Her hand dropped lower and grabbed hold of his cock. Her free arm pinned him back against her breasts with an effortless, powerful hold, squeezing the air from his chest. The smooth one knelt in front of him and pressed her dark-blue lips up against his. Losing control of his hips, he found himself rocking backwards and forwards, trying to savor every sweep of the fake’s hand. Her gripping arm shifted down, fixing his hips in place so he could no longer thrust. Willing his hips to move with every sinew, he fought against the immovable strength of the false goddess. “Please, just don’t stop. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.” Strange how quickly a chosen brother can become a lustful animal. The Mister always spoke of how easy it is to be tempted.
A dull emptiness hit him as the wonderful fast hand movements stopped. A breathy whisper moistened his ear. “Anything? You know what you have to do then.”
Every hour for the last five days they had repeated this act. When he begged, they gave him the choice to lie with the big light-blue beast above or to continue sitting in the dark with no release. After their visit, on the very first day, he gave in.
“So you have broken already and desire me, Blue Owin,” he remembered Grietum saying in her chilling voice. He mustn’t have given a convincing enough performance of his desire for her because he was quickly whisked away, back to his cell. And that’s where he had remained.
How could anybody desire that fucking light-blue blob? “No,” he snapped at the offer made by the two fakes. “But please, I know how to satisfy goddesses. I’ll give you pleasure, I promise.” Mother, please forgive me. I know they are false but I can’t take anymore. He prayed for forgiveness for his weakness.
“We don’t need a male to give us pleasure.”
The two fakes knelt next to each other in front of his chained hands, close enough for him to touch their breasts. The smooth one started rubbing the other’s sacred place. Their dark lips pressed together and Owin could hear the noises from their mouths. Blue specks dusted their perfectly smooth cheeks. Performing for him, the two fakes pleasured each other with their fingers. The taller one moaned as the other licked her sacred place, her tongue occasionally slipping inside.
Owin felt a tightness building. He watched the smooth one throw her head back and bite her lip every time the other fake gave a flick of the tongue. And then it happened. He lost control. His cock pulsed. Seed unleashed. It hit the smooth false goddess on her side and stomach. The fakes looked terrified. They locked stares with each other, then looked up at the grid into the throne room. The feeling was beginning to subside. A cool wave washed over Owin. He hadn’t felt it since that time in the Mister’s chamber.
The smaller fake grabbed him around the neck and he felt the colossal power of her slender arm. She spoke with a tight jaw, warning, “Blue Owin, you mustn’t speak about what just happened. In the hunt, a male should not…” The older of the two fakes stared at the young brother’s dripping seed on the smooth one’s body. He was released from the strong grip. Both fakes backed away, looking regretful.
The Mother had rewarded his strength with some brief relief. The animal had gone from inside him. He was a bold, chosen brother again. “What would happen if she found out about this?” he asked the nervous-looking fakes.
“She mustn’t!” the smooth one snapped. They scurried off out of the cell, locking the door behind them.
For the first time since his arrival in his cell, Owin felt tired. He leaned forward to rest his head on the pole.
He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but he woke to a voice whispering, “Hey, are you alright?”
Owin’s head sprung up in a daze. His eyes focused on the face in front of him. He saw a pair of blue eyes looking back from a pale looking, naked male.
“I’m Louis. I thought you were fucking dead or something.”
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Owin teased out a yawn. “You’re the one Grietum just got, aren’t you? The one with two names…Why do you have two names?”
“I don’t have two names. I’m called Louis Barkón.” The male didn’t seem distressed by the fact he was chained up naked next to another male.
If he’s a slave then he must be used to this sort of thing, Owin thought as he eyed him up and down. His body was thin but Owin could tell he must have worked hard all his life, as his muscles were lean and clearly defined. “You do have two names! Louis and Barkon.”
“Barkón,” the male corrected, stressing the on at the end of his second name. “That’s just my name. Louis is my given name and Barkón is my family name. My father had it too and my grandfather before him.
