Slave to Love

This story deals with sex among males. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't. It's a fantasy, set in a time when sex was safe. It isn't now, so don't be a risk to yourself and others. Always play safe. The copyright for this story lies with the author.

A Special Hug and Thanks to my friend Tim Mead without whose help and encouragement I couldn't have done this. He's my muse, my proof-reader, and a very patient man.

Greetings to my other friends from the Nifty Six: Patrick, Evan, Ash, and Mickey.

I like to hear from readers, so don't be shy! --Tom

Onesillyrat@aol.com

SLAVE TO LOVE

RIKK:

I hadn't eaten in days. They didn't bother force-feeding me. Not yet. They didn't mind if I was a bit thin. But they made me drink some water every day. They didn't want to lose their nightly entertainment, or their means of revenge.

Well, I had been the one unlucky bastard who'd got caught when we came to steal their women away, one day in the fall, two years ago. We were just a bunch of younger sons from various regions, who had done what our ancestors had been doing for ages. Only this time, we obviously had chosen the wrong village to attack. In the stories that were told at the campsites, the women had followed our fathers only too willingly. Here it had been different.

The second we emerged from the woods, somebody had rung the friggin' alarm bell, and the men had come running back from the fields, much too soon. Yet we had managed to grab a gal each, and were on our way out, when I got hit over the head.

The first weeks I had spent chained over a barrel, not able to move. I slept on it, got fed on it, got fucked on it. For a while I thought, and hoped, I'd die, too, chained to that barrel. Only I didn't die. But I came pretty close. At least it felt that way. I tried to starve myself to death twice. They just waited till I was weak enough, and then stuffed food down my throat, like I was a goose.

Weeks later they freed me from that barrel and put me on a chain that they fastened around my right ankle. They warned me about resisting, though. One wrong move and I'd be back on the barrel, this time forever. I never resisted. When somebody entered the hut to fuck me, I got on hands and knees and offered him my ass. Or my mouth, whatever they wanted. I desperately wanted to die. It was the only thing I could think of.

I left the hut twice during all that time. To celebrate the anniversary of my capture. On those occasions I was raped by every man in the whole village. The second time was seven days ago. I could take a lot by then. Yet they'd managed to fuck me raw. The following days they let me recover. It took a while till I had full control over my sphincter again, though I always had tried to train that peculiar muscle. I used lots of that stinking salve they provided me with, but was still a bit tender back there. At least the pain was gone. This morning, they inserted that mean plug in my hole, preparing me for the night to come.

RAGEN:

The village was deserted. The peasants had fled, wisely. In the last two hours my men had gone through the small cottages and collected everything that might prove valuable or useful. It was a small heap, and mostly food. A few copper coins, some furs. One man, rather terrible to look at, clad in a threadbare, skimpy robe. He seemed to be of medium size, and rather thin, but other than that I could tell nothing about his looks. He was too dirty. Smelled something awful, too. Bolgar had found him chained to a pillar in a hut at the edge of the village. A prisoner, maybe? Who else could he be?

No time to deal with him now. Together with the other spoils he was bound to a horse, and we rode on. When we made camp in the evening, I ordered two of my men to clean him up and bring him into my tent. As they returned with him, they were grinning broadly.

"What's the matter, men? Has he told you a joke?"

One of them held a longish object into the air.

"We found that thing in his ass!"

It was a wooden dildo, crudely made, with a ridge that would make sure that it stayed where it was put. Looked quite uncomfortable. The prisoner showed no reaction, his gaze was directed down to the ground. He had dark hair, and his skin was very pale now that he was clean. Could be he had spent a long time in that hut. I put a finger under his chin, lifting his head. His eyes were blue, and there was no expression in them. Not really empty, no, more like guarded.

"On your knees," I ordered. He obeyed instantly, and knelt there, waiting, his head bowed.

"Suck my dick."

Without the slightest hesitation he opened my pants with nimble fingers and got my hardening cock out. He took it all. I wondered if he would be able to do that when it was fully erect. Well, I'd see. His mouth was warm, wet, and silky, his tongue smooth, working my pole diligently. He bobbed up and down on it expertly, without the least bit of teeth, and when it had reached his full length, he took it into his throat easily.

I grabbed his head, not too roughly, showing thus my appreciation, and began fucking his throat. His throat muscles really worked me. It didn't take long, and I came, my dick buried deep in his throat. Ah, lovely. Very well done indeed.

