Page 11 of Body Slave

He hoped Ben thought he’d shaken from fear. He cringed with embarrassment at the idea that his infatuation was obvious. Obviously Ben didn’t feel the same attraction. Otherwise, he would have used Oliver when he’d had the chance. Wouldn’t he? There was no reason for a freeman to forego something he wanted. No law that stopped it other than the command of an owner, and the master had sanctioned the use. Nope, no way the young master had any interest in him, which made Oliver’s obsessive ogling pathetic as well as pointless.

With a long groan, the master turned over, forcing Oliver’s attention away from the pool and the man in it. Thank God the master had made Oliver drape a towel over the man’s middle for the massage because it had had the usual effect of arousing him. When the master relaxed onto his back, his hard length tented the cloth. Oliver knew what to do, of course. He slid one hand underneath to grasp the cock. His master let out a low moan.

“Be discreet, boy,” he muttered.

“Yes, Master.”

Given the man’s less-than-vigorous state, it took longer than usual for Oliver’s nimble fingers to bring him to climax. While it was all furtive and quiet, it seemed impossible that Ben would not know what was going on if he chose to look. He didn’t, thank God. Oliver had the mess cleaned up and a new cover over his master’s loins before his son finished his laps and hopped out of the pool. He glanced briefly at Oliver before drying off.

The master’s phone broke the quiet of the day. Reaching over to the nearby table, Oliver grabbed the thing and handed it to him. “What?” the man barked. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he added, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the massage table.

Oliver just managed to jump out of the way and busied himself with chugging down half the bottle of water he’d been allowed to bring with him. With one ear, he listened to the master berate some employee of his, while he casually stared off across the pool. He was most definitely not watching Ben rub a towel down one finely muscled calf and then the other. Oliver’s breathing became rapid, but that was just the effect of the heat. It had nothing to do with what he wasn’t looking at. Nothing at all.

“Son of a bitch!” The master stood and grabbed the robe he’d worn outside. He wrenched it on with angry jerks before Oliver had a chance to help him.

“What’s up, Dad?” Ben sauntered over, toweling his hair.

“I have to go into work for a little while. Some shipment came in damaged, and the idiot Sunday manager didn’t check it before signing the bill of lading. Now I have to go bust the wholesaler’s balls over it and I want to see the damage for myself before I make the call.” He started for the house and then stopped after two steps. “This is why I need you,” he said, pointing at Ben. “Between your mother and me, there was always someone at work who knew what they were doing.”

A pained expression crossed Ben’s face. “Dad.” There was a kind of pleading in his voice that Oliver didn’t understand.

“Never mind.” His father waved a hand at him. “We’ll talk later.” When Oliver started toward him, the master shook his head. “Stay here, boy, and give my son a massage.”

“Yes, Master.” He kept his voice as toneless as possible, terrified that his excitement would show through. He was going to touch Ben after all. The thought made his cock twitch, but he didn’t care. Let it strain and throb all it wanted. Any discomfort was worth it to be able to run his fingers across all of that tantalizing flesh. If he were really lucky, the massage would have the same effect on Ben as it did the master, and Oliver would have his chance to make Ben even happier.

Oliver turned to Ben. “If you would please lie down, sir?”

Ben didn’t respond for a few seconds. When he did, he cleared his throat first. “Ah, that’s okay. I don’t really feel like having a massage.” Before the disappointment could sink in, though, he added, “You look like you’re broiling. How about we have a swim instead?”

The idea of frolicking in the pool with Ben was incredibly appealing except for one little problem. “I, um, can’t swim, sir.”

“Seriously? Haven’t you ever been in a pool before?”

“No, sir.” He hated admitting it because he didn’t want to disappoint the man. But honestly when would he have ever had the chance to learn? His birth master hadn’t had enough money for a private pool and probably wouldn’t have allowed Oliver in it if he had. The public pool hadn’t allowed slaves to swim, either. He and his sister had been lucky that the city had put aside a small patch of ground in the park for slave children to play in. It had been nothing like what the free children had, of course. No jungle gyms, no swings, unless you counted the old tire tied to a tree.

“Well, come on, then. I’ll teach you.”

Oliver’s breath caught when he dared to look up at Ben to gauge if he was serious and saw an enthusiastic smile. Before he could respond, reality hit him upside his head. He dropped his gaze. “Um,” was all he managed before Ben sighed with exasperation.

“Hold on,” he ordered and dashed over to the intercom attached to the house by the sliding doors. “Hey, Dad?” he called into the box.

“What?”

Oliver winced at the angry sound of his master’s voice.

“Do you mind if I teach Oliver to swim?”

“What the fuck do I care? Just don’t let him drown. He cost me a shitload of money.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of him.”

Ben grinned broadly during his walk back. Oliver couldn’t help but return the look. He didn’t care about the swimming part, although that might be fun to do if he were ever allowed to use the pool again. Being with Ben, close to him, made Oliver happy. Maybe learning to swim meant Ben putting his hands on him.

“Come over to the shallow end,” Ben said with a wave. “We’ll start with the basics: floating.”

Oliver followed him as he descended the steps into the pool. The water felt deliciously cool against Oliver’s hot skin. Just standing in it up to his knees, swirling his fingers through the water was enough of a pleasure to suit him. But Ben coaxed him farther in until they were both about waist high.

“Okay,” he said, turning to stand next to Oliver. “Bend backward until your head touches the water then relax and lift your feet up.”

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