As if Oliver were somehow tough and jaded, Ben thought bitterly. He would bet anything that the boy had been as sweet and innocent as his sister. Finally, however, there was something he could do to help. He propped himself up on one arm.
“I’ll buy her.” Oliver’s eyes widened. “I’ll contact the brokerage house and offer them a fee to track down your birth master. I can’t buy your sister now because of her age, so I’ll have him sign an agreement to buy her when she turns eighteen. I have the money from my mother’s estate,” he added when Oliver looked skeptical.
“Really?” the slave finally asked.
“Sure. Why not?”
Oliver glanced away. “Oh, um, I thought you liked boys.”
Laughing, Ben pulled the boy closer. “I do like boys. I wouldn’t buy her for a body slave. I’ll find some clerical work for her to do at the lumberyard.” He shrugged. “Who knows, maybe she’ll meet a nice slave boy and start her own family.
“You’d do this? For me?”
“For you,” Ben assured him in a quiet voice. He meant to give only a reassuring kiss. His cock and Oliver had other ideas. They slept very little for the rest of the night.
****
Oliver dragged ass Monday morning, although he didn’t care because of the reason behind his tiredness, and because Ben brought him to the lumberyard. He was allowed to spend the whole day working with Mr. Fiorello and Danny, too. Even when he’d worked up the courage to ask Ben if he wanted to be blown in his office, Ben had refused. He treated Oliver like a human being, a free one even, rather than a toy. That alone made Oliver love him. Promising to buy his sister to keep her from the life of a body slave ensured that he would be devoted to Ben no matter what the cost. The master was due home in a couple of days so Oliver’s life would return to its painful and even dreary state. This time with Ben, however, and his promise would be enough to make anything bearable.
He intended to make what time they had left as good as he could. And given that blow jobs were off limits during the day, he made up for it once they were back home and alone for the night. Ben lay propped up in his bed, eyes closed, fists clenched against the sheet. His body writhed as Oliver sucked and laved his cock. He tasted so good and it was fun to make this man squirm with pleasure. It wasn’t a game or a chore, but an act of love. Oliver worked to bring him to a shattering climax.
When Ben bucked and shouted out his release, Oliver sucked him all the way down, milking him dry. As soon as the drained flesh slipped past Oliver’s lips, Ben dragged him up for a kiss. This was perhaps the best part of being with him, the affection. He felt treasured. Ben nipped at his lips and hugged him tight before simply pressing their foreheads together and staring into Oliver’s eyes.
“You have a way of sucking the stress right out of me.”
Oliver grinned. “Please don’t be too relaxed. I’m hoping you’ll fuck me later.” It amazed him that he could be so familiar with a freeman.
Ben swatted Oliver’s butt. “I’ve created a monster.” The grin that followed assured that Ben only teased. “I’m going to need a few minutes. How about some ice cream in the meantime?”
It was obvious that Ben had a sweet tooth and who was a slave to argue with a treat? “Sounds good.” When Oliver tried to get up to go to the kitchen, Ben pushed him back down and planted another kiss before rolling off the bed.
“No, don’t get up. I can find my way to the kitchen and dish up some ice cream,” he said pulling on sweatpants.
“Thank you,” he replied shyly, still not used to being pampered.
“Besides, I want you here, waiting for me.” Ben gave him a comical leer before leaving the room.
Stretching out his limbs, Oliver intended to stay where he was. His bladder had other ideas, so he got up to pee. Footsteps sounded in the bedroom. He finished washing his hands and rounded the door jamb.
“That was quick. Are we all out or are you just ready for that fuck now?”
His muscles seized, petrified just like the word always implied, when he saw the master standing in the middle of the room. His mind rebelled against what was happening. It couldn’t be true. He didn’t even think to kneel, couldn’t manage to cringe or beg as the master stormed toward him. The man was mute with fury, but it was there in his eyes and in the ruddiness of his cheeks. He raised his large hand even before he reached Oliver. The blow caused an explosion of pain and Oliver wasn’t yet down on the ground before a foot slammed into his stomach.
