Date: Sun, 4 Jan 2004 17:47:12 EST
From: OneSillyRat@aol.com
Subject: SLAVE TO LOVE

This story deals with sex among males.  If you shouldn't be reading this,
don't.  It's a fantasy, set in a time when sex was safe.  It isn't now, so
don't be a risk to yourself and others.  Always play safe.  The copyright
for this story lies with the author.

A Special Hug and Thanks to my friend Tim Mead without whose help and
encouragement I couldn't have done this.  He's my muse, my proof-reader,
and a very patient man.

Greetings to my other friends from the Nifty Six: Patrick, Evan, Ash, and
Mickey.

I like to hear from readers, so don't be shy!  --Tom

Onesillyrat@aol.com

SLAVE TO LOVE


RIKK:

I hadn't eaten in days.  They didn't bother force-feeding me.  Not yet.
They didn't mind if I was a bit thin.  But they made me drink some water
every day.  They didn't want to lose their nightly entertainment, or their
means of revenge.

Well, I had been the one unlucky bastard who'd got caught when we came to
steal their women away, one day in the fall, two years ago.  We were just a
bunch of younger sons from various regions, who had done what our ancestors
had been doing for ages.  Only this time, we obviously had chosen the wrong
village to attack.  In the stories that were told at the campsites, the
women had followed our fathers only too willingly.  Here it had been
different.

The second we emerged from the woods, somebody had rung the friggin' alarm
bell, and the men had come running back from the fields, much too soon.
Yet we had managed to grab a gal each, and were on our way out, when I got
hit over the head.

The first weeks I had spent chained over a barrel, not able to move.  I
slept on it, got fed on it, got fucked on it.  For a while I thought, and
hoped, I'd die, too, chained to that barrel.  Only I didn't die.  But I
came pretty close.  At least it felt that way.  I tried to starve myself to
death twice.  They just waited till I was weak enough, and then stuffed
food down my throat, like I was a goose.

Weeks later they freed me from that barrel and put me on a chain that they
fastened around my right ankle.  They warned me about resisting, though.
One wrong move and I'd be back on the barrel, this time forever.  I never
resisted.  When somebody entered the hut to fuck me, I got on hands and
knees and offered him my ass.  Or my mouth, whatever they wanted.  I
desperately wanted to die.  It was the only thing I could think of.

I left the hut twice during all that time.  To celebrate the anniversary of
my capture.  On those occasions I was raped by every man in the whole
village.  The second time was seven days ago.  I could take a lot by then.
Yet they'd managed to fuck me raw.  The following days they let me recover.
It took a while till I had full control over my sphincter again, though I
always had tried to train that peculiar muscle.  I used lots of that
stinking salve they provided me with, but was still a bit tender back
there.  At least the pain was gone.  This morning, they inserted that mean
plug in my hole, preparing me for the night to come.



RAGEN:

The village was deserted.  The peasants had fled, wisely.  In the last two
hours my men had gone through the small cottages and collected everything
that might prove valuable or useful.  It was a small heap, and mostly food.
A few copper coins, some furs.  One man, rather terrible to look at, clad
in a threadbare, skimpy robe.  He seemed to be of medium size, and rather
thin, but other than that I could tell nothing about his looks.  He was too
dirty.  Smelled something awful, too.  Bolgar had found him chained to a
pillar in a hut at the edge of the village.  A prisoner, maybe?  Who else
could he be?

No time to deal with him now.  Together with the other spoils he was bound
to a horse, and we rode on.  When we made camp in the evening, I ordered
two of my men to clean him up and bring him into my tent.  As they returned
with him, they were grinning broadly.

"What's the matter, men?  Has he told you a joke?"

One of them held a longish object into the air.

"We found that thing in his ass!"

It was a wooden dildo, crudely made, with a ridge that would make sure that
it stayed where it was put.  Looked quite uncomfortable.  The prisoner
showed no reaction, his gaze was directed down to the ground.  He had dark
hair, and his skin was very pale now that he was clean.  Could be he had
spent a long time in that hut.  I put a finger under his chin, lifting his
head.  His eyes were blue, and there was no expression in them.  Not really
empty, no, more like guarded.

"On your knees," I ordered.  He obeyed instantly, and knelt there, waiting,
his head bowed.

"Suck my dick."

Without the slightest hesitation he opened my pants with nimble fingers and
got my hardening cock out.  He took it all.  I wondered if he would be able
to do that when it was fully erect.  Well, I'd see.  His mouth was warm,
wet, and silky, his tongue smooth, working my pole diligently.  He bobbed
up and down on it expertly, without the least bit of teeth, and when it had
reached his full length, he took it into his throat easily.

I grabbed his head, not too roughly, showing thus my appreciation, and
began fucking his throat.  His throat muscles really worked me.  It didn't
take long, and I came, my dick buried deep in his throat.  Ah, lovely.
Very well done indeed.

"I'll keep him for a while," I told the pair, who'd enjoyed watching that
little scene.  "Put him in chains, and then you can go."

I'd be back for more later.  All that pillaging had made me hungry!

Munching on a lamb chop, I let that day pass again before my inner eye.
All in all, it hadn't been that bad.  None of my men had been hurt, and we
could use those blankets and provisions.  And I really looked forward to
seeing more of my prisoner, to trying out his ass.  He'd sucked my cock so
well, had to have had lots of practice.  I wondered how he'd react when I
fucked him, if he would get hard, and decided then that it didn't matter.
When I strolled back to my tent I even brought some meat and bread that I'd
give him afterwards.

My men had chained him up good.  Hands behind his back, feet together,
ankles and wrists connected with a quite short chain.  I unlocked them, and
he stretched his limbs tentatively, groaning a bit.  After a short while he
got to his knees, and waited.

"Undress me," I said.

He wasn't very good at that, but he tried.  Probably those villagers had
kept him as a sex-slave only, always chained in that hut.  His build would
have been nice, if there had been a bit more meat on his body, and some
more muscles.  Well, he'd get them, working for me.

We were both naked now.  I asked if he needed to piss or anything.  He
shook his head no.  All that silence on his part unnerved me.

"Bilari's guts!  Can't you speak?"  I hollered at him.

He flinched and recoiled from me.  I went after him.  "What?!"  I shouted.
"Can you or can't you?"

Trembling all over, he took a deep breath.

"I can speak.  I'm sorry, master.  I wasn't allowed to, before."

His voice was rough, unsteady.  I could tell this was difficult for him.
He must have been punished for talking, and punished hard.  The multitude
of scars on his back left no doubt about that.

"Well, you're allowed to talk as it befits a slave," I told him
magnanimously, throwing him a challenging glance.

"Yes, master," he replied, eyes again downcast.

"On your knees!  Suck me!" I ordered.

He obeyed immediately, taking my already hard cock down his throat in one
go.  He WAS good at that!  Then I ordered him on hands and knees, and
prepped him fast but thoroughly, using some of the olive oil we'd acquired
today.  It was obvious that he had learned to relax his sphincter.  There
were some minor scars where he had been torn.

I knelt down behind him and aimed my tool at his hole.  Slowly I pushed in,
all the way.  He offered no resistance, but he was tight enough, his inner
walls soft and hot, massaging my cock.  I fucked him leisurely, for a long
time.  He never made a sound.  That annoyed me a bit, so at one point I
gave him a punch to the kidneys, which elicited a short gasp from him.  At
the end I sped up and really slammed into him, and when I came it was
explosive.  I let my slave bear my weight for a while, till he started to
tremble under me.  Then I pulled out and stood up.

