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Chapter 16 |
Roth sighed. Nikal always got his ways, like the spoiled rich brat that he was. At this moment Roth almost wished he would able to dislike Nikal, however, he wasn’t able to, and so finally he had agreed to do what Nikal wanted. Roth sighed again, deeper this time, and raised his fist to rap at James Swift’s door.
Taven had classes, but instead of trying to read he kept stealing glances at his Master over the rim of the book. Nikal didn’t seem to be in a very bad mood today, not as bad a mood as he had been since that--- incident at the mall, anyway. Nikal was pacing the room, lecturing about the importance of trying harder, and not give up as soon as Taven had the tendency to do, but finally he seemed to notice that Taven wasn’t really with him. “What?” he demanded to know, a bit of annoyance in his voice. “You knocked out Swift!” Taven said, as if he hadn’t really understood this until now. It had been two days, but Nikal had been in such a terrible mood that Taven had not said a word about it until now, when his mouth finally did as it usually did --- spilled out his thoughts as words before he could stop it. “Uh… yes, I suppose. Please don’t remind me Taven, I’m not exactly proud of that.” “But he’s much, much bigger than you Master.” Taven said. Nikal scowled at first, but then he grinned “Oh come on, I’m not that small, am I? In any case, it’s not a question of size or strength Taven; it’s all technique… Besides I caught him unawares.” Nikal winced, “which isn’t exactly making me prouder.” “I’m proud Master!” Taven blurted out, “I think that was the best thing you’ve ever done Master, I mean I knew you were strong and all… you just flips me around like… Well, but that’s me. But Swift! I thought he’d kill you, and then you just… That was the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and…” Taven’s eyes grew big round and awed as he spoke, but he cut himself short at Nikal’s sudden angered look. “Taven, I can go to jail for this, don’t you understand that?” Nikal almost roared. Taven dropped the book and cowered on the chair. “I’m… I’m sorry,“ he said, ”I just meant that…” he silenced and looked down, not understanding why Nikal was so angry about this. He should be proud too, to have been able to floor that bull. Nikal went up to the desk Taven was sitting at and put both of his hands on it, leaning over it to look sternly at Taven. “It is nothing to be proud of,” he said, “nothing at all. I stooped to mindless brutality, let my anger take control of me, took advantage of a skill that is only meant for self defense… Violence is wrong Taven, plain wrong, do you get that? And what I did was wrong! And the fact that I--- enjoyed it at some--- primitive level doesn’t change that fact in the least!” Taven looked up then, and picked up the book, holding it to his chest as if to protect himself with it. “It--- it isn’t wrong Master, not if it’s a slave you’re violent to, is it? Or there’d be a law…” Nikal neither changed expression, nor stance for the longest time, staring at Taven who cringed on his chair at the angered look, but then Nikal turned away and walked over to the window to look out. Taven could see his reflection in the glass, and to his surprise, his master was grinning widely. “You know Taven,” Nikal said, “if I keep teaching you, who know what you will become, seeing as how I already can’t win an argument against you.”
