Little Big Man

LITTLE BIG MAN – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: A PROMISE KEPT

Previously: In November, Alex was ordered to write the three most important things that happened since his first two weeks of slavery. He is telling the first of these stories, which occurred a few days after the party at which Alex has to take thirteen cocks.

Dmitri departs on a business trip, leaving Ilya in charge but entrusting the obligatory nightly fuck to Ruslan. Ilya, aware that Dmitri has not yet authorized spit-roasting, nevertheless makes Alex suck off staff members while Grigory is sodomizing him without lube - making Alex bleed. Taking pity on him, Ruslan penetrates Alex perfunctorily to obey Dmitri's orders, and allows him to share his bed, an experience Alex finds both luxuriant and stimulating. During the night, he witnesses Pyotr sneaking his boyfriend from town into his room; Ilya knows about this and uses it as leverage over Pyotr.

The next afternoon, the afternoon fuck is again pre-empted by Ilya, who rapes him – dry – followed by three of his friends, whom he evidently has persuaded' Pyotr to admit to the compound. Ilya mentions that one of his friends has an acquaintance who knows Alex – and that friend is none other than Latronius, the hulking maroon' from the boat who told Alex that he would eventually have his ass: `And that's a promise.'

ALEX: FRIDAY, JULY 8, AFTERNOON – PLAYROOM

• The last time I saw you, you had hair down here.

• (The last time you saw me I was a Top.)

• You look good without it – shows off your balls.

• (I'm sure that's the reason Master makes me shave my pubes.)

• Your cock is still pitiful, but at least I've managed to stimulate it. I guess you're happy to see me.

• (Or it could have something to do with the cord around my balls.)

• Oh, yeah, you're happy to see me.

• (Technically, I can't see you, Latronius. There's this hood over my head, ya know?)

• Say, `I'm happy to see you, Sir'. Oh, I forgot, you can't. Let me do something about that.

He opened the zipper on the hood in front of my mouth. Then he pulled out the penis gag, enabling me to speak, though at the moment I had no inclination to.

He reached down, grabbed my hand and pulled it to his crotch, revealing the unsurprising fact that he was nude. I say he reached down because my hands were barely above the floor. I was hanging by my ankles.

In the garden, Latronius had insisted on some `private time' with me. Led by Ilya acting as scout, he forced me through the slave tunnel to the playroom. To my satisfaction, he had to squat to get through it, whereas I sailed through.

Evidently, Latronius' presence was to be kept secret from everyone other than Pyotr, over whom Ilya had power. Since Pyotr controlled access to the estate, he might lose his job if Master became aware of unauthorized guests. Ilya might also be at risk, but then Ilya always managed to spin things in a way that kept him smelling like a rose.

We reached the playroom and Ilya left. The big Black then hooded me, suspended me upside down and tied up my genitals before beginning this conversation.

• Say, `I'm happy to see you, Latronius.'

• (I will not. You're not anyone I'm obligated to obey.)

I felt his hands against my abdomen, pushing hard. I began to swing, back and forth – and I discovered that the cord around my balls was also tied to rings hanging from the ceiling, making every inch of movement feel like my balls were being squeezed in a vise.

He pushed harder, like I was a child on a swing set. Only I was no child and I was not enjoying the ride. On the rebound, he caught me and punched me in the gut.

• You see, Wisconsin, I have you by the balls, quite literally. Now, I know your Master has given you strict instructions about speech, but he's not here now. So you and I can have a nice little chat before I fuck you. Got it, bitch?

• Yes, Sir.

The Sir' spilled out of me automatically, as if surgically attached to the word Yes' in the presence of a `Man'.

I heard him pull some kind of chain and my legs spread apart, leaving me in a Y-shape.

I felt his hand on my ass. And then I felt his tongue, licking the contours of my buttocks. It felt . . . sexy.

His tongue moved to my crack and licked my hole. Latronius was rimming me! Master had never done that. Despite the fact that my rectum had been torn to shreds, his tongue against my hole felt . . . good. Really good. After deflating during my pendulum act, I got stiff again.

• You like that, bitch, don't you?

• Yes, Sir.

Again, automatic – but it was true. I did. As sore as my asshole was, I was turned on by this.

I felt his tongue push inside, and then a finger. And then wetness – he was spitting on my hole. And then a finger again, maneuvering inside my torn rectum. And then more wetness, and another finger.

He crossed in front of me again and told me to open my mouth.

• I need a little more saliva on this thing.

`This thing' was his cock, and he pushed his organ past my teeth.

I remembered its taste. I remembered kinda liking its taste.. I remembered how much it troubled me that I didn't hate it.

• Suck.

I began to pull on his cock and blow on it, and lick it, and when he withdrew I maneuvered my head to find his balls, guessing where they were to take them into my mouth and caress them.