Clutching at his middle, he fought for breath then retched when the next kick drove his balls practically inside his body. His master gave him no quarter, yanking him back up by his hair to deliver another blow to his face. Blood spurted out of his nose and one eye was already closing up. He landed on his side with a silent scream of white-hot pain.
“Devious cunt!” his master spit out as he once more grabbed Oliver with one arm raised. “I’ll teach you to make a fool of me.”
Oliver didn’t bother to cry or plead or explain. He deserved it all, and more. The punches were nothing. The kicks not much more. Each time the master hauled him up to deliver more punishment, he didn’t resist. He took it all as silently as he could. The only begging he did was to whatever merciful God might exist to make sure the master tired himself out on his slave and had nothing left for Ben when he returned.
Chapter Ten
The downstairs was quiet as Ben expected. He’d been careful not to bring Oliver to his room until everyone else had settled for the night. He didn’t want the other slaves to know what went on between him and Oliver, although he was pretty sure Mary had figured it out. She’d given him a veiled look of reproach, maybe, or just one of concern. Certainly his own guilt about starting something with Oliver he couldn’t continue made him see shadows where there were none.
Switching on the light, he pulled a quart of ice cream out of the freezer. He started to get bowls then realized it would be more fun to eat it right out of the container. Delighted with the idea, he grabbed a spoon for sharing. The back door opened and Joe stepped inside carrying a couple of bags. The older slave stopped and stared at him.
It took Ben’s tired brain a moment to process what he saw. Those were his father’s bags. Joe must have picked him up at the airport. His father was home early.
“Fuck!” Ben dropped what he carried and bolted up the back stairs.
Yards from his room he heard blows and grunts. He ran full throttle into the horror show. “Stop!”
The command was more of a desperate cry as he took in the scene before him. His father held Oliver up on his knees by a fistful of hair, the other fist raised to deliver a punch. The slave’s beautiful face was already bloody, his torso and legs bore red marks that would soon blossom into ugly bruises. Both men breathed harshly, and his father was beet red with rage.
“Leave him alone,” Ben ordered with a voice steadier than he felt. “I’m the one you should be mad at. He only did what I ordered him to do.”
Oliver’s bleeding lips formed a silent no that Ben ignored.
His father let go of the slave and took a half step toward Ben. “Vince was right. He told me something was off and that I should come home earlier than planned.”
Vince, of course. The fucker couldn’t mind his own business. Ben made a quick mental vow to find a way to make the other man pay. “I had the boy give me blow jobs. I thought that was okay with you.”
“Don’t lie to me!” Spittle flew out of his father’s mouth. “I found this slut prancing out of your bathroom as if he owned the place, talking about fucking.” They both ignored the low whimper Oliver made. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
Okay, lying wasn’t going to work. May as well try the truth. “Fine. You’re right. I’ve been fucking him.” He shrugged with forced nonchalance. “I like him, and I want him. How much?”
“You’re offering to buy him from me?” his father sneered. Not a good sign.
Panic threatened to come out. He pushed it down. Ol
iver was doomed unless he could get his father to agree. “Why not? I have my inheritance from Mom, plenty to pay for a good body slave.”
His father barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I know you have enough money, but I’m not selling him to you. Maybe,” he added with a glare at Oliver. “I’ll sell him to Vince once I’ve grown tired of his cunt.”
Ben shuddered inwardly at the idea of a guy like Vince owning Oliver. He knew his father baited him, but there was nothing to be done except play his trump card. “Fine, to sweeten the pot, I’ll agree to join you at the lumber company permanently. I won’t wait for Deidre to come home. I’ll make the commitment now.”
That shut his father up. He stared back at Ben with mouth agape and eyes wide.
“No,” came a low plea. Both Ben and his father looked down at Oliver, although the slave’s eyes were fixed on Ben. “Please, Ben, don’t make that sacrifice for me.”
