Little Big Man

By Travis Creel

Published on Feb 17, 2023

LITTLE BIG MAN – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE: THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT

Previously: Dmitri, after winning Matti in the diving contest, refuses to sell him back to the Family as previously agreed. Outraged at what they consider a double-cross, the Family demands Alexei or Nodak as a substitute, as Abdullah is now slaveless. Instead, Dmitri, as part of a plan devised by Ruslan, surprises everyone by providing them with a replacement slave – Ilya. Which pleases everyone not named Ilya.

Dmitri, not needing two slaves, gifted Matti to Ruslan to serve as the first slave of his own; accompanied by Sasha and Oleg, Ruslan and Matti flew off to Dmitri's dacha in Pskov. A week later, they have not returned to St. Petersburg, and Alexei is unaware that Matti has been spared.

Back in St. Petersburg, Alexei throws himself into being a good slave to bury his despair over Matti. The weekly party is also on Alexei's birthday; as there are fourteen participants, there is to be a second bottom, and Alexei is pleased when he hears them bring in Rodion; the two are used for a few hours. Afterwards, Alexei is untied and informed `You may fuck him.' But at the moment, Alexei doesn't want Rhody's body, he needs his ear – to unload his despair over Matti.

ALEXEI: SUNDAY, JANUARY 22, PRE-DAWN HOURS – PLAYROOM

I freed myself from the loosened ropes and removed my blindfold. After hours of sex and punishment, I was anxious for a chance to talk to Rhody. Master had said I could fuck my `birthday present'; had the timing been different I would have leapt at the chance. It had been a long time since I had gotten my rocks off and my cock always responded to the presence of Rhody's body.

I looked over and regarded the nude form draped and tied over a fucking bench.

Even from forty feet away and from behind, I could tell that it was not Rhody. Rhody was far more muscular than that, and his ass more oblong. From behind, this looked more like Nodak. But I had heard them very distinctly call him `Rodion'.

I approached the body. And nearly fainted.

Matti?????!
That's my official name, but my close friends call me 4387.
You're alive!
Well, if I'm dead, son, then your Master and several of his friends have been engaging in necrophilia for the last several hours.
Oh my God, I don't believe this. You won your trial?
Dude, I never had a trial.
Then Ruslan . . . wow, I should have trusted him. Matti, I'm so goddam, fucking, screamingly happy right now. I am on Cloud Ninety-nine-thousand-and-infinity. I can't believe they let you visit!
They didn't.
They didn't?
I think I live here now.
(awed silence)
So if you're going to fuck me, dude, get on with it.
(untying him) I'm not going to fuck you. Matti, I've got so many questions, I don't know where to start.
Me, too. What's the food like here?
(stopping untying him) Excuse me?
Do you get meat?
Seriously, dude? The first thing you want to ask is if I get meat?
Can I help it if I miss meat? I haven't had meat since the boat.
I can believe that. I've sampled the palace cuisine.
Pennsylvania said the kitchen slaves got camel meat once in a while, but I never saw any.

DMITRI: Let me interject here. You may be wondering about the week he spent with Ruslan after leaving the palace. Didn't Ruslan give him meat? The answer is `no'. I advised Ruslan, during the week in Pskov, to treat Matti like he was still a palace slave – cold showers, hardwood sleeping quarters, the lot. It would solidify Ruslan's identity as Master and not just liberator, keep Matti humble. And make his transition to a gentler life style more gradual.

ALEX: When I set him free, he slipped off the bench and nearly lost his balance trying to right himself, his muscles stiff from the hours of restraint. I steadied him. And studied him.

I pulled him toward me and felt his body against mine. His masculine aroma overwhelmed my senses and my lower half sprang to life. I felt his arms around me and soon we were all tongues for about two minutes.

He reached down and took hold of my tumescent cock.

You sure you're not going to fuck me?
Well, it looks to me as if you're equally up to the task.
`Up' is the operative word. I – God, Cheesehead, I love you.

