The Slave

4-10-01

Neil carefully descended the cement steps that led down into the dank basement, feeling out of place in his dressy coat, shirt and slacks.  He was a tall, thin man of about 30, with short, curly, light brown hair, bushy eyebrows, and drooping blue eyes.

            The unpleasant odor of the dimly-lit basement assaulted his nostrils as he reached the floor and he wrinkled his nose distastefully.  A short, pudgy man with a bad complexion and greasy blond hair greeted him before he could step forward into the gloom.

            “Why are you here?” he demanded suspiciously.

            “I desire a personal slave.”

            “Very well then.”  The man’s voice became friendly and he led Neil forward.  “Here they are, they’re the finest that our suppliers could kidnap, they are.”  The slave-dealer swept his arm in a grandiose gesture that encompassed a row of five young men.  Each one had his wrists bound behind his back and a leather collar around his neck.

            “See one that suits your fancy?” the man asked as Neil squinted in the dusty light. 
“This one ‘ere is in very nice shape--”

            “What about this one?”  Neil pointed at the last slave in the row, who looked to be in his mid-20s, standing with his head down.  His tight tank top and jeans hinted at a body that was in good shape but not overly muscular, wiry but not too thin. 

            “Ah, that’s Chris.  He’s a bit shorter than some of the others, but he’s got a lovely face.”

“Let me take a look at him.”

The slave-dealer grasped Chris’ chin and roughly tilted his face up into the feeble light.  The young man met Neil’s gaze with startlingly intense brown eyes and then quickly looked away, his stare returning to the grimy floor.  His cheekbones were pronounced and his jaw, shadowed with a day’s worth of stubble, was strong but not angular.  His dark, arching eyebrows were drawn together in a slight frown.

Neil circled the slave, gazing appraisingly at his profile, the way his nose turned up at the end ever so slightly and his mouth pouted sullenly.  His hair was dark brown, in contrast with his fair skin, and cropped very short on the sides and back of his head, with longer waves on the top.  Overall, Chris was quite good-looking.

Neil ran his hands over the young man’s chest, grasped his firm buttocks, nodded with approval, and moved his hands around to the front.  A flush spread across the slave’s pale cheeks as Neil felt him up.

“Isn’t he darling?  He’s very quiet, and always does as he’s told.”

“I’ll take him,” Neil decided, fishing in his coat pocket for his wallet.  The slave-dealer clipped one end of a heavy chain leash on to Chris’ tight leather collar and handed the other end to the older man.

“Come, Chris,” Neil said, pulling slightly on the leash, and the slave trudged toward him, his gaze downcast.  He led his purchase up the stairs, out the back door of the supposedly abandoned building, and into the tiny parking lot that was well-hidden from the public view.  Once in his car, he drove Chris to his sprawling house in the suburbs and led him into his lush bedroom.

Leaving the slave’s wrists bound, Neil removed the leash from the collar; Chris stood quietly on the deep red carpet as the older man admired his new possession.

“Look at me, Chrissy,” Neil murmured, lifting the young man’s chin with a gentle hand.  Chris’ dark, deepset eyes pierced into Neil’s blue gaze.  The tired circles and slight puffiness under the young man’s eyes that hinted at maltreatment in the hands of the slave-dealer failed to diminish the intensity of the stare.  Neil thought that he detected an accusation in Chris’ sullen pout but the young man averted his gaze again.

Neil stepped toward his slave, pulled him against his chest, and covered the soft mouth with a hard kiss.  Chris felt deliciously warm and firm against him, the young man’s muscles tense with surprise at the sudden show of passion.  Neil hungrily explored the slave’s wet mouth, caressing the hot flesh of the exposed arms and shoulders.  Chris let out a low moan, the first sound to come from him since Neil had bought him.  The older man pulled away for a breath and was transfixed by the sight of Chris’ partially opened mouth, his wet, flushed lips, his heaving chest.  He guided the slave toward the lush bed and shoved him down into the white sheets and pillows; unable to catch himself because his wrists were still bound behind his back, Chris fell forward onto his face.  Neil pounced on top of him, pinning him down.  He nuzzled the back of Chris’ neck and grabbed his butt, his nails catching on the worn denim.