• Oh, yeah, baby, you've gotten better, haven't you? Slavery has been good for you.

Well, that last remark was questionable but there was no doubt that my cocksucking skills had improved.

• You taught me.

What just happened here? I was actually praising him, thanking him, trying to please him. That was strange – this was Latronius, the man I had dreaded on the boat, and yet the one maroon who had been honest with me, and who had helped me during some of the sex games – provided I was nice to him and let him inspect my ass.

But yes, I wanted to please him. I felt calm, relaxed, actually enjoying sucking Latronius' cock. He didn't deep-throat me, he let me take control and didn't force his cock on me. He wanted to see what I would do with that prodigious phallus. He was pleased. I was pleased. My cock was pleased.

He pulled out, well before climax.

• Gotta save my load for your ass, baby.

And then I felt his hands around my head, pulling off the snaps on the hood at the base of my head and gently tugging it off my head. I opened my eyes to find myself staring at that big black cock. And I wanted it back inside me.

• Your head is the color of a tomato, baby. All that blood rushing to your head. I think we'd better get you upright.

He lowered the chains and I used my hands to prevent my head hitting the floor while he released my ankles from the straps securing me to the chains.

• How about over the pommel horse? Would you like that?

As if I had a voice in it. He walked me over to the piece of gymnastic equipment, bent me over it, secured me, lubed me up further, and blindfolded me.

• This Ilya fellow – seems a bit of an asshole to me, would you agree?

• (Oh, yes.) If you think so, why is he your friend?

• Ilya's not my friend. Bogdan is my friend. He and I did time together. He was on a student visa in Louisiana and got a little carried away one night in a gay bar. So I met him in a place called Angola. Nice little prison if you like heat, crowded conditions and violence. That's why I knew I could get at you – Bogdan is Anatoly's best friend, and Anatoly knew someone at each of the Russians' places.

• And if I had wound up with the Prince?

• Well, I don't know anyone with the Prince. Then, I was just bluffing.

• Latronius? . . . Do you know where . . . ?

• Do I know where what?

• . . . Do you know where Minnesota is?

• Sorry, baby. I don't know about anyone else. I just asked Bogdan to locate YOUR sweet ass. So I could keep my promise and do this to it.

With that, he thrust his organ past my anal lips. I gasped but didn't scream. He went in slow, letting me feel the full size of his cock as he inched his way up my colon.

How do I describe Latronius' cock? It was nowhere as long as Grigory's, nor as thick as Ruslan's. And yet it was somehow gargantuan. He filled every inch of me in a way that neither Grigory nor Ruslan did. I know that seems impossible, given the monstrosity of those two servants' members, but it felt that way.

Latronius was pushing that prodigious phallus up an anal canal that had been badly injured due to multiple rapes without benefit of lube. And every nerve in my damaged rectum was sending signals of pain to my brain. And yet my brain was sending signals to my endorphins: I like this.

I was in pain, and yet I was in pleasure. Latronius' cock up my butt felt good, even though he was rubbing against tissue that had been ruptured. The smooth surface of his ass-filling organ rubbed against the lining of my colon; my brain knew that I should be hating this, but I wasn't. I felt the fullness of Latronius' penis, every inch of it straining to conquer my rectum, and conquer it it did, as easily as the Nazis walking into Paris and declaring it theirs.

I heard footsteps. Someone else was here.

• Hello, Pyotr. See what I'm doing to this nice white boy? You think he's hot, don't you, Pyotr – you want his ass. And Ilya deprived you of that outside. Well, you can have it when I'm done with it. Wisconsin – do you want Pyotr to fuck you?

• (My God, at that moment I actually did. I nodded.)

• Say it out loud. Say `Pyotr, fuck me!'

• (Like in a bad porn movie. But okay, I'll play along.) Pyotr, fuck me!

• Say `this hurts so good I can't stand it'.

• Why?

• Because I told you to, bitch. You know you love my cock in you, just admit it out loud.

• (WTF, why not.) This hurts so good I can't stand it.

• Now say it like you mean it.

• This hurts so good I can't stand it!

This last was punctuated with a grunt as Latronius assaulted me with a vicious thrust.

• `You fuck better than Dmitri'.

• You fuck better than Master!

• `You fuck better than Dmitri!'

• I'm not allowed to say his name.

• Like he's going to know?

• (He had a point. Oh, what the hell.) You fuck better than Dmitri!

• `Pyotr, I love you. I love the way you fuck me.'

Latronius increased his tempo, pushing hard. I was too concentrated on grunting, acquiescing to his power, to process the stupid things he was having me to say. But I knew the last one made no sense.

• Pyotr isn't fucking me. You are. Why should I say that?

• Don't you love the way he fucks? You're going to hurt his feelings. Say it – `Pyotr, I love you. I love the way you fuck me.'