We kissed again, only for about thirty seconds this time. Which didn't do a thing for lowering our mutual tumescences.

Like I said, I have so many questions. Only mine are not about food.
Just as well. Although anything you want to know about porridge – I'm your man.
Mine are a little more basic. Like what are you doing here?
Your Master won me, remember? Big rectangular thing, filled with water, we go splash-splash against each other? As I recall, my last dive wasn't too good, and your Master won me.
Yes, but he was supposed to sell you back to them. And then at your trial – Oleg said they'd rigged it so that you would lose, and you'd go up on the dome.
Well, Cheesehead, Oleg – whoever that is – was wrong. They shipped me out the next day.
The next day? You didn't come here. Where did you go?
Honestly, dude, I don't know. We were there for a week and then this afternoon they put me on another plane and flew me here. Weird experience, being put on a plane stark naked. Private jet, airstrip, no one around to see a naked slave walking on the tarmac. And the line at the security check was really short. Sure saves time when you don't have to take off your shoes or empty your pockets.
Saves even more when the security check doesn't exist. Why didn't they take you straight here?
I think my Master wanted me to transition in a more intimate environment. I get the impression this is a big household. Although, in terms of household, this would definitely be downsizing for me.
Wait. You were with your Master?
They don't let slaves run around unsupervised, in case you haven't noticed.
So your Master is not my Master?
Be hard for the dude to be in two places at once.
Then who is your Master?
He said his name was Marat. He said he worked for your Master, and he definitely knows you.
There's no one here named Marat. Are you sure he works for my Master?
That's what he said. That's why I think I'm living here.
What does he look like?
You can't miss him. Big, powerful dude, and the cock on him! It's as thick as a Louisville Slugger.
Ruslan? Your Master is RUSLAN?!
Well, he said he was Marat. But I did hear the others calling him Roo something. I figured it was a nickname or an insult – maybe it was Russian for `Cheesehead'.
The others. Ah. So that explains why none of them were here. Ruslan and Sasha and Oleg and Ilya – they were all with you.
That's four Men. There were only three. Master and two others.
There should have been three others. One in his thirties, like five-ten, black hair, one in his late twenties, taller and sandy-haired, one in his mid-twenties, blond and just a little bit taller than us.
Wait, you're describing the three assistants who were with him at the pool.
Yeah – Sasha and Oleg and Ilya.
Ilya - he's the shorter, blond one?
Yeah.
He wasn't with us. Dude, he was my replacement.
WHAT??
He's a slave now. I'd thought your Master was going to sell me back to the Family, like you told me, but he double-crossed them and gave them this Ilya dude instead. He was ROYALLY pissed, I'll tell you that. And they like fucked him a dozen times.
Ilya a slave? Ha!

This explained a lot. Master DID care about all the things that Ilya had done. He was just waiting until now to punish him.

But here's the weird thing, Alex. The really weird thing. I met Master a month ago.
Huh?
And he was posing as a slave.
What???!
Exactly. It's very confusing – and complicated. But he might have saved my life then. Alex, I was in trouble. Someone had tried to poison Prince Abdullah, my old Master. And a lot of people thought I did it. But Prince Abdullah knew I would never do that and went to his father for help. And Master – my new master, the guy you called Rooster –
Ruslan.
Roose-lawn. Anyway, he pretended to be a slave, because they thought that only a slave could get the truth out of other slaves. Which he did, and cleared my reputation. But he had to be naked the whole time he was there and even got fucked like us.
My mind is reeling. The man is all top. Why would he agree to do that?
I can't tell you how shocked I was when I saw him last week with clothes on. He said that he was about to become a slaveowner himself – little did I know he meant me – and apparently in order to get approved by the Slaveowners Guild – whatever they call it, the group that had that convention in September –
IAMSO.
. . . You are so what?
No, IAMSO. That's the name of it. I-A-M-S-O. The International Association of Male Slaveowners.
Whatever. Anyway, apparently in order to become a member, you have to go through forty-eight hours of slavery yourself. Like a fraternity initiation on acid.
That's where he was the week he was gone! Now it makes sense – well, it doesn't make SENSE sense, but at least it explains it.
I've been doing a lot of thinking about what happened last Friday night. I think Prince Abdullah knew your Master was not going to sell me back to them if I lost. That's why he ordered me to lose my balance on the last dive. He knew I would be safe and wouldn't have to go up on the dome. And you'd be safe as well.
Why would Prince Abdullah care about MY safety?
He wouldn't. But my new Master did. He said something odd to me. He said, like they all do, that what a slave thinks or feels doesn't matter, because he's just a slave. But then he said, "but what Alexei feels does matter to me". He wanted to protect you, Alex. He didn't want you living at the palace.
Wow.
And another thing: He knew about us. I said, Alexei, who's Alexei? And he said, `you knew him as Alex'. I had told him last month that I was in love with a guy named Alex and he figured out it was you.
You told him you were in love with me?
I did. I am.
I feel another kiss coming on.