"I'll keep him for a while," I told the pair, who'd enjoyed watching that little scene. "Put him in chains, and then you can go."

I'd be back for more later. All that pillaging had made me hungry!

Munching on a lamb chop, I let that day pass again before my inner eye. All in all, it hadn't been that bad. None of my men had been hurt, and we could use those blankets and provisions. And I really looked forward to seeing more of my prisoner, to trying out his ass. He'd sucked my cock so well, had to have had lots of practice. I wondered how he'd react when I fucked him, if he would get hard, and decided then that it didn't matter. When I strolled back to my tent I even brought some meat and bread that I'd give him afterwards.

My men had chained him up good. Hands behind his back, feet together, ankles and wrists connected with a quite short chain. I unlocked them, and he stretched his limbs tentatively, groaning a bit. After a short while he got to his knees, and waited.

"Undress me," I said.

He wasn't very good at that, but he tried. Probably those villagers had kept him as a sex-slave only, always chained in that hut. His build would have been nice, if there had been a bit more meat on his body, and some more muscles. Well, he'd get them, working for me.

We were both naked now. I asked if he needed to piss or anything. He shook his head no. All that silence on his part unnerved me.

"Bilari's guts! Can't you speak?" I hollered at him.

He flinched and recoiled from me. I went after him. "What?!" I shouted. "Can you or can't you?"

Trembling all over, he took a deep breath.

"I can speak. I'm sorry, master. I wasn't allowed to, before."

His voice was rough, unsteady. I could tell this was difficult for him. He must have been punished for talking, and punished hard. The multitude of scars on his back left no doubt about that.

"Well, you're allowed to talk as it befits a slave," I told him magnanimously, throwing him a challenging glance.

"Yes, master," he replied, eyes again downcast.

"On your knees! Suck me!" I ordered.

He obeyed immediately, taking my already hard cock down his throat in one go. He WAS good at that! Then I ordered him on hands and knees, and prepped him fast but thoroughly, using some of the olive oil we'd acquired today. It was obvious that he had learned to relax his sphincter. There were some minor scars where he had been torn.

I knelt down behind him and aimed my tool at his hole. Slowly I pushed in, all the way. He offered no resistance, but he was tight enough, his inner walls soft and hot, massaging my cock. I fucked him leisurely, for a long time. He never made a sound. That annoyed me a bit, so at one point I gave him a punch to the kidneys, which elicited a short gasp from him. At the end I sped up and really slammed into him, and when I came it was explosive. I let my slave bear my weight for a while, till he started to tremble under me. Then I pulled out and stood up.

I cleaned myself up first. When he was done I gave him the food. Afterwards I allowed him into my blankets to keep me warm. I felt relaxed, comfortable.

RIKK:

He's sleeping. Should I kill him now? And then what? Steal a horse, run away? Where to? I'm so weak. Finally, finally I'm out of that terrible hut. So far this has been much better. He didn't hurt me. That one punch - laughable! After what I've been through he seemed nearly tender, considerate. He even prepped me, put oil in my hole. I guess I'll wait for now. Try to shape up. I'll have to see that he keeps me for himself. If he gives me to his men, I'm dead meat, so I'll have to prove useful to him. Somehow. If only I weren't so weak. So tired. I slept.

The next morning I changed my opinion of my master pretty fast. That asshole didn't let me ride, no -- I had to jog along behind him on a leash which was held by that big muscled animal that seemed to be his second in command. He was the one who'd gotten me out of that fucking hut. Bolgar, was his name. The ground was stony, and my bare feet hurt from the first step. And I became tired unbelievably fast. I'd been confined for so long, and the pace wasn't exactly slow either. After a while my feet were killing me. I expected to see raw meat when I looked down, but they looked much better than they felt. It took another eternity until Bolgar shouted at Ragen, "He's had enough! Look at his feet!"

Ragen turned around and scrutinized me derisively.

"Oh, already? Sooner than I thought. But then I guess he's spent his time more riding than running lately!"

How his men laughed at that! I had to grind my teeth to keep my face from showing the hate that ran through my body like a heat wave. But Ragen had already turned his gaze away. Bolgar hadn't. For a moment I was afraid that he'd seen through my facade. Then his icy stare changed into a lewd smile, and he winked at me suggestively. I swallowed. Took a step back, winced. Shit, my feet hurt! Grinning he gave my leash a little tug.

