Chapter 4 |
Medora let the boy be for several days. Mostly because his obvious soreness but also to let him gather himself a bit. The boy had been drawn back and quiet since he took him here but now it was even worse. He did not say a single word that Medora had not had to force out of him and he kept, as much away from him as it was humanly possible. Every order was obeyed as fast and as well as he could muster and he didn’t even look in his direction if he could avoid it. At nights he laid as far away as he could and he hugged the pelts fiercely around his body. He was probably even scared to sleep for fear of being touched because he looked tired and hollow eyed in the morning. Medora wasn’t forcing anything on him during those days. He let him keep to himself and didn’t touch him at all, trying not noticing him much at all. But four nights later he thought it was high time he made another go at it. This time he did struggle. Crying and protesting and begging to be spared at first. He even had to chase him around the tent a bit and he tried desperately to wriggle out of his grip when he did catch him and even tried to fight him. His entire humble demeanor from the last days was totally gone. When crying, begging and fidgeting didn’t help. He tried cursing and biting and kicking. Medora was patient at first but then he lost it and brought him to the floor with a single really hard blow. For a few seconds he was so mad that he actually reached for his sword to simply finish him off but he changed his mind at the last minute and grabbed a horsewhip instead. Seka had never been so thoroughly beaten his entire life before. In fact he had never been beaten at all before. It was not a pleasant experience. Medora hit him everywhere he could reach and hit hard. Had he used a regular whip he would have been badly cut and scarred. Now he was "only" going to be covered in welts and bruises all over. He had no idea how many blows he had received but it felt like hundreds and it totally wore him out. Soon he was too weak and hurt to scream anymore and too tired and in too much pain to even try to get away from the blows. He went limp and resigned and just waited for death. Though Medora’s anger subsided and since he went still and quiet he stopped hitting him. Seka felt he was about to die but he was satisfied anyway because surely he was to be spared from another rape now? And that was all that he cared about. This beating was really worth it if he would just be spared from that. This pain was nothing compared to that pain. This humiliation was nothing compared to that one and Medora’s anger was much preferable to his sex-connected kindness that took away all his pride. He suffered now, sure, but at least he would not have to spread his legs again. He would soon learn he was very wrong. Medora understood that the boy had knowingly provoked him into beating him so that it would distract him from having sex with him. That sly little bastard he thought. He was in pain now but satisfied thinking he had won and that he had got his wish. It could very well have been so. Medora was really not in the mood for sex after all this and it wouldn’t be very nice taking him now looking like this but he just could not let him win. While he was too weak to be able to protest and make trouble more than very little Medora brutally pulled and tore his clothes off his body. And as brutally he dragged him over to the bed, slapping him hard now and then to keep him from regaining any will to fight him again. Then he was being tied hard and unyieldingly at both wrists and ankles and he learned that it could indeed be made either the gentle way or the hard way. Last time had been the gentle version; he knew that now, as he now was able to compare. Medora did not say a word to him this time, didn’t try to advice him or console him. He didn’t kiss him, didn’t caress him. He went straight at it and never stopped once to let him adjust. His thrusts were hard and merciless and he pulled at his hair for better leverage. As he untied him a while later he couldn’t even remember half of it, he thought he must have passed out several times. As he lay on his back like a corpse too tired to protest anymore Medora groped at his backside and then held up the hand in front his eyes. It was covered in blood. Dark lumpy blood… He looked at it in horror; he was bleeding that much? Medora wasn’t satisfied showing it to him, he slapped that hand over his face grinding the blood in, then dragging it over his chest he wiped the rest of it off. As he lay there, in a dark sea of pain, his face covered in the blood of his torn rectum he felt, more than consciously thinking it, that he had hit rock bottom… >>> * <<< It took Seka over two weeks to recover somewhat from the beating and the rape. He was so badly hurt at first that Medora sent for the barber-surgeon who patched him up well without as much as raising an eyebrow at these strange wounds. Medora did keep tending to him and he wasn’t brutal anymore but he kept him chained now. For two whole weeks it stayed on both night and day. He wasn’t even released so that he could go to the bushes. No, Medora walked him out like a dog on a leach and watched him do whatever he had to do. He might as well learn, Medora thought, that privacy was a privilege hereafter not a right. He was really in the doghouse now he understood. He was rarely allowed to speak and Lord Medora didn’t let a day go by without telling him that he was very close to decide to let his men behead him, keeping up this talk until he burst into tears. One day he even dragged him, screaming and begging for mercy, towards the scaffold that still stood at the other side of the camp but changed his mind and let him come back with him. Seka never knew if he really meant to do it or if he just wanted to give him a really good scare. These were hellish weeks, a seemingly never-ending nightmare. But slowly Lord Medora seemed to restore him into favor and he was finally freed from the chain. One more week and