“A perfect fit, wouldn’t you say?” Ben emphasized his question with a jerk of his hips that allowed his cock to press against Oliver’s prostate.
“Unh,” was all the slave could manage in reply. It was perfect. Now he understood why some guys liked being fucked. He had known in theory but had never experienced the pure joy of being claimed by someone who wanted him to like it. He tested his newfound knowledge by tightening his hole. As his flesh clung to Ben’s, a jolt of pleasure shot to his own cock. It jumped and he bucked instinctively into the air.
Ben gasped and gripped Oliver’s thighs more strongly. “Do that again,” he commanded breathlessly.
Ever obedient to a master’s whims, Oliver complied and was rewarded with another gasp and delighted smile aimed down at him. With all of the training he had received, he knew what to do to please a man and to make him come faster. This was different. He wanted desperately to please Ben, not out of fear, but out of love. And he didn’t want to hurry him up. As good as being fucked by this man felt, he would gladly have it last all night.
Ben had other ideas.
With his gaze trained on Oliver, Ben began to thrust. Slowly at first then picked up speed as Oliver pumped his hips to meet him. The intensity of the pounding he took became too much for him to keep his eyes open. Slamming them shut, he threw his head back and moaned. He wanted to grab his own cock, yet didn’t dare. Ben was in charge. He’d let him know when he could come, if he could come. Except Ben didn’t say anything about it. He simply reached between their bodies and wrapped his fingers tightly around Oliver’s straining flesh.
Ben’s strokes matched the rhythm of his thrusts, the speed of both rocketing up. The wet smacking sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, as did the keening cries of both of them as their orgasms built.
“Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby,” Ben cried out. “Come with me. Come!”
With the order still ringing in his head, Oliver let himself go. He clenched fistfuls of sheet and arched his back. Ben shot inside his spasming ass as cum spurted out of his own cock. The timing was so close it was almost as if a part of Ben cycled through him and out again. This was what it meant to be joined with a lover. It meant so much more than being fucked.
As the tremors wound down in both their bodies, Oliver collapsed boneless against the bed. In the dim recesses of his mind, he thought he should move and do something. But he couldn’t manage to hold onto the idea and drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Nine
Despite the devastating orgasm, Ben couldn’t sleep. Instead, he cuddled Oliver’s limp form against him under a light sheet. He’d somehow found the energy to clean them both up a bit. Oliver had slept through it all, a small smile gracing his lips. He looked ridiculously young in his sleep. That observation led to reminders that this boy belonged to Ben’s father and had become far older now by a measure more than mere years. What they had was an illusion that would last only a few days. He couldn’t imagine how he could go back to acting as if Oliver didn’t matter while his father treated him like an object.
Oliver wore only the too-tight collar, marking him as property. Ben frowned at the hateful thing in the dimness cast by the bathroom light he’d left on. He hated it and what it represented, yet he could do nothing about it. Perhaps with time, his father would tire of his toy and let Ben buy him. The idea of paying money for not only a person, but his lover, made him sick. It was better than the alternative, though. He couldn’t let his father sell the boy to anyone else.
There was nothing to be done about it at the moment. He would try to live in the now as best he could and appreciate every minute he had. If that meant staying up all night just for the pleasure of holding Oliver, then it would be enough. He worried that he had exploited him by fucking him, although Oliver had seemed to enjoy himself. He would have to take at face value that the slave genuinely acquiesced.
As much as he hated to let Oliver go, just before dawn, he shook him awake. “Wake up, baby,” he crooned.
“Hmm.” Oliver’s eyes flew open and he tensed for a second before his gaze landed on Ben.
“It’s okay,” Ben hastened to assure him, realizing too late that maybe being woken by another man in bed wasn’t Oliver’s favorite thing. “I’m sorry, but it’s almost morning and you should leave.”
Oliver blinked a few times before sitting up. Ben reluctantly let him out of his embrace. “I’m sorry, did I fall asleep?”