The big Black went harder and harder and deeper and deeper, my prostate was thrilled. I would have said anything at that point.

• Pyotr, I love you. I love the way you fuck me!

Latronius was now drilling me at maximum tempo and force, and I felt my balls getting close to an explosion.

And then it came – an eruption. A feeling of ecstasy shot through my penis as I felt the hot liquid gush up my urethra. And out it went! I shot my load, ejaculating joyously onto the floor below. I had come without touching my cock.

And Latronius shot his load inside me moments later.

• Very nice, boy. You are one first-class piece of ass, well worth the wait. And Pyotr will love what you said, if someone translates it for him.

Latronius pulled out and, as a small stream of blood trickled down my leg, cleaned me up with a rag of some sort. He allowed me to stand up and removed the blindfold; I turned around to face Pyotr.

But it wasn't Pyotr. It was Ilya.

What the fuck, you should pardon the expression, was going on here? What had Latronius been up to, asking me to call out how I loved the way Pyotr fucked?

Then Ilya held up his phone.

He pressed a button and I listened to a recording of the conversation that Latronius and I had just had, adding:

• Mention one word of what went on today and Dmitri hears this tape.

If I'd been allowed to respond, I would have pointed out the lunacy of what he was proposing. Master would hear Latronius' voice on that tape. And he would know Pyotr was not responsible – and the logical person to suspect would be the one who brought him the tape.

The Man was a fool. But not so much of a fool as to give up the chance for another shot at my ass. And in he plunged.

And the only lubrication was my blood.

FRIDAY, JULY 8, EVENING – ILYA'S ROOM

• In a half hour you will go to the playroom where Ruslan will discipline you and fuck you. But I want to play you something first.

And I heard:

• Pyotr, fuck me! . . . This hurts so good I can't stand it! . . . You fuck better than Dmitri. . . Pyotr, I love you. I love the way you fuck me!

Latronius had been edited out completely. The only sounds were my own voice speaking – and grunting.

• A nice job of editing, wouldn't you say, Boy?

• (Sure.)

• I asked you a question; are you not responding?

• Yes, Sir, I'm responding. You did a nice job of editing, Sir.

• Oh, not me. Grigory. He's a whiz at technical things. That's why he's here tonight.

I had not heard him enter the room.

• Okay, Grigory, you can have your fuck. And you will have Pyotr's on Monday as well. You see, Boy, we cooperate. He scratches my back, I scratch his. He edits my tape, I give him extra fucks. So Boy, bend over. No, you don't deserve lube. You're a slave. Wear a condom, Grigory – we don't want Ruslan to have sloppy seconds.

The tall gardener did even more damage to my asshole. But I didn't really mind. In spite of the pain – or because of it? – I actually enjoyed it. Because the experience with Latronius had changed me.

FLASHFORWARD: TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 15, LATE AFTERNOON – MASTER'S BEDROOM

• Is why you choose this as one of your story? Because it change you?

• Yes, Master.

• How it change you?

• . . .

• How it change you, Alexei?

• . . .

• (slap!) How it change you, Alexei?!

• . . . This is hard for me to say.

• But you will say, Alexei. I am your Master.

• Yes, of course, Master. (Long pause) It changed me because . . . then I knew that I was . . .

• Continue.

• . . . that I really was . . .

• Really was what, Alexei?

• (whispered) Gay.

• Louder.

• Gay.

• You are admit that you are gay.

• Yes.

• Yes, Master.

• Yes, Master.

• Yes, Master I am admit that I am gay.

• Yes, Master, I am admit that I am gay.

• And yet you tell me for months you not gay.

• Yes, Master.

• But you know you gay.

• Yes, Master.

• You know you gay in July.

• Yes, Master.

• You lie to your Master.

• I . . . suppose you could interpret it that way.

• How else can interpret? I ask you if you know you gay, you say you not. And now you say you know from July. How is that not lie?

• It's . . . complex. I knew it but I didn't want to believe it.

• Why? What wrong with being gay? I gay. I happy being gay. Why not you happy being gay?

• It's the way I was brought up. In my hometown, gay people were not accepted. Outcasts. Scorned. Ridiculed. It was the worst thing you could be. Surely you understand that – here in Russia don't you have to hide your sexuality? Is it even legal?

• Legal have nothing to do with it. I gay and I proud of it, Alexei. System wrong, not me. I have nothing to be ashame. I am who I am and I like who I am and that all that matter. You are who you are, Alexei. You beginning to understand that who you are is boy who must serve Men. You are slave, Alexei. Not because I force, but because deep inside, you want to be slave. You should not be ashame. You should be proud. Good slave is to be proud of.

• I thought a slave should have no pride.

• Is – what is word Oleg taught me again? Paradox. You should feel proud of have no pride.

• That's a paradox all right.

