Chapter 20


Medora had been standing in the door for several minutes watching his slave stand by the window staring unseeingly out of it. Seka was no less beautiful than he had always been. He was still cat like lean and deliciously small. He must have stopped growing years ago and there was nothing indicating anymore that he would ever be bigger than that. Skin still like first snow. The hair a shiny veil along his back. Where he stood half turned away it covered up that tiny delicious ass of his completely and Medora willed him to flip it out of the way a bit.

He knew Seka did his best to look good in a way that he had never bothered to before, he bathed every day, he brushed that hair until it shone with blue high lights, he wore all that jewelry although Medora knew he hated the trinkets. There was a slight rustle from his ankles now as he slowly shifted feet and his hip shot out in an appealing angle.

Yes, it was almost sad to watch how hard he tried to please and wasn’t it exactly the kind of slave he had wanted? Still there was no life in his eyes at all anymore. Medora thought that that was the only thing turned ugly on that slave recently, his eyes. They were just… dull. Medora felt a pang of guilt. In fact, he had felt guilt many times since he had brought Seka to his rooms instead of the old slave that died and put him under such ridiculously strict restrictions. But the guilt had only strengthened his decision to be harder on him. The guilt in itself was a proof of that his wife was right, wasn’t it? Well, it wouldn’t go away so he supposed he had avoided him lately, spending as much time as possible away from his rooms so he didn’t have to see those eyes grow duller by the minute.

It didn’t seem like Seka was watching anything through the window, he stood there as if it was as good a place to stand as any other place in here and he was absentmindedly scratching at his crotch.

"Does it bother you?" Medora suddenly asked. He hadn’t talked with him in months and he didn’t know why he did now. Maybe he was just so completely fed up by having a lifeless doll around.

The slave jumped a foot in the air at the unexpected voice and he fell to his knees without even turning towards him. As he stepped up to him he bowed even deeper. Medora frowned. Seka had started that habit all on his own accord. In fact he rarely raised above his knees in his presence anymore. What? Did he think he would be able to appease him by literally crawling at his feet as a beaten dog? Seemed like it. Medora was fed up with that too. He leaned over him to grab at his arm and jerk him to his feet.

"Does it bother you?" He repeated, irritated, and shook the slave to make him look up. He didn’t even look scared, he looked as dull as ever and as if he didn’t understand that someone was talking to him. Medora felt like slapping him but forced himself to be patient.

"I want you to answer Seka," he said softly, "does it chafe or hurt? I’ll take you back to have the wires re-sewn. Or is it that it frustrates you? You shouldn’t touch it then, it’ll only make it worse."

Seka still looked as if he didn’t understand the words spoken to him. But then he opened his mouth and seemed to be searching for the very ability of speaking before the words finally came out, somewhat forced, somewhat hoarse as if his throat and tongue had gone rusty from neglect.

"No Master, it doesn’t bother me. I feel… nothing…"

Medora let go of his arm and Seka sank to his knees again. That might very well have been one of the truest answers he had ever got out of that slave and he had a feeling it covered way more than only the silver wires sewing his foreskin tight.

Medora grabbed his coat from a chair; he had come only to get it. It was cold outside, the snow almost knee high in the garden and sparkly white. Out on the streets it was packed under the feet of the city dwellers and soiled into a gray slosh but he longed for the dreary streets now and had no wish to stay in here any longer than necessary. His rooms were about as cheerful as a mausoleum these days and if he wanted misery he would have stayed in the army. Fuck Erennis’s opinions, he thought. He damn well wanted some life back into that sorely depressing creature still kneeling by the window.

>>> * <<<

Seka looked at the piece of clothing his master held up to him without really understanding. He took care of his master’s clothes now and if he was given a piece of clothing it was because he was going to take care of it in some way. Only this couldn’t possibly belong to Lord Medora, it was way too small for him to wear.

"Try it on!" Medora said and Seka didn’t move a muscle.

"I ordered you to stop talking not stop thinking, can’t you understand human words anymore? I bought this coat for you and now I want you to try it on."

Seka didn’t bother to try and understand the strangeness of that. He hadn’t worn clothes in months and now suddenly his master wanted him to put this on? Well, it wasn’t his business. He did put it on. It felt weird. Like his skin could almost not bear to be touched even by the smooth silk of the lining of this coat but he guessed one was really supposed to wear something underneath a thing like this.