Roth had to admit that seeing Swift’s expression as he opened the door was kind of worth the trouble, as was seeing that the face that held that surprised expression was all black and blue, swollen and puffy, and had a neat bandage taped across its nose. Roth couldn’t help smiling. “Nice seeing you again Mr. Swift,” He said, “aren’t you going to invite me in?” Swift needed a few seconds to gather his wits. “You! You’re that guy that bought the redhead. What the hell are you doing here? How’d you find me?” Roth shrugged. “I have a suggestion for you Swift, so, you’re going to let me in, or what?” “Why the hell would I do that? What do you want?” “I’ll explain everything,” Roth said, “but I would rather not do it out here in the stairs. I don’t think your neighbors should hear this.” Swift gave him a look that promised danger, but stepped aside to let Roth in. Roth walked ahead into the kitchen, and stopped at the middle of the floor looking around. Swift was no interior decorator that was for sure, the place looked like a dump. “What?” Swift said behind him, “you expect I’ll offer you coffee and biscuits? Just tell me what you want and then get the hell out of here.” “All right Mr. Swift, I will, it’s not like I want to stay in this dump any longer than I have to. I’m not here on my own behalf. You see, I didn’t buy Ta… that redhead, he doesn’t belong to me; he belongs to my boss. That day you saw us in the mall, I just took the kid out when on a job errand.” Swift kept staring at him with an angry look. “And that day you caught me following you… Well, you were right; I was following you, but, again, not on my own behalf, but for my boss. My boss is the one, who bought the redhead, and he gave me the assignment of trying to find out what kind of low life bastard, and no good son of a bitch would treat an innocent kid like that.” Swift’s eyes narrowed dangerously, as he seemed to think it over if it was any use in attacking Roth, big as the bodyguard was, and in his already injured state. He seemed to think it was not worth it--- so far. “What does your fucking boss want then?” he asked, his voice nasal in a silly kind of way, due to the bandage no doubt. “And who the fuck is the man anyway?” “A clan lord,” Roth said, “I’m his bodyguard.” Swift actually laughed. “Yeah, right! You want me to believe that a clan member, a clan lord, would buy a piece of trash like that, and then bother with sending his bodyguard to check up the past of a worthless slave?” Roth remained deathly serious. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Swift.” Swift sneered at him. “Yeah? I’d have to see that to believe it.” “You want to meet Lord Wren? Well, you’ll be glad to know that you already have. In fact, you had the pleasure of having that ugly face of yours smashed under Lord Wren’s heel just the other day.” Swift’s sneer vanished. “Him? You tell that Wren-guy,” he hissed, “that I’ll get him for that. I’m gonna fucking kill him for that, if it’s the last I’ll ever do, and…” “That would be the last you would ever do!” Roth interrupted, “you’re not stupid Swift, and you know it isn’t as easy as that. Let me tell you a few things, that you already know, I’m sure, but let’s spell it out, just for the sake of it. One, the clans are well protected; you know you don’t stand much of a chance getting near Lord Wren again if he doesn’t want you to. Two, you try something the law will be much harder on you for going after a clan member, than the law would ever be on Lord Wren for having you, say… shot as a trespasser. After all, the police didn’t make all that much fuss about him smashing your face in, did they? Three, even if you did get close to Lord Wren… well you have already seen that the man is lethal, average sized as he is. My boss can defend himself! Four, I too can defend myself, and you will have to go through me as well. Five, I have checked you up, and you have enemies. I know all about you and Lorentz; you don’t want to end up in prison with that guy I’m sure. Six, even the scum that saluted you betraying Lorentz, don’t trust you anymore, do they? How many friends have you got still left, Swift, hah? Seven, you think the police look through their fingers when it comes to your ‘affairs’? Yeah, they used to, but not anymore. From working as a bodyguard, and before that, as a private investigator for many years, I have plenty of contacts within the police, and I just happen to know that they are investigating your activities, right now! They want you behind bars, Swift, and they are just waiting for a reason to get to lock you up and throw away the key. And lastly, yes, my boss did buy the redhead, and he happens to like the kid, as well as having a very hard time forgetting and forgiving that you treated him that badly. He has something personally against you Swift, and that kick in the face he gave you should help convince you that he would not hesitate to use his contacts, his influence and his money, to nail you in any way that he can.” Roth exhaled after this long speech and gave Swift a stern look. “To be brief, Mr. Swift, you are in deep shit!” Swift burst out laughing again, but it had a very insecure ring to it this time. “All this… for that skinny whore?” Roth nodded. “All this for a skinny whore!” he repeated. Swift finally seemed to believe him. “But that’s… You’re fucking crazy. That asshole of a lord is fucking out of his mind.” Now Roth smiled. “Well, you know how eccentric the rich can be.” Swift was fuming, his eyes glowing; Roth wouldn’t have been surprised if smoke had come out of his nostrils, if there hadn’t been a bandage to keep it in, of course. Roth’s heart was pounding. Swift was not stupid, Roth knew Swift knew that he was right, but would Swift’s anger and frustration over this fact make him attack him? Roth pressed his arms closer to his body, so that he could feel the guns holstered in his armpits under his coat. He very rarely wore those, but going over here, it had seemed a suitable moment to equip himself with them. Roth wouldn’t be ashamed to admit that Swift scared him; not being scared of this guy would have been foolish. It only remained to see if Swift was smart enough to also be afraid of