The Devonshire BrothersbyCarelessLove©
All communication in parenthesis is done mentally.
Silence echoed within the tight confines of the carriage as it quickly sped through the cool autumn night, the passengers inside each lost in their own thoughts. Neither paid attention to the foreboding trees outlining the trail at which they traveled, nor did they pay any heed to the eerie howls of a wolf pack near by. Lesser men would have ordered the driver to turn around but not the Devonshire brothers...they had a job to do.
They were the hired stallions of Madam Baden's House, a notorious house with the reputation of having the finest whores in London...the finest male whores. It catered to the part of society with a taste for forbidden pleasures. Their was nothing to taboo that could not be bought for the right price.
The Devonshire twins were the most sought after in their profession, each possessing the skills to lure any man to their knees. They had become so sought after that the Madam turned almost all other customers away but for an exclusive few and only if they could meet Madam Baden's requirements.
Money being the first and foremost to fill. For an acclaimed night with the Devonshire brothers, a single patron needed at least one hundred thousand pounds plus a few extra depending on what services were to be rendered. Then beyond that the Madam performed back round checks to discover if they were a worthy patron. She would not tolerate an abusive guest nor would she stomach a diseased patron touching her stock.
The men they were racing to meet had surpassed all of her qualifications. Each man was healthy, kind, and more than willing to meet her price....they had even paid her more than what was usually required if the rumors held true.
They were the Duke of Triste and his business partner, Lord Arden. Each was an extremely wealthy man, but whereas the Duke was from a very renowned family tree, Lord Arden had come to the dreary shores of London from America. He was one of the many Nouveau Reich that had made their fortune there and traveled here in search of a titled heiress.
At least...that was what the rumor mill could produce. Whether it be true or not remained to be seen. There was a great deal of mystery surrounding The Duke of Triste, and his associate. They were rarely seen out in society, each being rumored to be a bit eccentric and preferring to conduct what business to be had during the deepest hours of the night. Little could be said about them and when little was to report that was true the most leeway gossipers got to fabricate news.
(Such a stupid endeavor.) Revan Devonshire sighed to himself as he watch the endless parade of shadows fly by his window. He had no idea if the gossip mongers were right in their assumptions, but it most likely was in the world of the aristocracy. He'd had many a patron who had come to town looking for the exact same thing...he had once felt a great swell of pity for the poor bastards but as he encountered man after man with a like frame of mind his pity soon turned to disgust.
Revan had always found it stupid for a man to a women he didn't love in order to place himself among the aristocracy. There was imply no point in Revan's mind that made it relevant to let one's self suffer for the sake of a title...but in a Society of snobs they were everything, and that was the truly disturbing part. (I'm glad I don't have to worry over that shite.)
And he never would for he and his brother, Quil were common born. Descending from Ireland at the tender age of twelve, the brothers were forced to become thieves in order to survive. It wasn't until one fateful night at sixteen that they were propositioned by the Madam herself. They had been apprehended by the magistrate for a breaking and entering and would have been sentenced to the prison hulk if she had not intervened.
The Madam offered them a binding contract that would keep them in her employ until they had paid back the money she had paid the Magistrate for their release. What she had failed to mention was the fact that one of the conditions for their release was the free patronage of the Magistrate to the Madam's establishment. They were not only meant to pay off the amount of three hundred thousand pounds but the fees from every visit the Magistrate paid to her establishment from then on....which were many. And after twelve years the bastard hadn't stopped.
They had long since paid off the three hundred thousand but with the Magistrate still rutting in the Madam's establishment, they were still trying to pay off the rest.
How Revan wished that the old Bastard would just kick off already. At sixty-two, Magistrate Conroy, was still going strong and it wasn't the number of visits that were doing the brothers in but the number of men who serviced him a night and the sexual requests. He was becoming far more lewd and adventurous in his old age, requesting orgies and playing with bondage.