I cleaned myself up first.  When he was done I gave him the food.
Afterwards I allowed him into my blankets to keep me warm.  I felt relaxed,
comfortable.



RIKK:

He's sleeping.  Should I kill him now?  And then what?  Steal a horse, run
away?  Where to?  I'm so weak.  Finally, finally I'm out of that terrible
hut.  So far this has been much better.  He didn't hurt me.  That one punch
- laughable!  After what I've been through he seemed nearly tender,
considerate.  He even prepped me, put oil in my hole.  I guess I'll wait
for now.  Try to shape up.  I'll have to see that he keeps me for himself.
If he gives me to his men, I'm dead meat, so I'll have to prove useful to
him.  Somehow.  If only I weren't so weak.  So tired.  I slept.

The next morning I changed my opinion of my master pretty fast.  That
asshole didn't let me ride, no -- I had to jog along behind him on a leash
which was held by that big muscled animal that seemed to be his second in
command.  He was the one who'd gotten me out of that fucking hut.  Bolgar,
was his name.  The ground was stony, and my bare feet hurt from the first
step.  And I became tired unbelievably fast.  I'd been confined for so
long, and the pace wasn't exactly slow either.  After a while my feet were
killing me.  I expected to see raw meat when I looked down, but they looked
much better than they felt.  It took another eternity until Bolgar shouted
at Ragen, "He's had enough!  Look at his feet!"

Ragen turned around and scrutinized me derisively.

"Oh, already?  Sooner than I thought.  But then I guess he's spent his time
more riding than running lately!"

How his men laughed at that!  I had to grind my teeth to keep my face from
showing the hate that ran through my body like a heat wave.  But Ragen had
already turned his gaze away.  Bolgar hadn't.  For a moment I was afraid
that he'd seen through my facade.  Then his icy stare changed into a lewd
smile, and he winked at me suggestively.  I swallowed.  Took a step back,
winced.  Shit, my feet hurt!  Grinning he gave my leash a little tug.

"Maybe you should get down on your knees for a bit, might be easier on your
feet..."

He tugged again.  I stumbled, but stayed upright.  Helplessly I stared up
at his bulky figure, then at Ragen for help.  Only, that asshole was
grinning, too.  If they made me suck Bolgar now, it would be a question of
a few hours till I would have to serve the rest of them, I thought.  And I
felt so weak.  Way too weak to fight.  Resigned, I sunk to my knees,
waiting for it to begin.  Bolgar directed his horse toward me, past me, to
Ragen's side.  I couldn't hear what they were saying.  I assumed they were
discussing who'd get what of me.

"We're taking a break, men.  Eat something, and rest a bit!"  Ragen
shouted.  Wow, they wanted to party.  And I was going to be the main
course.  I couldn't help it, tears were streaming down my face, I managed
barely to suppress my sobs.  Yet I stayed on my knees.  This would be hard
enough without additional punishment.

Everybody got their blankets and provisions out.  Ragen waved me over to
sit with him.  On my other side was Bolgar.  Both offered me bits of their
food.  But I felt too apprehensive to eat.  They exchanged glances.  Then
Ragen said:

"Relax, nothing will happen just now.  Bolgar was merely jesting with you.
Eat and rest!"

So I ate, drank some water, and got more tired the longer I sat there.
After a while things were wrapped up.  Bolgar reached for my hand and
pulled me to my feet.  I nearly screamed, they hurt more than before.

"I think he's done with walking," Bolgar said.

"He can ride with you," replied Ragen, "I'll take your stuff."

There it was again.  Ragen was giving me away.  And to that big brute!
That one could break me in two easily.  Unhappily I let him help me to sit
behind him.  I tried not to touch him, but that was impossible.
Reluctantly I held onto him.  We reached higher terrain fast.  I'd gathered
that we were heading for a mountain pass.  As we got higher, the
temperature dropped, and I huddled closer to Bolgar's warmth.  After all, I
was wearing only that long shirt, so my legs were freezing.

At one point he must have noticed my shivering, or maybe the chattering of
my teeth was disturbing him.  We made a short stop, and he asked one of the
men who was about my size for trousers.  Also he gave me socks and boots.
When I attempted to mount the horse again, he made me sit in front of him,
and wrapped me up in his cape.  At that point I didn't mind.  I was so
frozen, tired, my feet hurt from walking, my ass from riding, that I let
him hold me gladly.  In the end, the rocking, even gait of the horse lulled
me into sleep.



BOLGAR:

What a frail creature he is, Ragen's new slave boy.  So delicate, so
defeated.  So quiet.  He never said a word the whole time.  And he obeys so
willingly.  Obviously tries to be good.  Has to be dead afraid of what
might happen otherwise.  Who knows what those villagers did to him?  He
feels good in my arms.  I wonder if Ragen would share him.  Why not?  He's
done it before.  We're friends.



RAGEN:

What a lovely picture, that big bear Bolgar holding the little cub!  Looks
right somehow.  Not much of a man, my new slave.  But so accommodating.
Can't wait to slip into him again.  Ah, tonight!  I'll have him lick me all
over, and then I'll fuck him.  And I'll take my sweet time doing it.

We rode on, and it got colder still.  There were about two hours of
daylight left, and one hour to go to a sheltered place we had used two
years ago.  It's really only an overhanging rock, no more, but it will keep
most of the wind and snow away.

We reached it in time, and I had the men set up the camp.  The space was
pretty much limited, our group had been smaller the last time.  Bolgar rode
up to me, the sleeping slave still in his arms.

"Ragen, there isn't room enough for all the tents.  Should we split up?"

"I'd rather not.  Let the men share, if possible, and you and I take your
tent.  Mine is just too big.  There'll be room enough if we don't put it
up."

Bolgar nodded his assent.  Then he shook my slave awake.  There was pure
terror on the man's face when he saw who held him, but only for a second,
then he schooled his features back to the expressionless mask they usually
bore.

We had him help us to erect the tent, and then went for food, leaving him
to arrange the bedding.  That was when he realized that Bolgar would spend
the night with us.  And the terror in his face was back.  It was obvious
what he was afraid of.  He thought I'd share him with Bolgar, and maybe
even with my men, so that he was everybody's whore.  Surely that was what
had happened at the village.

When we returned with bowls of stew he had put the furs and blankets out,
and was sitting on the naked floor, shivering.  What a miserable creature,
I thought by myself as I gave him his bowl.  I detest weakness.  But when I
remembered how soft and pliable he had felt under me, I couldn't despise
him.  Nor could Bolgar.  Just the opposite.  I waited for him to make up
his mind.  It was after we had eaten, that he did.  Good that he waited
till then, or my nervous slave wouldn't have gotten his food down.

"Ragen," Bolgar said, "I'd like to have a go at this guy.  Would you mind
sharing him tonight?"



RIKK:

`No!  No!'  my mind screamed.  But my body stayed quiet, except for the
trembling.  But that was from cold.  Or was it?  I wanted to search Ragen's
face for his reaction to that question, but didn't dare to.  He didn't keep
us waiting for long.