Nikal, and himself, and what they could do. “You still haven’t told me what the fuck you want,” Swift finally pressed out between teeth clenched in anger, “or rather, what your boss wants, because you’re just the little lap dog go-between here, right?” “Right!” Roth answered trying to keep his own anger down at those words, feeling them a bit too close to the truth. This was Nikal’s crazy idea, he had advised against it, but still here he was, running Nikal’s errands. This isn’t part of my job, he thought. But somewhere deep inside, against better knowledge, he must have agreed with Nikal, because Roth was no one’s lap dog, and still, here he was. He ignored Swift’s insult. “We have a suggestion for you, a very simple one. You do a very small thing for us, and we will leave you alone, I’ll even let you in on what the police are up to. All you have to do is to give us that kid you presently own, and never buy another.” Swift got the same expression again that he had had when he had opened the door. “Is this some kind of trick? Don’t tell me that all that your boss wants is another boy to fuck? Come on, what does he really want?” Roth shook his head. “I’m serious, that’s all that he wants. You find that strange? Yeah, I can imagine you do. But as I said, my boss disliked the way you treated the redhead enough to start a personal vendetta against you. Do you really find it that strange that he doesn’t want you to keep doing it to other kids? He wants that boy you have now, and you had better not buy another slave for the rest of your life. We will be keeping an eye on you, and if you do… well, then the deal is off, and Lord Wren will do anything in his power to destroy you. I will help him, be sure of that, and the police will happily join in, as would a number of people in the underworld as well, I’m sure.” Swift stared at him, and Roth couldn’t tell if he was going to try to kill him, or, well… kill him. But then he seemed to just give up, and tried to hide the fact with another contemptuous sneer. “Crazy son of a bitch…” he muttered under his breath, “all right! What the hell, if the price for keeping you crazy fucks off my back is that cheap… then by all means… be my guest…” Swift turned and stepped outside the kitchen door and into the hallway. “Get over here, you little shit!” Roth could hear him bellow, and seconds later Swift returned, holding the boy Roth had seen with him in the mall by a tight grip of his skinny upper arm. In fact, Roth might not have remembered the features of the boy’s face, but that look of terror in his eyes, he recognized right away. Swift tightened the grip and almost lifted the boy off the floor as he held him up to Roth. It was easy to see how much it hurt, the boy’s face was all contorted with pain, but he didn’t omit a single sound. “This is what you want? Hah? All this trouble, for this? You want to fuck him so badly; you could have just given me a twenty. But no… Well, take him then, take this worthless crap off my hands by all means, been thinking of throwing him out anyway. Here!” Swift violently tossed the boy toward him, and Roth managed to catch him before he hit the floor, and got him back on his feet, it didn’t escape him how the boy turned to ice in his hands.
Roth led the boy down the street to where he had parked his car. He steered him along with a hand on the boy’s shoulder, trying to keep the hold as lightly as he could. The boy had still not uttered a single word, and was following meekly, but not calmly, he trembled as if he was freezing. Roth felt uncomfortable, imagining why the kid shook like a leaf in a storm. Imagining, but refusing to really think about what the kid might think he was about to do to him. Roth felt damn uneasy over the fact that the poor kid was obviously ever as much terrified of him, as he was of Swift. He had to talk to the kid a little, Roth thought as they reached the car, just talk to him a little, so that he knew he wasn’t in any danger. Roth halted by the car and turned the boy to him, trying to smile in as friendly and calming a manner as he knew how. The boy was still shaking, and Roth thought that his size only probably scared the boy. “Look, kid… I’m not going to do anything to hurt you, or… Well, I’m not going to hurt you. Do you understand what was decided on back there? No? Swift gave you to me, which means he doesn’t own you anymore, do you understand that? I know Swift has been--- treating you badly, but you don’t have to be scared of him anymore now.” The boy did not look up at this piece of information concerning his future, and he didn’t stop shaking. Roth sighed, and wondered if the boy was slow in some way. Who knew what only a few hard whacks to the head could do to a kid? Roth tried something else “What’s your name?” he asked. The kid didn’t raise his head, but finally he spoke; only his answer was so soft that Roth had to lean down a little to hear it. “I don’t know, Sir.” “You don’t know?” “Master says, Sir… I’ll get a name--- when I deserve it… Sir.” Roth sighed. “I see. But before you came to Swift, did you have a name then?” “Master says I can’t use that… Sir.” Roth sighed even deeper, and got down on one knee before the boy and gently pulled him closer. “Look boy, I know this might be hard to understand, but Swift is not your master anymore, so forget what he says. If you remember that name I think it would be nice to know it. Do you?” The boy nodded. “Yes. Sir,” he whispered staring at his toes. Roth kept patient. “So what it is? He asked, smiling. “Silas, Sir.” The boy answered. Roth smiled. “Silas it is. That’s a nice name. So, we’ll go home to my place for a while then Silas, what do you say?” Roth cringed at the whole thing. Taven was much easier in a way, he realized. His rebellious way of handling what had happened to him gave a person something to deal with, even if it was a handful. Silas utterly cowed nature was harder to cope with, Roth thought, and he realized that if he had showed the slightest bit of annoyance here at having to pull the words out of the boy just to get to know his name, Silas would probably have been scared to death. He was glad that he was soon to hand over the responsibility to Nikal.