“I guess I’ll have to untie you so that I can get your shirt off,” Neil realized aloud, and he pulled the cord from his slave’s chafed wrists.  Chris lifted his face from the pillows, flushed and gasping for breath.  Neil flipped the young man over with a rough shove so that he lay on his back.  The older man admired the way Chris’ tight tank top clung to his well-defined chest and nearly flat stomach; the slave was in much better shape than he was himself.  “We’ll have this off as well,” Neil murmured, straddling the young man and yanking the shirt off over his head.  He seized Chris’ wrists and pinned them to the mattress while he covered the slave’s neck and chest with hungry kisses.  The young man breathed rapidly through his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut, as Neil’s lips moved down his torso to the line of dark hair that disappeared under his jeans.  He gasped and bucked his hips as Neil released his wrists and squeezed the bulge revealed by his tight pants.

“Ooh, you’re hard, Chrissy,” the older man giggled, increasing the pressure until Chris thrashed his head from side to side on the pillow and moaned.  “You want it, don’t you?”  Not waiting for an answer, Neil unbuttoned Chris’ jeans and slowly lowered them over his narrow hips, pulled them off, and threw them to the floor.  He admired the muscle definition in the slave’s legs, stroked the warm insides of the young man’s thighs, and lunged at him.

Chris let out an uncharacteristic cry as nails raked the length of his bare torso, hard enough to draw blood.  Neil pinned him down with his greater size and sucked at the skin on his throat and the underside of his chin; when the older man lifted himself up, his white dress-shirt was spotted with crimson.  Sweat trickled down the slave’s face and neck and body, mingling with his blood.  Neil yanked him up by his collar and gave him a long, hard kiss that left him with a bloody lip.

Chris’ eyes opened again at the unexpectedly gentle touch of Neil’s hand on his groin.  The man caressed the slave’s thighs, sending shudders through him, and then slipped inquisitive fingers under the waistband of his black boxer-briefs.  Chris moaned and thrust his hips at the hand fondling his burning erection.  Neil’s gentle fingers explored the young man’s tight testicles, and then the sensitive space behind them; Chris inhaled sharply when Neil stuck a finger into him.

“You like that, Chrissy?  How about this?”  The older man dug around in the dresser next to the bed, retrieved an object, and then slid Chris’ underwear from his hips.  Kneeling between the young man’s legs, he lifted them and bent them backward, exposing the slave’s bottom.  Chris grunted when Neil pushed the dildo in, then whimpered when the man rammed it deeper.

“You like that?”  Neil stopped when Chris’ wide eyes glistened with pain; a tiny trickle of red ran down the young man’s thigh and marred the immaculate white sheets.

“Are you all right love?” Neil asked.  The slave was a mess, his heaving chest and half-open lips smeared with blood, his hair plastered to his wet forehead, his eyes squinting and watery.

“Y-yes,” Chris replied in a low, husky voice.

“Good.”  Neil tossed the dildo onto the floor and lowered himself next to the young man, undid his slacks, and rolled Chris onto his side so that his back was to Neil.

Then the older man curled himself around Chris’ back and entered him from behind.

            “Unh.”  Chris grunted as each thrust tore at his wounded backside.  Neil pulled him against himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his slave’s ribs, his fingers in his chest hair, one leg lifted over Chris’ hips.  He could feel the young man’s hot, damp flesh through his clothes, could feel his pounding heart, and he thrust harder, faster, slamming into him, impaling him.  His own heart beat against his ribcage and his breath grew ragged with the feel of Chris’ tight, tight warmth clenched around his erection, with the sound of Chris’ pained moans, and with one final convulsive thrust, he squeezed his eyes shut, crushed his partner against his chest, bared his teeth, and released himself deep inside of his slave.