"Maybe you should get down on your knees for a bit, might be easier on your feet..."

He tugged again. I stumbled, but stayed upright. Helplessly I stared up at his bulky figure, then at Ragen for help. Only, that asshole was grinning, too. If they made me suck Bolgar now, it would be a question of a few hours till I would have to serve the rest of them, I thought. And I felt so weak. Way too weak to fight. Resigned, I sunk to my knees, waiting for it to begin. Bolgar directed his horse toward me, past me, to Ragen's side. I couldn't hear what they were saying. I assumed they were discussing who'd get what of me.

"We're taking a break, men. Eat something, and rest a bit!" Ragen shouted. Wow, they wanted to party. And I was going to be the main course. I couldn't help it, tears were streaming down my face, I managed barely to suppress my sobs. Yet I stayed on my knees. This would be hard enough without additional punishment.

Everybody got their blankets and provisions out. Ragen waved me over to sit with him. On my other side was Bolgar. Both offered me bits of their food. But I felt too apprehensive to eat. They exchanged glances. Then Ragen said:

"Relax, nothing will happen just now. Bolgar was merely jesting with you. Eat and rest!"

So I ate, drank some water, and got more tired the longer I sat there. After a while things were wrapped up. Bolgar reached for my hand and pulled me to my feet. I nearly screamed, they hurt more than before.

"I think he's done with walking," Bolgar said.

"He can ride with you," replied Ragen, "I'll take your stuff."

There it was again. Ragen was giving me away. And to that big brute! That one could break me in two easily. Unhappily I let him help me to sit behind him. I tried not to touch him, but that was impossible. Reluctantly I held onto him. We reached higher terrain fast. I'd gathered that we were heading for a mountain pass. As we got higher, the temperature dropped, and I huddled closer to Bolgar's warmth. After all, I was wearing only that long shirt, so my legs were freezing.

At one point he must have noticed my shivering, or maybe the chattering of my teeth was disturbing him. We made a short stop, and he asked one of the men who was about my size for trousers. Also he gave me socks and boots. When I attempted to mount the horse again, he made me sit in front of him, and wrapped me up in his cape. At that point I didn't mind. I was so frozen, tired, my feet hurt from walking, my ass from riding, that I let him hold me gladly. In the end, the rocking, even gait of the horse lulled me into sleep.

BOLGAR:

What a frail creature he is, Ragen's new slave boy. So delicate, so defeated. So quiet. He never said a word the whole time. And he obeys so willingly. Obviously tries to be good. Has to be dead afraid of what might happen otherwise. Who knows what those villagers did to him? He feels good in my arms. I wonder if Ragen would share him. Why not? He's done it before. We're friends.

RAGEN:

What a lovely picture, that big bear Bolgar holding the little cub! Looks right somehow. Not much of a man, my new slave. But so accommodating. Can't wait to slip into him again. Ah, tonight! I'll have him lick me all over, and then I'll fuck him. And I'll take my sweet time doing it.

We rode on, and it got colder still. There were about two hours of daylight left, and one hour to go to a sheltered place we had used two years ago. It's really only an overhanging rock, no more, but it will keep most of the wind and snow away.

We reached it in time, and I had the men set up the camp. The space was pretty much limited, our group had been smaller the last time. Bolgar rode up to me, the sleeping slave still in his arms.

"Ragen, there isn't room enough for all the tents. Should we split up?"

"I'd rather not. Let the men share, if possible, and you and I take your tent. Mine is just too big. There'll be room enough if we don't put it up."

Bolgar nodded his assent. Then he shook my slave awake. There was pure terror on the man's face when he saw who held him, but only for a second, then he schooled his features back to the expressionless mask they usually bore.

We had him help us to erect the tent, and then went for food, leaving him to arrange the bedding. That was when he realized that Bolgar would spend the night with us. And the terror in his face was back. It was obvious what he was afraid of. He thought I'd share him with Bolgar, and maybe even with my men, so that he was everybody's whore. Surely that was what had happened at the village.

When we returned with bowls of stew he had put the furs and blankets out, and was sitting on the naked floor, shivering. What a miserable creature, I thought by myself as I gave him his bowl. I detest weakness. But when I remembered how soft and pliable he had felt under me, I couldn't despise him. Nor could Bolgar. Just the opposite. I waited for him to make up his mind. It was after we had eaten, that he did. Good that he waited till then, or my nervous slave wouldn't have gotten his food down.