Taven had almost fallen asleep when the door opened. He was surprised to see his master standing there, a dark shadow against the light from the hallway behind his back. He squinted at the shape, confused, Nikal usually went to bed early, and Taven couldn’t think of a reason why he would come down here this late--- unless he had done something. He pulled himself up on his elbows and got his bangs out of his eyes, waiting for his master to say something. After what seemed an eternity, Nikal did. “For goodness sake Taven, what is it this time?” Taven didn’t understand, and didn’t answer. Nikal sighed. “Why do I get the feeling that you are punishing me in some way? You are avoiding me again; you are not coming to me. Why?” Taven looked even more confused. He had been thinking a lot since Nikal had been so angry in the classroom earlier in the day. Oh, he had been laughing and joking later as if he hadn’t been that angry with him after all, but Taven didn’t feel reassured. Nikal had been in a bad mood ever since knocking Swift out at the mall, and Taven thought he knew why now. It was because of him. Nikal had not liked the way he had acted, he had said so, that he had regretted kicking Swift, and because of whom had he done it? Yes, because of him. And Nikal had to spend several hours in a holding cell, like a common criminal, the police had cuffed him and all, and who was to blame for that? Yes, he was. Nikal had yelled at him, that he could go to jail because of this, and that too would be his fault. What a way to show his gratitude after all the things that his master had done for him. Taven could not see why Nikal would be upset about that he didn’t come to sleep upstairs tonight. Nikal didn’t wait for an answer; he went inside the room, silently closing the door behind him, making the room dark again. Taven felt the mattress shift as his master sat down at the bedside. He couldn’t see him anymore with the door closed, but his voice came out of the darkness, a tired voice. “Sometimes I just wish I knew what I am doing wrong, you know? Sometimes I wish I knew what I’m doing… period!” His master silenced again as if he waited for an answer, but Taven still didn’t know what to say. Nikal sighed deeper than ever, and patted Taven on the thigh through the covers. “Well,” he said, “all right then…” Taven felt the mattress shift again, a short flash of light from the hallway, the sound of the door closing and he was alone. He turned and tried to go to sleep again, wanting to cry for some reason that he couldn’t figure out, but refusing to succumb to the feeling.
Roth had not got many words out of the kid during the evening. When they had got inside Roth’s place, Silas had been standing, head bowed, in the hallway until Roth had specifically told him where to go. Roth had directed him to a kitchen chair, and had asked him if he was hungry. The boy’s eyes had grown to about twice the size, and he had pressed out the smallest ‘Yes, Sir’, looking like the whole concept of eating was a rare occurrence in his life. Roth could believe it; the kid was scrawny as a rake. Roth had made him a sandwich, and the kid had eaten so slowly it had seemed he had wanted it to last forever, picking up the smallest crumb to lick off his fingers. The only sound the kid had uttered by his own volition had been a choked shriek as Missy had passed under the table, rubbing against his legs. The same fear of animals, Roth had thought, and he wondered if this kid also had spent hours tied up in a rat-infested hole under the house… Roth shuddered. Roth couldn’t get rid of that uneasy feeling; he didn’t know what to do with the kid, or what to say to him. He looked like he would need a bath too, he thought, but forcing that kid into a bathtub was something he would rather let Nikal do. “Well,” Roth said, smiling, “I guess it’s bedtime. Why don’t you go in to the living room, and I’ll go and get some sheets for the couch.” The boy obediently rose from the chair, awkwardly bowing to him, not looking at him, as he hadn’t all night, and walked out into the living room as he had been ordered. Roth shook his head; the boy’s complacency was spooky. He’d never thought he would actually miss Taven’s stubborn disobedience, and cheeky manners. It was when he had fetched the sheets and pillows for the boy to sleep on, and walked into the living room that he understood how the boy interpreted the “order” ‘it’s bedtime!’