Fuck! The last thing he wanted was his father’s attention back on Oliver. And no way Ben intended to listen to the slave anyway. This was the only solution.
”Shut the fuck up!” he yelled into Oliver’s startled face. “You’re just a slave. No one cares about what you think or what you want. You’ll do what your goddamned well told to do.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds. Tears swam in Oliver’s eyes before he dropped his gaze to the floor. As he wrapped his arms around his body, a visible shudder ran through him.
With more calm than he felt, Ben turned back to his father. “Do we have a deal?”
“A deal? Let me get this straight. You’re offering to do everything that I’ve practically begged you to do since you came home. And it’s not because you want to please me, or help me, or honor your mother’s memory. No,” his father shouted. “It’s because you want this slut!” He flung a hand in the slave’s direction.
Panting heavily, his father paced away. His hands came up to tug at his hair. “You’re willing to change your life to get some worthless piece of ass slave that you could buy anywhere.”
When he turned back to glare at Ben, his face had turned an even brighter shade of red than before and his eyes practically bugged out. “I don’t fucking believe it.” He started laughing, that hysterical kind that always freaks people out in movies, as if he’d lost his mind. “I bet you think you’re in love with him, don’t you? Like some fucking tearjerker romance movie. I knew you were too soft where slaves were concerned, but I didn’t think you were plain soft in the head.”
His father took a deep and wheezing breath. “No! That’s my answer. I’ll never sell this cunt to you, or give him to you. I don’t care what you do. You’ve been nothing but disrespectful to me since your mother died. I don’t want you working for me. I don’t want….”
He took another hard breath then leaned over. His hands clutched at his chest and his knees gave out. “Get out.” Wheeze. “Get out of my house.”
Ben didn’t wait for his father to fall face down on the rug before rushing to his side and turning him over. “Call an ambulance!” he called out to Oliver before he ripped his father’s shirt open and started CPR.
****
He’d killed his father. That’s what Ben thought as the night dragged on without any further updates from the trauma team. Coronary episode was the one thing he’d been told hours ago after they’d arrived at the hospital. Now he sat with his ass and mind numb, waiting to hear the bad news. Despite all of the turmoil between them, he didn’t want his father to die. Losing one parent a year was plenty. Harder, too, to bear knowing he’d been the cause of it. Well, to be fair to himself, it was his father’s own bigotry and mean-spiritedness that had led him to his heart attack. Had the notion of Ben falling for a slave been so horrible?
Oliver. Truth be told, the boy occupied more of his thoughts than his father did. The last Ben had seen of him, he’d been standing in a corner of the bedroom, pale and glassy-eyed. The only color on him was the red of his bloody face and the bruises turning dark on his body. The EMTs hadn’t shown the boy an ounce of concern even though he’d clearly been hurt. Oliver’s slave collar made it not their business. Ben could only hope Mary and Joe had gotten him to one of the all-night slave clinics. He would have called home to check except the no cell phone sign up on the wall stayed his hand. He didn’t want to leave the waiting room either, in case someone came looking for him.
Christ, what a mess, and it was all his fault.
“Mr. Tanner?”
He jumped up to face a petite woman who looked too young to be fixing other people’s hearts, but her tag said Dr. on it. “Yes. How’s—” He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “How’s my father?”
The woman gave him a tired smile. “He’s stable.” Pushing a stray strand of hair back, she continued. “As you know, he suffered an acute coronary episode. His arteries are badly clogged, so it was inevitable.”
“I see. He, ah, was under a lot of stress when it happened. We were fighting.”
“Well, that just helped to trigger it, but it was only a matter of time. Please don’t feel guilty, if you are.”
Ben quirked his lips. “Yeah, I have been actually.” He sighed. “When can I see him?”
“Now, if you like. He’s awake and lucid. Just don’t stay too long. He needs rest and as soon as we judge him stable enough, he needs surgery for those arteries.”
