Second Servings

Quiet words above me, muffled by the table, continue to tickle at the fringes of my ears, but I don't let myself worry about them. It either has to do with me, being talked about quietly enough I won't hear it, or it has nothing to do with me at all.

Either way, it's fundamentally none of my business. All I need to think about now are the twins' beautiful cocks, and their added servings of sweet milk. Muted as I am, I cannot moan for them, but my mouth can still worship Juno's hardened rod.

I bob my head slow, sucking lovingly on her cock, showing her my heart. Her flavour is warm and pleasant on my tongue, even as I force myself off of her. I shift and slide a little, moving my mouth back to Enzo, switching hands to stroking Juno.

I won't ever leave the twins unattended, and I hate separating them. I'll work harder if I have to, to ensure they both cum, again, as close together as possible. Enzo's cock tastes just as wonderful in my mouth as Juno's, so I do love servicing them.

I swallow softly, as soon as Enzo's crown enters my throat, and all the way down until my lips lock to his hilt. I can feel his heartbeat, but he's not there. Not yet. I swallow harder around his cock as my lips slide up, showing Enzo my adoration.

I count my movements, once down, once up. Twice down, twice up. Thrice down, thrice back up once more. Then I switch, shifting back to Juno, to maintain an alternation that elevates them both toward their release, as I suck their cocks, slowly.

If they want me to increase my pace, they can discreetly indicate it to me without other acknowledgement. They're giving me bonus servings of milk, I've technically already finished dinner. Above me, however, they haven't, so I remain muted.

For a few rotations, I maintain the slow pace, until I feel Juno's foot underneath my balls. I blink and look up at the table's underside, wondering what she wants. A moment later, she taps the bridge of her foot against my balls lightly, and slowly.

Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause. Tap. Then, tap-tap-tap-tap. My brain processes the wordless communication as a question of pace and I hasten. I bob my head fast and hard, and adjust the movement of my hand on Enzo's cock to match the new tempo.

Juno's bridge caresses my balls, rewarding me, before she rests her foot on my cock, pinning it to the floor to ensure that I am focused on hers. I move my head as fast as I can, now, taking the most aggressive and hungriest approach I can for her.

My reward is swift, a minute later her meat is pulsing in my mouth, Enzo's heartbeat racing under my stroking motions. I lock my lips around Juno's hilt, hungrily swallowing as her milk pumps into my throat, for the second time this evening.

Squeezing tight around his cock, I hold Enzo at the edge, until Juno's meat ceases to pulse in my throat. Quickly moving, I swallow around Juno to drain her of every drop before hurrying to Enzo. My mouth almost slams down onto his thick hilt.

Milk floods my lower throat immediately, and I greedily swallow, draining my younger brother's beautiful cock and heavy balls enthusiastically. When the pulsation ends, I sigh softly, my stomach filled with the milk my family has provided me.

I slide my mouth off Enzo's cock slowly, curling my fingers around him and Juno both, like solid handlebars to steady my kneel. Licking my lips slowly with satisfaction, I stare at their beautiful cocks in my hands, and start stroking them gently.

A light kick to my balls from my younger brother reminds me of my place, and not to be greedy. I lean forward and just gently, apologetically kiss his cock, my fingers drifting off him. His foot brushes my cock gently, caressing, forgiving me.

I kiss Juno's cock in turn, as my fingers drift off her, and she rewards me with a similar faint hint of touch. Almost like she is telling me I'm a good boy, before I leave her. I've found, over the last few days, that their milk tends to digest quite fast.

The energy it gives me lingers, but my body absorbs the nutrients swiftly. I crawl out from underneath the table and then turn, slowly pushing myself up. Once I'm standing, I'm still muted, so I can't say anything, but I can make myself visible.

“Good boy,” Dad says, as he looks at me, “Volume 2. Did you enjoy your dinner, slut?”

“Yes, Dad,” I answer, my voice restored, but my volume low, intimate, “Thank you for dinner, everyone. It was delicious.” My eyes focus on each of them, smiling appreciatively, lovingly. I wait to see if they need anything further, from me, now.

“You may clear the table, faggot,” Mom says, motioning toward the dinner. I quickly shift into motion, clearing the table and putting their food away in the refrigerator, then return for their dishes, as my family continues their conversation.

“Volume 2 is rather soft, isn't it?” Dad asks.

“As I understand it,” Enzo answers, “It is the lowest vocal setting. Volume 1 is, I think, technically a voiceless whispering volume. Best for subtle, discreet conversations. I think 3 or 4 is meant to be the normal speaking conversational volume?”

“Amy didn't tell us everything, obviously,” Juno notes, “we're not hypnotists, we don't completely understand what she's doing to him, but, she's demonstrated to our satisfaction that the reprogramming hasn't robbed him of will, or memory.”

“Actually, aside from the intentional amnesia inductions, on the first day, I don't think he's forgotten anything, honestly,” Enzo muses, “He may actually have better recollection, now, than before. I mean, he's always had a good memory, but ...”

“Now forgetfulness may no longer be actually possible, for him, you think?” Mom asks, as I come back to the table and just stand quietly, the table clear and neat. Enzo and Juno both nod, which makes me wonder if they're right about that point.

“Volume 3, slut,” Juno says, as she looks at me, and I smile appreciatively.

“Thanks, Juno!” I answer, at a more reasonable volume, and Mom and Dad nod.

“Volume 3 seems to be the most reasonable. Loud enough to not strain our ears to hear him, but still ... relatively quieter,” Dad concurs, “I think that should be our standard setting for him. Volume 3, so that we can hear him when we're talking.”

“So what are your plans for tonight?” Mom asks.

“Oh, we had some game night time, earlier, before you got home,” Juno says, “Winner gets to milk the slut for Amy. Which reminds me! Enzo and I will take full responsibility for milking him more frequently. Amy would like his milk for herself.”

“That's a big responsibility, you know, you two,” Dad says, “but if you're confident you can handle milking him regularly, so Amy can have his milk, I don't see anything wrong with that. Do you feel up to participating in game night, faggot?”

“I, uh ... no, Dad,” I shake my head, “The twins milked me four times before dinner. I'm a little worn out and would like to be allowed to lay down and read a book, if that is okay.” Dad nods, and I smile appreciatively, walking over to hug him.

Dad stands, picking me up in his embrace as he squeezes me tightly, and I cuddle into his arms. I breathe in the comfort, the reassuring scent of him, closing my eyes as he holds me. “I love you, Dad. Thanks for being the best Dad ever.”

“Well,” he laughs, “I don't know about best Dad ever, but thank you. I love you, too, little slut. Go on, go to your room.” He sets me down, and I bound out of the kitchen and loop around to my bedroom, finding a book to read before laying down.