Something pulled him gently out of his sleep, hands, hands on his naked skin, but not hard hands, gentle hands, so very gentle and light hands, soft and comforting, touching his cheek, his forehead, his shoulder… A voice in his ear, “Taven? Taven? Are you sleeping?” Such a soft voice, like the hands… Taven wearily opened his eyes, trying to make sense of this weird dream, trying to see in the darkness… It wasn’t a dream, he still couldn’t see right, but he became more and more aware of an actual presence in his bed. “Master?” “Yes, it’s just me,” came the whispered answer, “nothing to worry about; it’s just me, just me…” Nikal lifted the covers, and crept down beside him. Taven’s bed was considerably smaller than his master’s bed, and Nikal got close, wiggling his arm under his shoulders, and pulled him near. “You go to sleep again,” he whispered, “it’s all right… I just thought, since you won’t come to me, I’d go to you. You go to sleep again… it’s all right…” The voice was exchanged by a warm and even breath on his cheek, and Taven stopped trying to make sense of anything, scooted even closer to the warm body, and fell asleep again.
Roth actually dropped the pillow. Silas was standing at the middle of the floor, not a thread on his body. The few pieces of raggedy clothes he had been wearing were a neatly folded pile at his feet. His hair was down, trailing over his narrow shoulders. His face was completely blank, but his body spoke plenty, it offered itself with an all too clear voice, ‘here is my flesh for you, use it at your will’. But that was a child’s body that had been taught to offer itself… Roth was too shocked to react. Silas must have noticed his lack of action. How he stood there, at his offer, and neither made use of it, nor rejected it. He must have thought he was doing something wrong. In front of Roth’s shocked stare Silas fell to his knees, bowing deeply. Silas was still silent, but his arched back delivered its plea in shivers and shudders. ‘I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t know what. See how willing I am to submit, please don’t hurt me.’ Roth’s head was spinning. “Oh God…” he blurted out, ”Oh, my fucking God!” Silas cowered into a shivering nothing at that exclamation, his body screaming now, ‘I did wrong, I did something wrong, and I will be punished.’ Roth couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped the sheets as well, and rushed out. He took refuge in the bathroom, locking the door, sinking down to sit on the toilet seat. It wasn’t like he didn’t know; he told himself inside his head, he knew what some people did. He knew what had been done to Taven; he knew what Swift had done to this kid. He knew. But no matter how angry and disgusted that knowledge had made him before, he had never really known it with more than his intellect, he thought. But seeing Silas naked body in there, acting the way he did, because he thought that Roth would fuck him… Roth tore of some toilet paper and dabbed at his forehead with it. Seeing Silas just now, seeing the boy like that, had gone straight to his heart, and in a flash he had been able to share every bit of Nikal’s anger and frustration, only he wasn’t as brave as Nikal, he realized. Nikal didn’t shy away from what Taven had been put through, or the consequences, while he had run at the first sight of it. “I’m not used to kids!” he said. “I am so not used to this!” But he knew he had to pull himself together, and with a deep breath he walked back into the living room. Silas was still as he had left him, naked and cowering on the floor. Roth took a sheet and covered Silas with it, taking him by the shoulders, making him sit up. “Look, boy,” he tried, “I was never going to… I never meant to… That is over, and you don’t have to do that anymore. It’s not you. You didn’t do anything wrong, nothing at all. Do you understand that? I’m not angry, or displeased, or anything, you hear? I just meant for you to go and get some sleep on the couch. That was all that I meant, just for you to get some sleep, I thought you must be tired, and… Well, you can sleep here, and you don’t have to be afraid, I won’t touch you… I’ll sleep in there, in another room…” Roth kept mumbling similar things while he steered the boy toward the couch and made him lie down. He wasn’t sure how much Silas understood, but he went where he was taken, and stayed as he was put, without a word, or a movement of hesitation or protest. Roth took long to fall asleep. First thing in the morning he would take Silas to Nikal that was for sure, he couldn’t handle this, just couldn’t.