“I’m Owin,” said Owin.
“Owin who?”
“Just Owin. I only need one name,” he stated the obvious to the stranger who was kneeling opposite him.
Louis…or Barkón…screwed up his face, “Eh? Well, what name did your father have?”
What the fuck is a father? Owin quickly changed the conversation, asking, “How old are you?”
“I’ve seen eighteen warm-seasons and been a slave for as long as I can remember.”
Slaves were used widely in the Land of the Old Ways, Owin had been told. The Mother teaches that slavery is wrong. It is one of the many travesties that the Mister saved the brothers on the island from. They used slaves for many different purposes. Some were used to plough fields and build structures, and some were made to lie in their master’s beds.
“What did you do as a slave in…where was it again?”
“Santé. It’s the capital city of Arland Province. And I was a worker in the fields until I came of age. Then I was sold as a bed slave for rich women with no husbands.” Louis looked almost proud about his work as a slave.
He says ‘women’ instead of ‘goddesses’ too. I can guess what a bed slave does but, “What is husband and rich?”
“You don’t have a fucking clue about anything, do you?” Louis laughed.
At least I don’t believe in some fucking god that you think saves you from the fire, you idiotic fuck, Owin wanted to say, but the need for a friend was too great as he knelt naked in the dripping cell. He forced a laugh and looked at his own tied hands and pole that held him in place, and joked, “Well at least I’m not naked, tied to a pole…”
Louis sniggered. “So what do they make you do here?”
Owin explained everything that had happened to him in his time in the cell. He purposefully used the word women to describe the false goddesses as he couldn’t be bothered correcting Louis’s understanding of it all. None of it seemed to bother his new friend. “Why are you smiling at all this?” Owin asked.
“It’s a warm cell.” He looked around the humid dark space. “Women come in and hand you off and you don’t have to touch another man’s cock. This is alright really. Better than ending up forced to fight under the Dome on Narscape!”
His grin annoyed Owin. “How can you be happy chained up here?! And yeah they touch you and everything, but they just do it to tease you. You never get to finish!” As he spoke, Owin was suddenly very aware he was naked and tried to hide his shame, but failed miserably.
Louis was thinking. “So they don’t ever want you inside them?”
“No, only that beast up there does.” He pointed up through the grid to the throne room.
Louis looked as if he had just bitten sour fruit.
They sat in silence for a while. They chatted about their homes, then there was more silence, followed by a performance from two of Grietum’s daughters. This cycle repeated until evening by Owin’s estimation.
That night, two fakes came in and unlocked the pole that restrained them. They tilted it so that it lay on the ground. This allowed (or forced) the two to lie on their sides. Owin was relieved to be off his knees. It was as if the metal floor was a fluffy cloud. The crumpled piece of toweling they threw at him felt like a plump pillow under his face. He recognized one of the fakes. It was the smooth one, upon whom his seed had landed earlier.
“Hey,” he sho
uted in a whisper to her, “you should undo our wrists for tonight.”
She stopped and stood over Owin, resting a foot on his chest. When she extended her leg, the massive force from the slender limb, pinned him to the ground and squeezed the air from his lungs. “Shut up, Blue. Why should I do that?”
“Because I’ll tell that thing up there what happened earlier today when I…” He flicked his eyes towards his cock and made a squirting noise with his mouth. His stare met hers again, unblinking.
She withdrew her foot from his chest and dropped to a crouch next to him—her bright-blue eyes widened, darting from Owin to the grid above. “No, you mustn’t! I will release your hands for this night. But if she looks, you must pretend to be tied. And you mustn’t pleasure yourself.”
The young brother had no intention of doing so, as it was a sin. He just wanted to be able to scratch his back and perhaps lie with his hands under his head. “I swear by the Mother I will not soil my body in such ways.”
“You speak in strange words, Blue Owin,” the smooth fake uttered as she unlocked his hands and went to leave the cell.