"We'll see about that, my friend," was his enigmatic answer.  He continued,
"First take him outside, let him clean himself and the bowls.  Show him
where to get hot water for us."

So that animal dragged me out into the cold, ordered me to undress, and
rubbed me down with snow.  He even took a handful and worked my genitals
and asscrack with it.  I gritted my teeth to keep from yelling at that
treatment.  It fucking hurt, my cock shriveled up to nothing.  Even worse,
after that ordeal he led me naked as I was to the fire with all the men
around it, to get the sodding hot water.

Back in the tent I felt slightly safer.  Ragen had a small fire burning.
Still I felt ice cold.  Ragen held a beaker of warm spiced wine to my lips
and made me drink it all.  Immediately I felt warmer and slightly dizzy
from the alcohol.  Then they undressed, and I started washing them, as best
I could.  First Ragen.  After all, he was my master.  He wasn't much taller
than me, but his shoulders were so much broader, and his arms and legs so
muscled that I felt like a boy beside him.  And his stomach, hard, rippling
with muscles, no fat at all.  His obvious strength made me shiver.  And
there were still areas I had to wash.  His impressive cock, which by now
pointed towards me, red, and angry.  And his crack.  I was unsure about
that.  Was I allowed to touch him there?  Would he punish me if I did, or
if I didn't?

Probably he'd punish me anyway if he felt like it.  So I dragged up the
remnants of my courage and made short work of his private parts.  When I
was done, Bolgar stepped in front of me, a huge grin in his face, his
equally huge tool waving at me.  If I'd thought Ragen big, this man was a
giant.  A Nordic god, with his long reddish blond hair, and pale skin with
golden fuzz all over his chest and a trail down to his golden pubes.  A
bear of a man, but his skin was surprisingly soft.

When I was doing his back and they couldn't see my face, I closed my eyes
for a moment and just enjoyed touching him.  My heart was racing, my head
spinning from the wine.  It burned in my stomach.  Of course, I hadn't had
alcohol in two years.  Bolgar felt vibrantly alive under my hands, and that
combination of utter strength and baby-soft skin really got to me.  Yes, he
was beautiful.  They both were.  And dangerous.  And I was completely at
their mercy.  So I wrapped up that little moment and hid it deep inside me.
I proceeded to finish Bolgar just as matter-of-factly as I had done Ragen.
For a second our eyes met.  His green ones were piercing me.  I could read
desire in them that he didn't bother to hide.  I guess we both knew in that
moment that sooner rather than later he'd have me.  I'd better resign
myself to my fate.

Afterward Ragen had me build one big bed of all the furs and blankets.  He
lay down on it and pulled me with him.  Bolgar followed.  Instinctively I
backed away from him, into Ragen's arms.  Oh, how warm his body was, in
relation to mine!  That was good!  I snuggled closer.

"I think your slave doesn't like me," Bolgar said.

"Be glad," Ragen replied, "he's an icicle right now."

"We must warm him up then," Bolgar murmured suggestively, and inched
closer.

Soon I was framed between two warm, hard bodies.  I was lying on my side,
my back to Ragen, so that his erect cock pressed into my crack, while I
watched Bolgar like the rabbit watches the snake.  He was so close, I
started to squint.  A shudder ran through me.  I closed my eyes.  He moved,
and his cock touched me.  Of course he was hard.  As if on command, both
began to buck into me.  By now I was feeling very warm.  After a while
Ragen stopped the bucking motions and oiled my hole.

"Tell me when you skewer him," Bolgar whispered, "I want to watch his eyes
when you do it!"

"Ready . . . now!"  Ragen whispered back.

"Open your eyes, slave!  Look at me!"  said Bolgar.  "Look into my eyes!"

I did, and our gazes locked.



BOLGAR:

Damn, this is hot!  These big, helpless, desperate eyes.  He has no trouble
taking Ragen, I can see that.  It doesn't hurt him at all.  Wonder if he
could take me just as easily.  Don't think Ragen will let me, though, not
tonight.  But this is good, too.  Not letting go of the slave's eyes, I
jack my rigid dick.  Suddenly he gasps, and makes a funny sound, something
between a squeal and a sob.  Bet Ragen just hit his nut.  And again.
Ragen's obviously keeping his angle.  I grin at him, and he grins back,
twinkling at me.

`Make him come?' I mouth, and he nods.

So I let my own cock go.  My body protests, but I really want to see the
guy come, see him lose himself in pleasure, unwilling though he may be.
With one hand I grab his dick, with the other I fondle his balls.  Of
course he's hard, and slick with precum.  You usually are when someone
bangs your nut.  And he's trembling again.  Does he think I'll hurt him?
Well, maybe it has happened before.  But I won't.  He really looks as if
he's been hurt enough.  I want him to enjoy this.  And I don't want him to
be afraid of me.  Why do I scare him so, anyway?  Must be my size, what
else?  He should be thankful instead, for how I treated him today.

By now he's very hard, and constantly moaning.  Ragen has sped up his
thrusts.  I check with him.  Yeah, he's ready, only waiting for me to make
the slave cum.  I give a little more pressure, concentrating on the
cockhead, while I massage with my thumb the sensitive spot on the underside
of his cock.  And then it happens.  His body tenses up, he wails, caught
between lust and anguish, and warm semen splatters the blankets and my
hand.  I see his blue eyes cloud over and then he closes them.  A shout
from Ragen, and he's cumming, too.  They make a great picture lying there,
panting, depleted.  But now I really need to get off, too.  I roll onto my
back and beat my dick with fast, urgent motions.  It doesn't take me long,
and I follow their example.  With a hoarse cry I explode, firing seven,
eight shots of hot cum, which rains down all over my upper body.

As I open my eyes again, Ragen's slave is watching me, a myriad of
expressions crossing his face.  Sighing, I get up, soak some cloths in the
rest of the now lukewarm water, and give them to each for cleaning up.  The
puppy actually retreats to the tent wall for a bit of privacy.  Well, there
is a difference between cleaning up your dick, or getting rid of cum
somebody shot up your ass.  He is a bit red-faced when he returns to lie
between us.  He moves hesitantly, too, unsure if he's allowed in bed after
the fucking's done.  The fire has died, and it's getting cold in here.  I
know my way around Ragen's things, so I get out warm clothes for him and
the slave, and raid my own pack for my stuff.  Then I lie down, put out the
lantern, and we huddle close together under the furs.  Mmh, this is nice,
comfortable.  Much better than sleeping alone.

"Thanks, friend," I whisper.

"You're welcome," Ragen replies, and I can hear he's smiling.  The man
between us trembles ever so softly, once in a while.

We go way back, Ragen and I, are friends, lovers in a loose kind of way.
Never exclusive, yet always loyal.  I'd die for him, and he for me.  I
wonder if I'll ever get him to fuck me again, now that he has this sweet
plaything.



RAGEN:

Until last night, I was the only one who knew Bolgar's softer side.  Now
the slave does, too.  At least he should know, if he's smart.  I think he
is smart.  Only so very afraid and weak, it keeps him from thinking clearly
at times.  So Bolgar wants him, really wants him.  I'm quite fond of my new
slave, too.  The sweetest ass I ever fucked, and just as hot as my old
friend.  Both of them together, a thrilling combination.  When Bolgar takes
him, I will watch.  It'll have to be soon, as long as the boy still is
afraid of him.  He treats him so nicely, it's a matter of days.  For today
I let him ride with me.  If Bolgar's disappointed, he doesn't show it.  He
keeps close to me, as alert as always.