So, it wasn’t a dream, Taven thought, as he woke up next to his still sleeping Master. Nikal really had sneaked down here in the middle of the night, and climbed into his bed. He really did want to sleep with him. By now Taven had woken up with Nikal many times, but this time felt vaguely different, maybe it was because they woke up in his room? That sure was strange enough. Taven almost always woke up before Nikal did, and it was a moment he had learned to love, while he still feared it. He liked to look at his master while he slept, he seemed so different when he slept; he seemed much younger, not so authoritarian, but he always feared what would be in Nikal’s eyes when he woke up. Taven thought that even if he would be allowed to stay with Nikal until he grew old and died, he would still always fear that when his master woke up, there would be a look in his eyes of disgust and hate. He always held his breath, his heart pounding, as he watched Nikal’s eyelids starts to flutter, and he knew he was about to wake up, and relief washed over him like a warm wave when Nikal did open his eyes and looked at him… There was always a smile in that look. This morning was not different in that aspect. Nikal turned on his back and stretched, grimacing, “Jesus,” he let out together with a yawn, “I think I will have to get you a new bed, I had no idea it was this hard. Ow, my back!” Taven grinned. “Ain’t nothing wrong with it Master,” he said, “you just old.” Nikal gave him a strict look. “Watch your mouth!” he said, but there was amusement in his whole countenance. He looked out the window, yawned again, and scratched. “The whole house is probably up by now, I think I will borrow your bathroom this morning, and then sneak back up through the garden… don’t feel like talking to anyone.” He ruffled Taven’s hair, smiling, as he went out the bed, and shed his pajama pants outside the bathroom door before slipping inside, leaving the door half open. Taven could not get over how strange it felt that his master had shared his bed during the night, and now stepped into his bathroom as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Taven could hear the running water, and a low whistled tune from his master, then a splash that told him that Nikal had stepped into the bathtub. Taven felt embarrassed, thinking that his bathtub was probably, kind of--- filthy. It had been a long time ago since the maids of the house had cleaned up his room for him. He was supposed to do that by himself, and he wasn’t overly good at it. “Taven,” came his master’s voice over the sound of the water, “come in here!” Taven obeyed, slowly peeking into his bathroom before stepping inside, feeling unusually shy. Nikal did normally not let him serve him in the bathroom. His master obviously preferred privacy in the bath. Taven had only showered together with his master once – that horrifying morning when he had wet himself in Nikal’s bed during his sleep, and that time, the last thing on his mind had been that he was naked with his master in the shower, that was for sure. He halted inside the door, very much thinking about his master naked in the tub now. Nikal was sitting propped up against the short-side of the tub, water up to his chest; he grinned at Taven while he lathered up a sponge with a yellow soap. “Scrub my back, will you?” he said holding the sponge out to Taven, turning away from him and leaning forward. Taven obeyed that too, putting the sponge to Nikal’s back making small circling movements. “Use the rough side,” Nikal instructed, “and rub harder. Oh, yes, that feels great.” Taven put some power behind it and scrubbed Nikal’s back all red, leaning over his master to get more leverage, his braid slipped over his shoulder and down into the water. “Whoops,” Nikal grinned, picking the braid up, “got it all wet now…” Nikal pulled on it, making Taven lean down even more, until suddenly his master turned his face up to his, and kissed him, keeping him close by holding on to the braid. It wasn’t really necessary; Taven dropped the sponge, took a hold of the ledge of the tub for balance, and answered the kiss hungrily. Nikal finally broke the kiss, but was still touching at his cheek with his lips, whispering to him. “Your hair is all wet… might as well go into the tub with me…” Taven was hardly aware of how, but suddenly he was naked too, and was sitting in the warm water, between his master’s legs, leaning his back on his chest, Nikal’s chin resting on his shoulder, his arms encircling him. The water was hot, it got steamy, Taven felt a bit drowsy still