He had no finesse for such activities. He was to heavy handed with his games but continued to tread that fine line between pleasure pain and abuse. Revan had seen the effects of his handy work. Had even tended to most of the burns and cuts on his fellow workers...but the worst were the bruises. Nothing to big lest it draw the Madam's attention but painful and deep just the same. They tend to linger far longer than the others.
The only good thing that occurred after spending a night with the Magistrate was the fact that whomever came away with injuries was allowed time off in order to heal. A small blessing to be sure...unless the Magistrate was partial to you. He had several favorites among Revan's workmates.
The Madam had been forced to trade them out so that they could receive the care they required. The Magistrate was only allowed one favorite among as many others as he wanted. He was far to hash in his affections for their to be more and still be able to service him on each visit.
To date Magistrate Conroy was the only patron the Madam allowed such casualties....if she did not, her two most prized cash cows were surely to be taken away.
Suddenly the carriage came to a jarring halt, successfully breaking into Revan's thoughts. They had reached their destination.
Revan's breath caught as his eyes focused on their destination. Consisting of Victorian peaks and foreboding towers that stretched well into the darkness of the night, the mansion itself was far more massive than any he had ever seen. The main structure stood at four stories high and boasted at least forty rooms. Each was alight from within, glaring from the shadows at all who dared to approach.
"Wow." Quil murmured, his soft lavender eyes sparkling with interest.
"It doesn't matter." Revan stated, hardening himself to the splendor before him. He's seen it all before. Young rich lords showing off their money for no other reason than to make everyone else more aware of how insignificant they are. They lived only for their own pleasure and that was why the Devonshire brothers were called upon. "We have a job to do."
Exiting the carriage, they made their way through the gardens surrounding the mansion, the moonlight guiding their steps as they walked along the cobbled driveway leading to the front doors. The array of flowers were shrouded in shadows but they could make out heather and carnations and from the smells surrounding them he suspected that there was a fair amount of hyacinth as well. They were arranged in neat little rows and circles surrounding the two fountains on either side of them.
Each fountain depicted a scene of a couple embracing, their scantily clad bodies pressed together in a seductive pose. One had a full figured woman reaching behind her head to entwine her arms around her lover's neck while he had his face buried in the crease of hers. His right hand cradled the left side of her delicate face wile his left lay over the apex of her thighs, the thin material of her gown seemingly the only thing between his questing hand and her most secret place. The other was even more suggestive. It depicted a woman kneeling at a man's feet, her hungry lips caressing the barred perfection of his muscled stomach. His head was thrown back, his stone lips parted in an eternal gasp at the pleasure his partner provided. His strong hands were buried within the stone tresses of her hair, lovingly cradling her head yet grasping the tresses in an erotic grip. It was as if the garden had been created for lovers to revel in, indulging in their every desire and experiencing the heights of pleasure.
Revan had never seen one quite like it before...at least none as daring.
Upon reaching the doors, the calm reserve Revan surrounded himself with was breached and his heart began to race. He felt a subtle mixture of trepidation and anticipation of the night to come. It was almost comforting in a strange way....he wasn't as jaded as he thought he was.
He supposed the trepidation was because he had no idea of what was expected of him and his brother. The Madam had not informed them of what special services were required. In fact, her last departing words were, "Give them whatever they ask."
It was an extremely vague thing to say. There was no telling what was expected of their performance and Revan had no idea what the Duke and his friend would demand of them. The only thing that made him feel even slightly relieved about the situation was the knowledge that the Madam would not have entrusted he and his brother to the Duke if he were a cruel man.
The anticipation was for the night itself. He, despite selling his body on a regular basis, liked sex. The heady feeling of being able to touch someone, to be able to learn their bodies and bring pleasure to someone other than himself.
He also loved to be touched, for someone to care about his pleasure enough to learn his most secret places and sensitive areas. Lovers like that were sometimes few and far between, most men only hiring he and his brother to look after not their own pleasure but his. But when one happened along, Revan let himself enjoy them to the fullest extent.
And therein lay a problem. If he were to fully enjoy someone, an emotional attachment was a very high risk...a risk that could land him in a great deal of trouble. So rules were put into place as a way to govern his actions. The first and foremost being No Emotional Attachments. You treat the job as what it is...a job. And whatever you see, hear, feel, and do on that job you leave it there once you are done.