"Slave," I say to the man behind me, "do you have a name?"

Silence.  Then he clears his throat.  "Yes," he whispers, "my name is
Rikk."

He sounded close to crying.  The way got more difficult.  Sometimes we had
to lead the horses.  At noon we reached the top of the pass.  The wind was
cold and sharp, so we dragged on.  We went without break and made camp
early, two thirds down the mountain.  I asked Bolgar if he wanted to join
us for the night, and he nodded happily.  I think I heard Rikk sigh.  But
he said nothing and went about his duties.  He is a fast learner, and eager
to please.  This time there's no snow around and I allow him to use the
warm water after us.  Surprisingly Bolgar fetches the food himself, two
large bowls of stew.  He and I have dressed again, while Rikk kneels beside
me naked.

"He's way too bony," I say to Bolgar, who in return looks at me
questioningly.  So I continue.  "I shouldn't even offer you that scarecrow.
But if you want, you can have his ass tonight."

"You know I want him," Bolgar replies.  "And talking about `bony', why
don't we feed him?"

He holds his full spoon at Rikk's mouth.  My slave hesitates for all of a
second, then he submits and opens his mouth.  Must have realized that it
might be better not to enrage Bolgar.  Alternating, we feed him.  As a
special treat I bring on the bottle of honey and thyme liqueur we found at
the monastery weeks ago, and we each take a healthy sip.  Rikk coughs a
bit.

Then we let him build one big bed while we shed our clothes, and I order
him to lie in the middle of it.  As soon as we're naked Bolgar and I join
him, framing his scrawny body.  He's cold and shivers a bit.  Of course he
feels the cold more.  There's no fat on his body.  And he's afraid, or at
least apprehensive.

"Let's get him warm," I say to my friend.  Bolgar nods.  Together we rub
Rikk's body down.  When the shivering stops our rubbing becomes more
gentle.  We touch him everywhere, and he bears it and doesn't move at all.
He's pliant under our hands, my submissive slave.  I must say I enjoy this.
Our life is rough, as is the climate so far north.  We go on raids, fight.
When we're at home the women have gotten accustomed to having their own way
in our absence.  Peace is rare.  But with this slave, I've found peace.  In
his mouth, that opens so easily for my cock, in his accommodating,
available ass.  No fights, no discussions.  He obeys.  He's mine, at my
mercy.  I'm used to having power, but in this I revel.  I think Bolgar
does, too.  Additionally, Rikk seems to have awakened his protective
instinct.  Bolgar's tender with him, so caring.  I love to watch them
together.  When Bolgar takes him tonight, I might get off just from
looking.

"Let's start the fun," I say, throwing Bolgar the small bottle with the
oil.

"I'll put that aside for later," he answers, a fire gleaming in his eyes.
Then, to Rikk:

"On your back, slave.  Knees up and apart.  Hold yourself open."

Rikk complies, with eyes closed.  He's breathing fast.  I can see it's
difficult to hold that position, so I put a folded piece of fur under him.
Bolgar gives me a sweet smile, and I smile back at him.  In that moment I
realize how much I love that man.  Bolgar and I are more than casual sex
partners.  Does he know it?  I search his face for an answer.  He must see
something in my eyes, because now he leans down to me, and I receive a
warm, tender kiss.  And I know.

Bolgar focuses back on Rikk.  Settling down between his widely spread legs,
he pulls his cheeks even further apart.  Then he gives him a long lick all
along his crack, over his pucker, up to his balls, making him gasp.  And
again.  He sucks his balls in his mouth, alternating.  He sucks on them
with relish, bathing them in his spit, while my slave can't suppress his
moans any longer.  His cock isn't fully hard yet, but it's nearly so.  Full
and heavy, but not rigid, it lies on his belly, moving up and down in the
fast rhythm of Rikk's breathing.

With one wet lick Bolgar leaves Rikk's marbles and moves a bit down, and
without further ado he starts plunging his tongue down that inviting chute,
hard and fast, eliciting the most interesting sounds from my slaveboy.  In
spite of himself Rikk pushes back at him, at first barely noticeably, but
after a while he loses all his restraint and bucks wildly under Bolgar's
ministrations.

Suddenly my friend stops.  My slave looks up at him, eyes wild, his whole
body bathed in sweat.

"Shall I fuck you now?" Bolgar asks him, sweetly.

To my surprise, Rikk nods.

"Say it!" Bolgar commands in a soft, tender voice.  "I want to hear you say
it, slave!"

"Fuck me," Rikk whispers, and there's need and desolation fighting on his
face.  I let go off his legs and put one arm under his neck instead,
cradling his head.  With the other hand I turn his face toward me, so I can
kiss him.  He opens up to me immediately.  As our tongues touch I feel the
vibrations of his moans.

By Bilari, this man has a sweet mouth!  Welcoming.  He responds to my
kissing, his tongue never leaving his mouth.  Out of nowhere a hand grabs
my straining cock, holding it in a deathgrip.  I look up.  It's Rikk's
hand.  I can imagine he needs something to hold on to, because Bolgar's
giant weapon's there, red, hard and angry, glistening with olive oil,
waiting at his entrance.  Just as I look, he starts to press in.  Rikk's
sphincter gives, and gives.  I know how he must feel!  That cock always
takes me to my limit!  Ever so slowly, but without pause, Bolgar enters
that accommodating hole.  When he's completely inside, both of them sigh.
Just as slowly Bolgar pulls out again, leaving only the head of his weapon
inside.  Rikk hisses, moans, his body goes absolutely rigid for a few
seconds.  Our gazes meet.  The tight hold my dick has been in changes into
a milking motion.  So good!  I return the favor, and he gets rock-hard in
no time.  Now Bolgar begins a slow fuck.  Slow, but relentless.  All the
way out, all the way in.  Rikk moans, bucks, shudders under the assault but
never stops jacking me.  Sometimes his eyes are closed, sometimes he looks
at me.  Never at Bolgar.  Why does he resent him, but not me?  My friend
notices it, too.

"Look at me, slave," he growls, slamming extra-hard into Rikk's chute.  He
has to do that several times, until finally my slave obeys.  I'm jacking
him faster now, too.  So Bolgar's eyes burn into Rikk's, and he speeds up,
and suddenly they both cry out and come.  That picture's so incredibly
erotic, it brings me over the edge, seconds after them.  My cum splatters
on Rikk's stomach, mixing with his own.  Bolgar pulls out of him, and we
take the slave between us and spread the cum all over him.

"Thanks for sharing," Bolgar whispers.

"He's sweet, isn't he?" I reply.

"Yes, very," my friend agrees.

"You want him?"

Rikk stiffens between us.  Anxiously he implores me, "Please master, don't
give me away.  I beg you.  Please.  I'll be good, I promise!  I'll always
obey you!"

"I know you will," I assure him.  "I'm not talking about giving you away.
Bolgar, what I'm trying to say is, I liked what we did now, and last night.
I wonder if we could come to an agreement, sort of."

Bolgar listens to me attentively.  "Go on," he encourages me, while he
absent-mindedly continues massaging the cum into Rikk's skin.

