Page 10 of Body Slave

After a few seconds hesitation, the slave accepted the drink and took a small sip. When he tried to give it back, Ben shook his head. “No, have some more.”

A somewhat larger pull of the soda passed the guy’s lips before he again tried to hand it back. “Thank you, sir, but if I drink too much, I’ll have to pee. The master may not want me to leave to go to the bathroom.”

Ben frowned. “But there’s a bathroom right there you can use now if you want,” he said pointing to the half bath off his father’s den.

“I’m not allowed to use that one, sir.”

Having no easy answer to that, Ben accepted the can back. Of course, the talk of peeing also made him glance down at the lovely cock trapped in the metal cage. “Does he ever take it off you?” he heard himself ask.

Oliver’s eyes followed Ben’s gaze and nodded. “Yes, sir, every few days or so. It makes it easier to wash it and the master likes me clean.”

Yeah, Ben just bet he did. His father had always been a fastidious man. Ben thought it grotesque to keep the slave’s dick in lock-down for days at a time. Poor guy probably never got a chance to get hard or come. Not that he should be thinking of any of that, because, again, eew. Any coming would be with his father.

To take his mind off sex and who was having it with whom, Ben sat back and patted the couch cushion next to him. “Come sit up here.”

Oliver fidgeted, but otherwise didn’t get up. “I’m sorry, sir,” he finally said. “I’m not allowed on the furniture in the family’s rooms.”

Except my parents’ bed. Fuck, he really needed to stop thinking about that. “At least sit your butt down. There’s no need for you to kneel.”

Again, it took the slave a moment before he did as told, as if always weighing the need to obey and the worry of doing something wrong. Eventually, he gracefully sat cross-legged by Ben’s feet. When the guy wiggled almost imperceptibly, Ben wondered if it was just as uncomfortable to have to sit his entire ass down as opposed to just his knees. How could he know, given that no one had ever made him do either with no clothes on?

“Is that better?” He’d become practically desperate to give the boy some kind of respite and feared he was making everything worse in his earnestness.

Oliver’s gaze flicked up for a second. “I’m quite comfortable, thank you, sir.” Ben heard a faint, yet discernible, seriously? in his tone.

God, Ben felt like a complete idiot. “Sure you are,” he replied, not even trying to hide his skepticism.

“I truly am, sir. This is a really soft carpet.” He traced his fingers across the pile by his thigh. “And thick.”

Okay, so maybe Oliver’s disbelief at Ben’s inane questions had more to do with how good Oliver thought he had it and not how bad. Ben took another swig of cola and studied the slave while he continued to run his fingers over the carpet. From his higher angle, Ben could see that the collar his father had placed around the slave’s neck was pretty tight. Without thinking it through, he leaned over to touch it. Oliver started at the unexpected contact, but didn’t pull away. The skin along his collarbone felt smooth and soft. The slave stayed absolutely still as Ben stroked along the bottom of the metal links.

With effort, Ben made himself sit back. Touching the slave was too tempting. “The collar’s too tight,” he said in a gruff voice that masked his growing interest. “You should tell my father so that he can loosen it.”

Again, Oliver’s gaze flew up to look him in the eye before dropping again. “Yes, sir, I’ll do that.”

But in that moment of time when their eyes met, Ben had seen the truth. The slave would never speak of it with his master. It wasn’t fear, either, that had shone through. It had been resignation, telling Ben that Oliver believed the collar was deliberately tight. Sadly, Ben wasn’t in a position to assure him otherwise. Damn, his father had always been strict with the slaves. Had he always had a mean streak in him, too?

Before Ben could fill the next awkward silence, a perfunctory knock on the door invaded the silence. Vince popped his head in. “All done?”

Ben jumped up and rearranged his crotch as if he’d just zipped up his pants. He plastered another fake smile on his face. “Yup.”

Vince strolled in with a matching smile that seemed far more genuine and enthusiastic. “Great, I’m tired of losing my money to your father, so I thought I’d have another go at the kid. He’s got some mouth on him, doesn’t he?”

Ben couldn’t bring himself to look down at Oliver as he replied, “He sure does.” Walking toward the door, he passed his father’s friend and accepted the locker-room-style slap on the back.

He hadn’t intended to look back, but like Lot’s wife, he proved to be too weak to resist. When he turned to shut the door behind him, he watched Vince plop down right where he had been. Oliver had already risen back to his knees and uttered no word of protest when the older man grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled the slave’s face into position. The man’s dick, already out and waiting for Oliver’s mouth, disappeared in a single swallow. Ben’s cock twitched at the flashing idea that Oliver’s lips could be wrapped around it instead.

Disgusted by his own thoughts, Ben closed the door and walked away.

****

Oliver caught the drop of sweat from his brow before it had a chance to fall on the master’s back. The day was hot, too hot to be giving a massage outside. For the first time, he appreciated having no clothes on. The master’s skin was slick also from the heat and from his body’s effort to expel all of the alcohol he had consumed the night before. Oliver had found out quickly that a hungover master meant a cranky one. Fortunately the man lay on his stomach, quietly surrendering to his slave’s careful ministrations. This massage served to soothe only, so it took little effort. With the master’s eyes off of him, it also gave Oliver a chance to watch the show going on in the pool without worrying about being punished.

Ben swam laps, his strong, lean body cutting through the water with seemingly effortless strokes. It was mesmerizing, and with no one to catch him at it, Oliver stared at the sight even as his fingers mechanically did their job. God, the young master was beautiful. He had come outside wearing nothing more than tight swimming briefs, and had given Oliver a quick wave before diving into the water. A frisson of desire had snaked up Oliver’s body with just that small acknowledgment from the man. His mind played over and over the few fantastic minutes he had spent in Ben’s company the night before.

He thought of the man as Ben, too, just as he’d been given permission to. As long as he only said the name in his mind and was very, very careful never to say it out loud, it would be okay. It seemed impossible that the man had shown such kindness to him. When had any free person in his life ever been concerned about his feelings?

Ben had given him some time to rest and had shared his own drink to soothe a throat already sore from all of the face-fucking. Even as it had happened, Oliver kept waiting for Ben to grab him and use him the way the others had. He had been both disappointed and excited in equal measure when Ben first asked to use him and then when they sat alone in the den. He hadn’t wanted Ben to act like the others, and yet the idea of taking Ben’s cock in his mouth aroused him. Even the small contact of Ben’s hands circling his wrists had made him tremble.

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