"You remember the rules, right?" He asked his twin softly as they stood before the carved mahogany doors to the Triste mansion. "What you see and do here, you leave here."
"I know." Quil retorted softly, an undertone of anger lacing his words as he reached out to use the brass knocker. Just as his slim fingers touched the lion's head the doors swung open to reveal an austere gentleman in servant's attire.
"Welcome Young Masters." He greeted the brothers softly, bowing deeply at the waist. He was an elderly gentlemen, mid to late seventies, with steel colored hair cropped close to his scalp and the body of a waif. As almost all elderly Revan had ever met, the man appeared to be slightly malnourished... Revan couldn't help but think that the butlers time was drawing to a close on this Earth.
As he began to straighten, Revan and his brother rushed forward to help steady him as he began to wobble precariously. "We'll help you, Sir, please grab onto us."
Gnarled hands reached out to grasp their forearms, the grip surprisingly firm for such an elderly man as they grasped him beneath the arms. They helped him regain his balance swiftly, each of them retaining their hold upon the man until they were sure he was alright but even then, neither of them completely left his side.
"Thank you, Young Masters." He wheezed, his breathing labored as if he had run a mile.
(Poor man.) Revan thought to himself as he bent down to retrieve the white towel he had dropped. "No problem, we are happy to help."
"Do you need to sit down?" Quil asked, his eyes already searching the darkened hallway for a chair.
"I'm quite alright, no reason to fuss." He replied softly as he accepted the towel from Revan. "Besides, you are both expected by my Master in his study."
He brushed their hands aside as they reached out to assist him once more and began to walk the long hallway, his feet shuffling slightly on the crimson carpeting. Each brother stayed close, both prepared to catch him if he were to fall once more and followed as he led them to his Master's study.
He knocked upon the heavy doors, hard enough that Revan feared that his knuckles would crack. After he was done, Revan nearly reached out to check if that had indeed happened but he doubted the butler would appreciate such concern. Just from being in his company for a short time, Revan could deduce that he was a strong man, as proud as any other, and as stubborn as the day was long. He would accept the basic amount of help to ease along but he would not tolerate coddling.
"Come in." A firm masculine voice called from the other side, his tone only slightly muffled by the thick wood. It was full of authority and expectation as only one could achieve by having his commands obeyed constantly.
It was then that the Butler opened the door to the Duke of Triste's study and for the second time that night Revan gasped in amazement.
In the center of the room lounged the most beautiful naked man Revan had ever seen. His whipcord lean body was relaxed into the crimson cushions of a settee, the deep color in contrast with his pale white skin. He was flawless, no scars or pockmarks marring the gorgeous expanse of his flesh, only a fine smattering of hair leading from the center of his chest between his soft pink nipples to a denser collection of hair surrounding his flaccid shaft.
Revan's mouth fairly watered at the prospect of taking the man's nipples into his mouth. He could almost taste them now, the soft flesh hardening to rigid points in pleasure. He wanted to suck them until the man begged for him to fuck him then nibble on them to drive him insane with lust. Only when the man was close to coming would Revan then move on to his cock, teasing him with moist puffs of air until he came.
Nestled lovingly against his thigh, the man's cock was slender. There was little doubt in Revan's mind that even when erect, his cock would not reach more than six inches...the perfect length to take him fully in his mouth when the time came.
But not only was his body lovely, his appearance was beyond any Revan had ever glimpsed. With the fine honed face of an aristocrat, the man looked like an angel. He had the signature high cheekbones and slender nose, but his lips were deliciously full...almost as full as a woman's. They were an almost an identical pink to that of his nipples, soft and dewy, the bottom only slightly fuller than the top. It was as if the man was made for kissing.