So I do.  "I have the feeling you really like my slave."  He nods.  "I'm
willing to share him with you, but..." I have to pause, this isn't easy for
me.  Having taken a deep breath I rush on.  "Bolgar, I don't want to lose
you over him."

Bolgar closes his eyes, and smiles slightly, shaking his head.  My stomach
churns.

"Ragen, if I had to choose between the two of you, I'd always take you over
him.  You're my friend, my brother, my lover.  He's just a fucktoy, though
a lovely one."



RIKK:

"...just a fucktoy..." I should have been desolate to hear it spoken that
way, but the only feeling I could muster was that of immense relief.  For a
moment I had thought Ragen would do it, give me away to Bolgar.  Alone his
size had made me fear him, even if he never hurt me.  Now, after that
remark, I was doubly glad I belonged to the other man.  Maybe to him I was
a bit more than a mere commodity which would be discarded when it became
boring.  I wondered how long it might take for me to recover some strength
and get in better shape.  Weeks, probably.  If they continued to treat me
well.  For now I was completely dependent on their good will.

Lying close to me, one on my right, one on my left side, the two powerful
warriors fell asleep.  I must admit, I didn't feel like "just a fucktoy"
when Bolgar took me tonight.  They were both so tender and caring with me.
Like they -- cherished me?  I must be imagining things.  Wishful thinking,
maybe?  That's rich!  I, wishing to be their lover?  When hell freezes
over!  I wanted to be free and never see them again!  Go home to my family,
my friends!  I wanted to decide who fucked me!  Oh, Bilari's guts!  Forget
that.  I was tired, not thinking clearly.  The dried cum on my skin itched
like a bitch.  Still, I fell asleep fast.

I was awaken roughly.  Somebody pulled me upright, screaming into my ear.
Felt like Bolgar.  It was dark, I couldn't see anything.  But it was his
voice, telling me to -- run?  Suddenly there was a fire outside.  I heard
men yelling, the clashing of swords.  Something soft and heavy was put in
my hands.  "Take the fur," Bolgar screamed, "and hide!  We'll come and get
you when it's safe.  If we don't come, go home!  Run, dammit!"

He gave me a push and I ran, the fur pressed to my body.  There was
fighting everywhere, but Ragen's tent was at the edge of the camp, so I was
out of immediate danger fast.  The flames in the camp were growing higher,
I could see boulders in front of me, lots of them, an ocean of rocks.  I
scrambled over them, between them, as fast as I could, which wasn't too
fast.  I was still weak, and the fur lay like lead in my arms.  Also, it
was getting darker and darker the further I got away from the camp.  When
it felt as if another step would kill me, I collapsed where I was standing.
Panting and wheezing like a woman in labour I spread Bolgar's fur out.
There was something wrapped up in it -- the pants and the long shift.  I
put the things on, then I cuddled up inside the fur.  My body was hot and
sweaty from the exertion, and without the fur I'd sure have gotten at least
a terrible chill.  The sounds of fighting seemed to come from far away.
There was no way for me to tell what was going on at the camp.  What was I
to do?  Bolgar said they'd come for me, didn't he?  I was relieved to know
that.  Then it dawned on me, that I was here, alone.  Free at the moment.
I could just go and run away!  As soon as I'd have gotten my breath back,
anyway.  Yeah, and break my stupid neck in the dark.  No, I'd have to stay
put.  For now anyway.  The reasonable thing to do would be to get some more
sleep.  Yes, I'd try to sleep.  Didn't think I could though.  But I'd try.
I cuddled up some more inside the fur.  It was warm and cozy, and it
smelled like Bolgar and Ragen, even a bit like me.

I awoke to a grey dawn.  Milky fog lay all around me, and it was eerily
silent.  I was hungry, but not cold, thanks to the fur Bolgar had given me.
What the hell had happened?  Why hadn't they come yet to fetch me back?
Maybe they were waiting for the fog to lift?  What if they didn't come?
What if they were dead, or taken prisoners?  He said I shouldn't go back to
the camp alone.  In fact, he'd told me to go home.

Well, there was no choice anyway.  Not with the fog.  I huddled under the
fur and slept a bit more.  When I awoke the next time, the fog was gone and
a pale sun lit the sky.  I was terribly thirsty, so I let a bit of snow
melt in my mouth.  Not too much, I'd heard one could get stomach pains from
that.  The sun rose higher, and I was still in that place, waiting.  I
couldn't be that far from the camp, could I?  My progress in the darkness
must have been slow last night.  Shouldn't they have come looking for me by
now?

But nobody came.  The sun reached its zenith.  I couldn't wait any longer.
I had to get back to the path anyway.  I wasn't sure about directions, but
remembered that I had run mostly uphill last night, so I opted for down
now.  I walked for some time, and hoped I was getting closer.  But I
couldn't hear a thing that would indicate human presence.  There was only
the screeching of birds.  Pretty loud they were, too.

I looked up.  Shit!  Those birds were vultures!  And they were gyrating
above the place where our camp had been.  Oh Gods!  A dreadful sense of
foreboding filled me, and I ran, stumbled toward the camp as fast as my
feet would carry me.  There was a lump of something between two boulders.
I was already past it, when I recognized the thing.  Ragen's backpack.  I
picked it up and threw it on my back.  Then I hurried on.

I reached the camp.  One glance was enough to tell me no one was alive
there.  The place was scattered with bodies, the sickly sweet, coppery tang
of blood permeated the air.  I went from corpse to corpse with growing
apprehension getting more and more afraid of finding Ragen and Bolgar among
the dead.  There were so many corpses.  Some with terrible wounds, some
obviously had been slaughtered after their capture; their hands were still
bound.

I didn't find them.  They had to be alive, then.  I fell to my knees and
cried.  For the dead, for Bolgar and Ragen, and for myself.  Never in my
life had I felt so lost.  Around me, the vultures continued picking at dead
eyes.  It was sickening.

Finally I shook myself out of my stupor.  What was I to do now?  I had to
get away.  I needed a weapon, food, water.  Clothes!  Damn.  I absolutely
needed something for my feet, they were hurting bad.  Gingerly I began
searching the bodies for useful stuff.  I found several pieces of warm
clothing, but neither food nor money or weapons.  There was one corpse I'd
been reluctant to touch.  It just smelled and looked too awful.  He lay
half under a collapsed tent, had a terrible gut wound, and his innards were
spilled all over the ground.  I searched him, the bile rising in my throat.
And I found a dagger!  As I fumbled to unfasten the belt with the scabbard,
the corpse moaned!

In terror I jumped back at least two feet.  How could the man be alive with
that dreadful wound?  Then he even started to move!  An arm came up toward
me!  An arm with black skin!  Oh kindly powers, what had I done?  Was that
man turning into a demon before my eyes?  Was this his revenge for
disturbing his rest?  I retreated from the body, shivering with fear.  The
body moved some more, and more black became visible.  And I realized that
it was not the corpse, after all, that was turning black!  It was someone,
or something, that had been lying hidden under the tent and the dead body.
Now it stood up.  It had to be a demon, it was as dark as the night.  Its
clothes were torn to rags, with blood and slime all over them, and Gods, it
stank!  And it came closer, and it reached for me!  I stumbled backwards,
away from it.  And landed flat on my ass, as my foot caught on a rock.
Ouch, dammit!