We engaged in some sexy smooching for a while, and when we came up for air, the next question he asked was also not one I was expecting.

You have a Russian name now? They call you Alexei.
Yeah, after about two months, they give you a Russian name if they like you, or think they might like you. Kinda like a trial, but with no risk of exacerbating your acrophobia.
I don't have acrophobia. Finns are notoriously good at heights. It's because we're so close to the top of the world.
You sure you're not Irish? `Cause you're full of Blarney.
Seriously, dude. I was kind of freaked out tonight. Master wasn't there, and there was this other dude – he looked exotic, like Asian but not quite Asian, I don't know –
That was Nurbek.
You know him? Anyway, he kept calling me Rodion. Is that my new name?
(laughing) No, you're not Rodion. Rodion is Rhody.
Rhody?
Nurbek works for Rhody's Master. You remember John from the boat? That's Rhody's Master. His name is Yuri.
Why did they call me Rodion then?
Very simple. They wanted to fool me – and they did. They wanted me to think you were Rhody.
Have you seen Rhody? Oh, I guess you did in September when you all came to the palace.
Yeah, I've seen Rhody a few times. They even let us . . .
Let us what?
Talk to each other.
That isn't what you were going to say.
No, it isn't.
What was it they let you do?
. . .
Alex? This is Matti, you can tell me anything.
They let us have sex.
. . . Wow. Slaves having sex with each other. That's not something I – well, they let trusties fuck other slaves, but that's just to make sure that everybody gets their daily quota in, and also to keep the trusties motivated. But you and Rhody. Huh.
Don't say `huh' like that.
There was always something between you. It was more than just friendship.
. . .
Alex?
. . . Oh, Matti.
It's okay.
You weren't here. Rhody's in love with me, he always has been, and I thought – well, I'd never see you again, and after Mogadishu I thought you hated me –
I didn't, but I wanted YOU to hate ME.
I know. You know who told me that? Rhody. He said you staged that whole fight because you wanted to make it easier for me to break up with you. He also said that's why you were so cruel at the swimming pool. I did think you hated me, Matti, until you called me `Cheesehead'.
(singing) "Let me call you Cheesehead, I'm in love with –"
Stop. As a singer, you're no Ohio. Anyway, Rhody – he knows what I feel for you, Matti. I do feel for him – a lot, but it's mostly just physical.
He's a good guy. He lives near here?
Yeah. Like a half hour away. Nodak and Wyoming are in Moscow.
And this is . . . ?
St. Petersburg.
How are they? Rhody and Nodak. Wyoming I don't give a shit about.
They're good. Rhody especially. He likes his Master, and I think the feeling is mutual. He likes Nurbek, too, the way I like – well, never mind. Nodak is worried that his Master won't keep him when his year is up.
`When his year is up'?
Yeah. They do Little Big Man every year, did you know that?
Ah. Explains why there are so many short American dudes at the palace.
So at the end of the year, the four of them – Master and Yuri and the other two – Peter and Thomas on the boat – pick a slave from the contest. They then have to decide which to keep – the new slave or their current one. The other gets sold. Nodak thinks he'll be sold, because his Master likes Black boys. He tried to get Noisy but Noisy wound up at the palace.
I presume your Master is happy with you, you have no worries?
. . . I don't know, Matti. He's told me that I'm obedient, but I haven't fully embraced my slavehood. He thinks it's because of you. I think maybe bringing you here is supposed to be a giant test. The fact that I know you're safe – will that fix everything? Or will your presence be a distraction?
Will it?
Yes, it will be a distraction. But if you're here, Matti – if you're here for real, I think I can stand anything. I will be the best damn slave on God's green earth, because with you here, I know I can truly be happy.
And Rhody?
Rhody . . . Rhody's a good guy, he'll be happy for me. It will hurt him, but he's mature. He'll be okay. Maybe we can have a ménage a trois sometime.
I'll settle for a ménage a deux. Without Rhody.
You and Wyoming, you mean.
Fuck Wyoming.
Ah, so you do mean. Actually, Matti, he's not so bad, once you get to know him. The assholic nature of his personality is just a cover-up for his insecurity.
He covers it up well.
He told me something interesting, though. It turns out that for the last competition on the boat, we were supposed to vote for one whole table to be turned into Bottoms. The leaders were using subliminal images in that video they were showing us, to get us to vote against the red table.
Cheesehead, I was at the red table.
I know. But that vote never happened because the Prince Regent came on board and said, sorry, you're not doing that; instead, we're going to play this ball-guillotine game. Awful as that was, ironically the only reason we're together tonight is because he did that. You stayed a Top, and wound up with a palace VIP – the Prince Regent's son.
Wow. There but for the grace of ferric acid go I.
Ferric acid?
It's iron-y.