            “Uh.”  Neil rolled onto his back, slipping out of the young man, who remained curled on his side.  He gazed blankly at the ceiling as he tried to regain his breath.  “Ah, that was good, now, wasn’t it, Chrissy?”

            “Please, no more,” Chris whispered, his voice rough and shaky.  Neil’s semen trickled down the back of his leg, stained with blood.

            “Oh, Chrissy, please forgive me!  I am so inconsiderate!”  Neil reached over and pulled on the slave’s shoulder; Chris rolled limply onto his back.  “Here, is this better?”  He gently stroked the young man’s hardening erection and was rewarded with a twitch.  The older man giggled and wrapped his hand tightly around the hot shaft, sliding his fingers up and down as Chris’ breaths grew sharp and rapid.  With his other hand, Neil caressed the slave’s tightened testicles and the damp space behind them, drawing a gasp from the young man, who bucked his hips and curled his fingers into the blood-stained sheets.  He bent his head back, biting his torn lip and squeezing his eyes shut, his muscles tight and rigid, and Neil felt Chris’ erection spasm in his hand as it spurted hot fluid all over the young man’s stomach and chest.

            Chris fell back with a shaky sigh, releasing the sheets from his straining grip.  Neil bent over and licked the semen from the young man’s fading erection, drawing a sharp cry from the slave.  He glanced hungrily at Chris’ flushed, exhausted face; a second erection throbbed almost painfully as he thought about the feel of those moist, soft lips down there….

            “Look, Chrissy, you made me hard again.”

            Chris opened his eyes partway; Neil kissed him softly on his split lips, his arousal increasing with the coppery taste of Chris’ blood. 

“Now I want you to blow me.”  The older man pulled his open pants and underwear off and sat up.  Grabbing Chris by his hair, he pulled the slave’s head into his lap.  “Go on.”

Despite being exhausted and sore after Neil’s rough handling, Chris was true to the slave-dealer’s words and did as he was told.  Neil tangled his fingers in the young man’s short, wavy hair and forced his head up and down, thrusting deep into Chris’ deliciously warm and wet mouth.  It didn’t take long for an orgasm to shudder through his body and he pulled out of Chris’ mouth at the last second, spurting into the slave’s face.

            “Oops, sorry about that!”

            Chris raised an unsteady hand to his face and wiped the sticky, burning fluid from his eyes and mouth.  Neil stretched out languorously beside him.

            “Now that was fun, wasn’t it, love?  Let’s get in the shower and get you cleaned up.”

            “Oh…right.”  His tired gaze downcast, Chris rolled wearily to the edge of the bed and stood, his shoulders slumped.  His face, chest, and legs dripped with a mixture of sweat, blood, and semen.  Snapping the leash onto the slave’s collar, Neil yanked on it and Chris stumbled after him, into the large master bathroom.  The room was immaculate, white tile and tasteful gold trim, a hot tub and a huge shower stall with clear glass doors.  Neil took his sweat-stained shirt and Chris’ leather collar off so that the two of them were entirely nude, guided the slave into the shower and followed him in.

            With the water so hot that it steamed up the glass walls, Neil tenderly caressed the young man and rinsed the grime from his wiry body.  He pulled him close, feeling for the first time Chris’ firm flesh against his own bare skin.  Exhausted by the night’s proceedings and the steaming water, Chris leaned his head on Neil’s shoulder and the older man ran his fingers through the slave’s wet hair and along his slippery skin.

            “Poor Chrissy, so tired,” Neil murmured.  The hot shower brought a flush to the slave’s skin and reddened the welts where Neil’s nails had grazed his torso and drawn blood.  “Poor thing.  Why don’t you come to bed with me?”  He turned off the water, dried himself and his partner, and led the young man back to the bed.

            Chris collapsed among the lush sheets and pillows and was out in seconds, his bare sides rising and falling rhythmically.  Neil gazed at his sleeping slave, at the hollows under his high cheekbones, the slight crease between his slanted eyebrows, the way his lips remained just the slightest bit parted in the middle, showing a glimpse of white teeth.

Neil curled himself around Chris’ bare body and fell asleep that way.