The demon's eyes got big and round.  Then it started giggling maniacally,'
till it was whooping with laughter.  Its laugh was that of a boy, and now
that I really looked at it, its body was that of a boy's too.  Only he was
black, and the dark cloud around his head was curlier than any hair I'd
ever seen.  His giggling was so infectious, I just had to join him.  Once I
started I couldn't seem to stop.  I hadn't laughed like that in a long long
time, and I hooted and whooped till I felt quite weak.  It took a
tremendous effort to stop it.  For the boy, too.  `Cause he had to be a
boy.  I'd never heard of giggling demons.  Whatever he was, he was human,
and he was a child.

"Who are you?  What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"My name is Malik," the boy said.  He gave me a close look, and continued,
"I was the property of this stinking bastard for the last three years.  I
tried to escape during the attack yesterday.  When he" - he pointed at the
corpse - " was hit he fell on me and crushed me.  I think I hit my head,
too.  Hurts a bit.  Who're you?"

"I'm Rikk.  I was a prisoner of the group that was attacked.  Do you know
what happened with the survivors?"

"They'll have taken them.  Probably they'll sell them as slaves.  It's what
they do.  Why do you want to know?  They're gone, and you're free now.
That's what counts."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Sure I am.  Only problem is, we still gotta get down this friggin'
mountain.  Let's make use of the daylight, and hurry up and get away from
this cursed place."

I could only agree.  All these bodies, the smell of death, the vultures, it
really gave me the creeps.

"Okay.  I've already gathered clothing for myself.  You should get cleaned
up and do the same, Malik.  In the meantime I'll pack a tent and blankets
for us."

The boy nodded and started pulling those awful rags from his body.  I
looked away quickly and got busy.  Since it had been at the edge of the
battle ground, Bolgar's tent had survived the battle unscathed.  I decided
to pack everything that might prove useful from Ragen's and Bolgar's things
into Bolgar's backpack.  Under the blankets I found a little bottle.  I
felt a tightening deep in my stomach.  It was the bottle with the olive
oil.  The oil that Ragen had used to prepare me that first day.  The oil
Bolgar had used to lube his cock with last night.  I clenched my fingers
around it.  There, on my knees between the blankets, I stared at that
little bottle as if it contained all the secrets of my soul.  And I started
to cry.

Suddenly Malik was at my side.  "Rikk, what's the matter with you?"

Yeah, what was the matter with me?  Was I indeed crying for those two men
who had enslaved me?  Who had hurt me?  Used me?  Fucked me?  Yes, and who
had been tender and caring and loving at the same time?  Who had made me
feel so sheltered in their arms... Bolgar's voice came back to me, `I'd
always take you over him.  You're my friend, my brother, my lover.  He's
just a fucktoy...'

I swallowed around the lump in my throat.  "Malik, these two men that owned
me..." I hesitated.

"What's with them?  Shit, are you crying because of them?  You miss them,
or what?  You want them back?  Shit, you're a slave at heart!"

"No, I'm not!  But they treated me well!"

"Well, and?  My master spoiled me rotten!  Still I'm glad the bastard's
dead!  I want to be free!"

"You think I don`t?  But I want to be with them, too."  At this point I was
sobbing harder than before.

"Oh, shit, man.  I don't get it, really!  You know what?  Let's get going,
and you can tell me about those guys on the way, okay?"

Together we fixed two packs, a smaller one, containing Bolgar's tent, for
Malik to carry, a bigger one (with Ragen's tent) for me.  Then we set off.
As we trod down the stony path, I told Malik what had happened to me.  Of
course I didn't tell him all the details, he was just a kid after all.
When I described how Ragen had leashed me to his horse, Malik giggled.
When I described how they had rubbed me down with snow, he laughed right
out.  "Hey, I bet they warmed you up afterwards!  Am I right?"

I nodded.  Color rose into my cheeks as I remembered just how they had
warmed me up.

"You're blushing!" Malik crowed.  "That's so cute!  You've got the hots for
these guys!"

"I don't!  What do you know of these things anyway!"

"More than you, obviously," he muttered under his breath.

I chose not to comment on that.  What would he know?  He was just a kid!
But what a kid!  I just couldn't help looking at him time and again.  For
several reasons.  Of course, there was the color of his skin.  He had
explained that to me.  In his country everybody was dark.  I had asked if
it was very hot there, and he'd said, yes, it was.  Maybe that explained
it.  Then there was the thing with his age.  When I asked he'd said he was
15, which I couldn't believe.  He looked like 12, at most.  Again he'd
explained that his people were shorter.  Now, the last reason I couldn't
keep my eyes from him, was that he was so cute!  The cutest kid I'd ever
seen.  Even in these oversized clothes he'd found for himself.  His eyes
were black as coal, his lips full and red, his hair like the fur of a black
lamb, soft, and curly looking, as if it was made to be tousled and carded.

I was shocked to my core when I realized that my feelings toward this child
weren't fatherly, or brotherly.  Not completely, anyway.  Sure, I felt
protective over him, but that was not all I felt.  I didn't want to dwell
on that.  Hopefully, if I ignored it, it would go away.

During the afternoon the sky had changed from blue to grey.  Wind had come
up and brought clouds with it.  Thankfully we were farther down now and it
wasn't quite as cold as it had been.  The sky was getting darker by the
minute, ominously so.  We decided to look for a suitable place to put our
tent up.  The best we found was a group of crippled firs that grew in the
shelter of a big boulder.  The power of the wind increased, and made our
task rather difficult.  By the time the tent was erected, rain had already
set in.  Just as we scrambled into our tent, the floodgates of the sky
really opened and torrents of rain began to fall.

We had been lucky, but our clothes had still gotten very wet in the
process.  Our teeth were chattering audibly.  It was so cold!

"We can't keep our clothes on," Malik stated.  "I know what to do.  We need
to huddle under the blankets and whatever you got there, and put the
clothes at our feet.  So they'll dry during the night."  He shuddered,
adding, "So, let's build a nest, and get me warm!  I want something to eat,
too!  We've got food, I hope?"

What a spoiled brat!  Sadly, he was right.  I spread out the fur and every
blanket we had.  We undressed, and while I made an effort not to look at
him, I really felt his eyes on me, checking me out.  He wouldn't be able to
see much, as it had gotten quite dark already, but it still made me
nervous.  When I finally huddled into the nest, I was ice cold.  Malik was,
too, like I couldn't fail to notice when he pressed his frozen body into
mine.

"Get me warm!" he whined.  So I put my arms around him, gathered him closer
to me, and rubbed his back with my hands.  We were both trembling with the
cold, and our teeth were chattering.  It took us forever to get warm, and I
couldn't help thinking how good it would have been with Ragen and Bolgar
here at our sides, who were both like furnaces.

"I'm hungry," Malik's voice interrupted my wayward musings.  "What have we
got?"

"Not much.  I didn't find anything in the camp.  We've got only what was in
Bolgar's backpack ."

"Who's that?"

"One of the men whose prisoner I was.  When the attack began last night, he
threw me the fur and told me to run.  And I think he hid his backpack among
the rocks, too, so I might find it."

"Really?  Why should he do that for a prisoner?"

"He wanted me to be safe, I think.  He knows I'm no fighter, and in poor
shape.  He said he was going to come for me when it was over.  But he never
did.  Well, I was his and Ragen's property.  They just didn't want me to be
damaged, is all."