"Ragen," Bolgar said, "I'd like to have a go at this guy. Would you mind sharing him tonight?"

RIKK:

`No! No!' my mind screamed. But my body stayed quiet, except for the trembling. But that was from cold. Or was it? I wanted to search Ragen's face for his reaction to that question, but didn't dare to. He didn't keep us waiting for long.

"We'll see about that, my friend," was his enigmatic answer. He continued, "First take him outside, let him clean himself and the bowls. Show him where to get hot water for us."

So that animal dragged me out into the cold, ordered me to undress, and rubbed me down with snow. He even took a handful and worked my genitals and asscrack with it. I gritted my teeth to keep from yelling at that treatment. It fucking hurt, my cock shriveled up to nothing. Even worse, after that ordeal he led me naked as I was to the fire with all the men around it, to get the sodding hot water.

Back in the tent I felt slightly safer. Ragen had a small fire burning. Still I felt ice cold. Ragen held a beaker of warm spiced wine to my lips and made me drink it all. Immediately I felt warmer and slightly dizzy from the alcohol. Then they undressed, and I started washing them, as best I could. First Ragen. After all, he was my master. He wasn't much taller than me, but his shoulders were so much broader, and his arms and legs so muscled that I felt like a boy beside him. And his stomach, hard, rippling with muscles, no fat at all. His obvious strength made me shiver. And there were still areas I had to wash. His impressive cock, which by now pointed towards me, red, and angry. And his crack. I was unsure about that. Was I allowed to touch him there? Would he punish me if I did, or if I didn't?

Probably he'd punish me anyway if he felt like it. So I dragged up the remnants of my courage and made short work of his private parts. When I was done, Bolgar stepped in front of me, a huge grin in his face, his equally huge tool waving at me. If I'd thought Ragen big, this man was a giant. A Nordic god, with his long reddish blond hair, and pale skin with golden fuzz all over his chest and a trail down to his golden pubes. A bear of a man, but his skin was surprisingly soft.

When I was doing his back and they couldn't see my face, I closed my eyes for a moment and just enjoyed touching him. My heart was racing, my head spinning from the wine. It burned in my stomach. Of course, I hadn't had alcohol in two years. Bolgar felt vibrantly alive under my hands, and that combination of utter strength and baby-soft skin really got to me. Yes, he was beautiful. They both were. And dangerous. And I was completely at their mercy. So I wrapped up that little moment and hid it deep inside me. I proceeded to finish Bolgar just as matter-of-factly as I had done Ragen. For a second our eyes met. His green ones were piercing me. I could read desire in them that he didn't bother to hide. I guess we both knew in that moment that sooner rather than later he'd have me. I'd better resign myself to my fate.

Afterward Ragen had me build one big bed of all the furs and blankets. He lay down on it and pulled me with him. Bolgar followed. Instinctively I backed away from him, into Ragen's arms. Oh, how warm his body was, in relation to mine! That was good! I snuggled closer.

"I think your slave doesn't like me," Bolgar said.

"Be glad," Ragen replied, "he's an icicle right now."

"We must warm him up then," Bolgar murmured suggestively, and inched closer.

Soon I was framed between two warm, hard bodies. I was lying on my side, my back to Ragen, so that his erect cock pressed into my crack, while I watched Bolgar like the rabbit watches the snake. He was so close, I started to squint. A shudder ran through me. I closed my eyes. He moved, and his cock touched me. Of course he was hard. As if on command, both began to buck into me. By now I was feeling very warm. After a while Ragen stopped the bucking motions and oiled my hole.

"Tell me when you skewer him," Bolgar whispered, "I want to watch his eyes when you do it!"

"Ready . . . now!" Ragen whispered back.

"Open your eyes, slave! Look at me!" said Bolgar. "Look into my eyes!"

I did, and our gazes locked.

BOLGAR:

Damn, this is hot! These big, helpless, desperate eyes. He has no trouble taking Ragen, I can see that. It doesn't hurt him at all. Wonder if he could take me just as easily. Don't think Ragen will let me, though, not tonight. But this is good, too. Not letting go of the slave's eyes, I jack my rigid dick. Suddenly he gasps, and makes a funny sound, something between a squeal and a sob. Bet Ragen just hit his nut. And again. Ragen's obviously keeping his angle. I grin at him, and he grins back, twinkling at me.