from recently waking up, Nikal’s hands felt strange on his body under the water, but strange in a nice way, it seemed like his scars were not as sensitive in the hot water. Maybe it was the humid warmth, Taven didn’t know, but he felt strangely relaxed. Maybe it was being in his own room that made him feel unusually safe. Maybe it was how little of a master, of a Lord, Nikal acted right now, coming here, to him, bathing in his bathtub, that made Taven feel strangely comfortable in his hands. Not so nervous, not really caring, right now, if his master in fact wanted to use him or not, that maybe, maybe Nikal enjoyed them just sitting here together as well, and that maybe he wasn’t worthless for not being usable. He was so relaxed in fact, that it took him a while to realize the subtle changes in his master, how is breathing got heavier, how his cock grew against his backside… and by then he had accepted the changes in a way that he couldn’t remember ever having done before. Taven slowly rubbed his backside against his master’s crotch, leaning back with a sigh, craning his neck to seek Nikal’s lips again. Nikal sucked on Taven’s lips as his hands slowly reached for his cock, caressing it ever so softly, Taven felt dizzy as he slowly hardened as well. He knew what would happen now, they would do it, his master would do it to him, and this time he thought his body really wanted it… maybe even for the right reason? He wasn’t clear on that, he could hardly think at all anymore. He only knew that he wasn’t afraid, really wasn’t, and in this moment it felt very strange to him that this had not happened before, it felt so natural that it should. Nikal nibbled at his ear and neck, increasing the fondling of Taven’s cock. “I promised…” he breathed softly, “I promised myself I wouldn’t… Don’t want to hurt you Taven… I’ll stop if it hurts, I promise…” Taven clawed at Nikal’s hair to get him to kiss him again just so that he would stop talking, he couldn’t stand hearing such talk, right now. Carefully, not to slip, he raised his hips, and opened himself up as much as he could in the narrow tub and his master could not resist the invitation; he slid inside of him… And the sensation of being so close to Nikal, of being the source of his pleasure, of being used for what he should be used for, but by someone who cared… it was all so overwhelming to Taven, that he totally forgot to even be nervous, all tenseness was gone, all doubt that his master cared about him--- gone, everything was so good in this moment, and there was no pain… no pain, and no humiliation, and no fear… He felt dizzy, and as if he couldn’t breathe as Nikal moved under him, slow thrusts rocking him, and he didn’t know if it was because of the thick air, or the fact that he was being fucked for the first time in months and months, or that he felt truly aroused for the first time in his life! Thoughts were spinning out of control inside his giddy head, but still it was like he suddenly understood so many things that his master had told him. And he felt like he had never had sex before, he felt like he had never been in contact with his body before. Taven came long before his master did, overwhelmed by it all, and totally lacking control. Nickel pulled out of him then and finished by his own hand, while holding Taven close. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked. Taven shook his head, still too overwhelmed to be able to say a word. But as he slowly floated back into the real world, doubts returned, what did this mean to his master? Nothing more than that he could finally fuck his slave, he was sure. How could he ever explain to Nikal how much this had meant to him? Should he even try? Having had something to really mean something to him was a new feeling as well, he found it a horrible one. Not much use in having shared something with someone that meant so much to you, if it wasn’t mutual, and Taven could simply not believe that this had been more than a nice, but an ordinary moment for his master. It felt awful to have felt so much, and then remember that you were only a way for someone to relieve his morning stiffy on. And Taven knew now that that was the way he had felt his whole life. But only when he got to experience the smallest taste of what it could be like to actually be--- loved, did he have something to compare the true misery of his whole life with. The grief of sixteen horrible totally wasted years of, at best, half a life, washed over him in as overwhelming strength as the passion he just experienced had done, and he started to weep.