“And his,” Owin commanded, while rubbing his chaffed wrists.
She huffed and did as she was told, then left.
Louis thanked Owin then went stand and stretch.
Owin grabbed him, pulling him back down. “We can’t be seen untied,” he hissed. “Stretch on the ground if you have to.”
Louis lowered his voice too. “How did you manage to get her to untie us?”
Owin explained what had happened earlier before Louis had joined him in the cell. His new friend chuckled. “Nice! Did a load hit her?”
“What do you mean?” Why are you finding all this funny? It was a sin for me to get pleasure from a fake. Owin couldn’t believe that Louis let himself be drawn in by them.
“She was a hot piece of meat and you unloaded on her…I would’ve fucking loved it if a rich bitch looking like her came into our bedding-house and requested me! I would’ve ridden her all night. Those blue lips and freckles make me hard.” Louis thrust his hips and hissed another laugh.
“Keep still, you fucking idiot, she’ll see,” Owin warned, looking up through the grid, checking that Grietum was asleep. All was silent up in the throne room. I probably shouldn’t have called him a fucking idiot, Owin thought as the cell fell silent for some time. They lay on their sides facing each other so they could quickly pretend to be chained if needed.
The silence was screaming to be broken. “What’s a bedding-house?” Owin asked. “You said something about a bedding-house earlier.”
“It was where I was a slave after I came of age. Do they not have them where you come from?” Louis looked at Owin through the darkness of the cell as if he had said something very strange.
“No. What are they?” Owin asked.
Louis shook his head and began to explain. “It’s where rich people go to lie with anybody they want. We got all kinds of people: rich women with no husbands wishing to be given a child, men wishing to lie with other men, women wishing to lie with women, and others into strange shit. Some ask for people like me because of my blue eyes. We were kept in one of the backrooms away from everybody else.”
“Brothers lie with brothers?” Owin felt slightly disgusted. “Wait, sorry. I mean, men lie with men?” he corrected himself remembering that Louis wouldn’t know what a brother is.
“Yes, men lie with men, what’s wrong with that? And yes, we’ve had people ask to lie in the same bed with two brothers…twins once.” Louis laughed as if remembering a story from long ago.
Brothers and men are the same thing, aren’t they? He’s confusing…
“But yes, it’s common for men to come looking to lie with men, or boys younger than they are. I was a popular choice because I was young and…forbidden,” he said, pointing to his blue eyes. “I found it difficult with men as I only find girls get me hard. But my duty as a slave meant I had to perform no matter if it was a man or a woman. A buyer would come in and sit on a soft seat. We would be presented to them in a line. Normally, there would be around eight of us, a mix of male and female and the buyer would look at us and choose.”
“You said you didn’t want to lie with men…So why did you do it?”
Louis looked as if the answer was obvious. “Because I belonged to the owner of the bedding-house. It was the only way to earn my keep there. If I didn’t, I would have been out on the street. And, in Arland, somebody with blue eyes would have been chased out into the wilds if seen. I didn’t have a choice.”
Everybody has a choice! “So how did you end up here?” Owin asked.
“Bedding-houses that sell blue-eyed people are against our laws in Arland Province, so my master had to flee and is now selling off all his slaves to anybody who will have us.” He smiled as if it was a happy ending to the story.
They both lay on their sides in the dark cell, with the blue beast gently snoring in the throne room above. Owin felt himself drifting into sleep when Louis’s voice interrupted, “So what’s your story? How did you end up here?”
Owin talked for what seemed like an hour. Telling Louis of his home on the island; the trials, the Mister, the vision-chamber…even the red glow. The only information he left out was the part about putting an arrow through Leon.
“It sounds like an amazing place. You’re lucky!” Louis said, rolling onto his back. Owin couldn’t help but notice his cock was larger than his own.
“I wasn’t lucky. I was chosen to be there.”
“If you say so…But why wasn’t I chosen?”
“Because you have clearly sinned a shit-load.” How dare you question the Mother’s choices!