His hair was the color of rich honey, falling in heedless waves over his shoulders and back. His brows were slightly darker, arched in the middle as if in question. They matched the sharpness of his jaw, giving him a pointed chin kissed in the middle with an adorable dimple. Strangely, there were no laugh lines bracketing his eyes and mouth...just smooth perfection. He was indeed lovely beyond reproach, but his eyes...they were even more so.
Their oval shape gave him an exotic appearance, heavily fringed with long black eyelashes and lined with a faint trace of Kohl. They were the perfect frame for one of the purest gold colors he had ever seen. There were no other colors mixed in to mar their perfection...just perfect molten gold.
"Thank you, Benjamin." The commanding voice murmured from before, breaking into Revan's thoughts. "You've done well."
"Very good, Master. Will there be anything else?" The Butler, Benjamin, asked in his wispy voice.
"That will be all."
"As you wish." Benjamin replied before bowing deeply to the back of a massive chair. The same color as the settee, it was of the same swirling designs and appeared of oriental make. "Good night, Young Masters."
The study door closed firmly behind Benjamin as he departed, the audible click echoing in the confines of the study. Although study was not what Revan would have called it...it was much more a giant library. Consisting of two levels, the walls were lined with bookshelves, filled floor to ceiling with thousands of books. There was no hint of the wallpaper behind. The second level was much the same except resembled a balcony spanning the entire room before dividing into a grand staircase to reach the bottom. The domed ceiling was alight with the candles that hung suspended from three crystal chandeliers. The only thing that might have made it a study was the solid mahogany desk to the right of the settee.
Suddenly the beautiful blond arose from the settee, his slender hips swaying seductively as he walked toward them. There was a decidedly feline quality about him...almost a restrained energy that vibrated in the air around him.
"Welcome." He greeted the two brothers, his throaty voice deep instead of the soft undertone Revan had suspected. "I am Gideon Arden."
The first to shake his proffered hand was Quil, his grip hesitant and light as if he feared that he would somehow damage him. Their was the most peculiar look on his face, one Revan hadn't seen since before they had begun working for the Madam. He was enraptured, his soft lavender eyes alight with pleasure as he touched Lord Arden. Quil was caught in Arden's web.
"And you must be...?"
"Quil Devonshire, Sir." Quil answered immediately, a slight blush staining his honey colored skin. "I'm the youngest, Sir."
"Then you must be Revan." Lord Arden laughed as he disengaged himself from Revan's brother in order to shake his hand. "The Duke has been awaiting your arrival most impatiently."
(Impatiently huh?) That must mean that he was not hired to savor Lord Arden as he had hoped but the Duke instead. Revan's eyes wandered briefly to the armchair that still hid the duke from view, letting his intense midnight eyes burn into it's back before smiling at Lord Arden. (I guess not all jobs can be to my taste.)
"We're pleased to meet you, Lord Arden." Revan replied, successfully keeping his disappointment hidden.
But his efforts were to naught as the Duke laughed darkly. "Don't sound so disappointed, Child."
"Revan is no child, my friend." Lord Arden laughed before Revan could form his cutting reply, his eyes wandering the length of his body. More intimate than any physical caress, it instantly slammed into his stomach to burn like fine whiskey.
"Good." The Duke of Triste chuckled as his body arose from the armchair. "I've never been one much for children."
As gloriously naked as his business partner had been the Duke was muscular whereas Arden was lean, sporting broad shoulders and brawny arms thick with steely muscle. His back narrowed down into a trim waist and the most mouth watering ass Revan had ever glimpsed. He was nicely rounded yet firm...a fine spank able ass. His thighs and calves where roped with the same steely muscle as the rest of him and would have made his body appear malformed if he had not been such a tall man. He was well over six and a half feet of glistening bronzed skin.
Revan momentarily wondered if the Duke went about naked during the day for he was bronzed even on his backside and legs. He shouldn't have been surprised considering the motif of his garden. It was a place for lovers to consort, and Revan could already see images of the Duke rolling around naked in its emerald grasses.
Triste had yet to face them, seemingly content to let their gazes rest upon his back. It was certainly a spectacular view but Revan wanted to admire the rest...he just wasn't going to admit it.