“Okay, got it.”
He wasn’t even sure his father would want to see him. Trailing quietly behind the doctor, he poked his head around the privacy curtain to stare at his father. His old man looked better than he expected. Hooked up to all kinds of tubes and gadgets, he still looked like the big, formidable guy that he always had been.
“Keep things calm,” the doctor advised before she slipped out.
Ben moved closer to the bed. His father opened his eyes and glared back at him. “Sorry to disappoint you, kid. I’m still alive.”
“Dad!” Ben admonished in a hushed tone. He’d never wanted that, although he could understand why the guy would think it. “I’m glad you’re okay. The doctor said you’re going to be fine.”
“No, I’m not,” came his father’s curt reply. “Obviously, I had a lengthier conversation with her. I need surgery.”
“I know, but then you’ll be fine. They do these artery surgeries all the time.”
“I’m sure they do, but in my case, I’ve been advised I have to slow down. It means retirement.”
“Oh.” Ben didn’t know what to say to that.
“Yeah, oh,” his father sneered. Obviously the coronary episode hadn’t curbed his sharp tongue. He squirmed a bit and fiddled with the covers before continuing. “So you get what you wanted after all.”
“What’s that?” Ben asked, genuinely perplexed.
“The slave.”
On hearing the words, Ben’s own heart threatened to have an episode. “What do you mean?” He didn’t dare hope.
“I mean I accept your proposal. You get the slave in exchange for taking over the lumber company. You don’t have to pay for him, though. What would I do with your money anyway? I have plenty of my own.”
Ben’s mouth went dry. He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He tried not to show too much enthusiasm for fear his father would think he was glad about the reason he was getting what he wanted. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Don’t thank me. You haven’t heard the other terms of the deal yet.”
Instantly alert for trouble, he asked, “What other terms?”
“You get his ownership outright, but I’ll put a condition on the bill of sale that you can’t take him anywhere to free him. You try to take him to Canada or any other country or state that outlaws slavery, and I can revoke the transfer. This condition will last for twenty years and it will pass to Vince if I die before then.”
Ben stared down at his father for long seconds. Even lying in a hospital bed, the man managed to be an asshole. Fuck it! He could live with these terms as long as he had Oliver. Twenty years was a l
ong time to wait to free the boy he loved, but he could wait. Oliver was worth the time and the effort.
“If I die before the time is up, can I leave him to Deidre or someone else?” Given that Oliver’s life depended on it, he had to nail the details down.
“With the condition in place, yes,” his father replied in a weary voice.
“Deal.”
His father grinned up at him, although the expression held no genuine joy. “Good. Get my lawyer here first thing in the morning with the paperwork. I want this done and over with. Now go away, I need to sleep.”
Ben watched his father close his eyes before turning to leave. Before he reached the door, however, he broke out in a broad smile. Oliver would soon be his.
****
“Here’s a fresh ice pack.”
“Thanks.” Oliver took the offering from Mary and placed it against his aching cheek. He had a hard time choosing what to treat. He’d spent all night applying cold to the various parts of him that were swollen and painful. They didn’t have enough packs to put one everywhere at once and he didn’t want Joe running up a tab at the local pharmacy buying more. Things were bad enough without his costing the family money for a well-earned beating.
“I brought you some toast, too, with a little jam on it.”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” He lay on the lumpy couch in the slaves’ lounge. Sleep had eluded him and it wasn’t just the bruises on his torso that made his stomach queasy.
Mary tsked and sat on the coffee table. “You need to put something into your stomach or all that ibuprofen will make you sick.”
“I killed him,” he said in way of an answer.
With a big sigh and a shake of her head, the older woman said, “No, you didn’t. First off, we don’t know Master’s dead. No news is good news, I say. Second, even if he is or does die, it wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was.” He would never forget the look of utter fury in the master’s eyes as he’d vented on Oliver.
Body Slave Page 13