"Still, it was a nice thing to do.  Now check that pack, will you!"

"I'm checking!  There's what feels like old bread, two, no, three apples,
what's this, could be cheese.  That's all.  Oh, a flask with water, too."

"Not what I'm accustomed to!  It'll have to do, I guess."

We ate an apple each and some of the bread.  I gave Malik the flask and he
drank deeply.  He passed it back to me, giggling a bit.  I drank, too.
Only, it was no water, it was wine.  Strong one, too.  I coughed.  Well,
hopefully it'd warm us up.  During our meal our arms and hands had gotten
very cold again, so we hurried to get back under the blankets when we were
done.  The boy fell asleep quickly.  I lay there, couldn't sleep at all.  I
felt miserable and lost, and all I could think of was how good it had been
sleeping with Ragen and Bolgar, and that I wanted them back, and then I
hated myself for wanting them.

What a fool I was.  What a weakling.  A fucktoy.  I hadn't always been like
this.  I knew I used to be like other men my age, cocky, confident.  I
would never be like that again.  Not after what had been done to me.  But
surely I could be more than this.  I wanted to be more.  More than just
their fucktoy.  A daring thought entered my mind.  What if I found them,
and managed to free them?  Things would have to be different then.  Maybe.
And even if not, at least I would have them back!  But could I really do
that?  What if I got caught?  I broke out in a cold sweat at that thought.
No, I couldn't risk that.  Absolutely not.  But the idea wouldn't let me
rest.

I must have fallen asleep at one point, `cause I was dreaming.  I was lying
in Bolgar's arms and Ragen was sucking me.  And it was so good.  He'd taken
me deep, my whole cock was enveloped in moist, soft heat.  He hummed around
me and I wanted to grab him by the ears and fuck his face.  But I couldn't
move one bit.  Bolgar held me in his strong arms, kept me in place.  I
could feel how powerful he was.  I loved being held like that.  It made me
feel so safe.

Now Ragen was swallowing around me.  I wanted to scream but somehow
couldn't.  He pulled off again, there was his breath caressing my wet cock,
and then he took me in again, swallowed me down again, and my balls
tightened so fast it hurt, and then I came and came down his throat
screaming myself hoarse in the process.

I was still screaming when I woke up.  And there was still something wet
and hot engulfing my cock head and gulping down my cum.  Who the hell???

Oh, Gods!  Oh, no!  Please, anyone tell me this hasn't happened!  In the
dim light of the dawning day I saw a small figure moving under the
blankets.  Oh, no!  I'd let a child suck me!  I felt like I was going to be
sick.  "Malik!" I groaned.

A broadly grinning dark face came up from under the blankets.  Black eyes
gleaming with smugness.  A very red tongue licking pearly cum from pearly
teeth and very red, swollen lips.  "MALIK!"  This time I yelled.

"What's up, Rikk?  Didn't you like your wake-up call?"

"Wake-up call?" I spluttered.

"Why, yes!  My master loved it!  I woke him every morning like this!  He
said I was the best cocksucker he ever had.  Of course I've had years of
practice."

I was shocked, to say the least.

"Oh, you poor child.  I'm so sorry!  That must have been terrible for you!
But these times are over now.  You don't need to do these things any more."

Malik looked disturbed.  "I don't understand - didn't you like it?  You
came!  Wasn't I good?"

I hurried to reassure him.  "You were very good.  But that's not the point.
Children shouldn't do these things.  It's not right!  It was wrong of your
master to use you like that."

"But - but...I like it!  I like sucking, and fucking, too!"

I thought I was going to faint.  "Did you say 'fucking'?"

Malik nodded.

"I don't believe it!  That monster fucked a child?"

"I'm not a child!  I'm 15!  And yes, he did!  But I didn't escape because
of that!  I just wanted to be free!  Now I am free.  I'm going to do what I
want.  If I want to suck cock, I will.  If I want to fuck, I will!"

"But not with me!" I yelled right back, getting now pissed myself.  To
think that I'd felt sorry for the brat!

Meanwhile he'd gotten up from under the blankets.  He stood there naked,
proud, fists on hips, glowering at me.

"As if you're the one to talk!" he sneered.  "I heard you moaning their
names when I was doing you!  'Oooh, Volga!  Aah, Ragen!'"

"It's Bolgar, not Volga, you brat!  The Volga is a river in Seria!  And
it's not the same!  I'm a grown-up, I know what I do.  You obviously don't.
You need someone to take care of you, someone to prevent you from getting
in trouble!"

"And you think you're the one to do that?  Well, I've news for you, Rikky:
You're not my master!  I won't let you order me around!  It's going to be
just the other way: If you don't do what I say, I won't tell you where the
slavers are bound, and you'll never see those guys again you're pining for!
How's that?"

I had heard only one thing.  "You know where they're going?"

He smirked triumphantly. "Yes, I know.  And I can lead you there.  But only
if you do what I say, from now on.  Do we have a deal?"

I didn't need to think about it.  I nodded my head yes.

"I've got you by the balls!" he cried out triumphantly.  He strutted the
two steps toward me.  "Give me proof, slaveboy.  Suck my dick!"

What was I to do?  I told myself that me sucking him wasn't as bad as
having him suck me, and went on my knees in front of him.  His cock was
small, slender, and very hard already.  I had no trouble taking him in one
go.  He began to leak precum immediately, and it was sweeter than any I'd
ever had.  I still was angry and agitated, so I attacked him with a
vengeance.  But it wasn't enough for him, 'cause he took hold of my head
and started to fuck my mouth hard and fast.  Even if he was small, he had
me gasping and spluttering around him.  In no time he came in my mouth,
four, five jets of the sweetest cum, and he yelled out loud in his high,
boyish voice.

"Lick me clean," he ordered, "my balls, too."  I did.  "Enough."  At last
he was satisfied.  Strangely enough, I was hard again.

He laughed out loud when he saw it.  "You're forbidden to jack off,
slaveboy.  I want you hot and horny for tonight."  And my cock twitched.  I
hated it.

For breakfast we shared the last apple, the rest of the cheese, and some
bread.  We each had a few sips of the wine, too.  Then we checked our
clothes.  They had nearly dried over night and were only a little bit
clammy when we put them on.  Then we packed everything and got on our way.
The clouds were gone now and the sky was a clear blue.  It was warmer than
it had been in days.

On our way downward we came across a little stream where we drank as much
as we could.  Also we filled Bolgar's flask up.  Malik muttered something
about diluting the wine, but he didn't stop me.  He hadn't given me any
orders at all since he'd made me blow him in the morning.

When the sun was at its peak we made a short stop and ate the last of the
stale bread, washed it down with the diluted wine.  We marched on.  We were
halfway down the mountain now, and in woody regions.  While walking we
picked berries and mushrooms I knew were edible.  In the late afternoon we
were rounding a bend on the winding path, when suddenly Malik grabbed my
arm and pulled me back.  I landed on my ass with a dull thud.

"What's up, dammit?" I asked, annoyed.

"Not you, obviously!  Didn't you see it?  They're in front of us, just two
slopes down the path!"

