Page 23 of Body Slave

On the morning he left, the master fucked Oliver long and hard, as if trying to make sure Oliver didn’t forget him while he was away. Afterward, he showered while Oliver packed his bags. Then he surprised the slave by removing the chastity device. With a harsh squeeze of the newly freed cock, he tossed the thing into the sink in the bathroom.

“Clean that up and put it away below,” he ordered Oliver. “You’ve been wearing it too much and your cock’s looking a bit chafed. I don’t want to have to spend money on a doctor for you needlessly.”

“Yes, Master.” Oliver tried to sound contrite, as if it had been his idea instead of the Master’s to keep his dick caged for days on end.

There was a knock on the door and Joe stepped in to grab the bags. The master took one more moment to check himself in the mirror. Slapping Oliver hard on his rump, he gave a final warning. “Behave yourself. If I hear one thing from anyone about your behavior, I’ll beat you bloody.”

“Yes, Master.” He kept his gaze down, his voice demure.

“And, remember, you sleep in the slave quarters while I’m gone. You’re only allowed the privilege of my bed to be handy when I want to fuck you.”

“Yes, Master.”

Jeez, like he was some newbie slave that didn’t know his ass from his elbow. Maybe the trip made the master more nervous than he’d let on. Then again, what difference did it make? A few more seconds and he’d be gone. Then all Oliver had to worry about the trip was that it be successful, because if it wasn’t, only one person would bear the full brunt of that disappointment. He shuddered visibly. Good, perhaps the master would take that as a sign of his fear of the man and leave off with the unnecessarily redundant orders.

Oliver had no more thought it and the man strode out the door. With a sigh of relief, Oliver went back to the bathroom to do his chore.

****

It took only one day for Ben to truly appreciate how hard his parents had worked all his life. With his father out of town, it fell on him to run the ship and he was determined to do a good job. Despite his growing misgivings about the man, Ben accepted the duty of running the business well. His father, sister, and employees were counting on him. So were the slaves for that matter, even though he wasn’t supposed to care about them. Still, he dragged his ass back home Friday night with the faint hope the weekend manager wouldn’t need him for anything. He had intended to eat dinner, read in bed for a while, and make an early night of it. That was the plan right up until he walked his dishes into the kitchen and saw not only Mary’s unspoken disapproval, but Oliver.

The slave sat at the table, finishing his dinner with the others, nothing out of the ordinary. Yet he caught Ben’s attention, nevertheless. Desire flared instantly, waking Ben’s body up in all the wrong places. The smart thing would have been to stick with his original plan, adding a little self-gratification in between the book and sleep. Fancy business degree notwithstanding, his brain failed him utterly, shutting down and pushing all rational thought aside. Of course, to be fair, most of the blood had drained out of it. Placing the dishes on the counter with more clatter than he intended, Ben turned to leave before anyone could spot the growing bulge in his pants.

“Popcorn in the family room, please, Oliver,” he called over his shoulder.

Christ, that was such a bad idea on so many levels. Ever since The Kiss, as it had grown to be in his memory, he’d resolved to stay away from the slave. No good could come from fueling the attraction growing between them. His attention could only serve to piss his father off even more, and it wasn’t fair to let Oliver think of Ben as any kind of savior.

And still, there he was, picking out a movie, and listening for the sounds of bare feet tripping down the hall with the ordered snack. He decided on a comedy, The Hangover. Stupid fun, just what he needed after the strenuous week. A few laughs and a couple of beers would help him unwind, and if he had a pretty slave boy to look at from time to time, one he didn’t touch, where was the harm? Yeah, that was convincing. Before he could change his mind, however, those footsteps approached and Oliver stepped inside the room with a large bowl of popcorn and a wary expression.

Ben couldn’t help but grin. God, the guy was adorable. With his master gone, he wore a simple T-shirt and jeans, the clothing just tight enough to show off Oliver’s fit body. Overriding need crowded out doubts over his decision. Even if Ben couldn’t touch that body, he desperately wanted it next to him. He stood and gestured at the coffee table.

“Put it down there, will you?” He walked to the minibar Mary had been stocking now that he used the room regularly. “What would you like to drink?” He pulled out and opened a bottle of beer for himself and looked over at the slave.

Oliver had done as ordered, but looked at him uncomfortably. “Um,” was all he got out.

“I want you to stay and watch the movie with me. Cola?” he offered given that the boy didn’t state his preference. When Oliver nodded in assent, Ben grabbed the can and brought both drinks back to the couch. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, sir.” The slave’s discomfort at being served by him was obvious.

Too bad. Ben liked doing things for Oliver. He sat and cued up the movie. “Sit,” he ordered when the guy didn’t move on his own. But when Oliver dropped to his knees, Ben chided himself for forgetting his father’s idiotic rule. “No, I mean up here with me.”

Skeptical blue eyes peeked up at him.

“My father’s out of town, remember? When he’s gone, I’m the master and I want you to sit up here next to me. Okay?” Patting the cushion next to him, he stared the reluctant slave down. Finally the boy did as he was told, although he sat gingerly on the edge.

Well, it was a start anyway. Ben settled back and started the movie. Sucking down his beer, he willed himself to relax. There was no agenda here. So long as they both enjoyed themselves watching the comedy, it would work well enough. It didn’t take long, either, to sink into the wild plot and forget stresses of the week.

He finished the first beer and got up to get another one, pressing Oliver down by the shoulder when the slave tried to do it for him. That simple touch was electrifying and while he knew he should feel guilty about it, he just couldn’t work up the energy to. He started to get another soda for Oliver, but noticed the boy had only been sipping at the first can. So he brought back a soda water with lemon instead. When he swapped out the drinks, the slave’s grateful smile gave him a bigger buzz than the alcohol.

Working his way through the second bottle, Ben stole glances at the boy sitting next to him. So beautiful and more relaxed than he had ever seen him. Having a movie night with his father gone had been the right call. There was no chance the older man would come storming in, no worry of the slave taking another beating for daring to enjoy himself.

Oliver had accepted the invitation to eat the popcorn, too, and occasionally treated Ben to the sight of his licking the salt and butter off his slender fingers. It was sweet torture to watch, and Ben stored away the memory for a time later when he could pull it out and use it as a safe fantasy.

A more poignant undercurrent infused the scene, though. When he laughed, Oliver looked even younger than usual, innocent. Except he wasn’t. The world had made sure he knew the harsh reality of his life, chapter and verse. Barely out of childhood, yet he had been forced to grow up in a matter of months. Other people may have started it, but Ben’s father continued it, and Ben himself sat there with the lurking need to do it, too. What was the matter with him? Why couldn’t he leave this boy alone?

Sensing the scrutiny, the slave turned to him. “Sir?” he asked tentatively.

A few seconds ticked by where they stared at each other. Then shaking his head, Ben said, “Nothing.” He turned back to watch the movie before an idea struck him. “Here,” he said holding the bottle in front of Oliver. “Have some.”

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