Ben gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I guess I tuckered you out.”
Oliver’s lips quirked. “I guess you did.”
“I hate to kick you out,” Ben said, sliding out of bed himself. “But I don’t want to put Mary and the others in a position where they have to keep secrets from my father. If anyone sees you in bed with me, they’ll know that I went beyond what my father has allowed me to do with you.”
At the mention of the man, Oliver’s eyes widened. He practically jumped out of bed. “I understand.” The slave gathered up his clothing and yanked them on.
Ben clasped him on the shoulders. “I hate to make you keep secrets, too. I don’t want you to get into trouble though.”
“I don’t want you to either,” the boy replied.
Ben gave him a quick kiss before playfully swatting his ass. “Don’t you worry about me. Now if anyone asks, we both fell asleep after watching the movie and you giving me a blow job. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.” When Ben frowned at him, the slave amended his answer. “Yes, Ben. And, thank you,” he added before hurrying out of the room.
Ben shook his head and went back to bed. The guy had just thanked him for what? His inability to keep his hands off Oliver had complicated the poor guy’s life considerably. If Ben really cared for the slave, he’d leave him the hell alone. That was the right thing to do. No chance in hell he had the strength to do it. They had a few days to spend together then he’d see what possible options he had because walking away from Oliver was not one of them.
****
No lumberyard emergencies, or even minor dramas, meant that Ben could do what he pleased that Sunday. He decided to meander downtown, something he hadn’t done since returning home. Although it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, he brought Oliver along. He enjoyed seeing things through the slave’s eyes. The boy obviously hadn’t been out and about much in his life. He took in everything around them with wide eyes. It was hard to watch him, however, given the typical protocol of a slave walking behind the person who owned them. Ben had to keep turning around or watching him through the reflection of windows they stopped to stare in.
“How about some ice cream?” he asked when they reached his favorite place.
Oliver couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “I’d like that, sir. Thank you.”
The guy was shy and respectful out in public. Ben hated the formality that needed to be in place between them. “Come on,” he said, and went to open the door. The sign in the window, something he’d never noticed before, stayed his hand. Turning back to Oliver, he frowned. “Sorry, they won’t let you come in.”
With his hands clasped behind his back, Oliver stood off to the side. “I understand, sir.”
His easy acquiescence irritated Ben, as did the law that allowed businesses to keep slaves out. Ben’s feelings on the issue hardly mattered, of course. Oliver was being sensible in accepting that which he couldn’t change and it was more important to give the boy the treat than to rail against the system.
“What’s your favorite flavor?” he asked.
Nibbling on his lower lip, the boy said, “Whatever you like, sir.” Before Ben could demand a better answer, the slave grinned shyly. “Surprise me, please.”
Well, when he put it that way. “I’ll be right back.” True to his word, Ben returned within minutes, carrying two cones of coffee ice cream with chocolate chunks. His own favorite was vanilla, actually, but that seemed too dull a treat for his boy. He handed over the cone with a flourish. Oliver took a tentative lick then a bit
e. “Well?”
“It’s delicious, sir. Thank you.”
They stood grinning at each other around mouthfuls of ice cream. People milled about them, but Ben’s world centered on the beautiful boy enjoying the simple treat. How many had he had in his short life, he wondered? Damn few, he bet. It wasn’t fair. There had to be a way of making life better for him even after his father returned, although for the life of him, he couldn’t think how.
“Ben!”
He started at the booming voice next to him. Shifting his attention away from Oliver, he hid his annoyance when he saw Vince McGill. “Mr. McGill, how are you, sir?”
McGill clasped the hand Ben extended. “It’s Vince, remember? I hear from your father you’ve joined him at the company.”
“That’s right.” Ben plastered a fake smile on his face. “In fact, with my father up in Canada on a business trip, I’ve really come to appreciate how hard he works. It’s nice to have a day off. Gives me time to get some shopping done.”
Vince returned the grin, but his gaze slid over to Oliver. “Enjoying his boy, too, I see.”