I scrambled to my feet and approached the corner slowly.  Then I craned my
neck to look around it.  Malik was right.  I could see a group of maybe
thirty men, all on horses, and between them about twenty men walking in
chains.  I even thought I could recognize Bolgar, towering above the other
men with his blond head.  My heart beat painfully in my chest.  I just
wanted to run down to him and throw myself into his arms, or at his feet,
whatever...

"What now?" I asked Malik.

"We need to be careful, keep our distance.  Follow them till it becomes
dark and they make camp.  Usually they put up a guard or two.  If it's only
one, we maybe can take him out?"

"Yes, hopefully!" I said.  My doubts must have been obvious from the tone
of my voice.

"Well, or we can sneak up to the prisoners..."

"And do what?  They're in chains, dammit!  Even if we were strong enough to
break those, we'd wake everyone up doing it!"

"We won't have to break them - look what I've got here!"  With a very smug
grin Malik reached into his oversized pants and produced a small metallic
object.  A key!

"Is it...."

"Yep!  The key to their chains.  I took it from my master before we left
yesterday.  I thought I'd need it if they caught me again."

I couldn't help myself, I just had to hug him.  "Oh, dear boy, that's
wonderful!" I exclaimed.

"Shh!  Not so loud, idiot!"

"Oh, sorry!  But with this key we may be really able to free them!"

"Not if they hear your shouting and catch us!  We need to be very careful!
And, you should ask yourself if you really want those men free.  Remember,
they took you prisoner, held you as a slave!  What tells you they won't do
it again?"

"You don't know the whole story, Malik.  They freed me of a situation that
was a lot worse, and they treated me fairly well, all in all.  It were only
a few days I was with them, but...," I hesitated.

"But what?"

"I'm not sure.  Maybe it's just wishful thinking, and I'm fooling myself.
But, uh...it wasn't only that I belonged to them.  It rather felt like I
belonged with them.  You'll call me an idiot, again, and probably you're
right.  But I'm willing to take that chance.  I want them back!"  I took a
deep breath.

"Very well," Malik said, smiling up at me knowingly, "I'll help you.  We'll
free your men."

So, we followed the slaver-traders for the rest of the afternoon.  Their
pace was quite slow, so I was able to keep up.  We made sure we didn't come
any closer to them and checked carefully before each turn of the path.  The
sky had become cloudy again and the air smelled like rain.  As the first
drops started falling, they set up camp.  Malik and I huddled under the
plane of Bolgar's tent, wrapped up in his fur.

"The rain will help us," Malik remarked.  "They'll go to sleep early, and
the guards won't be able to see or hear us that easily."

While we waited for the camp to settle down we shared the last bread and
drank the rest of the watered wine.  And we waited.  When the fires in the
camp were burning low, and we couldn't see anybody moving there, we figured
it was time to go.  We decided to leave the tent and our things behind and
took only one backpack with us.

The rain had gotten worse, but I didn't mind at all.  It wasn't as cold as
the night before, and Malik was right, the rain was our ally.  We reached
the camp without any incidents.  Slowly we surrounded it.  There wasn't
even a guard.  Probably they felt secure enough, thinking that nobody had
escaped the attack in the mountains.  They had chained their prisoners
together in the middle of the camp.

"Give me the key," I whispered toward Malik.

"No, let's go together!" he replied.

There was no time to discuss this.  Side by side we crawled on our stomachs
around the tents toward the prisoners.

All stayed silent, well, safe for the splashing the rain.  Of course we'd
been drenched long since.  We were only two or three yards away from the
group of prisoners, and I was wondering how to make them aware of our
presence, when I heard a whisper.  "Who's there?"

Without thinking I replied, "It's me, Rikk."

"You idiot!" I heard next.  "What are you doing here?  Didn't I tell you to
run?"

"Bolgar?  Is that you?"

"No, it's Bilari's hairy grandma.  Of course it's me.  Again, what are you
doing here?"

"We're going to free you.  We've got a key.  Tell everybody to be quiet!"

I crawled closer to him, fumbled for his chains and finally found the
keyhole.  I inserted the key without problems, but when I began to turn it,
the sonofabitch began to creak.  Immediately I stopped.  Damn.  We needed
fat, or oil!  Suddenly I remembered something - the little bottle of oil
I'd found in Bolgar's things.  I had put it in his, now my, backpack.

"Malik," I whispered, "there's a little bottle in my pack. Can you get it?"

"Sure," he replied, searched my pack deftly, and in no time I held the oil
in my hands.  I applied some to the key and tried again.  It opened without
any noise and Bolgar's hands were free.  "I'll take care of the rest," he
said," you sneak back and hide behind the trees.  I'll let you know when
it's safe to come out."

We did as he had said, and soon Malik and I were crouching under a group of
bushes that provided a bit of shelter from the rain.  Though it wouldn't
have been possible for us to get any wetter than we already were.  There we
waited for the things to come.



BOLGAR:

I swear on Luki's two tails, I heard them coming before they even reached
the clearing.  Two mooncalves stomping through the woods like a couple of
bloody olifants, and it was only due to the heavy rain and the slave
traders' sottishness that they weren't noticed.  I wondered who they were.
No one of our group would make such a racket, and anyway, I was pretty sure
there had been no survivors.  Well, save for Rikk probably.  But it
couldn't be him.  Why would he want to free us?  And even if he wanted, he
was too chicken-hearted to even attempt such a thing.  At least that's what
I thought.

I was very surprised when our rescuer turned out to be timid Rikk indeed,
and still more surprised when he even had a key for our chains!  While he
and the other one crawled back our group of twenty-two got rid of our
chains.  Then, tent for tent, we knocked our enemies out.  In the end we
bound them with their own chains.  We'd check them out in the morning, see
if there were any we wanted to keep, and then leave the rest of them
chained in the woods.  Then we'd give the key to the chief of a village
that was far enough away, so they wouldn't come after us.  They would be
facing a few uncomfortable days, but they would live.

So, when all was under control, and the campfires burning bright, Ragen and
I went for Rikk and his companion.  At the edge of the clearing we called
his name.  There was a rustle in the undergrowth, and then two wet figures
came stumbling toward us.  For a moment Ragen and I were speechless with
what we saw.  Then Ragen yelled; "I don't believe this!  Our fearsome
slaveboy and a friggin' child!"  He took the two steps toward Rikk, hugged
him fiercely, and kissed both his cheeks, loudly.

"Oomph!" said Rikk when he was let down and could breath again.  Then it
was my turn.  I opened my arms.  "Come here, boy," I said, and Rikk came
willingly, even eagerly into my arms.  I think it was the first time he
came to me without fear or apprehension.  And Gods, did it ever feel good
to hold him again!  I didn't want to let go of him... In the end, Ragen
joined us and hugged both Rikk and me.  And there we were, the three of us
together again, and it felt so right I knew we were meant to be like this.

"And what about me?" a clear voice asked, demandingly.

"Yes, Rikk, who is he?" I asked.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know," Rikk replied, "but let's get
dry first, yes?"

We got dry, and warm, and learned what Rikk had to tell about Malik.  When
he told us how the boy had forced him to give him a blowjob, we howled with
laughter.

"Only you, Rikk, would have been blackmailed by a mere kid!" Ragen
exclaimed.

"A mere kid?  Ha!" countered Rikk, giving us a meaningful look.  "You're in
for a few surprises," he added, ominously.

It turned out he was right, as Ragen and I began to realize the very same
night.  But that, my friends, is another story, for another day.