This was the story I was afraid to tell. I'm sure there will be consequences – for Ilya especially, but Master will surely punish Pyotr for letting visitors into the house while he was away. But it should be clear from my account that Ilya is the most responsible party and I hope he loses his job.

FURTHER FLASHFORWARD – THURSDAY, 9 AUGUST OF FOLLOWING YEAR

DMITRI: You may wonder that, as subsequent events will reveal, Ilya did not lose his job. The reason he didn't is simply because the story you have just read was NOT what I had read before that conversation with Alexei. I read about Alexei discovering that he was gay, all right, but there was no mention of Latronius or how Ilya abused his authority – and Alexei's ass – during this episode. How was this possible? You will discover that later on in this narrative.

DMITRI: SATURDAY, 9 JULY, LATE AFTERNOON – ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA

When I returned from my trip, Alexei was waiting for me in the foyer displaying his ass as expected. What was unexpected was that Ruslan was with him, telling me we needed to talk about `Boy', as he was then named. I escorted him to the library. Alexei, as he had been trained, followed along.

• Boss, we should cancel the party tonight. It's just staff, no visitors.

• Ruslan, the business staff haven't fucked him all week. Why should we cancel the party?

• Look at him, Boss. His ass is a mess. He wouldn't be able to handle it. He'd be so damaged no one could use him for a while.

In English, I ordered Alexei up onto the conference table to present himself. I inspected his hole, which showed evidence of bleeding. Ruslan, having anticipated a need, had brought a rectal monitor – a small camera at the end of a probe. When connected to a computer, I could see images of Alex's colon.

I was shocked at what I saw. He had been ripped apart. The American phrase "tear him a new one" seemed to have come close to fruition.

• Ruslan, did you do this to him?

• No, Boss. I fucked him as little as possible, not to make matters worse. Enough to fulfill my obligation but I stopped as quickly as possible. I didn't even cum.

• Then how did he get this way?

• I don't know. Grigory did fuck him without lubrication on Thursday.

• How do you know this?

• I asked Boy.

• I've heard enough. Fetch Ilya. I left him in charge. He must know what happened.

Ilya arrived minutes later.

• Ilya, have you seen the condition in which you returned my slave to me?

• Yes, Boss, it's disgraceful. Ruslan informed me and I inspected Boy this morning.

• How do you account for this?

• I believe Grigory and Pyotr fucked him dry. Both men are large – Grigory extraordinarily so – and fuck brutally. I believe that Boy was fucked multiple times without lubrication.

• Thank you, Ilya.

I dismissed him and interrogated Alexei.

• Did Grigory and Pyotr fuck you without lube?

• (pause) Yes, Master.

• Multiple times?

• Yes, Master.

• Did Ruslan fuck you without lube?

• No, Master.

• Did Henri or Ivan fuck you while I was gone?

• No, Master.

So Grigory and Pyotr were responsible. Clearly, action had to be taken. I suspended their sex rights for two weeks. Grigory seemed to try to blame Ilya in some way but I wouldn't hear of it. The lad couldn't have been everywhere; what they did to Alexei can't be blamed on Ilya if he wasn't there. Grigory looked as if he had more to say, but didn't. Pyotr said nothing at all, taking his suspension in silence, but obviously was aggrieved.

I did not cancel the party. However, I limited it to the three staff members who had not had the opportunity to plant their cocks up Alexei's cunt all week – Sasha, Oleg, and Ilya. I gave them one fuck each and ordered them to go easy. I sacrificed my own nightly use of him for the benefit of the others, and wanting to keep the slave in as good shape as possible for the coming week.

I wasn't altogether surprised that Grigory had decided to abuse Alexei, but I was surprised at Pyotr. Pyotr, while an enthusiastic fucker, wasn't cruel, and both Henri and Oleg had noticed that he had developed quite a fondness for Alexei. But Grigory and Pyotr had a rivalry of sorts, and I suspected that Grigory had egged the chauffeur on, perhaps challenging him to rape Alexei dry and calling him out as soft if he didn't.

I was disappointed that Ilya had not kept a tighter lid on their activity, but the lad was young and probably not ready for a real leadership role. Doubtless he didn't want to offend the servants, both of whom were older than him. Well, he'll learn from this and do better next time.

I am both pleased and angry with Alex. I am pleased that he finally acknowledged his true sexuality. I am angry – very angry – that he lied to me.

And this both furthers my understanding of his development as a slave and confuses it. It was about the time of this incident that I had noticed an increased responsiveness, an easing into slavery, progress toward making the adjustment toward eventually embracing the concept of permanent subjugation. But then something changed – for the last two months he has been different, withdrawn, obliging but perfunctory. I need to find out why. Perhaps the other two stories will explain it.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER 40 - SEEMS LIKE OLD TIMES]