Chapter 3

Taven wouldn’t have admitted it if his life depended upon it but right now he felt like never leaving this room. Because he’d never had it better before. He had not shown any gratitude what so ever of course. Wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. But he had been pretty awe-struck at this room. He had not believed it at first when that man had told him it was his. He had never had a room of his own in all his life before. He had never had one single space anywhere to call his own for that matter. And this was a real room and it had a real bed and other furniture and he had his own bathroom. No, he could still not believe it. He hadn’t seen it at first when he had been locked in, then it had been just another cage but that door had not been locked since and when it was open… well then it became a room, his room. So far no one had violated his privacy either. Though he was sure someone would sooner or later. He had never had any right to any privacy, why would he get that now? But so far he had been able to pretend that it was like that and it felt damn good. So now that the door was unlocked he had no real desire to leave the room. He wanted to revel in the luxury of being on his own (not the same thing as being abandoned or put in isolation). He wanted to revel in not having to expect violation at any time (though he didn’t trust that feeling much, sure he would be violated sooner or later. That man had been suspiciously nice to him so far but... No he didn't trust it). He wanted to revel in feeling the sheer luxury of these surroundings. Could anyone that had not slept on the floors all his life, only being let up in a bed to be raped, really understand what it felt like to sleep every night, alone, in your own bed? Could anyone that had not have to wash up in a bucket or in laundry room sink, only being let in a shower to be raped, understand what it was like to soak in a tub for hours all by yourself? Could anyone that had not been locked into a windowless pit without light understand what it was like to control your own light-switch? Could anyone that had not have to wear chains for months on end really understand what it was like to have been able to stay in this wonderful room now for four whole days and be totally unrestrained all that time? No, he thought not. He never wanted this to change. He wanted to stay in here forever. He wanted to lie on this bed forever and just savor the taste of his first real name on his lips… Though in time he got a bit bored. Not that that wonderful feeling changed but he got a bit bored never the same. The slaves coming down here giving him food (and Jesus what food, never had such wonderful food in his life) didn’t talk to him much. Of course he didn’t exactly invite them too. He just glared at them and he supposed they had been warned about him. They mostly put the tray down on the table and left hurriedly. And he started wondering why his new owner did not come down anymore or sent for him or anything. It seemed strange. If he wasn’t the least interested in him then why didn’t he just get rid of him? It couldn’t be some kind of punishment? Being treated this well was in that case the strangest punishment he’d ever got. He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that man. He was so strange. It gave him a headache trying to figure him out. He would never admit that either but he felt a bit bad behaving so badly when this man had been so nice to him. He had yelled at him, used such foul language, biting his bodyguard, giving him all that trouble, breaking that chair on the door and last but not least, trying to strangle him… Or really, he hadn’t really tried to strangle him, he didn’t know what he had tried to do, he had been so confused. And he did feel bad because after all this that would normally have earned him a lot of pain or even death… that man had been nice all through it. Had not hurt him once, had taken the chains off him, let him stay here in this room, gave him good food, had hardly even raised his voice at him…. And last but not least had given him a name, his brother’s name. (It had touched him so much he had lost control and was only glad that no one had seen him bawling like a weak kid and now he was ashamed of it but he was still touched.) And sometimes he thought it was maybe time to try to act a bit more proper because he would like to stay and he wouldn’t be allowed to if he kept this attitude up too long, he knew that. Half of the time he pushed all of these thoughts aside and worked on feeding his hate instead. This man was nice, yes, but that meant squat he told himself. He shouldn’t be fooled by it. He was still a master, wasn’t he? And masters always wanted something from him. Wanted to use him and abuse him. It had always been like that, why would this be different? That man did seem different so far but so what? It was just a matter of different methods he supposed. His friendliness was a trick no doubt. Though he didn’t understand why he would go about all these time consuming tricks to get him where he wanted him when it would be so much easier to just go about it the way his last owner had. The first time he had refused him he had simply knocked him unconscious and fucked him while he was out. Had he not woken up with his ass on fire, blood trailing his thighs he would not even have known. He had fought that man with all he had got and he had lost every single time. His last owner had physically been a very strong man; he had never stood a chance. Sometimes he thought that it was a wonder he was still alive today considering