“I hadn’t when I was a baby though. You were chosen when you were a baby. This Mother of yours sounds a lot more powerful than my mother ever was!”
Owin didn’t know what the idiot was talking about. “She’s not my Mother. She is Mother to all of us. And what do you mean, your mother? There is only one!”
“I mean the woman who squeezed me out into the world…”
“You mean the goddess who birthed you!” I think this one has been smoking the same stuff that Saul was puffing!
“You’re a weird fucker, Owin,” he said, with an almost disappointed laugh. “But you freed my hands, and my cock will be thanking you later for that.” He reached down and started doing what should only be done in the vision chamber.
“May the Mother forgive you,” Owin prayed, rolling over onto his side, facing away from Louis. He fell asleep to the snoring of Grietum and the fast slapping of wet flesh.
The fifth day was not like the others. After morning visits from the fakes, one of them led him from his cell to a bedchamber on the same level as the throne room. His small, blonde guide shoved him into the room. The strength from her seemingly effortless push was enough to throw him off balance, nearly stumbling onto the bed. The fake stood in the doorway, and said sharply, “This is yours for the rest of the day and for tonight.”
She left him and slid the door closed, and he noticed that it was hidden within the thickness of the wall. She locked it with a loud metal clunk. It was like a miniature, single version of the huge set of double sliding doors that he and Baskie stood at when they first arrived at Grietum’s Hive. He remembered being blinded by the desert sun after their hoods were removed. Sand had surrounded him and a dry heat had prickled his skin. Then, the two hulks of metal which must have been three stories high, split apart with no sign of anybody pulling them open. The grinding echoed off the red, rocky hills behind. The rusted metal hive jutted out of the slope with only the doors and a small section exposed to the sun.
His thoughts returned to the present moment, and to the wonderful gift he had just been given. Mother, thank you, he prayed as he threw himself face-first onto the double-sized bed. What have I done to deserve this? Are the fakes still scared I’ll tell the beast about their mistake? Or is this a trick to tempt me more? As his naked body sank down, it
was hard to remember any of his worries.
He flipped onto his back. The restful, snug room was lit by three candles. It was nice to be back in natural flame. Everywhere in Grietum’s Hive was either dark and dank, like his cell, or illuminated with strange blazing orbs. They weren’t fire. It was too well contained and steady to be a proper flame. The circular lanterns glowed with a constant even light. The sorcery that lit them buzzed like an insect.
Like everywhere else in Grietum’s Hive, his little room, which he had been gifted, had no windows. The bed hugged his bare body as he stretched out in all directions, letting himself sink into the softness.
Time was forgotten as he lay in the bed’s embrace and the warmth of the room. The door-lock clicked open. He sprung up, crouching with his legs underneath him on the bed, ready for what was coming. When Baskie was revealed, sliding the door open, he ran over and hugged him.
Owin blurted to his friend, “It’s so good to see you! Well, I’ve seen you from below sometimes but obviously couldn’t talk.”
Baskie, who normally annoyed the Mother out of him with his weird disbelieving theories, was a welcome sight. There wasn’t much in the way of a hug back. He assumed this was due to Baskie’s aversion to any kind of nakedness. Owin backed off and sat on the bed, covering his bits with a pillow.
His stubborn friend stood, rooted to the spot, staring at the floor. A quick shake of his head seemed to return him to the world. “Sorry, it’s good to see you too,” Baskie uttered in a monotone voice. He wandered and perched on the end of the bed.
Owin stared at Baskie’s slumped shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s happened?” Well that’s a stupid question. We’re stuck in some metal prison with a big blue bitch keeping us as slaves…
“I’ve just had some bad news, that’s all.” He sighed, then turned to face Owin, crossed legged on the bed. Their eyes met for the first time since they were taken prisoner. “I need to talk to you about something. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about, but I doubt you’ll like it or agree.”
A Poisoned Land (Book 1: Faith, Lies and Blue Eyes) Page 28