I'll ignore that. Of course Latronius was spreading false rumors about me wearing clothes, campaigning to get you all to vote against MY table. Because if I was a Bottom, he was allowed to fuck me.
Which, happily, he never got a chance to do.
. . . Not on the boat, anyway.
What do you mean? He fucked you somewhere else?
Yeah. Here.
What the fuck?
Literally. Master was away on a business trip, and Latronius knew a dude who knew a dude who knew Ilya – and Ilya helped sneak him into the house so he could fuck me. He did it several times.
Was your Master so mad about that that he had to make Ilya a slave?
It wasn't just that. There was some funny business with a computer that resulted in our gardener getting arrested, but I think it was really Ilya who did . . . whatever he did. Also, Ilya tried to blackmail me.
Pardon my asking, but how can you blackmail a slave? `Give me all your money, and all your clothing or I'll – oh, wait, never mind.'
He made me pretend I was running away and shot a video of it. He threatened to show it to Master if I didn't lie for him. He implied that Master would geld me if I tried to run away. I don't know if that's true or not.
Yeah, well, that's a popular remedy at the palace, I'll tell you.
Does that happen a lot? Besides Del and the others from the boat – South Dakota and Mississippi and Oregon – are there a lot of eunuchs?
Some. But most masters like to play with our balls, so they only geld slaves they find unsatisfactory.
Like South Carolina.
Like South Carolina.
Florida?
I don't think Florida was at the palace. He wouldn't have lasted anyway. By the way, you never answered my question. Do you get meat?
(smiling) Oh, yeah, I get regular food. Henri – that's the chef – makes enough for me to have some of what everyone else eats. No porridge, and I get to eat with a knife and fork.
Sweet! I couldn't tell how much of what I was experiencing was just the palace and how much was the whole slave thing.
You know there's a whole set of rules for slaves, right? IAMSO – that organization they all belong to - they have a whole set of rules you have to follow. Like being naked at all times. Getting fucked every day. Not being able to speak unless directed or asked a question. Nightly discipline. All that is universal. The rest, I guess, is up to the Master.
Like porridge.
Yeah. Good news, though – you get toilet paper here.
Toilet paper, toilet paper – hmmm, rings a bell.
And hot showers.
Water comes in more than one temperature?
It does.
Tell me you have beds. I'd give anything to sleep in a bed.
Alas, no. On the floor. But I have a large doggy bed that I can curl up into.
Your Master into pup play?
No, it's not that, just a thing to sleep in. I don't know if they have another one for you, but at least there's carpeting. That patch of bare floor was unnecessarily cruel.
A lot of things down there were unnecessarily cruel. Like the executions for bad slaves. . . . Alex?
Yeah?
Can you live past forty? At the palace nobody does. I mean nobody, not even the best slave ever. They don't release him. They don't sell him. It's Level One, nothing painful or humiliating, but he's still dead. Is that one of the universal rules or is that a palace thing?
I don't know. At the convention, they said there were humane methods' of dealing with the aging slave'. I don't know what they consider humane and I don't know what they consider aging. Master has never said anything about forty. But your rather depressing question reminds me of a question I have. The slave before me was a guy named Jackson. I found out that he was sent to the palace and might have been gelded. Did you ever come across a slave named Jackson?
Dude. Slaves down there don't have names. They're just `boy' or their number.
Shit, I forgot.
Though Prince Abdullah used to call me Matti when we were alone. He would never do it around anyone else, I think it wasn't allowed. But it was nice. He was . . . I think he fancied me and wished I wasn't a slave.
I'm glad you're a slave. Because I'm a slave, which makes us equals.
Never equals, Cheesehead. You can't compete with a first-class Finn.
That may be true. I'll let you know if I ever find one.
Am I at least a second-class Finn?
I think I'll grant you that.
Would you give a second-class Finn another one of those excellent kisses?
I would.
Would you give a second-class Finn more than one of those excellent kisses?
(a smile)
He said you could fuck me.
I don't want to fuck you, Matti. I want us to make love.
. . . You're sure?
Matti, I turned you down on the boat; I wasn't ready then. Since then I've had sex hundreds of times.
Once with me, and that was not a moment I'm proud of.
Should I give you a second chance?
Do I deserve one?
We all deserve second chances, Matti. This – this coming together – this miracle – this is our second chance.
So who does who?
You decide.
No, you're the birthday boy. You decide.
Okay, I'm thinking of a number. If you guess it, you do me. If you don't, I do you.
What, between one and ten?
One and a thousand.
Six hundred and fifty-three.
That was it.
I always was good with numbers. But – I mean, it's your birthday. You should get your rocks off.
Oh, I will. You have a mouth, don't you?
Last time I checked.
Then what are you doing on your feet?
(grinning and falling to his knees) At your service, sir.