Ben didn’t dare look to see how Oliver was taking the scrutiny. He didn’t like Vince’s innuendo, either. He forced a chuckle. “I hate shopping and hate carrying bags around even more. Oliver will make a good enough pack mule,” he said with an inner wince. “I figured he’ll be more pliable with an ice cream bribe.”
Vince barked out a laugh. “You college boys, such wimps. The threat of a good beating usually does the trick.”
“I suppose,” Ben replied with a rueful smile. He definitely didn’t like the look on Vince’s face. Too many wheels turned inside of what Ben had always thought of as a mostly empty head. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I should get started.”
He didn’t wait for Vince’s reply before grabbing what was left of Oliver’s cone from his hand and tossing it with his own in the trash. “See you later, Vince.” He gave a little wave before snapping his fingers in Oliver’s direction. Without looking, he knew the slave had dutifully come to heel. He could feel the creepiness of Vince’s gaze, too, as he forced himself to saunter away.
He shopped as well in case the man followed them, and really he did need a few things that he’d never ask Mary to pick up for him. Like underwear. And deodorant. While he was at it, he preferred a natural toothpaste to the brand he’d grown up with. He wandered around the drugstore, tossing things in the basket dutifully held by Oliver. Nothing was said between them. Being a slave, of course Oliver didn’t initiate any conversations, and Ben’s paranoia reared up enough to worry about being overheard now that he’d been reminded that being out in public meant being around other people.
He relaxed some in the car and by the time they were home, running into Vince was a distant memory. They filled the rest of the afternoon with another swimming lesson then dinner, a movie, and finally he had Oliver back in his bed. They fucked face to face, with Ben’s arms braced on each side of Oliver’s head and Oliver’s legs wrapped around Ben’s waist. Unlike their first time, the boy had welcomed him inside his body with no hesitation or fear. Instead his heels pressed against Ben’s ass, silently urging him to thrust harder and faster.
Ben grinned down at him. “You like having my cock inside you, don’t you?”
Oliver arched his neck and groaned. “Yesss.”
“You want me to go deeper?”
A whimper. “Please.”
Ben nibbled at one delicate earlobe, scraping his teeth against the tender flesh. He was rewarded with a hiss and a tightening of Oliver’s hole. “Rock your hips up.”
When the boy complied, Ben buried his dick in as far as he could go. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to be as flush against the beautiful body as he could, but that would mean changing positions, putting Oliver on all fours, and that just wouldn’t do. He thought of himself as Oliver’s lover, not his master. It was critical the slave experience the difference between being made love to instead of just being fucked even if it meant Ben missing out on a small amount of pleasure.
One of the boy’s heels thumped hard against Ben’s ass. Pleased by the enthusiasm, Ben increased his tempo. He thrust faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated around the room. With each stroke, Oliver’s hole tightened, milking Ben’s rod and coaxing the climax out of him. He gripped not just the sheet, but the mattress beneath in order to pull his body forward with more force. His world collapsed to the single focus of the pleasure building in his balls and climbing up his cock.
He came in a rush of mindless curses and incoherent cries. His body shuddered with the release, every nerve ending pulsing. The body beneath his bucked and writhed against him, enflaming him to greater heights. With a last bellow, he collapsed flush against Oliver. Their sweaty skin stuck them together as their harsh breathing blended together. After long minutes, Ben had the presence of mind to slip out of Oliver and roll them onto their sides.
He kissed Oliver gently a few times before asking, “Are you okay?”
Slowly the boy’s eyes opened and he smiled. “Perfect.”
“Really?” He needed to ask because as the haze of the orgasm lifted, he worried he’d been too rough.
“I came without anyone touching my cock, so yes, really.”
Ben sighed with relief and kissed his beautiful lover with greater passion. His insatiable cock tried to rally, but he ignored it. Fucking was only part of what he wanted with Oliver. He wanted to talk, too, to get to know him better. First, though, he owed an apology.
