into the phone. "Ahh.. fuck... my Master... he's... he's fucking me so hard... his cock feels huge splitting me open..."

"Gonna have to do better than that if you want to cum, boy," Gaige said, and I could hear the grin in his tone.

"Your... -what-?" Julian asked, unsurprisingly confused.

"Please... oh God... my Master... he's got me on my hands and knees on his floor... his fat cock is reaming me... he made me call you so you could hear... fuuuck... ugh... Master... please..." The humiliation of all of this was just driving me more insane. The absolute submission it took me to follow the orders to call my completely clueless brother and stay on the phone with him while my Master fucked me, and the humiliation it caused me to do so...

"Sounds like you're having quite the party..." Julian mused. I could hear a grin in his tone too.

I choked on another groan as Gaige's dick started drilling against my prostate with every single violent thrust he made into my used hole.

"Tell me what you are, boy," Gaige commanded, "Tell your brother what you are..."

I whimpered into the phone and groaned again as several more thrusts came in quick succession. I could feel his powerful fingers gripping my hips, yanking me back into his vicious thrusts. "I'm... ugh... I am my Master's eager, cock hungry little whore..." I groaned into the phone, and as I said it, Gaige's hand came around to grip at my aching, needful cock. He pumped it in time with his thrusting, which was dangerously close to just throwing me off the edge. My brother was obviously listening with interest now. He'd spent pretty much our entire lives after puberty wanting after me, so I imagine he was probably enjoying this as much as my Master was. "I am my Master's cum-starved f-fuck toy... his obedient p-pet..."

I could feel Gaige getting close. His fingers were gripping tight around my hips and his thrusts were coming in hard, short jerks as he drove me into the carpeting. His fingers pumped my dick and I had to use absolutely all the strength I had left in me not to explode, and even that couldn't possibly be enough. I was sweating hard and shaking violently, still coated in candle wax and burns.

"Beg to cum, whore," he said.

On the phone with my brother, I whimpered at him again, gasping with another thrust to my prostate. My face burned red and I felt so incredibly small, like the whole world was watching me being used by this man. "Master... oh God... Master please... please let me cum... unngh... p-please... fuuuuuuck... please, I need to cum for you, Master... your cock whore needs to come, Master... please, Master..." I didn't care at this point if Julian was on the phone. If I didn't get permission from Gaige to cum, I wasn't going to be able to hold it back any longer and it would've pissed him right the hell off. I absolutely had to get his permission. And Julian laughed at me for it, giving me a seductive little purr into the phone.

Gaige suddenly pulled his huge dick out of my gaping hole and gave several deep, guttural moans as he pumped his own dick. "On your back," he hissed impatiently. I turned over immediately, and I had barely lain on the floor before his cock exploded, sending streams of my Master's hot, sticky cum all over my chest and face and abdomen... covering me with it. He aimed it mostly for my face, but he made sure he shot onto my chest and abdomen as well, and the whole time, his fist kept pumping my dick as well.

"Go," he finally said.

I couldn't breathe. My hips bucked and my breath caught hard in my lungs and my whole diaphragm tightened as my climax exploded from me when I finally stopped trying to hold back. With my brother listening in, I moaned and cried out to my Master while I came, my cock exploding with my own cum to mix with my Master's all over my chest and abdomen and even up as far as my shoulder. He pumped my dick until there was nothing left to erupt with, and then pointedly put several of his fingers, on which I had gotten cum, to my mouth. Whimpering and trembling, I obediently licked them clean, realizing that I had never felt so humiliated in my life. Wordlessly, he took the phone from me and stepped over me, leaving me at his feet in a shaking, sweaty, cum-soaked mess.

"So you're the brother?" he said into the phone. He turned it on speaker phone so that I could hear it.

"Yep. So you're the guy that's kept him from calling me for two years?" Julian asked.

He didn't answer the question, mostly because he controls pretty much every conversation he enters into. This one isn't an exception. "You older or younger?" he asked.

"I'm his twin," Julian answered, "Though I'm six minutes and some change older than he is."

I watched my Master's eyebrows raise. He looked down at me, staring at me. "Twin? Fraternal?"

"Identical. And no, I will not be your bitch."

An enormous grin spread over my Master's face, and I felt my insides twist. I groaned, trying to pick myself up to maybe go clean myself up, but Gaige brought his bare foot down onto my chest. He then realized that in doing that, he got cum on his foot. Narrowing his eyes at me, he nodded down at it, moving it off my chest so that I could turn over and lick his foot clean, whimpering with humiliation.

"Good," Gaige answered, "Your brother is plenty enough bitch for me. I could use another playmate with a spine. Want to come play?"

My face flushed again as he spoke of me like that and I lowered my head, dragging myself up onto my knees. Cum slithered down my chest and face, and he pointed at his cock for me to clean off. I took it into my mouth and started licking it clean as well.

"Sure," my twin responded, "Why the hell not. I haven't even seen him in two years."

Gaige gave him the address, and then hung up without another word. My Master grinned down at me as I cleaned his cock with my mouth. "You ever messed around with your brother, boy?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, Master."

"Have you wanted to?"

Again, I shook my head. "He has, Master. I haven't."

Smirking, he reached down to my face, smearing cum across it and into my hair. "Good thing what you want doesn't matter anymore, does it? Go put some dinner together while your brother makes the trip. And no, you may neither wash up or dress."

He left the room without so much as another look toward me, leaving me dreading every following second that I knew my brother was on his way here. My night wasn't even close to over.

Hope you enjoyed the fourth installment of the series. Don't forget to read the others if you enjoyed this one, and remember to comment!