Nikal was both shocked and devastated at Taven’s unexpected and strong reaction, feeling like he wanted to kick himself. He couldn’t believe anything else than that he had caused the boy irreparable damage by succumbing to the temptation of using him. What had he been thinking? Fucking a kid that has been nothing but raped most of his life. Nikal tried to keep calm, getting out of the tub, making Taven stand on the tiled floor while he dried him off with a big towel. Taven tried his best to stop crying, Nikal could see that, but he didn’t try to stop him. He listened to Taven’s weeping as a punishment for himself, every sob a reminder of what he had done. How could he? How could he have been so selfish? He felt worse than when he had tricked Taven into accepting the bit, which he still used on him from time to time. Nikal steered the still weeping Taven back to his bed, and had him lie down, sitting down at the bedside, stroking his hair as he cried, at least Taven wasn’t shying away from him. As Taven calmed down, Nikal couldn’t keep quiet. “Taven I… I’m really sorry! I really didn’t want to hurt you… I didn’t mean to.” Taven stopped sniveling and turned to look at his master, surprise written all over his face. “But… No… no, you didn’t… it isn’t that… That ain’t why I’m crying like a damn baby!” he said, seeming angry with himself all of a sudden for breaking down like that. Nikal didn’t understand a thing, and couldn’t think of anything to say, and was even more surprised as Taven actually gave him a small smile through the tears. “That was sure not hurting anywhere,” Taven said, “that was… was… I just didn’t know; you know that it could be that damn good, and…that it could just be… WOW, you know? Only… only I just got to thinking, you know… how everything before just been shit… really, really shit. Never knew just how much shit… until, you know, you get something better… to compare with. I was just silly! Like crying for… like, for… a… a wasted life… Wasn’t anything you did Master” he added, looking serious. “Are you sure?” Nikal asked, “you are not lying to me here, are you? I will not be angry at you if you didn’t like it, or if I hurt you in anyway, not just physically, but if you got hurt, do you understand? You can tell me!” Taven shook his head stubbornly. “Told you it was good. Don’t know if you liked it though…” Nikal smiled. “I did, you don’t have to doubt that. Taven, that was very special to me, it really was. Don’t you realize how special? The way you are, the problems you have, the way you have been treated… To have you trust me enough to actually let me close the way you did just now, that was a fantastic feeling. I had almost given up hope on that I would ever get any closer to you.” Taven stared. “Oh… never thought about it like that before,” he said. But suddenly, as if struck by a horrible thought, Taven bolted right up in bed, and threw his arms up in something akin to total despair, starting to curse hotly. “Damn, Master we forgot, fucking shit! Damn, damn, damn…” “What?” Nikal said, “what?” Taven almost cried again. “You didn’t use a condom, you fucked me barebacked, you gonna get all the shit I have, you gonna get it all! Fucking shit! Damn… you gonna hate me when you get those bugs too, and… fuck!” Nikal felt a chill up his back, Taven was right. How could he have forgotten? But it had just been a spur of the moment thing, and he had not planned for this to happen. His feelings and his body had simply taken over. Nikal grabbed a hold of Taven’s shoulders. “Calm down Taven and stop swearing or I will get the bit for you! It’ll be all right. I wasn’t inside you for very long, I’m sure I’m all right, and you have been taken your medicines regularly, most of it is surely gone. I’ll go and get some tests done as soon as possible to be sure, and the next time… Well, the next time I won’t forget. Don’t worry, it isn’t your fault.” Taven went quiet and looked at him expectantly. “There’ll be a--- next time?” Nikal smiled widely, pulling Taven close. “Of course there will. As long as we both enjoy it there will surely be thousands!” Taven grinned in reply, and hugged him back.
Hours later, his master had sent one of the slaves of the house to find Taven in the Garden and tell him that Nikal wanted him; he wanted to show him something. And Taven had been in such a good mood, just so happy, that it hadn’t even bothered him the way it usually did that the other slave looked down his nose at him while he delivered the message, and he had been half running to get there quicker. What could it be that his master wanted to show him? He had no idea, but a day such as this, a day when his master had fucked… no, made love to him (finally he thought he knew the difference) in the bathtub of his simple room, nothing bad could happen. Taven burst into the room flushed from running, but stopped dead in his track at the sight that met him. His master was there, smiling. Roth was there too, but they had someone with them, and Taven stared in disbelief at the newcomer. A boy. A slave. A young slave boy, such as himself. A long dark braid hanging over the boy’s skinny shoulder. Someone like him, yes, only younger… prettier… better-behaved it seemed. The boy stood absolutely still at Nikal’s side, hands clasped modestly in front of him, eyes downcast… Taven’s mind reeled, as Nikal leaned over the other boy, smiled, and put his hands on the his shoulders. His master lead the boy up to him, put him right in front of him, and the boy looked up at him, and he had deep dark eyes in a small girly face. Taven felt nauseated. “Taven,” he heard his master’s voice as from a distance, “this is Silas. He will stay with us now.”
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