The hem of the coat almost reached his ankles and Medora had him button it all the way up and then shoved him in front a mirror. Seka’s eyes widened. This coat must be worth a fortune. It was as black as his hair and made of the finest and softest velvet. It was somewhat tight over the chest and around his waist but then flared out almost like a skirt making him look quite feminine. It had a high neck and pearls for buttons and an intricate pattern embroidered with thin copper and silver thread at the front and around the hem and the sleeves. He had never seen anything like it.

Medora spread his hair out over his shoulders and looked at him in the mirror over his head. "I’ll say… quite stunning. Saw it at the market and just had to buy it even though it totally emptied my pouch, believe me it was expensive. But it was worth it, never seen anything like it. The man who sold it said he didn’t know where it was from either. Do they wear such things in your land? No? It’s like it was made for you…"

Seka couldn’t decide what amazed him more, that he had been given this exotic coat or that his master was actually talking to him.

Medora wasn’t finished, he reached around him and unbuttoned the coat again, baring his shoulders slowly and letting it fall to the floor. Seka viewed his naked body in the mirror with detachment as his master ran his hands lightly down his arms. Medora was watching him intently in the mirror but he closed his eyes and leaned back with a barely audible sigh, he couldn’t help it. He shouldn’t be so pathetically grateful for being spoken to, for this simple touch. He knew that, on some level. On another level he didn’t give a fuck… he was being touched… noticed… it was worth more to him than a thousand velvet coats.

The touch suddenly ceased and Seka looked up, worried, to meet his master’s surprised look in the mirror.

"What’s this?" Medora asked sounding strict enough for Seka to start to shiver, especially since he didn’t understand what he meant.

>>> * <<<

Medora felt at the slave’s arms again, they were smooth as silk. He dropped his gaze from the mirror and leaned over Seka’s shoulder to look further down. His legs, they were paler than ever and smoother than his wife’s legs was. Medora put a hand to his groin making the slave gasp and tense up, not a single hair, every jet black curl simply gone leaving his crotch looking astonishingly… strange. Medora raised an eyebrow, how could he not have noticed this before? He supposed he had not really looked at him lately. And this slave had always been quite hairless. At least considering he was a man. Didn’t have any hair to his chest at all and naturally smooth thighs. That was one of the things he liked about him and the dark but fine hair that did grow on his lower arms and his calves, that little patch of hair under his navel, had not bothered him at all. He knew young girls hairier than that.

But this…he rubbed his hand over his sex, reached down to feel at his legs. There wasn’t even stubble, he had apparently not scraped it off; he must have plucked it out. He must have spent hours every day plucking it all out.

"What in the world have you been doing," he asked, "and why?"

The slave opened his mouth but said nothing, only trembled in his arms. Seemed he had no answer, maybe he didn’t know? Medora thought about the market he had just left, the bird-sellers… They caught wild birds in the woods and put them in small cages to sell as pets. But if you bought one it always ended the same way. No matter how you fed them right they started to pluck all their feathers out and withered away and died…

"It’s all right," he said, "even feels kind of nice. But you listen to me now; you don’t touch the hair on your head. You start plucking that out and I’ll have your hands chained at your back… indefinitely, understand?"

>>> * <<<

Seka didn’t know why but his master suddenly eased up on the restrictions considerably. He told him he could talk again but that he still didn’t want him to babble unimportant things, as if he had ever dared to do that. He was still not allowed to leave these rooms but his master told him that he was soon going to take him to The Quarters again.

And when the order finally came to dress up in that velvet coat and find some matching jewelry for it because he was to accompany him to The Quarters that same night he was so excited he got a stomach ache. He couldn’t believe it. Maybe things would even change back to as they were before? Did he dare hope for something like that? Oh he hoped, no matter how he told him self it was better not to, he hoped so much. He could stand it, he thought, living cooped up in here if he only was being noticed a little and could go out with his master only a few times now and then… he could stand it, it was being considered non-existent that he couldn’t stand.

>>> * <<<

Azrel was going to come as well. Seka shyly peeked at him from under his hanging hair as his master met his son at the gate. It felt strange seeing Azrel now after all these months but he ignored him totally as they started walking over to the brothels.

