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Astor rises as his office door opens. When he sees his little guest, he lifts his arms and gives him a grand, cheerful smile.
“Fon Master Ion!” the guild leader greets, excitement spilling into his voice unrestrained, “I’m so glad to see you!”
“Hello, Astor. I’m glad to see you too.” He enters Astor’s space, and his guardian, who had been following him closely before, now awkwardly finds her spot in a far corner of the room.
Astor doesn’t touch, but he looks Ion over, examining his face especially, before speaking again.
“Good, it really is you. You know, the Order tried to send me a different one, but I knew right away, ee hee hee.”
“A different one?” Ion pretends not to know what Astor’s talking about.
“Mhm. He looked just like you, but he didn’t wear the jewelry I bought you. And his lips were dry—he wasn’t prepared for the Chesedonia heat. One of your littermates, I assume?”
“I apologize for being so unprepared, Astor.” Ion gets closer. The right side of his mouth twitches upwards, telling on his little untruth. “Am I to your liking now?”
“Ah, right, you aren’t allowed to talk about that. Don’t disappear on me again, and I won’t have to bring it up. Now come, come sit, let’s catch up.”
Astor returns to his seat. Ion follows, but hesitates at the table. He’s likely expected to take a chair like any other guest to the palace, but he loathes to be so distant, especially what had apparently happened with one of his brothers. After a bit of silent deliberation, he walks around the table to Astor’s side. He hitches up his robes a bit and takes his spot in Astor’s lap, knees resting on either side of the older man’s legs. Astor cackles, and the scent of his breath in Ion’s face is overwhelming, making the fon master a little dizzy.
“I do apologize once again. You sent for me at a good time, though; I’m right on the edge of heat.” He tries not to sound desperate, but there’s still a perceptible shaky edge to his voice, and it’s obvious with the position he’s in now.
“Oho, is that so? How bad is it, Fon Master?”
Ion lifts his robes up further, far enough to expose both sets of his small, soft masculine breasts. The fon master’s white stockings are soaked through and turned clear around his crotch, exposing his usual lack of underwear and his most delicate parts beneath.
“Gosh...” Ion shakes his head. He got so wrapped up in his selfish business in Grand Chokmah, with Anise, then Luke, that he’d forgotten how important his jobs were elsewhere. “Forgive me for being so forward, and maybe a little crass, but…” Ion closes his eyes and whimpers. “Breed me for as long as my guardian allows. I want a litter from you again, Astor.”