But Jesus, he was too slender to be carrying this box in the first place. He looked too young to be working in the warehouse, as well. “How old are you?”
The boy licked his lips and kept his gaze down. “Seventeen, Master Ben.”
Okay, so old enough, legally. There was something about his voice and pretty face that triggered a memory. Before he could ask any more questions, however, a large, middle-aged slave came running up. He slid to his knees next to the boy.
“I’m sorry, Master Ben. Sir,” he added with a nod to the supervisor. “I’ll help the boy clean this up.”
It took only a second for Ben to connect the dots now that the older man had arrived. “John!”
The slave glanced up and gave a brief smile. “Yes, sir. Welcome home, Master Ben.”
“So this is Danny?” Ben asked, pointing to the boy.
John smiled more broadly. “Yes, sir, this is Danny.”
“Wow,” Ben said, standing. “I’d forgotten that Mary said he’d come to work at the company.” Mary and John had received permission from his mother years ago to start a domestic arrangement. John often stayed the night or a weekend at the house. Danny had grown up there and while he was too young to have interested Ben or his sister as a playmate, he’d been a sweet kid to have around.
“He’s been here almost a year now, sir.” John’s pride at having his son with him was obvious.
The supervisor killed the mood. “Yeah, and he’s doing a shitty job. He couldn’t even carry this one box a few yards.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” John replied quickly. “Please, sir, put me on half rations for the next month instead of Danny.”
Ken scoffed. “One? Try at least three. This stuff was expensive.”
“Yes, sir.”
John didn’t bat an eye at the idea of getting less to eat for so long, but his son knelt there, blinking back tears. When he opened his mouth to say something, to protest maybe, his father gave him a subtle warning with a nudge of his arm. Ben caught the gesture, though, and it pained him to see these two nice people in such distress. Fortunately, being the boss’s son had its privileges.
“There won’t be any punishment,” he said and tossed the railing onto the pile. “It was an accident. Danny doesn’t look particularly suited to warehouse work. I’m going to find him something else to do.”
Ken raised his eyebrows at him. “Well, your father assigned him here and his rule is that if a slave breaks anything, it gets paid for through reduced rations.”
With as congenial a look as he could muster, he clapped Ken on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take responsibility for the decision. My father wants me to put my business degree to good use and one of the things I learned is to sometimes mix up the work force. See if slaves in particular are better utilized elsewhere.”
Ken shrugged. “You’re the boss. John, clean this mess up.”
“Yes, sir.” Shooting a grateful look at Ben, the man started gathering up the railing.
When Danny tried to help him, Ben said, “Danny, leave that for your father and come with me.”
“Yes, Master Ben,” the boy murmured.
Ben turned away, although he saw the father give his son an encouraging nod. It heartened him to see how John obviously loved his son. Like any good parent, he looked out for his child as best he could. It must have been hard for him to see that his kid had gotten into trouble and know there was little he could do to protect him. He supposed a restricted diet was better than a beating, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t intended to be merciful, just more economical. Damn, maybe working there would serve good purpose after all. If he played his cards right, he could make real improvements in the lives of the company slaves.
He led the way across the warehouse to the comparatively newer section that contained the home improvement part of the business. Instead of entering the showroom where customers could see models for kitchens, bathrooms and closets, he went to the workshop. The smell of wood was stronger there and mixed with more pungent smells like varnish and paint. It proved a bit noisier, too, as woodworkers built cabinetry and doors. They did hard work there, but it didn’t necessarily require the same upper-body strength as needed for the heavy lifting in the warehouse. He hoped to find something for Danny that the kid would be better at.
He caught the eye of the carpenter across the room. The older man pulled out the ear buds from his outmoded MP3 player and gave Ben a large smile. “Hey, college boy, back home for good?” He extended a hand when Ben reached him.
Ben gave him an enthusiastic handshake. “Mario, it’s good to see you! I came by earlier but you were so busy at the lathe, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Ah, nothing’s so important that it can’t wait for you.”
Mario had been handpicked by Ben’s mother when she’d started up this side of the business. He’d always taken time to explain to a young Ben what he was doing and let him help. He’d also always been kind to the slaves from what Ben had seen. Working with Mario might be a good fit for Danny. Turning, Ben gestured to the boy to come forward. The slave’s gaze was down and he gnawed at his lower lip as he complied.
“Mario, this is Danny.”
The other man scrutinized the boy for a few seconds. “Your housekeeper’s boy? His father works in the warehouse, right?”
“That’s right. He’s been working there, too, but he’s not really suited for the heavy labor.”
Mario grinned. “Not enough lead in his ass, I guess.”
Ben chuckled. “Yeah, he needs more meat on his bones. So, in the meantime, I figured there’d be something he could do here. What do you think?”
With pursed lips and squinting eyes, Mario thought it over. “I guess I could use some more help around the workshop. You know anything about working with wood, boy?”
“No, sir. Sorry, sir,” the slave answered in a soft voice.
“Well, I’ll teach ya,” the carpenter replied amiably.
“Great,” Ben said, relieved that he hadn’t made a bonehead move in pulling the slave from the position his father had dictated. He placed a careful hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You be good for Mr. Fiorello now, Danny.”