everything seemed to be back to normal, whatever that was, and one night he wanted to use him again. Seka was not surprised, he had known that his "plan" had fallen through. He knew he had lost. He understood that he had not penetrated him that last time for pleasure but to show his dominance, to punish him, to show him how futile it was to try to fight against it. So he had of course understood that the order would come sooner or later, probably just waited for him to heal enough. Now he had and here was the order. For a few seconds he didn’t react to it. It seemed he had only two choices: To resist again or comply. Which was it going to be? He had thought now and then that he ought to use this respite that his injuries gave him to try to figure out what he should do when the order came but he had pushed it aside. Now Lord Medora gave the order and now he must decide and he must decide very quickly and whatever he decided he must stick to it. If he decided to fight it he would have to keep fighting until Medora killed him because win that fight he could not, dying was the only victory he could hope for. And if he decided to comply, well then he must always comply hereafter, he couldn’t comply one time and refuse the other and then go back with complying. No, this was it, he must decide what it would be and he must decide now. ‘Get undressed, go to the bed and wait for me.’ That had been Lord Medora’s exact words and he stood here now in front him and was supposed to give a sign that he had heard him. It was only seconds surely until he decided because Lord Medora seemed not impatient yet but for him it seemed the longest time, he did decide though. Medora had told him to get undressed and go to the bed to wait for him and it was not bedtime so he must know fully well what that order meant. It was sort of a test Medora decided. Would he defy him like last time…? Well then he would be finished. Medora would beat him again, tie him again and fuck the sense out of him again but then he would drag him still naked out to the scaffold and finish him off with his own hands because he was now tired of this behavior. He would not stand for it anymore. Maybe the boy sensed it? His reaction to the order was in any case very different from last time. For a few seconds he looked up and he met his eyes and there were sadness and a plea for mercy in them but then he lowered them respectfully and totally unexpectedly he went down on his knees and bowed deeply. Medora thought he would start to beg to be spared but surprisingly enough he didn’t. His kneeling seemed just to be a silent confirmation of the existing structure of power and submission between them. He rose again. "Yes Master," he said somber but without any hesitation, "anything you say…" He turned then and went to calmly shed every piece of clothing including the cloth between his legs and then he simply lay down on the bed on his belly, parting his legs, waiting. Medora didn’t even smile. So finally he had got the boy exactly where he wanted him and he was satisfied about that, everything would be so much easier now. Still he couldn’t really draw any pleasure from it. Breaking the boy had not been a pleasurable thing in itself. He felt even a bit sad for him but pushed it aside. He would be better off eventually. Now that he had learned that it is best to comply he could really start training him in the arts of the catamites and he would surely learn to like it well over time. He walked over to him where he lay waiting. He sat down and put a hand at his back. He startled violently and Medora understood that even though he was ready to comply he wasn’t less apprehensive, less afraid or less repulsed by the whole thing than before. Well, this time he would be really careful. This time they were in no hurry at all. This time he needed not to deflower him. This time he deserved to be treated gently and lovingly. This time he would penetrate him little by little pulling out at the least sign of pain and let him adjust forever if need be so that he would learn it could be done without any pain at all. He smiled and stroke his head. "Don’t worry! You keep on behaving this good and I promise you that this time will not be anything like the first two…" He went to fetch a jar of oil from a chest and then he took his own clothes off and got back at the bedside. Seka had not moved an inch in the meantime or said a word. Medora covered his fingers with the oil, this time he was going to massage and stretch him a bit with his fingers first… >>> * <<< Seka felt Lord Medora’s sticky oily fingers starting to grope at his backside and he winced, afraid, humiliated and apprehensive. But he knew he would not protest anymore. He had made the choice, didn’t quite know how. He had wanted to chose to fight… But he guessed his will to live was still stronger, even stronger than this. So he had chosen submission. Submission it was and submissive he would be. He had made a choice and he could do nothing else now than to stand by that choice, face its consequences and be true to it in every sense of the world. He had known from the start that he had had only two choices: Death or Slavery. Now he had also from the start chosen slavery because he did not want to die. Though he had really fooled himself into believing that he could chose a sort of fake slavery. A slavery that was only on the outside while he was still free on the inside. He would fake his submission and abide his time. He knew now that it wouldn’t work. As a slave this man would demand things of him where he could not fake it. This he could not fake. Either he let himself be subdued for real or he would die. So he gave up, he just gave up and not until then did he realize that he was now truly a slave in every sense of the word and he doubted he could ever go back to freedom after this even if it would be given him. There seemed no way back from this path… |
All text, images & graphics © Francesca Bathory 2002 - The end of time
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