“I’m sorry I treated you so shabbily around Vince, and after.”
Oliver raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to say that to me. I’m a slave. You treated me like one.” He shrugged. “That’s kind of how it works.”
Ben groaned. “I don’t want it to work like that.” He knew he sounded petulant, but that’s how he felt.
Oliver stroked Ben’s cheek. “You’re such a nice man. Please don’t feel bad about anything. I enjoy being with you no matter what we’re doing. I’m…happy with you.”
The simple declaration almost made Ben cry. He held it in, though, because he owed it to Oliver to be as happy as the slave said he was. Otherwise he would only be burdening the boy with his own problems. “I’m glad,” he said instead. “Being with you makes me happy, too.”
They cuddled for a while longer then went to the bathroom to clean up. Of course they ended up getting even messier when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The shower fixed that new problem. By the time they landed back in bed, they could only lie there with their bodies entwined. Still neither of them fell asleep, too intent on enjoying their time together. So Ben decided to satisfy his curiosity about Oliver even though he was afraid of some of the answers he would get.
“Tell me about your family.”
Oliver shifted a little in the tight hold of Ben’s embrace. “Well, I have a mother and a younger sister.”
“What about your father?” More-or-less-intact slave families were not uncommon, like Mary, John, and Danny.
Oliver shrugged. “My old master was my father as far as I know.”
Ben involuntarily tightened his grip. “No one ever told you?”
Oliver shifted his gaze downward. “No, we never spoke of it. I know that my mother’d been with him since she was my age. Because he’s this quiet, geeky kind of guy, he didn’t have many friends and didn’t go out much. I’m assuming he was the only one who had access to her.”
Ben couldn’t hide the cringe at the frank assessment of who had the opportunity to fuck his mother, rape her really, even if the law didn’t recognize it as such. ”Oh,” was all he could say, pathetically little.
“Hey, it’s okay.” And how fucked up was it that the slave had to comfort the freeman? “He was a pretty nice master in that he rarely punished us and mostly kind of ignored us.” Oliver paused. “I used to wonder why he bothered to let our mother breed twice given that he seemed not to take any pleasure in having kid
s.”
Oliver rolled over onto his back, forcing Ben to loosen his hold. “One morning about a week after I turned eighteen, we could hear our mother crying and begging in the master’s bedroom. That was something new. She sounded so desperately unhappy. The master yelled and he rarely did that.” Oliver’s breath hitched. “Then there was this awful thud and I knew he’d hit her, hard. He rarely hit her and never more than a quick slap or a strapping. This sounded more like a punch.
“The doorbell rang and the master went downstairs. My sister and I peeked out into the hall in time to see him walking away and our mother running out of the room after him. Even with a few feet between us, we could see her tears and split lip.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Anyway, it was the people from the brokerage house. They’d come for me. I guess I was only partly surprised. I’d known for a few years that I was destined to be a body slave. I guess I hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly once I turned eighteen. Obviously he’d bred me as an investment. I came out pretty enough to be a body slave, but if I hadn’t been, I guess he would have sold me for whatever he could get. Lucky him, making a kid that fetched a high price.”
Ben nuzzled against Oliver’s neck. “Lucky for me, too.”
Oliver smiled at the observation, but it was tinged with sadness. “Seeing my mother and sister crying as they tied and leashed me turned out to be the hardest part. I tried to tell them it was fine, that I’d be fine. I don’t think I did a very good job convincing them. I was pretty scared,” he added in almost a whisper.
“Anyone would have been. You’re very brave given what you have to deal with.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so. I’m just living my life. I’m still scared, though. Not for me, for my sister. She’s almost fifteen now and she was already beautiful by the time I last saw her.”
Oliver shifted and looked at Ben. The fear in his eyes showed clearly. “He’ll sell her when she turns eighteen, like he did me. I’m afraid for her, of what will happen to her. She’s so sweet. I don’t think she could handle being a body slave.”
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