Page 30 of Body Slave

“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. Oliver 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.

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