“Swallow!”
Kors, who didn’t expect this at all, felt an elastic stream of warm salty urine flow into his throat, he instinctively tried to escape, but it didn't work.
“Swallow!” Arel growled, continuing.
And Kors, choking, involuntarily took several sips, urine flowed down his chin.
Arel stopped, Kors looked at him, wiping his face. The bed was wet too.
“I didn’t humiliate you like that,” he said, getting up from the bed with resentment, he no longer looked at Arel, didn’t want to meet his eyes.
“You can do it if you want,” Arel shrugged.
“I don’t want to be like Leonardo and others,” said Kors, and without looking at Arel, he rushed into the bathroom.
Arel very quickly came to him, went down to the pool. Kors no longer took offense at him, responded to the gentle touches.
“Take off the mask, I miss your face,” said Kors, “even if it is awful.”
Arel silently opened his face.
They started kissing again.
Chapter four
When Vitor Kors and Prince Arel, tired and satisfied, returned to the room, they found a servant-slave in it. In their absence, he brought a tray of dinner and remade the dirty bed. All the servants wore a helmet-mask on their heads, which completely covered their heads and faces. Thin, short, hunched over, it was clear from the proportions of the body that this slave was male. In a simple black clothing, a work robe and a long jacket over a shirt, gloves closed at the wrists with wide steel bracelets, while doing his work, he moved carefully, but without fussing.
Kors approached the table, lifted several heavy lids from the plates, examining what the slave had brought. Involuntarily, he poked his finger into a strange jelly-like dish, which easily swayed from the touch, and immediately restored its shape, as if there were no dents from the finger.
“Hey, come here!” Kors called the slave in unclean language. He immediately reacted and, leaving the scraper with which he was cleaning the floor near the massive candlestick counter, approached him. He stood in front of Kors with his head lowered. The slits for the eyes in his mask were obscured by an additional shield – only a narrow strip at the very bottom remained for vision. The slave could look at his feet, see his hands, the table, the floor, but he couldn’t look straight ahead, much less look up. Kors understood that the slave didn’t see his face, but saw only the thighs wrapped in a soft towel.