Disclaimer: I don't own the characters presented in this story, they belong to the talented me_ya_ri who gave the okay for me to post my attempt at playing in her playground.
Warnings: Slavery, Non-Con, Underage, M/m, Abuse, Murder, Piercing, Nothing too Graphic But it is there...
Word Count: 3,577
Note: This story is follows the life of a slave boy from me_ya_ri's fic Genius. You must read that story first before you can understand this story. The plot bunny struck after I read it and I didn't stop until it was written.
Summary: Fourteen years after his birth, he was the sole witness to the act that saved the world for the second time.
He never knew who his father was, just that it was one of the raiders who killed the previous king so King Ashton could assume the throne. He never knew his mother because she died moments after he dropped from her body. He almost never knew himself because he was born when food and water were still in low quantities and bastard children such as him were left for dead.
The maid that raised him never told him how he came to be hers, just that a kind soul decided there had already been too much death in the world and that an innocent baby should have a chance at life. While she never pampered him, he knew that in her own way she loved him just as he loved her. He would have been content to spend his life in her footsteps, but it was not to be.
At the age of ten, he learned his true place life. He learned that he was a slave and as such he had no say in what fate befell him. King Ashton, with the assistance of his well-known slave Merton, began construction on ultimate symbol of his rule, an extravagant palace. As sections of the palace were completed, slaves were pulled from all areas to staff the great structure. At some point, he caught the King’s eye and before he could understand what had happened, armed guard had grabbed him by each arm and taken him into the depths of the partially built palace.
That first day passed in a blur as he was stripped from his meager clothes and scrubbed so hard with soap, water and a bristled brush that he thought his skin would peel off. Once his keepers were satisfied with his cleanliness, he was groomed and dusted with items he had never seen before. Some of them tickled slightly as the brushes feathered over his skin and that earned him several hard hits to his ass.
After he was properly painted and scented, an ancient looking man with wrinkled skin and shaking hands moved toward him with a very sharp needle. He tried to in vain to pull away and it only cause his keepers to laugh at him as they held him in place. The pinch of the needle passing through the skin of his nipple brought tears to his eyes. It only worsened when the shaky hand moved lower and repeated the process on his naval. When the hand made another decent for his groin, he openly sobbed.
What seemed like hours later, he found himself looking down at his now unfamiliar body. Little rings of gold rested coolly against his chest and what could only be a diamond was nestled in his naval. Continuing down, he whimpered at the sight of the golden ring on his small penis and the chain that he could feel running to another ring near his anus. The guards had said with a laugh that they should have just cut everything off and be done with it. They told him the chain was loose now, but wouldn’t be when he grew a little more. They also said the chain was permanent and that thought left him hollow inside.
He had been left in a room with several other boys of varying ages who were all in a similar state to him. Each of them, himself included, were wearing wrist and ankle cuffs with attached chains that kept from being able to move faster than a fast walk. There was no chance of escaping the new life he had been suddenly thrust into.
He sat quietly in what he considered his corner until a new person entered the room. This one wasn’t a guard, yet he walked with the air of someone who didn’t have to worry about making the wrong move. It wasn’t until he looked into the older man’s eyes that he saw what had to be sympathy swirling around. He only saw it for a second before the eyes turned away from his and he tried to focus on what the man was saying.
“For some unknown reason, the Master saw fit to have me indoctrinate you to your new position in life. I don’t have time to wipe your noses and tell you that everything will be perfect for you. It won’t be perfect. You’ll be directly serving the Master, King Ashton, or the members of his High Council and the head guards. They have complete access to you at all times, and that includes sex. If you disobey any direct orders or step out of line in any way, you will be severely punished or even killed.”
As the man took a pause in the speech, he looked around at the other boys in the room. They had varying states of emotions on their faces, from open sobbing to anger to silent resignation. He judged his own emotional state at somewhere between anger and silent resignation to his fate. If he fought against it, he would be killed. He had heard stories of what happened to those that disobeyed their King and he had no urge to die a painful and public death.
Soon his focus was drawn back to the man as he continued their introduction into a new type of slavery. “You will be expected to take care of your daily cleaning needs unless ordered otherwise by whomever lays claim to you. You will be staying in this room tonight and in the morning will be presented in court for the sorting. Expect to be fondled, scrutinized and questioned before the actual selections and bidding on you begins. The King will make his selection first and most likely allow a few of his close confidents second choice. After that, the remaining council and guards will bid upon the rest. I suggest resting, because in a few hours the guards will return to escort you to the chambers.”
The door closed behind the man and they all jumped at the sound of the heavy door bolt sealing their fate.
The next day passed by quickly as he was the second boy selected by the King himself. The first boy had been an older one, roughly sixteen, that had looked like a younger version of the man who spoke with them the night before. Before the other boys were doled out to their new owners, he whisked up the recently completed staircase to the King’s personal chambers. There, the other boy was placed on the enormous bed with his hands cuffed to rings set in the ornate headboard. He shuttered at the thought of what that position meant before the guard was wrapping a piece of silk cloth around waist that was secured with a thin, silken belt.