It was like stepping into a living dream entering The Quarters. All the impressions threatened to overcome him and he felt dizzy at the voices, the music, all the people moving about… He felt like he had been sleeping for a long time and was still being on his way to wake up. A few whores walking past them, both girls and boys, smiled and waved at him when they recognized him, but he was still too confused by how strange it felt being out of the house only that he couldn’t even gather enough to wave back. He hoped they wouldn’t think he was being stuck up. Tatsu had once told him many people thought he was being stuck up. Walking around with his nose in the air. It had shocked him to hear that. That was as far away from the truth as one could get he had thought.

Tatsu, yes. He startled himself by thinking about him. He had avoided thinking about him but it was harder to in here. He looked about him carefully as he followed behind Lord Medora and his son. Something inside him screamed its want to see his friend, another part of him prayed they wouldn’t run in to him. They could not spend time together. It was impossible, not even as friends only, like they had before. Medora would not let him move about freely in here anymore; he had made that very clear to him. So seeing Tatsu and not being able to talk to him would only hurt.

They neared the staircase lading up to Medora’s private room in the attic and ran into a group of men who were apparently friends of his master because Medora halted to chat with them. Azrel looked bored soon enough and told his father he was going to go up to the room and wait and left at his father’s nod.

Seka wasn’t listening to what the men were saying. Free men’s talking, whatever it was about, he had learned to ignore long ago. He didn’t pretend not to hear it, he really didn’t listen, not even if the talk concerned him. They made remarks on his looks, called him an animal, laughed about what they would like to do to him… he didn’t hear it anymore. If he recognized anything said as an order it somehow got through to him but the rest was an incoherent mumble in his ear.

Such an order was given. Medora told him to stay put at the foot of the stairs and not move an inch until he would get back in just a few minutes and then he walked off with the men. Seka had no idea what brought that about but he did not intend to disobey; he remained standing in the exact same spot.

"Seka?"

The soft voice made him turn. Tatsu? Seka was like frozen. It was Tatsu all right. He stood there, only a few yards away, dressed in about the same filthy rags that he had had on when he had last seen him. His naked feet still immensely dirty, a blackening bruise at his scarred cheek. Seka blinked, it was like no time at all had passed. That couldn’t be the same bruise though, Tatsu’s master, he was a mean bastard, he beat him all the time.

Tatsu stared at him. "It’s really you, they said it was you but… I thought you were never coming back… and… and just look at you…"

Tatsu’s surprise started to wear off and he lit up in the widest smile and started towards him looking like he was about to hug him.

Seka backed away in true fear and raised his hands in front him. "No! Tatsu no! Go away!" he was too scared right now to even register the hurtful expression of his friend, "I said go away!" he snarled as Tatsu was just standing there looking bewildered.

"I… Oh… all right, if that’s what you want… I’m sorry, I just wanted to… It was such a long time since I saw you and…"

But he didn’t leave; he just kept standing there, his lower lip quivering. Seka looked nervously over his shoulder expecting his master to come back any second now. Why must Tatsu be so stupid?

"If… if you… if you don’t care anymore just say so… but please don’t dismiss me like that… not like that." Seemed like Tatsu couldn’t hold back anymore, tears formed at the corner of his eyes and his voice was shaky. "Please don’t… I’ve been missing you so much… what did I do?"

Seka couldn’t stand it anymore. "You haven’t done anything. It’s not that… I’ve missed you too… it’s not that. God, have you any idea how it’s been? He’s worse than ever… I can’t… He only went away for moment; he’ll be back any minute. If he sees you… if he sees me talking to anyone, he’ll… he’ll… You know I care for you Tatsu but please go now."

"I will but let me touch you first. Only touch you a little, please? I’ll leave right away if you only let me…"

Seka could have smacked him but he didn’t, he didn’t try to talk any sense into the stubborn idiot either. Looking back down the corridor again he quickly grabbed at Tatsu and pulled him with him behind a tattered drapery covering the opening of some abandoned storeroom across the hallway. Tatsu wasted no more time and clung to him desperately and Seka answered the embrace and the frantic kisses against better judgement. He simply couldn’t resist it.

Tatsu clawed at him and wept in his ear. "Why are you not coming here anymore? Is he that much stricter on you? Why? What did you do? He doesn’t know, does he? Can’t you come and be with us anymore at all? Why can’t you talk to me if he doesn’t know? It’s been fucking hell since you left, I can’t stand it here anymore, you is all I think about… Gods you look so good, I can’t believe it how beautiful you are… What is this you’re wearing? I’ve never seen anything like it. Is it true you missed me…"

Seka had no chance to even try and answer one question before Tatsu was half way through the next one. Seemed he didn’t really want any answers anyway, he just babbled from sheer excitement and in frustration of the situation.

"I don’t know," Seka said and wasn’t sure about which of the questions he was actually answering, "I don’t know when he’ll bring me again, if ever. He’s been… much worse, I’m not allowed to talk to anyone or go anywhere… I do care but you must go now!"

Seka forced Tatsu to let go of him and it seemed like reality finally got through to him. Tatsu stepped back and sniveled miserably. "I understand," he whispered, "and I knew it couldn’t happen… but it’s… hard… I’d better go so you won’t be in trouble…"

Seka wanted to say something, anything to make him feel better but Tatsu clawed the drapery aside and ran off. Seka stood there for a second feeling his chest all tightened up and he wanted to crawl in to the dark corners of the smelly storeroom and cry his eyes out but he shook all such feelings. He had to get back to where his master left him before he returned. He reached for the drapery and pulled it aside… only to find himself staring at Azrel’s chest

"You’re friends with the freak?"

Seka gasped and couldn’t have answered for the life of him. Azrel grabbed at him, pulled him out into the hallway and pressed him against the wall next to the door.

"I saw you," he said coldly, "I was over there, half way up the stairs and I could look right down over these hangings and I saw you… You kissed him! For goodness sake Seka, if you want to risk papa’s anger like that you could at least have chosen someone not looking like a… monster. What’s the matter with you?"

Seka felt his lips quivering. Azrel sounded angry. It was all over then, all over for Tatsu…

"I suppose I should tell papa right away. What do you think he’ll do?"

Seka could still not find the use of his tongue.

"No, I don’t know either but I am pretty sure it won’t be nice. In fact I have a feeling it will be pretty damn ugly, real nasty…You’ll live though, I don’t think he’ll kill you but freak boy… That’s a whole different matter." Azrel put a hand under his chin and made him look up. "Do you know how they usually execute slaves Seka? They’ll be hung along a wall; they put the rope over a hook on the wall and haul them up. It takes minutes to die that way… looong minutes."

Now Seka was too shocked to be able to speak but as Azrel looked like he was turning to leave he threw himself at his knees.

Azrel stayed and looked down. "You know Seka, that coat is worth about twice as much as you are, you shouldn’t soil it like that…"

"Please," he managed to press out, "please, I’ll do anything…"

Azrel had him stand up. "You care about that boy?" he asked.

There was such a strange tone in Azrel’s voice, such an odd look in his eyes. The question was almost shyly asked. Could there be pity in it too, he wasn’t sure? Seka knew he should deny it. He must deny it. But whatever it was that he heard in Azrel’s voice it in any case wasn’t the master speaking and he nodded to that question even before he knew what he was doing.

"Yes Master Azrel, I… I do," he whispered, "please… please don’t tell… please save him… I will never ever go near him again… please?"

Azrel was silent for a horrifyingly long time but then he grinned and it was far from a nice smile. "I see, got yourself a lover, ha? You slut. You conniving little trollop… All right, I won’t tell papa. I promise I won’t but you have to show me a bit of gratitude then Seka."

Seka nodded in eager honesty. "Any way I can Master Azrel. Any way!"

"Good. Listen closely, three days from now papa will spend all night here in meetings and then I want you to stay by the windows and when you hear pebbles being thrown at it you open the balcony door for me. Do you understand?"

Oh Seka understood all right and he had blackmailed Azrel once hadn’t he? Well he would get a taste of his own medicine now it seemed. "But… but… he has forbidden it… if he finds out…" he whispered feebly.

"So he has. And I really hate to go behind my father’s back but it’s just silly that I can’t use you as before and besides it’s mum really who doesn’t want me to… Well, don’t you mind, it’s not your business. You just do as I say if you don’t want to be flogged and if you want that… creature to continue his miserable days. And so what if papa finds out? What do you think will make him most angry? His own son stealing a little pleasure from his catamite or a disfigured lowly brothel servant doing the same thing?"

Seka gulped and nodded, promising to obey Azrel’s order to the letter.

>>> * <<<

Being confined to his master’s rooms he was never quite sure what day it was. Azrel had said three days but he was soon unsure about how many days had passed and spent every minute in nervous waiting by the windows scared of not hearing the pebbles clatter against the glass. He didn’t let Azrel in it would be disaster.

When it finally happened it didn’t matter how prepared he had been for it, it still scared him half to death to hear the sudden sound. I took him a few seconds to get a grip on himself and get the doors open. An icy cold gust of wind hit him in the face and made him wince and he braced himself to step out naked and barefooted on the balcony where his feet sank down to their ankles in powdery snow.

He heard the rustling sounds and the muttered cursing and recognized well Azrel’s voice. It was still kind of spooky to see a white hand creep over the railing in the darkness.

"Seka? Are you there? Give me a hand will you? Now!"

He obeyed that voice seemingly coming out of nowhere and stepped up to look over the railing. Azrel had climbed up the pillars using the fact that they where totally overgrown by some age-old wine. The naked branches held his weight only by being a thick weave but they were weaker at the top and Azrel had one hand on the icy railing and the other searching desperately for a good grip while the wines snapped under his feet.

Seka doubted he could hold Azrel’s weight but he leaned over the railing and held him under the arm and that gave Azrel the support he needed to get a better hold, he hauled himself over the railing and landed on the balcony with a laugh. Azrel got to his feet and brushed the snow from his clothes stepping into the warmth of his father’s rooms. "Well? Are you going to stand there all night, naked in the snow? Get back in here!"

As soon as Seka got the door closed Azrel grabbed at him, pulling him into a bone-breaking embrace.

"I’ve kind of missed you," he said cutting himself short by pressing a greedy mouth to his lips. Seka answered the kiss in spite of himself. Except for that short nuzzle with Tatsu a few days ago no one had kissed him in months… But then Azrel let go and stepped back, grinning, searching under his clothes for something. Seka’s heart sank as he pulled out a length of rope.

"I’ve sure missed this," Azrel snickered, "come here!"

His reluctance must have shown on his face, he must have hesitated too long… whatever, Azrel didn’t wait for him to obey, he grabbed his arm pulled him closer and backhanded him. For a few moments the whole room was spinning and then the pain spread like shock waves throughout his head. But it was much worse that it had been so totally unexpected. He moaned more from fear than of pain.

Azrel didn’t normally hit him. Azrel had given him impatient and annoyed slaps but Azrel had never hit him this hard before. Azrel had a bad temper but his anger was usually soon forgotten again. And he was never really mean, never really wanted to hurt him. Azrel’s bark was usually much worse than his bite. There was something eerily different about him now. Seka thought Azrel might be angry but not like he usually was, this was a colder sort of anger and it seemed he didn’t care one bit about what his father would say. Seka felt at his cheek, there would be a bruise, no way a blow that hard would not bruise. What would he tell his master? That he ran in to a door? Would he believe that?

Azrel still held one of his wrists in a tight grip and he squeezed it now so hard that Seka feared the strong boy would break the smaller bones in his hand, the grip would bruise too… that would be harder to explain…

Azrel jerked him closer again. "You’ll be sorry Seka," he hissed in his ear, "you’ll be damn sorry, believe me."

Seka honestly had not a clue what he was talking about. He couldn’t see he had done anything to Azrel that he would take personally like that. How could he have done anything when he hadn’t even seen him in months? Was he angry because he couldn’t use him? But he must know such choices was not his to make. And he had obeyed him now, hadn’t he?

Whatever was wrong Seka did not intend to anger him further, at Azrel’s order he turned faster than fast and gave him his hands to be tied behind his back. Azrel was gentler those times he tied him up, was being more careful, would try to see to it that it wasn’t too uncomfortable… that it didn’t hurt…

"Do you think you could get your elbows to connect?" Azrel said, "I think you can, with a little help…"

Seka would have told him that he didn’t think so if he had dared speak at all but it seemed it was not anatomically impossible. Azrel wound the ropes around his upper arms and simply pulled until his elbows met. It did hurt and Seka ground his teeth and tried to relax while Azrel tied his wrists too, harder than he had ever done before, coarse ropes, not silk, he would get rope burns… it would show… his master would see…

"Please… please don’t give me marks… please… your father will see…"

Apparently Azrel didn’t care, Seka saw little sharp sparks in front his eyes as Azrel gave him one upside his head with the flat of his hand, nearly as big and strong as his father’s. It brought him to his knees.

"Shut up you whore!"

That order, dripping with contempt, made him cower, trembling now. For whatever reason Azrel really was angry with him… for real.

A harsh pull at his hair got him to his feet again and Azrel dragged him across the room and into his father’s bedroom. Well inside he kicked a small footstool half way across the floor until it slammed into the big bed with a loud crash that made Seka flinch in fear. Azrel had him kneel in front it and bend over it, or really, the last he did by himself well understanding what Azrel needed the footstool for and not intending to make him more angry if there was anything at all he could do to avoid it.

This show of submissive compliance had no effect on Azrel. He kicked his feet wide apart and grabbed the length of rope coiling over his back from the painfully bound arms. Seka whimpered at the pain of getting his arms brutally pulled upwards. Azrel would be strong enough to wring his shoulder joints out of their sockets and judging from the intense pain he believed that was what Azrel really aimed to do. It got him sobbing and begging again, he couldn’t help it.

Azrel kicked him in the ass. "Didn’t I tell you to shut up! I’m not going to injure you, you little shit… not that much at least."

Azrel tied the rope to one of the bedposts leaving him with his cheek pressed to the floor and his ass high up in the air. Seka had promised to be silent, a promise he broke the second after as Azrel forced a dry finger roughly passed his tense sphincter muscle. Azrel forced the callous finger in as far as he could and then suddenly pulled upwards. Seka felt himself simply being lifted and it hurt so much that no order could have made him stop whimpering from that.

Nor could he stop the scream as Azrel tired of playing it rough with his fingers and replaced them with his cock. Azrel had never ever plunged into him, had always eased his way in. Seka had to admit that it was never as easy to overcome that initial tenseness and fear as it was with Azrel. Not so this time. Seka was more tense than usual and Azrel was much rougher than he had ever been. Seka was quite sure he woke up the whole house at the frantic yell he omitted, Azrel pulled out at that scream and Seka begged inside that it was because Azrel finally had decided to become his old, a bit more caring, self again and have mercy on him.

But Azrel only went to get some smaller piece of clothing from his father’s chests and stuffed it in Seka’s mouth and did it all over again. This time it hurt even more, like claws tearing at his bowels from the inside and there were flashes before his eyes and a dizzying, nauseating spinning of his head. Instinctively he tried to squirm away from the torment but that created equal torment from his brutally tied arms and Azrel had fingers of iron ground into his hips anyway. And all he could think of was that it was all going to mark and bruise and he would see… his master would see…

>>> * <<<

Seka greeted his master like he always did, in silent submissiveness; there was nothing else to do.

He had come up with one wild plan after another during his fearful waiting of his master’s return. He would hide somewhere until the bruises faded, he would climb down the balcony and run away, he would paint the bruises over with make up, he would tell him he had slipped on the wet tiles in the bathroom… desperate silly childish plans. Nothing of it would work or seem believable. And he hated Azrel with all his might because he understood now that Azrel had wanted his father to see it; he wanted Seka to be punished. Seka didn’t even try to figure out what he had done to deserve that; he just hated! But hate wouldn’t make anything better. He had broke down crying about a hundred times after Azrel had untied him and left him in a sobbing heap on the floor but crying wouldn’t make anything better either. There was nothing to do than to act as he always did and let his master see it. Nothing else to do… but why was the inevitable always so hard?

He stood there when his master returned, eyes downcast, not trying to hide his naked body in any way. He didn’t because of bravery or from any sort of logical thinking really, he did it only because there was nothing else to do.

Lord Medora didn’t notice at first, he didn’t even look at him, just strolled pass him with a weary look and threw his coat at him in the passing. But then he kind of froze in a middle of a step and turned back to rip the coat out of his arms and stared at him in incredulity. His eyes widened at the sight of his bruised arms, at the raw skin on his wrists, at his hips, black and blue as they were. He raised Seka’s head by the chin and saw the black and swollen cheek. With a jerk that almost made Seka trip on his own feet he turned him around and gasped at the giant bruise on his ass from Azrel’s boot. And with a yank that made Seka whimper he bent him over his hip clawing his ass cheeks wide apart and saw the small but numerous tears and the half dried up blood caking in it.

As he raised him up again and pushed him away Seka saw it, saw the fury in his master’s eyes and he knew that there would be more pain.

Medora grabbed at his arm and he yelped at the pain of the grip alone at his bruised skin but tried to be quiet as his master pulled him towards the bathroom. Be quiet, he repeated inside his head, begging makes it worse, be quiet…

The tub had not been emptied, there was old bath water in it, cold, dirty, gray foam clotted at the edges, long black hairs floating around at the surface, yes, he had been the last to bathe in it… Totally irrelevant thoughts that popped up in his head and were brutally cut off as he saw that grimy surface rush towards his face and he was held under water, his master’s hand a relentless force at his neck.

Seka had not understood he would do that, if he had, he would have drawn a deep breath. The dirty water flooded his mouth and he choked on it. He pressed it out with all his might and what air was left in his lungs was pressed out at the same time his whole body screaming with the agony of wanting to draw new air and being given nothing but unbreathable water.

He panicked, he thrashed about, kicked, clawed at the edges of the tub but nothing helped. He could fight with the additional strength of full panic and mortal dread all he liked… Medora was still stronger. He had not a sane thought in his head now as his chest wanted to burst with agony, as he felt his vision waver and darken, as he felt himself loosing it and floating into some obscure nothingness. And he used his last conscious flicker of thought to decide to give up and stop struggling and that’s what he did.

It was almost a disappointment to be pulled out of that merciful unconsciousness. But Medora was not finished with him it seemed and he did pull his head out of the water and shook him and held him almost upside down to make him spew the water out of his lungs and get him back into some sort of conscious state.

"Now I am going to ask you only once… Who?" Medora roared and shook him violently.

Why did he ask, Seka thought trying to draw enough air to answer, he must already know. Who else could it be?

"Your son… Master… your…son…" he gasped on the little air he could get.

Medora backhanded him, just as his son had done during the night but that had been a caress in comparison. And he must have blacked out from it a few seconds because he didn’t even know how he ended up in a boneless heap on the cool tiles a good way away from the tub. A forceful kick to his ribs shoved him another yard away and another kick made him throw up from pure pain and shock. And he was surprised that he was conscious enough to scream his throat raw as Medora grabbed at his wrist to pull him to his feet and he could hear the bones snap with a crunchy sound even before he registered the pain. He couldn’t stand, his legs couldn’t possibly support him and he hung from his broken wrist like a dead rabbit and Medora held him up and gave him another blow to the side of his head… and another… and another… and he knew nothing…

>>> * <<<

"You explain something to me Lord Medora. If you are willing to pay me more money than the slave’s market worth to patch him up, then why did you mess him up so badly in the first place?"

Well I know I’m not paying you to ask me stupid questions."

Seka heard the strange dreamlike murmuring slowly turn in to real voices that he could understand. He recognized his Master’s voice, the other, sarcastic one, was new to him but he couldn’t find the strength to open his eyes to find out who it might belong to.

"Now how bad is it?"

"The wrist is definitely broken, probably several of the hand’s smaller bones too, what did you do? Put the poor thing’s hand in a vice? God… Several ribs are cracked on both sides but I don’t think they are broken clean off. I don’t think the blood from his ear is anything to worry about, you probably only shredded his eardrum, might go deaf on that ear though… well, if it’s all he’ll probably heal up fine but I can’t guarantee that there aren’t any internal injuries. It will show in time though if that’s the case."

"How?"

"He’ll die on you, in unspeakable agonies. Pissing blood, bleeding from his nose, coughing things up, getting slowly poisoned from the inside by his own urine… he can go in any number of nice ways. You’ll see in time… Ah… If it leans toward that… have him put out of his miseries, there’s nothing that can be done about it anyway then…"

Seka had tried to pretend he was still unconscious which wasn’t very hard since he couldn’t move anyway. But the growing awareness of the suffering of his brutalized body and the unknown man’s words made him whimper and sob in fear and pain. The man, it must be a doctor, sat down at the bedside, he could feel the mattress shift. The man must lean over him too because it got darker through his closed eyelids, why couldn’t he open his eyes? There was a soft and cool hand on his forehead and a soft voice in his ear, now totally devoid of any sarcasm.

"Oh Dear… you heard that, didn’t you? Calm down boy. It might not be that bad at all. I am sure you will be fine, I will do my very best to make you well again. And he didn’t smash your nose in and all your teeth are still in place too, see? You have nothing to worry about, once healed up you will be as pretty as before, I promise."

Seka could have laughed at that hadn’t it hurt his ribs so bad. What did he care if Lord Medora had smashed his face in and made him look like hell? His damn looks were the cause of all the bad things that happened to him. But he really did appreciate the man’s attempt to comfort him because he was really scared. He didn’t want to die, for some strange reason he didn’t, and especially not in such a horrible way.

But he couldn’t stop crying now no matter how the doctor talked soothingly to him; he was in so much pain. He had never been in such pain before. Not when Medora had beaten him all over with a horsewhip in the war camp years ago, that had only hurt his skin, not when he had raped him until blood flowed, that had only hurt at his abdomen and ass. Not when he had been caned at the estate or Lady Medora had spanked him. Not even when they had thrown things at him being tied to the shield, he hadn’t broken anything then.

"What’s the matter with him?" Lord Medora asked, was there a bit of worry in his voice?

The doctor turned on the sarcastic voice again. "Well, what do you think? He’s in pain, probably more than he can handle. I can see it must be nothing for you to beat up a defenseless slave like this since you don’t even seem to understand they can actually feel pain. And you beat him half to death, why? For being raped? I saw how raw his anus is and it isn’t the first time I patch a catamite up for "letting" himself be taken by another man. Is that it?"

Considerable more annoyance in his master’s voice now. "That is none of your damn business, he’s my property and I do what I damn like. My money isn’t good enough for you I’ll find someone else to take care of him."

There was silence but for Seka’s inhibited whimpers but then the doctor spoke again. "I apologize Lord Medora, I was way out of line there. It’s just that I do this so often and then the next week they beat them again, there’s no point to my work… Well, I’ll give him something that will make him sleep again if his whimpers disturbs you."

And Seka felt the man’s fingertips on his lips, gently bending at his jaw. He tasted something so bitter that he grimaced but swallowed obediently because the doctor had said it would make him sleep and to be gone from this world in any way but death seemed a very tempting prospect right now.

>>> * <<<

Days later, maybe even a whole week and he was still in his bed, hurting all over, more deeply depressed than ever. Still scared about what the doctor had said about dying a horrible slow death from internal injuries. Seemed things could not be worse now. Sure, his master would let him heal. That doctor came now and then to check on him, to give him horrible tasting concoctions, to rub ointments on his bruises and see to it that his broken hand was set right. But it was plain to see he was out of favor with everybody now.

Azrel seemed to hate him as much as his mother did and Seka couldn’t even see why. And Lord Medora was obviously not very happy with him either. He hadn’t even once come to see him. He dreaded the restrictions that would probably be put on him now as soon as he had healed. He could probably forget about ever going back to The Quarters. He just hoped Azrel was sated in his hate now and wouldn’t tell on him. Seka froze at that thought. Maybe he already had? Tatsu could be strung up right now, kicking and jerking in a terrible death struggle. Tatsu could in fact be dead days ago and he would never even know. He couldn’t ask. Maybe Azrel would have enjoyed telling him about Tatsu’s death, he thought bitterly, but he would not be allowed near him now. He wondered if his master had punished Azrel too. He sincerely hoped so.

And every night he tossed and turned in nightmares and every morning he longed to be back in those dreams because reality was even worse. But at one of those mornings he was surprised to find his master sitting at his bedside when he woke up. Surprised and scared. He found himself flinching and cowering as the big man leaned closer. Such terrible strength… he had crushed his hand so easily…

"I won’t hurt you," Medora said softly, "how are you? Still hurting much?"

Seka looked even more astonished at that kind voice and nodded slowly but then remembered his manners. "Yes Master… but… but it’s better than before."

Medora smiled. "Doc says you are healing well, You’ll be on your feet in no time."

There was silence for a long time; his master kept sitting at the bedside just looking at him. It unnerved him. What did he want? He had never seen such a strange expression in his master’s face before. Lord Medora drew a deep breath, as if trying to gather himself and then suddenly he put his big callous hand on Seka’s smaller and bandaged hand, carefully as to not cause him more pain.

"I am sorry," he said, " sorry that I hurt you."



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