“Yes, Master Ben.” The boy lifted his gaze briefly. The look of utter gratitude in his eyes both delighted Ben and made him uncomfortable. Before he could think of anything more to say, a discreet throat clearing caught his attention.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Oliver standing a few feet away with his hands behind his back.
Oliver tried not to stare at Ben and at how he had his hand on a young and pretty slave. He tried not to be jealous of that boy, either. He pretty much failed at both and no amount of internal chastisement could banish the sting of his envy. He wanted Ben more each day. Not being able to have him was hard enough. The idea of someone else being allowed that privilege proved unbearable. Yet bear it he must.
When the master had ordered him into proper clothes to accompany him to work, Oliver had been elated. Just getting out of the house was wonderful, no matter how much people stared at him. Forget the blow job under the desk he’d given the master earlier, too. The lumber company held more interest for him, a different place to be played with than the few rooms he’d been spending all of his time in. It was also awesome to be in Ben’s company, except for now. He’d envied free people plenty of times, but never a slave. He had no reason to react so anyway. It wasn’t as if he’d found Ben with his cock down the kid’s throat or anything.
And now he’d stood there not speaking when Ben so obviously expected him to explain what he was doing there.
He cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry, sir. The master requests you go to the large conference room for a lunch meeting.”
Ben smacked his forehead. “Right. He told me about that when we first got here. Good to see you again, Mario,” the young master added, extending his hand to shake the one of a white-haired freeman. “Take good care of Danny for me.”
“Of course.”
“Coming, Oliver?” Ben stopped beside him and Oliver had to shake himself internally out of a new funk from hearing Ben being protective of the other slave.
“Um, no, sir. The master said I should have lunch with the company slaves.”
“Okay. Danny, why don’t you show Oliver here where to go for food?”
“Yes, Master Ben.”
They all watched Ben walk away for a few seconds before the freeman said, “Be back in thirty minutes, kid.”
“Yes, sir,” the slave, Danny, said in a meek voice that grated on Oliver’s nerves even though he’d used the exact same tone many times himself. “This way,” the boy said with a flick of his head to Oliver.
As Oliver followed the boy to the warehouse, he couldn’t help scrutinize him out of the corner of his eye and compare him to himself. The kid had darker skin and hair. It was an exotic look, he supposed. His face still had that pudgy softness that Oliver had only recently lost. It made him that much prettier than he. The other slave was a little shorter, though, and skinnier. Oliver might not be muscle-bound, but he beat this boy in mass. Surely Ben wasn’t into scrawny teens. Or, maybe he was into exactly that kind of guy. Except the more Oliver looked, the more he realized that the other slave wasn’t just baby-faced, but a baby. Well, younger by a year anyway, too young to be a body slave. As little as he knew of the young master, Ben struck Oliver as being too decent a guy to ever prey on someone so young.
Danny slowed his footsteps and sighed. “What?”
Embarrassed to be caught looking, Oliver feigned a casual shrug. “What, what?”
“You’re staring at me,” the other boy scoffed.
“Am not.” Jeez, he felt like a little kid with this exchange. Plus, he had been staring, so now he was getting defensive.
“You’re a body slave, aren’t you?” Danny asked, changing tacks.
Oliver stiffened with renewed embarrassment for a second before realizing there was no shame in what he was. At least no more shame than being any kind of slave. “Yeah, so?”
“So, I guess that’s kind of a tough job.” Danny’s tone of voice held a note of sympathy, indicating he wasn’t trying to be a shithead by asking about it.
Oliver shrugged. “It’s not so bad. The master is pretty nice and it’s not hard work.” Why he felt the need to lie, he couldn’t explain. It wasn’t pride. It just seemed wrong to spill his misery onto this kid.
“Does he give you cookie dough ice cream after you suck him off?”
The question had Oliver stopping dead in his tracks.
Danny went a couple of steps farther then stopped as well. “What?” That seemed to be the boy’s go-to question. He appeared generally puzzled by Oliver’s reaction.
“Why would you ask me that?”
Danny looked around before he stepped closer. “’Cause that’s what he gave me after, you know.” His voice was low. He hunched his shoulders as if worried what he’d said would earn him a rebuke.
Struck dumb for a few seconds, Oliver swallowed hard before responding. “You were the master’s body slave before me?” Holy fuck! No way could Danny be eighteen.
The other boy rolled his eyes. “No, not like officially or anything. I was still only fifteen then, not even old enough to work here. He only had me do it a few times.” Frowning, he added, “It didn’t hurt, but it was kind of gross. I liked the ice cream, though,” he added in a soft voice and gave Oliver a crooked smile, making him appear even younger than he must be.
Oliver didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to make the kid feel bad about what had been done to him if he’d convinced himself it hadn’t been awful. “He shouldn’t have done that,” he finally said in an equally low voice. “You were too young.”
Danny held out his hands and shrugged. “He’s the master. Who’s going to tell him he can’t do something in his own home? It’s not like here where the state does inspections.” His expression became more serious. “Don’t repeat this to anybody else, okay?”