The material barely covered his decorated penis, but it left him feeling more secure than he had since he had been taken the day before. The cuffs on his wrists and ankles were left, but the chains linking them were removed. Then a golden chain was locked around his neck and a little charm with the King’s crest dangled in the hallow of his throat. He was then told that his new duties were to serve the King in whatever manner he was ordered. He was to have the proper food and beverages from the serving area on the side of the room when asked. He was to provide clothing and jewelry when asked. He was to be silent and invisible otherwise.
He was placed on his knees on a small pillow in darkened corner of the room. He was told that was his place and he was to be there unless serving the King or using the slave cleaning facilities. He was only to leave the room when taken at designated intervals by the guard. The room would be his prison.
The rest of the night passed in a blur as he listened to the muffled cries of the older boy as the King fucked him. He tried to block out the pleas of the boys broken voice as he begged for the King to stop, but it was impossible. He didn’t watch the rape happen, but the sounds provided his minds eye with a vivid picture what would eventually happen to him. When he heard the King’s grunted completion mingled with the boy’s muffled tears, he almost his first order from his new Master.
“Slave! Boy! Bring a wet cloth and clean me off!”
With shaking hands and unsteady legs, he managed to find and dip a silk cloth into a basin of water and carry it to the bed. He didn’t look up as he tried clumsily to wipe the cloth over the King’s softened penis. He shuddered at the sight of how large the organ actually was, even in its flaccid state. The thought of it pushing into his ass or anyone else’s made his hand freeze in his action. He regretted it instantly.
He felt pain and blind panic in the same instance when the King’s large hand wrapped over the chain at his throat. As he struggled for breath, he burned the King’s words into his mind.
“You will do as you are told boy. I took you for my own because Merton was always fucking interested in you from the day that little whore of the idiot who claimed to be the king before me dropped you before she dropped dead herself. Merton’s never been good at hiding things from me. I do not know why he was interested, but now he knows better than to be interested. He won’t risk doing anything to cause me to take my anger out on you. Now, you better learn how to clean my cock with a cloth, because you may to young for me to fuck right now, but I could put that mouth to use for cleaning if you can’t do it with a cloth.”
The hand unclamped from his throat and as he took several deep breaths, he began to slowly run the cloth over the King’s flesh. He didn’t understand half of what the King had said, but he knew that he had better do things right or death wouldn’t be far away.
Days turned into weeks, which merged into months and swiftly became years. In the blink of an eye, he had been the King’s bedchamber slave for roughly four years. During that time, the King had never used him sexually, outside of cleaning up after other sexual activities. The boy that had been fucked that first night had been gone for years and replaced by several others. Two years before, a concubine had tried to use him and she met the sharp end of the King’s sword. After that, no one would touch him save the guards that chained him before escorting him to the cleaning rooms.
He never spoke, but he always listened to what was said and not said in the private rooms of the King. The conversations that kept his attention the most as he sat on his corner pillow were when Merton was in the room. It had taken him months to learn that the man who talked with them that first night was the same man that developed the water system that had saved everyone. The man was a slave himself, King Ashton’s prize slave.
He was puzzled at first when the King never took Merton his bed like just about anyone else that entered the bedchamber. He knew that Merton had belonged to the King for years, from before the King had become King. But it shocked him to learn that Merton and the King did not interact sexually, or if they did, it was not in the King’s bedchamber. In a way, he figured that the first boy had been a substitute for Merton.
He recalled the first speech the King had given him and tried to picture Merton as someone who had been watching him. He could not recall ever seeing the man before that first night in the palace, so he never could determine if the King might have confused him with some other boy. But every once in a while, his eyes would meet Merton’s across the room and he would see that look of sympathy once more before it was closed off. He knew the King would see those brief looks Merton sent his way and each time it happened, the King’s face would take on a harder and closed off expression.
And one night, the King finally snapped.
The King was a heavy drinker at night and each year he got progressively worse. The night that changed the world found the King on his way to a drunken stupor, but he kept bring more beverages as the King commanded.
In a respite from the fetching, he settled on his pillows and didn’t look up until the King ordered the concubines to leave the room. Then his heart all but stopped when he heard the King’s order beckon him forward.
“Get over here on the bed boy! I’ve got a special night planned.”
With his legs shaking like the first night he had received an order from the King, he made his way to the bed with his head bowed. He gasped for breath he couldn’t get when the King’s hand wrapped around his throat in a tight grip.
“You’re going to go over to the serving tables and prepare my wine. But you will wait until Merton enters the room before you bring it to me. Once you reach the bed, I’m going to grab you and fuck you bloody while Merton watches. I’m tired of him thinking you shouldn’t belong to me when he went and saved your worthless life as a baby. He’s my fucking just like you and you both need to learn your fucking places. Now get over there and wait like the good little bitch you are.”
With that, he found himself slung partway across the room before he found his balance and was able to catch his breath. By the time he reached the counter and picked up the wine bottle, he was shaking so bad he figured he would spill the liquid. In four years, his virginity was still in tact, but it seemed tonight he would lose that last piece of himself. And he knew it would be painful.