I'm not going to describe our lovemaking. It was too intimate, too personal for anyone else to read. It would sound like having sex, and it was so much more than having sex. Yes, I came in his mouth and he came in my ass, and then we had second helpings the other way around, but that was hardly the point.

The point was that I was one with Matti and Matti was one with me. I did not know if our Masters would ever allow us to have relations like this again, but this night – this sweet, sweet night – was the best night of my life. Yes, I know I had been raped and beaten for hours beforehand. All that was gone, evaporated, wiped from the planet I lived on.

I had made love to Matti and Matti had made love to me. And he was going to be here and we were going to be together in the same household. At least until the next Little Big Man, hopefully beyond that, maybe for the next nineteen years or however long they let us live. But if Master kept me, and Ruslan liked Matti (how could he not?), we were going to be together, that was all that mattered.

FLASHFORWARD – DMITRI: TUESDAY, 13 AUGUST, ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA

Happily ever after? Not so fast. Oleg says the Scottish poet Robert Burns wrote that `the best-laid plans of mice and men gang aft a-glee'. I don't know what mice have to do with anything, and while I am gleeful about gangbangs in a slave's aft, I'm sure that's not what those last three words mean. English is hard enough – I have to understand Scottish?

Oleg says it means that no matter how well you plan, things don't always turn out the way you expect.

I guess Robert Burns was right about that.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO - SO HERE'S THE PLAN]

Next: Chapter 63

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