“Okay.” Who would he tell anyway? It wasn’t as if Oliver was free to go to the police. Even if he were, slaves couldn’t testify against free people period, let alone their own master.
“I mean it.” Danny grimaced. “I don’t want my mom finding out. You know how moms are. I think it would make her sad.”
Think? “Don’t worry. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone. How would I tell your mother anyway?”
“You see her all the time, dopey. She’s Mary.”
“Mary?”
Of course. Oliver had heard her mention she had a son working at the lumber company with his father. That must be where Danny got his darker complexion from. So his master had not only molested an underage slave, he’d picked the son of his devoted housekeeper. And done it right under her nose. God, could the man get any more disgusting? To think Oliver had entertained for a second the idea that life with him could be nice. The only good part about being owned by the man was Ben and even that point held misery because Ben was off-limits. Oliver’s earlier jealousy left him with a sick feeling, too. He’d done a disservice to both Ben and Danny. Ben was not like his father. The slave, himself, looked at Oliver with guileless eyes, obviously not fully aware of the advantage taken of him.
Oliver gave the boy a reassuring smile. “I won’t say a word.”
“Good.” Danny started walking again. “Let’s go get lunch. If we don’t get there early, the best stuff will be gone.”
“Okay.” Oliver hurried to catch up. Right, like he could eat now.
****
Lunch with Danny and his father and the other company slaves was surprisingly fun. Once he resolved to put aside the boy’s confession, he enjoyed the chance to relax, if only for a half hour. The slave ate pretty well, too, deli sandwiches with carrot sticks. He even ate a small chocolate chip cookie with only a modicum of guilt that it put him off the strict diet the Master held him to. He’d just have to exercise an extra half hour the next time he worked out, that was all.
He returned to the master’s office per orders and kneeled by the side of the desk for the next hour and a half until the master and Ben returned from their meeting. Oliver’s knees ached like a son of a bitch, but he plastered a fake smile on his face for his master and snuck a more genuine one to Ben when the men arrived.
Ben flopped down on the visitor couch and moaned. “God, I’m stuffed. Do you eat that way every day?”
Relaxing back in his chair, his father grinned. “Of course not, or we’d all be like beached whales. That was a special one to welcome you.”
Ben returned the look. “Thanks, but I think I’ll have Mary pack me a light lunch tomorrow.”
“Whatever you want, son. So, what’d you think of everyone?”
“They seem like a good crew. The sales department in particular is impressive in what they know about the products and the market.”
“Yeah, they’re a great bunch of guys. Did you have a chance to speak with more of the boys in the trenches on your earlier tour?”
“I spoke briefly again with Ken and met with Mario.”
“Oh, Mario. Christ, he had such a crush on your mother. I wanted to punch him in the face sometimes, the way he looked at her. But he’s a hell of a carpenter, so I kept him on.”
“I’m glad, because he does excellent work. I reassigned a slave, by the way, from the warehouse to Mario’s division.”
The Master sat up. “You did? Which one?”
“Mary’s boy, Danny,” Ben said, his eyes drooping from an obviously imminent food coma. “He’s too slender to do the heavy work. He’ll be better at the finer jobs. Mario can handle him and who knows, maybe he’ll have an aptitude for carpentry.”
“Mmph,” the Master grunted in reply before sitting back. “I suppose you’re right, although as pretty as the kid is, he’s worth more as a body slave.” There was a pause. “Maybe you should take him on.”
Ben’s eyes popped open an
d he sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
The master fiddled with a pen for a few seconds before answering. Oliver tried not to appear as if he were watching and listening to the conversation. It was tough to do. The tension level in the room had risen sharply even though nothing had been overtly said that would cause it. Except talk about Danny made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Perhaps he was being overly sensitive given what the other slave had told him.
“I mean, I’m aware of the stress you must be feeling now that you’ve taken on this new responsibility, one that I’ve essentially thrust upon you. A boy like Danny could help you out there.”
On the other hand, maybe not.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about having this kid massage my neck,” Ben replied in a slow and deliberate tone.
The master scoffed. “You can have him massage anything you like. I’m just saying a blow job before, during, or after work is a great way to de-stress. At least that’s been my experience.”
Ben winced and his gaze flashed to Oliver for a second. The expression on his face was painful to see. “That boy is only seventeen,” he said in a low voice.
“So what? Who’s to know? He wouldn’t even be a novice at it.”
“H-huh?” Now Ben’s expression went from shocked to angry.
Oliver had only thought things were tense before. Sweat trickled down his side and in the back of his mind, he worried about getting into trouble for staining his shirt with perspiration. He tried not to gnaw his lower lip, but he fidgeted with fear of what Ben might do or say. He was a decent man to be upset about Danny. What good would it do him, though, to have a falling out with his father? It wouldn’t help Danny or any of the other slaves, including Oliver. Then he felt guilty about being concerned with himself. This was not about him.
“Now don’t get on your high horse, son. When your mother was going through the last round of chemo, she was so sick and I felt so helpless. The boy still lived at the house and it felt good to let off a little steam.” Tossing the pen aside, the man let out a loud breath. “It’s not like I fucked him or anything, and I rewarded him for the service.”
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