When Merton walked into the room, he barely registered their opening conversation.
"Master," Merton said, bobbing his head in as much of a bow as he ever gave the man. "You wanted me?"
"Never wanted your scrawny ass," Ashton said with a drunken slur, "just your brains. Mine."
"Of course, Master," Merton said with a tired sigh.
He didn’t really connect with anything until Merton patted his head and gave him a little push to his corner pillow. He moved all too willingly in the opposite direction of the bed when Merton took the glass from shaking hand. He took his place on his pillow and wished desperately that the King would fuck Merton and leave him untouched on his pillow.
He didn’t look up until he heard Merton talk about killing the King. When he did, the most gruesome site he had ever seen his young life assaulted his senses. Everywhere he looked was red with the King’s blood. Merton was standing over the motionless body with an eerie calm and a bloody knife, the murder weapon, in his hand.
He did the first thing his mind could think of, he ran. He had not been out of the bedchamber on his own since being brought there, but he found himself rushing from the room as fast as his legs could carry him. He was only a few feet outside when a guard grabbed him by the chain collar and pulled it tight. His air was cut off and he slumped down in the guards hold.
“You’ll be executed for running boy!” the guard hissed at him.
He just looked up at the stern face with wide eyes and spoke for the first time in years.
“He killed the King.”
It was barely a whisper, but the guard evidently heard and he was left forgotten in a heap on the floor. People rushed by him the rest of the night and he didn’t register any of it. All he could think of as he sat on the stone floor was the King’s dead body soaked with blood and Merton’s face as he looked down at what he had done. He knew that killing King would sentence Merton to death, but he wished that the man could be spared. He had unknowingly saved him from being raped and, if the King was to be believed, was the reason he was even alive to begin with.
It was hours later before a guard finally noticed him sitting in the hallway and he was picked up and taken to a room and locked inside. A day passed before anyone finally checked on him. Once he had been cleaned and fed some soup, he was taken before the King’s right hand man, Lucius.
Master Lucius asked him many questions that started with when he first started serving the King and ended with what occurred before and after Merton entered the room. He told Master Lucius everything and found his throat hurting from talking at the end. He had spoken more in one hour than he had in the four previous years of his life.
When it was over, Master Lucius had him sent to a different suite of rooms. Inside, he found his pillow waiting in a corner and curled up on the familiar softness to fall into a deep sleep.
He woke with a start when he felt a strong hand carding through his hair. He was rarely touched and the strokes from the hand sent shivers coursing through his body. When he whimpered, the hand pulled away and he opened his eyes to see the eyes of Master Lucius looking down at him.
“You will be mine now,” Master Lucius told him slowly. “There will be much change in the next few weeks, but you will stay in these rooms much like you stayed in Ashton’s. Only you will not leave to go the slave cleaning areas. You have permission to use the bathing room connected through the side doors. You are the only witness to the King’s murder and I will not allow you to be in a place or situation where others may speak with you. You are not to speak with anyone outside of myself. Is that understood?”
“Yes Master,” he responded quietly. He had left one prison for another, but at least this new Master had not grabbed his throat yet. There was hope.
Master Lucius absently fingered the charm on his collar before speaking again. “I will have to find someone to change this somehow. If I am to become King, I cannot have Ashton’s crest adorning my personal slave.”
The Master’s hand left his collar and slowly traced over his pierced nipples, giving the rings a slight tug. The feelings of the Master’s hands running over his body was both torturing and exciting him at the same time. He had never felt this way before and it confused him. He could feel his penis responding to the touches and began to blush violently at the thought of being aroused. Then he heard his Master chuckle above him.
“Looks like Ashton left me something good behind for all the shit of his I will have to clean up. How about you hold those thoughts boy and in a few weeks when things quiet down I’ll see what good you will be to me.”
Then the Master was gone and he was left alone in the room with his pillow and a feeling of confusion and loss. The touch from Master Lucius had been so different that he found himself wanting more. As a slave, he knew it wasn’t his place to want, but in the confusion of the last few days, he figured he could be forgiven for one slip up.
It was a few weeks before the Master actually interacted with him again. He had returned to the chamber by mid-morning and he looked worn. The Master slumped on the bed and beckoned him over to remove his boots. He could see some blood spattered across the toes of the Master’s boots and he frown at the sight. He almost jumped when he felt the Master’s hand descend onto his head and begin petting his hair.
“That blood belonged to Merton,” the Master said quietly. “He was beheaded for his crime against the Crown this morning.”
He said nothing as he leaned into the hand petting his hair. His breathing picked up as the other hand began toying with the rings on his nipples.
“Merton asked something of me before he was taken to the block. He asked me to make sure you okay. I think he was giving you to me. Do you know why he would?”
He looked up at the Master and studied the drawn face. “Merton saved me Master,” he said softly. “More than once,” he added as an afterthought.
“He saved everyone,” the Master said before pulling him onto the bed. “He saved everyone.”