`Make him come?' I mouth, and he nods.

So I let my own cock go. My body protests, but I really want to see the guy come, see him lose himself in pleasure, unwilling though he may be. With one hand I grab his dick, with the other I fondle his balls. Of course he's hard, and slick with precum. You usually are when someone bangs your nut. And he's trembling again. Does he think I'll hurt him? Well, maybe it has happened before. But I won't. He really looks as if he's been hurt enough. I want him to enjoy this. And I don't want him to be afraid of me. Why do I scare him so, anyway? Must be my size, what else? He should be thankful instead, for how I treated him today.

By now he's very hard, and constantly moaning. Ragen has sped up his thrusts. I check with him. Yeah, he's ready, only waiting for me to make the slave cum. I give a little more pressure, concentrating on the cockhead, while I massage with my thumb the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock. And then it happens. His body tenses up, he wails, caught between lust and anguish, and warm semen splatters the blankets and my hand. I see his blue eyes cloud over and then he closes them. A shout from Ragen, and he's cumming, too. They make a great picture lying there, panting, depleted. But now I really need to get off, too. I roll onto my back and beat my dick with fast, urgent motions. It doesn't take me long, and I follow their example. With a hoarse cry I explode, firing seven, eight shots of hot cum, which rains down all over my upper body.

As I open my eyes again, Ragen's slave is watching me, a myriad of expressions crossing his face. Sighing, I get up, soak some cloths in the rest of the now lukewarm water, and give them to each for cleaning up. The puppy actually retreats to the tent wall for a bit of privacy. Well, there is a difference between cleaning up your dick, or getting rid of cum somebody shot up your ass. He is a bit red-faced when he returns to lie between us. He moves hesitantly, too, unsure if he's allowed in bed after the fucking's done. The fire has died, and it's getting cold in here. I know my way around Ragen's things, so I get out warm clothes for him and the slave, and raid my own pack for my stuff. Then I lie down, put out the lantern, and we huddle close together under the furs. Mmh, this is nice, comfortable. Much better than sleeping alone.

"Thanks, friend," I whisper.

"You're welcome," Ragen replies, and I can hear he's smiling. The man between us trembles ever so softly, once in a while.

We go way back, Ragen and I, are friends, lovers in a loose kind of way. Never exclusive, yet always loyal. I'd die for him, and he for me. I wonder if I'll ever get him to fuck me again, now that he has this sweet plaything.

RAGEN:

Until last night, I was the only one who knew Bolgar's softer side. Now the slave does, too. At least he should know, if he's smart. I think he is smart. Only so very afraid and weak, it keeps him from thinking clearly at times. So Bolgar wants him, really wants him. I'm quite fond of my new slave, too. The sweetest ass I ever fucked, and just as hot as my old friend. Both of them together, a thrilling combination. When Bolgar takes him, I will watch. It'll have to be soon, as long as the boy still is afraid of him. He treats him so nicely, it's a matter of days. For today I let him ride with me. If Bolgar's disappointed, he doesn't show it. He keeps close to me, as alert as always.

"Slave," I say to the man behind me, "do you have a name?"

Silence. Then he clears his throat. "Yes," he whispers, "my name is Rikk."

He sounded close to crying. The way got more difficult. Sometimes we had to lead the horses. At noon we reached the top of the pass. The wind was cold and sharp, so we dragged on. We went without break and made camp early, two thirds down the mountain. I asked Bolgar if he wanted to join us for the night, and he nodded happily. I think I heard Rikk sigh. But he said nothing and went about his duties. He is a fast learner, and eager to please. This time there's no snow around and I allow him to use the warm water after us. Surprisingly Bolgar fetches the food himself, two large bowls of stew. He and I have dressed again, while Rikk kneels beside me naked.

"He's way too bony," I say to Bolgar, who in return looks at me questioningly. So I continue. "I shouldn't even offer you that scarecrow. But if you want, you can have his ass tonight."

"You know I want him," Bolgar replies. "And talking about `bony', why don't we feed him?"

He holds his full spoon at Rikk's mouth. My slave hesitates for all of a second, then he submits and opens his mouth. Must have realized that it might be better not to enrage Bolgar. Alternating, we feed him. As a special treat I bring on the bottle of honey and thyme liqueur we found at the monastery weeks ago, and we each take a healthy sip. Rikk coughs a bit.

Then we let him build one big bed while we shed our clothes, and I order him to lie in the middle of it. As soon as we're naked Bolgar and I join him, framing his scrawny body. He's cold and shivers a bit. Of course he feels the cold more. There's no fat on his body. And he's afraid, or at least apprehensive.

"Let's get him warm," I say to my friend. Bolgar nods. Together we rub Rikk's body down. When the shivering stops our rubbing becomes more gentle. We touch him everywhere, and he bears it and doesn't move at all. He's pliant under our hands, my submissive slave. I must say I enjoy this. Our life is rough, as is the climate so far north. We go on raids, fight. When we're at home the women have gotten accustomed to having their own way in our absence. Peace is rare. But with this slave, I've found peace. In his mouth, that opens so easily for my cock, in his accommodating, available ass. No fights, no discussions. He obeys. He's mine, at my mercy. I'm used to having power, but in this I revel. I think Bolgar does, too. Additionally, Rikk seems to have awakened his protective instinct. Bolgar's tender with him, so caring. I love to watch them together. When Bolgar takes him tonight, I might get off just from looking.

"Let's start the fun," I say, throwing Bolgar the small bottle with the oil.

"I'll put that aside for later," he answers, a fire gleaming in his eyes. Then, to Rikk:

"On your back, slave. Knees up and apart. Hold yourself open."

Rikk complies, with eyes closed. He's breathing fast. I can see it's difficult to hold that position, so I put a folded piece of fur under him. Bolgar gives me a sweet smile, and I smile back at him. In that moment I realize how much I love that man. Bolgar and I are more than casual sex partners. Does he know it? I search his face for an answer. He must see something in my eyes, because now he leans down to me, and I receive a warm, tender kiss. And I know.

Bolgar focuses back on Rikk. Settling down between his widely spread legs, he pulls his cheeks even further apart. Then he gives him a long lick all along his crack, over his pucker, up to his balls, making him gasp. And again. He sucks his balls in his mouth, alternating. He sucks on them with relish, bathing them in his spit, while my slave can't suppress his moans any longer. His cock isn't fully hard yet, but it's nearly so. Full and heavy, but not rigid, it lies on his belly, moving up and down in the fast rhythm of Rikk's breathing.

With one wet lick Bolgar leaves Rikk's marbles and moves a bit down, and without further ado he starts plunging his tongue down that inviting chute, hard and fast, eliciting the most interesting sounds from my slaveboy. In spite of himself Rikk pushes back at him, at first barely noticeably, but after a while he loses all his restraint and bucks wildly under Bolgar's ministrations.

Suddenly my friend stops. My slave looks up at him, eyes wild, his whole body bathed in sweat.

"Shall I fuck you now?" Bolgar asks him, sweetly.

To my surprise, Rikk nods.

"Say it!" Bolgar commands in a soft, tender voice. "I want to hear you say it, slave!"

"Fuck me," Rikk whispers, and there's need and desolation fighting on his face. I let go off his legs and put one arm under his neck instead, cradling his head. With the other hand I turn his face toward me, so I can kiss him. He opens up to me immediately. As our tongues touch I feel the vibrations of his moans.

By Bilari, this man has a sweet mouth! Welcoming. He responds to my kissing, his tongue never leaving his mouth. Out of nowhere a hand grabs my straining cock, holding it in a deathgrip. I look up. It's Rikk's hand. I can imagine he needs something to hold on to, because Bolgar's giant weapon's there, red, hard and angry, glistening with olive oil, waiting at his entrance. Just as I look, he starts to press in. Rikk's sphincter gives, and gives. I know how he must feel! That cock always takes me to my limit! Ever so slowly, but without pause, Bolgar enters that accommodating hole. When he's completely inside, both of them sigh. Just as slowly Bolgar pulls out again, leaving only the head of his weapon inside. Rikk hisses, moans, his body goes absolutely rigid for a few seconds. Our gazes meet. The tight hold my dick has been in changes into a milking motion. So good! I return the favor, and he gets rock-hard in no time. Now Bolgar begins a slow fuck. Slow, but relentless. All the way out, all the way in. Rikk moans, bucks, shudders under the assault but never stops jacking me. Sometimes his eyes are closed, sometimes he looks at me. Never at Bolgar. Why does he resent him, but not me? My friend notices it, too.

"Look at me, slave," he growls, slamming extra-hard into Rikk's chute. He has to do that several times, until finally my slave obeys. I'm jacking him faster now, too. So Bolgar's eyes burn into Rikk's, and he speeds up, and suddenly they both cry out and come. That picture's so incredibly erotic, it brings me over the edge, seconds after them. My cum splatters on Rikk's stomach, mixing with his own. Bolgar pulls out of him, and we take the slave between us and spread the cum all over him.

"Thanks for sharing," Bolgar whispers.

"He's sweet, isn't he?" I reply.

"Yes, very," my friend agrees.

"You want him?"

Rikk stiffens between us. Anxiously he implores me, "Please master, don't give me away. I beg you. Please. I'll be good, I promise! I'll always obey you!"

"I know you will," I assure him. "I'm not talking about giving you away. Bolgar, what I'm trying to say is, I liked what we did now, and last night. I wonder if we could come to an agreement, sort of."

Bolgar listens to me attentively. "Go on," he encourages me, while he absent-mindedly continues massaging the cum into Rikk's skin.

So I do. "I have the feeling you really like my slave." He nods. "I'm willing to share him with you, but..." I have to pause, this isn't easy for me. Having taken a deep breath I rush on. "Bolgar, I don't want to lose you over him."

Bolgar closes his eyes, and smiles slightly, shaking his head. My stomach churns.

"Ragen, if I had to choose between the two of you, I'd always take you over him. You're my friend, my brother, my lover. He's just a fucktoy, though a lovely one."

RIKK:

"...just a fucktoy..." I should have been desolate to hear it spoken that way, but the only feeling I could muster was that of immense relief. For a moment I had thought Ragen would do it, give me away to Bolgar. Alone his size had made me fear him, even if he never hurt me. Now, after that remark, I was doubly glad I belonged to the other man. Maybe to him I was a bit more than a mere commodity which would be discarded when it became boring. I wondered how long it might take for me to recover some strength and get in better shape. Weeks, probably. If they continued to treat me well. For now I was completely dependent on their good will.

Lying close to me, one on my right, one on my left side, the two powerful warriors fell asleep. I must admit, I didn't feel like "just a fucktoy" when Bolgar took me tonight. They were both so tender and caring with me. Like they -- cherished me? I must be imagining things. Wishful thinking, maybe? That's rich! I, wishing to be their lover? When hell freezes over! I wanted to be free and never see them again! Go home to my family, my friends! I wanted to decide who fucked me! Oh, Bilari's guts! Forget that. I was tired, not thinking clearly. The dried cum on my skin itched like a bitch. Still, I fell asleep fast.

I was awaken roughly. Somebody pulled me upright, screaming into my ear. Felt like Bolgar. It was dark, I couldn't see anything. But it was his voice, telling me to -- run? Suddenly there was a fire outside. I heard men yelling, the clashing of swords. Something soft and heavy was put in my hands. "Take the fur," Bolgar screamed, "and hide! We'll come and get you when it's safe. If we don't come, go home! Run, dammit!"

He gave me a push and I ran, the fur pressed to my body. There was fighting everywhere, but Ragen's tent was at the edge of the camp, so I was out of immediate danger fast. The flames in the camp were growing higher, I could see boulders in front of me, lots of them, an ocean of rocks. I scrambled over them, between them, as fast as I could, which wasn't too fast. I was still weak, and the fur lay like lead in my arms. Also, it was getting darker and darker the further I got away from the camp. When it felt as if another step would kill me, I collapsed where I was standing. Panting and wheezing like a woman in labour I spread Bolgar's fur out. There was something wrapped up in it -- the pants and the long shift. I put the things on, then I cuddled up inside the fur. My body was hot and sweaty from the exertion, and without the fur I'd sure have gotten at least a terrible chill. The sounds of fighting seemed to come from far away. There was no way for me to tell what was going on at the camp. What was I to do? Bolgar said they'd come for me, didn't he? I was relieved to know that. Then it dawned on me, that I was here, alone. Free at the moment. I could just go and run away! As soon as I'd have gotten my breath back, anyway. Yeah, and break my stupid neck in the dark. No, I'd have to stay put. For now anyway. The reasonable thing to do would be to get some more sleep. Yes, I'd try to sleep. Didn't think I could though. But I'd try. I cuddled up some more inside the fur. It was warm and cozy, and it smelled like Bolgar and Ragen, even a bit like me.

I awoke to a grey dawn. Milky fog lay all around me, and it was eerily silent. I was hungry, but not cold, thanks to the fur Bolgar had given me. What the hell had happened? Why hadn't they come yet to fetch me back? Maybe they were waiting for the fog to lift? What if they didn't come? What if they were dead, or taken prisoners? He said I shouldn't go back to the camp alone. In fact, he'd told me to go home.

Well, there was no choice anyway. Not with the fog. I huddled under the fur and slept a bit more. When I awoke the next time, the fog was gone and a pale sun lit the sky. I was terribly thirsty, so I let a bit of snow melt in my mouth. Not too much, I'd heard one could get stomach pains from that. The sun rose higher, and I was still in that place, waiting. I couldn't be that far from the camp, could I? My progress in the darkness must have been slow last night. Shouldn't they have come looking for me by now?

But nobody came. The sun reached its zenith. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to get back to the path anyway. I wasn't sure about directions, but remembered that I had run mostly uphill last night, so I opted for down now. I walked for some time, and hoped I was getting closer. But I couldn't hear a thing that would indicate human presence. There was only the screeching of birds. Pretty loud they were, too.

I looked up. Shit! Those birds were vultures! And they were gyrating above the place where our camp had been. Oh Gods! A dreadful sense of foreboding filled me, and I ran, stumbled toward the camp as fast as my feet would carry me. There was a lump of something between two boulders. I was already past it, when I recognized the thing. Ragen's backpack. I picked it up and threw it on my back. Then I hurried on.

I reached the camp. One glance was enough to tell me no one was alive there. The place was scattered with bodies, the sickly sweet, coppery tang of blood permeated the air. I went from corpse to corpse with growing apprehension getting more and more afraid of finding Ragen and Bolgar among the dead. There were so many corpses. Some with terrible wounds, some obviously had been slaughtered after their capture; their hands were still bound.

I didn't find them. They had to be alive, then. I fell to my knees and cried. For the dead, for Bolgar and Ragen, and for myself. Never in my life had I felt so lost. Around me, the vultures continued picking at dead eyes. It was sickening.

Finally I shook myself out of my stupor. What was I to do now? I had to get away. I needed a weapon, food, water. Clothes! Damn. I absolutely needed something for my feet, they were hurting bad. Gingerly I began searching the bodies for useful stuff. I found several pieces of warm clothing, but neither food nor money or weapons. There was one corpse I'd been reluctant to touch. It just smelled and looked too awful. He lay half under a collapsed tent, had a terrible gut wound, and his innards were spilled all over the ground. I searched him, the bile rising in my throat. And I found a dagger! As I fumbled to unfasten the belt with the scabbard, the corpse moaned!

In terror I jumped back at least two feet. How could the man be alive with that dreadful wound? Then he even started to move! An arm came up toward me! An arm with black skin! Oh kindly powers, what had I done? Was that man turning into a demon before my eyes? Was this his revenge for disturbing his rest? I retreated from the body, shivering with fear. The body moved some more, and more black became visible. And I realized that it was not the corpse, after all, that was turning black! It was someone, or something, that had been lying hidden under the tent and the dead body. Now it stood up. It had to be a demon, it was as dark as the night. Its clothes were torn to rags, with blood and slime all over them, and Gods, it stank! And it came closer, and it reached for me! I stumbled backwards, away from it. And landed flat on my ass, as my foot caught on a rock. Ouch, dammit!

The demon's eyes got big and round. Then it started giggling maniacally,' till it was whooping with laughter. Its laugh was that of a boy, and now that I really looked at it, its body was that of a boy's too. Only he was black, and the dark cloud around his head was curlier than any hair I'd ever seen. His giggling was so infectious, I just had to join him. Once I started I couldn't seem to stop. I hadn't laughed like that in a long long time, and I hooted and whooped till I felt quite weak. It took a tremendous effort to stop it. For the boy, too. `Cause he had to be a boy. I'd never heard of giggling demons. Whatever he was, he was human, and he was a child.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"My name is Malik," the boy said. He gave me a close look, and continued, "I was the property of this stinking bastard for the last three years. I tried to escape during the attack yesterday. When he" - he pointed at the corpse - " was hit he fell on me and crushed me. I think I hit my head, too. Hurts a bit. Who're you?"

"I'm Rikk. I was a prisoner of the group that was attacked. