With an inward sigh, Oliver did as he was told.
****
For the next few days, the household’s excitement of the young master’s return spiced up the monotony of Oliver’s life. Mary bustled about planning all of Ben’s favorite meals, Polly freshened the guy’s bedroom, while Freddy cleaned the pool and spruced up the backyard. Even Joe smiled through what had to be a painful back as he went about his duties. It seemed to Oliver the slaves showed more enthusiasm over the young master’s homecoming than his father. As Friday approached, Oliver sensed a tension about the master that came out in the form of relentless sexual release. Even in the dead of night the man would turn to Oliver to use his body. By the time Friday arrived, Oliver was exhausted.
The master came home earlier than usual and immediately downed a scotch while Oliver sucked him off. He was swallowing down the last of his master’s cum when he heard a commotion from the front door. Pushing Oliver back, the master sprang up and righted his pants before racing out of the den. Oliver got to his feet and followed at a slower pace. Naked except for the rings that were almost always wrapped around his cock, he felt shy at the idea of someone new seeing him. Of course, come the next night, four other men would ogle him. At least Mary had said the master expected that number of guests.
At the entryway, she stood enveloped in masculine arms while Polly and Freddy hung around to one side. “It’s so good to have you home, Master Ben,” the housekeeper cried.
“It’s great to be home, Mary. I missed you, all of you,” a voice muffled by her hair said.
Then they broke apart and Oliver could only stare at the young man standing in front of the open door. He had dark curly hair with a hint of red reflected by the sunlight streaming in. His dress of T-shirt and cargo shorts showed off his long limbs. He was muscular like his father, but leaner and tanned to a golden hue, as if he’d spent a lot of time outdoors. He smiled with genuine pleasure at the small group around him, his straight white teeth gleaming.
For the first time in a long while, Oliver’s cock stirred to life. He winced inwardly when the steel cage around it cut off the burgeoning erection. Good thing, too. Getting hard at the sight of the master’s son would land him against the whipping post faster than any dented car would. But God, Ben was magnificent. Moving his hands in front of himself, Oliver willed the hardness away while he watched the homecoming from a distance.
He wasn’t the only one standing back, either. The master remained still ahead of him, the now-empty glass held tight in his hand. He made no move to greet his son. It was the young master who finally brought them together. With the smile fixed on his face, he turned to his father.
“It’s good to see you, Dad.” He stepped farther into the house and extended a hand. The master took it and they exchanged a brief shake.
“Welcome home, Ben,” the older man said.
Oliver didn’t know shit about father-and-son relationships, other than the made-up stuff he’d seen on television. It seemed to him, though, that the interaction of the two masters was awkward at best. The two men stood staring at each other for a few seconds before Joe broke the tension by coming in with a couple of duffle bags in his hands.
“Oh, thanks, Joe,” Ben said. “Would you please bring them up to my room?”
Oliver tried not to show any surprise. A freeman asking his slave to do something instead of telling him? How weird was that?
The master frowned as he watched Joe hustle up the stairs. “Polly, go unpack Master Ben’s bags,” he ordered in a gruff tone.
“That’s okay,” Ben said. “I can do it. I need to go take a shower before dinner anyway.”
“You’ve been without slaves too long,” his father said. “Polly will take care of your things.” As he said it, he gave Polly a look that had her nodding her head in agreement and scurrying up the stairs after Joe. “Mary, I want dinner in an hour.”
“Yes, master,” she agreed and left, tugging Freddy in her wake.
With his hands shoved in his back pockets, Ben heaved a sigh at his father. “You’re right. I haven’t been around slaves for the last two months because the EU followed Canada’s example and outlawed slavery last year.”
“And all of their economies have gone down the crapper because of it, dragging on ours, too, I might add,” the master retorted.
The news stunned Oliver. There were actually countries in the world where people had made slavery illegal. It wasn’t just rumors. But then what difference did it make? He lived in the US and slavery was certainly alive and well in his known world.
Ben shook his head. “Jesus, Dad.” If he had intended to say more, he didn’t. At that moment, he glanced down the hall and saw Oliver. His expression went from confusion to dawning understanding in a matter of moments. His gaze traveled the length of Oliver’s naked form from head to toe and then back again. With the intensity of his scrutiny, Oliver blushed with shame, desire, who knew?
“Is that?” Ben broke off his question and jerked his stare back to his father.
The master cleared his throat. “Ah, yeah, that’s my new body slave. Come here, Oliver,” he commanded sharply.
Oliver stepped closer and lowered his gaze. “Welcome home, Master Ben,” he said, as that seemed to be the only thing to say.
A long awkward silence ensued until Ben finally broke it. “I had no idea you’d done that.” His voice held an odd catch to it.
Oliver sneaked a peek at the young master from under his lashes. He caught a look of sadness on his face.
The master sighed heavily. “I miss your mother as much today as I ever did, but I needed some companionship. I got a boy because I couldn’t, wouldn’t put a girl in her bed. Oliver keeps me company, takes care of my—needs.”
“But why a slave, Dad? Why don’t you start dating?”
The master smiled wanly at the question. “Why would I do that? I found the woman of my dreams, married her, raised children with her, and ran a business with her. She was perfect in every way. I won’t find that again. I don’t even want to try.”
After few long seconds, Ben nodded. “Okay, I guess I get that.” Putting his hand on his father’s shoulder, he added, “I miss her, too, and I want you to be happy, Dad.” He turned to Oliver. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you, sir,” Oliver answered in a sincere tone. With this young man in the house, things might be better.
“I’ll grab that shower and meet you in the dining room,” Ben said to his father and bounded up the stairs.
The master watched him go, a cheery look on his face. When his son disappeared from sight, the expression disappeared. Spinning around, the master gripped Oliver by the arm and yanked him down the hall. “Come on, I need another drink.”
Oliver stumbled to keep up.
****
Dinner held more interest than usual given a conversation took place. By some unspoken agreement, father and son talked about the trip abroad in terms of sights, and food, and other touristy stuff that had no overtones of politics. Too bad. Oliver had hoped to hear more about these countries where everyone was free. How did one even go from being a slave to being free? The idea boggled his mind. But as the meal dragged on, he tuned out the conversation, and simply knelt at his master’s side as usual.
When he’d first sunk to his knees, he caught Ben’s frown. The younger man didn’t say anything, however, and for that Oliver was grateful. Even if the young master didn’t like his presence or maybe just didn’t like him on his knees, Oliver didn’t need to be a point of contention between father and son. He stayed still and ignored the discomfort of his position and his growing hunger, his mind a pleasant blank. Until a sharp slap across the face brought him back to the present. He gasped more out of shock than any real pain and blinked up at his master.
“My son asked you a question, boy,” the master admonished.
Oliver turned to Ben. “I’m sorry, sir, I wasn’t paying attention.” He swallowed hard. “Would you please b
e so kind as to repeat it?”
Ben frowned once more. Oliver didn’t think he was mad at him for wool-gathering because he changed his expression to an encouraging one almost instantly. “I asked where you’re from,” he said in a kind voice.
Oliver gave the young master a shy smile. “My birth master lived in Fitchburg, sir.”
“Oh.” Ben speared a forkful of meat. “That’s only about an hour away.” He bit into the food, chewed, and moaned. “No matter where I ate, nothing was as good as Mary’s cooking.”
Oliver wasn’t surprised about the quality of Mary’s skills, but it somewhat surprised him to learn he was so close to his mother and sister. He’d been crying so hard when he’d been sold, he hadn’t paid too much attention to where he’d been brought or how long it had taken to get there.
“Do you have any family, Oliver?” Master Ben asked.
“Yes, sir, I have a mother and younger sister.” He didn’t say he had a father because he was pretty sure calling your former master your father would be presumptuous. He didn’t want another slap.
“Are they still with your birth master?”
It was weird how the guy talked to him. Oliver had never really had a conversation with a free person before. “I believe so, sir.” He could still picture his sister and mother wrapped in each other’s arms, crying as he’d been led away.
“Maybe you can visit with them then,” Master Ben offered.
The suggestion surprised and delighted Oliver. He hadn’t dared think of such a thing, let alone ask for it. Before he could respond, though, the master chimed in.
“That’s not going to happen. This wasn’t a private sale. I got Oliver from a broker, so there was no agreement for visitation.”
The master crushed the fleeting hope in Oliver’s heart with his callous words. Stupid to have thought even for a second that such a thing was possible anyway. He had no one to blame for his disappointment other than himself. He blinked back the tears suddenly threatening to leak out and steadied his gaze to a point across the room. Before he did, however, he was sure the young master had seen his distress. The man didn’t say anything, yet a look of sympathy had flashed across his face before he too masked his feelings. Knowing that he was an object of pity somehow made everything worse, not better. Oliver was beyond relieved when the master picked up the conversational ball and lobbed it away from his slave.
After dinner, Oliver was dismissed for a few hours while father and son caught up some more in the master’s den. Oliver was called to his master’s bedroom much later. He used him rougher than usual, not even bothering to speak with him. Fisting his fingers in Oliver’s hair, he tugged his head back and pounded into him. It seemed as if the return of his son had made him if not unhappy, at least on edge. Fortunately he had his new slave to squeeze as a human stress ball. By the time the man finished and fell asleep, he’d left Oliver sore and worn out.
Lying on his side facing away from his master, Oliver tried to will himself to sleep. Visions of the young master battered their way through his tired brain. The handsome face with the warm brown eyes stared down at him with compassion, and maybe a hint of desire. No, that was pure fantasy and one that caused his cock to strain once more against the damnable cage. Slowly, so as not to jostle the master, he slid his hand across his hip to cup his aching dick. The flesh pressed against the metal as if it could squeeze through the rings. His balls were pulled up tight against his body, trapped with no possible way to empty.
He groaned inside his head, being silent in his pleasure a well-learned lesson. He should have shut thoughts of the young master down immediately, but perversely he didn’t. Instead he imagined what it would have been like if the master had taken him into the den after dinner the way he had most every night. What if he had been ordered to service both of them, giving the son a welcome-home blow job? He pictured kneeling between Ben’s legs and taking what would have been a freshly washed cock inside his mouth. Perhaps he would have been the first person to suck him off in the months he’d been gone.
Yeah, right. As if someone as attractive as Ben would go that long without having someone. Women and men must throw themselves at him all of the time. And speaking of which, maybe Ben was straight and unlike his father, not open to being serviced by a male slave. Likely, all he’d ever see when he looked at Oliver was his father’s pathetic sex toy. A drop of pre-cum slid down to touch his hand, mocking him. His cock and balls ached painfully. With one last squeeze of his unsatisfied flesh, he let go. The dreams and the hand job were getting him exactly nowhere. All he had accomplished was to add new hurts to his body and new sorrow to his lot.
With fists resting up against his chin, he let the tears fall through closed eyes. He told himself the pain and exhaustion of his body wrung out those tears. Then he wondered why he bothered to lie.
Chapter Four
Sleeping in his old bedroom and hanging around the house was weird. Ben felt out of place in a way he hadn’t before when he’d come home for school breaks and summer. Maybe the feeling came from not being a student anymore, or maybe from being home for the first time for an extended stay since his mother’s death. Or, it could be that the discussion he dreaded having with his father hung over his head, making him toss and turn. Yeah, that was a real possibility. He couldn’t believe he’d been home a full twenty-four hours without his father once bringing up the topic of Ben joining the family business.
Then, of course, there was the body slave. Oliver. Pretty, too pretty, with silky-looking blond hair almost to his shoulders and bright blue eyes. That rosebud mouth and slender body belonged on a girl, except if they had been on a girl, Ben wouldn’t have given them a second look. The boy’s maleness, all too evident with the caged cock swinging between his legs had caught his notice and given him one hell of a wet dream once he’d finally gotten to sleep.
Shit, his dick throbbed just thinking about the guy. And given that his father kept him hanging around naked all day, including at every meal, how could Ben stop thinking about him? The one solution Ben had come up with worked well enough to calm things down, except it involved remembering where the slave slept at night—with Ben’s father, in the same bed where his mother had slept. The ick factor ranked high, although his father had the right point about one thing; it was easier to accept his father tucking a boy in between the sheets as opposed to a girl.
Ben missed his mother and had no doubt his father did, too. It wasn’t that he begrudged his father the companionship or the sex. It was how he went about it that weighed heavily on Ben’s mind. He had always hated slavery, the pure unfairness of it all. Being in Europe and seeing how right society worked with everyone free made coming back to a world of slavery hard. Having a home filled with even more slavery, and the worst possible kind, sexual servitude, made him slightly sick.
So did the smell of cigars, he thought, trying to lighten his mood as he stepped into the game room. His father’s poker night with “the guys” was in full swing. Smoke and laughter and something else hung thick in the air. He wasn’t sure how to categorize the third thing until he saw Oliver crawl out from under the table the players sat around. As if he were a dog or something. He saw the boy swipe at the corner of his mouth with a look of disgust that was gone before Ben was even sure he’d seen it. The slave went to kneel beside his master, who petted him briefly on the head.
Yup, just like a dog.
“So how was it?” his father asked the guy sitting across from him.
“Kid gives good head,” the man said, taking a long cigar out of his mouth.
“Yeah, you weren’t exaggerating about that,” agreed a man Ben recognized as Vince McGill, one of his father’s more slimy friends, Ben had always thought. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready for another round.”
His father chuckled. “So long as you keep losing, he can spend the whole evening with your dick in his mouth.” All of the other men, including Vince, laughed.
Christ, his father had
passed Oliver around like some kind of living blow-up doll. Now, Ben really did feel sick, especially seeing how the guy just kneeled there with a blank expression as if he didn’t care what he’d been forced to do. How could he not? And with five guys yanking him around, he must be exhausted already. An idea struck him. Before he could rethink it, he sauntered over to his father, who’d raked in a large pot.
“Hey, Dad, how’s the game going?” He plastered a smile on his face. “Gentlemen, is my father cleaning you out?” The men returned the greeting and grumbled good-naturedly about how his father was a card shark. A couple, like Vince, who’d known him his whole life asked about his trip and how it felt to be out of college. He traded banter for a few minutes before turning to his father.
“So, ah, Dad, mind if I take Oliver for a few minutes?”
His father stopped shuffling the cards in his hand and raised his eyebrows. “You want Oliver to suck you off?”
With effort, Ben kept his smile in place and shrugged. “I find I can’t ignore the testimonials, so yeah, you know, if you don’t mind.” Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a flicker of emotion on the slave’s face, although which emotion he couldn’t be sure. Then it fled, if it had ever been there.
His father shrugged back and started dealing. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Thanks. I’ll just go into your den,” he said, jerking his thumb toward the connecting door.
When his father gave him an absent nod as consent, the others turned their attention to their cards. Ben flicked his gaze down to Oliver, but the slave already stood, his eyes cast downward. Ben figured if he walked away, the guy would follow him, so that’s what he did. Once they were both inside the den, he closed the door and proceeded over to the couch. He sat down heavily and let his legs splay open. Before he could think of something to say, Oliver plopped himself down on his knees right between Ben’s legs and reached for his belt.
Body Slave Page 4