how much he had been beaten up. He had promised himself then that he would never yield for less than that which had made him the slave from hell. Ha, that stupid slave trader never understood why he couldn’t get him to co-operate, had he beaten him more than his former master had he would have. But for all the abuse he had suffered in that slave trader’s house it had still not been half of what he had suffered with his last master. This man’s tricks were of a different kind, it confused him, didn’t know how to react to it. A part of him just wanted to indulge in it. Wouldn’t it just be so wonderful if that man really… But no, he could not trust him, just could not. Of course it was tricks… >>> * <<< He got too bored and decided to venture outside his room. He got up early the next morning and snuck out in the hallway. He didn’t know where to go at first. Didn’t remember which way they had come when he was taken here. He had no desire to run into someone or accidentally walk into someone else’s room. But after many turns and a whole lot of careful tiptoeing around he suddenly found his way out into a garden at the back of the house. Shit this was a big house; he was worried he was not going to find his way back to the room. His new master must be rich as hell. Just like everything else around here he had never seen something like this before. The garden was a bit like a public park; he’d been in a few of those, or at least it seemed as big. But it was a much nicer version. There was no garbage here. No drunks sleeping under the bushes, no people on the whole… He walked around for a while enjoying being able to just saunter about aimlessly. After a while he came upon a small green bench near a fountain and for no particular reason he sat down and stared at the fountain. It was dry no water in it and he was wondering why when suddenly it sort of hissed and spat and started to spurt. He started and looked about him to see who had put the water on but there was no one around. Maybe it was rigged to set of automatically? He leaned back then and relaxed only to almost elevate from the bench at a sudden voice behind him. "Well, look who’s out and roaming about!" He recognized the voice at once. The same strange amiability in it, the sort he didn’t know if to trust or not. He raised and turned to face his owner. Defenses all up on instinct. "You haven’t said I can’t be here," he snarled. "No. And why would I? Why would I stop you from walking in the garden?" Taven had no answer to that. "I was beginning to think though that you had planned to stay down there for all eternity." Taven was as always prepared to read an accusation into anything. What was he saying? That he had tried to hide from or dodge work? Well, how the hell was he supposed to know what to do? He didn’t know anything about this house or what they wanted him to do and no one had told him anything. "You haven’t told me to get out of there, have you?" he spat back. Nikal smiled. "So now you suddenly waited around for an order is that what you’re saying? I thought you were the type to not take orders very well?" Taven went red from anger but kept quiet. Just didn’t know what to say. That man kept twisting his words around and it was apparently not possible to chock or provoke him with cursing and other foul language. For the moment Taven could only frown. "Well, I could and I probably should and it is my right to order you about but it seems it will do neither of us any good," Nikal said, "thought I’d better just leave you alone for a while until you got bored and then we could discuss things." "What things?" "Well, things like what you will do here, of what use you could be. I have a few suggestions of course but I’m open for ideas." Taven could feel his face change from a slight flush to crimson and he really wished his pale skin wouldn’t make him change color like that when he got upset. "Fuck! Would you just quit doing that you… you…" "Doing what?" Nikal seemed again genuinely oblivious of what he might have done to obviously upset the kid this much. "You’re just taunting me. Oh it’s so damn funny to make fun of the stupid slave, isn’t it? To hell with you!" For the first time the mildly mannered aristocrat looked really annoyed. Hadn’t had such a scowl even when he had tried to strangle him. "You are really trying my patience Taven… Why the hell would I taunt you?" "As if you always asks your slaves what they like to do." Taven yelled. The scowl on his master’s face melted away. "No, you’re right. That’s not how I usually go about it Taven but I don’t like to force anyone, not even slaves, to do something they would really feel bad about. Well, I was out to get myself some attendance when I came to the trade house that was all. That was my original plan anyway…" Taven looked suspiciously at him under his thick bangs. "Atten…what’s that?" "It only means that I want someone to go with me to different places. People like me have to visit a lot of places and see a lot of people you know? It’s for business and it’s for fun but most of the times it’s for both. I need some company then, someone who is always there and who can do these small favors for me so that I can go about my businesses without having to keep my mind on such things." Taven thought it sounded stupid. "You just want someone to follow you around, ha?" Nikal smiled. "Yeah you could put it that way I guess." Taven returned that smile but it was a very smug one. "Why don’t you just get yourself a damn dog!" Nikal didn’t stop smiling but it got a tad stiffer. "Touché. Though it’s a job that requires a brain just a tad brighter than a dog’s. I’m beginning to doubt you have it!" Nikal looked suddenly much colder and Taven thought he should be happy that he finally managed to get on that man’s nerves but surprised himself with not being able to feel the malicious glee he sought. "Well, I am not surprised," Nikal went on, "I did know at the first sight of you that I couldn’t use you for that. Can’t really have such a cocky, foulmouthed and depressing creature amongst decent folks. You must know that yourself?" Taven clenched his hand into fists. "Then why the hell did you buy me, ha?" Nikal shrugged. "For the life of me… Well, I guess I just took pity on you. I do things like that. It’s the curse with being so rich you really don’t have to think about what you waste your money on. I guess you were just an impulse buy." An impulse buy? Right now Taven hated that man as much as he had ever hated anything. Every fiber of his being just wanted to attack him and don’t bother the consequences. And he would have, he would have if he thought that he would have had the remotest chance of doing some injury. And he would have did he think that this man would react with having him severely punished so that he could hate him for the rest of his life. But now he knew this man’s physical advantages. He would have no time to do any damage before he would flip him and hold him like before. And he would probably not hurt him at all, just hold him, rendering him helpless and then forgive him. Nothing could have hurt his pride more than that right now. He dared not leap at this man again. Tears of frustration rose in his eyes. He couldn’t accept that he had bought him just because he felt sorry for him. "You’re lying!" he screamed, "don’t you think I know what men like you are after? Keeping company my ass. You fucking molesting perverts just buy kids to abuse them, don’t you think I know what you really want…" Somewhere inside Taven knew he had just set a trap for himself again as he failed once more to get the reaction he wanted out of this man. Nikal just waited until he had screamed himself hoarse and couldn’t think of anything more to blurt out. There was silence then until Nikal started talking as calmly as ever but much, much colder. "You are sure assuming a lot of things. You assume to know about my preferences concerning sex, which is not in any way anything of your concern. You assume I need to buy myself sex? Do I look like I need to? You assume that I fancy my own sex? And so if I do? Why would I seek such company in a slave? You assume I like to abuse children? Well, you are not a small child anymore, are you? You assume I bought you to abuse you? Now even if I did have the habit of buying slaves for my sexual satisfaction why do you assume you would be in my taste? You find yourself irresistible or what?" Nikal just shrugged as if all of this, Taven standing there so upset he was numb, this "discussion", the whole damn thing, didn’t interest him one bit anymore and he turned and walked away. Taven was stunned. But then he snapped out of it and ran after the man. "Hey…I can do that…that attendis…. thing." Nikal stopped and turned towards him, shaking his head. "No, I’m afraid that’s out of the question." "But… What the hell do you want me here for then? You don’t want me to serve you, you don’t want to touch me… you don’t even want to beat the hell out of me for the fun of it. Though I know you could…" The last was added with a sort of grim look on his face. "I thought you didn’t want to serve," Nikal answered, "It doesn’t seem likely to me that you would want to be touched sexually and I can’t believe you really want to be beaten. You are just trying to see how far you can push people. And you want to be able to hate them, right? I’m just letting you live the way you want. You are not wanting for anything, are you? There’s clothes in your room and you get plenty of food." The boy was truly stunned again. "But…?" "But what? You want to tell me now how I should treat a slave properly? I know very well I should be harder on you but I just don’t care to bother. If I were, you would just rebel until I had to have you killed, right? You may mean money wasted but it doesn’t show on my budget the least. You stay in that room and do nothing. I don’t care. If I care to bother I might sell you one day when I have the time." Taven stared at him. He cared so little? He knew that no one had really cared for him ever. That was quite obvious but the men that had owned him before had not been totally indifferent. They had been cruel to him, yes but they had recognized his existence. They had recognized it as being less than a dog’s but with this man he was apparently less than air. He had got no kindness out of his former owners, but with all the punishments and abuse they had put him through he at least had got feelings out of them. Now, to this man he was apparently so utterly unimportant that he didn’t even bother to punish him. But he had seemed so nice, given him a name and all? He couldn’t believe the sudden coldness. It struck him as far worse then the whippings of his last master that sometimes had been so bad he had nearly died from it. At least he had been able to make that man react towards him. Suddenly he couldn't stand the indifference any more. "But if I…" he drew closer, "If I came to your bed… I’m good at it… I really am… I’d do anything you would fancy…" He silenced unsure. He’d said he was not in his taste? It made him feel horrible and so confused. He’d always hated the sex more than he had hated anything else. The humiliation of it, the pain, the disgusting things they’d made him do. But at the same time he’d learned that in it lay his only worth. He was good for nothing else, they’ve told him so enough times. He believed it. And in their lust he had (no matter how it disgusted him) felt a certain power. The only power he would ever know was that to make a man horny. But it wasn’t him doing it really; he knew that. It was his looks, his smallish boyish frame, his hairless complexion, and his long soft hair, his soft lips and moist eyes. His very youth. He didn’t have that anymore, he knew that. He was beginning to be too old, too coarse, and too damn ugly. His last owner had said so. He had beaten him more and more the older he got. Didn’t care eventually if he marred his lily-white skin. He had lost the power and he had got sold and no matter how badly he behaved he was just looking really for a man that would be strong enough to beat him into submission. And who would think him still young enough to take him so that he could be seen and be acknowledged the only way he’d ever knew how. This man was strong enough; he’d proved that without beating him even. That he was kind was an unexpected bonus. But he didn’t want to use him. He had just confirmed his worst thoughts of being totally and utter worthless. The buy had simply been a mistake, and that was all. Taven looked down and fought his tears and Nikal seemed to soften a bit at his broken expression. "Look," he said hesitatingly, "I’ll tell you how it is. I like women, I really do. I enjoy their company and I fall in love with them and one day I will surely marry one… But I like men too." Taven looked up, a bit of interest in his eyes. "Call me bisexual I guess," Nikal continued, "as a change I do appreciate the male physique. But I will not touch you Taven. And that is not why I bought you!" Taven froze. That was even worse, if he had at least said he never touched any males ever. "I will not because you really don’t want me to, you are just trying to get on my good side here. No matter if it has been a man or a woman, no matter if they were free or not. I have never taken anyone against his or her will and you will sure not coax me into doing that now. I will not take you to bed and then have you yell rape on me!" "I wouldn’t…" "Oh you would, I think I know you that well already." Taven got angry again. "Well what the fuck does it matter if I do. It’s your fucking right isn’t it? You can rape me as much as you want" Nikal nodded in agreement. "True enough. But I don’t want to; it doesn’t do anything for me. And with you… I could never trust you to be honest with what you want." The boy looked desperate. "I don’t know what I want. No one ever bothered to ask before." Nikal got that amiable look back and stepped closer to him laying a hand on his shoulder. Taven wanted to shake it off but didn’t. "I know." Pity again, he did shake Nikal’s hand off. "This all a bunch of crap. Everyone knows what that trader sells those boys for. You have no use for me here other than that. So I was just a mistake purchase ha? You …you didn’t see at first… how old I am and… Don’t you think I know how bad I look… how awful my body looks." Suddenly he grabbed a hold of the hem of the shirt he wore and pulled it over his head, throwing it angrily at Nikal’s feet. "Just look at what a mistake you did!" >>> * <<< Nikal looked all right. Stared, his expression a mix between shock and disgust. How the boy had survived such treatment was beyond him. What he saw was not proofs of discipline or even punishments. These were proofs of pure torture. The scars covered his chest, his upper arms, his lower arms, his belly, his shoulders… Everywhere the once velvety marble complexion had been marred with scars of all sizes and shapes. Nikal clasped his hand over his mouth and fought back a surge of nausea. His left nipple was missing. Simply wasn’t there, a hideous wrinkled scar in its place. The boy didn’t seem to be finished with his macabre display. He pulled his trousers down a bit as well and pulled his legs apart for Nikal to see the area of skin at his inner thighs. The skin was all bumpy like the skin of an orange. Burn marks. Cigarettes put out on the softest and most sensitive part of the body, put out over and over and over again… Nikal had yet to recover from that shock when the boy slowly turned and revealed his back to him. It was as hideously scarred as his front. He knew that, he’d seen as much a couple of days ago but then Taven had managed to stop him from pulling the robe further down and when he had mooned them he had not pulled his shirt up high enough to reveal this. At the small of his back, just above his ass was a big tattoo. It was sure not professionally done. The big letters were crudely carved and downright ugly, big and clumsy and black against his pale complexion. Obviously not put there for decorative reason but for sheer humiliation, the ugliness of it adding to it. Five letters clearly spelled out "Whore" and under the word an arrow pointing downwards between his ass cheeks. "I can’t read," he said softly, "but I know what it says… I’ve been told often enough." Nikal couldn’t remember ever having been more at a loss of words than just now. He was shocked to say the least, shocked and disgusted, enormously disgusted. Nikal took the shirt from where it lay on the ground and stepped up to the boy. Carefully he draped it over his shoulders. "Cover yourself up!" he said. His voice was not cold but still completely emotionless. Nikal turned to leave. He knew he fled it but he did it anyway.

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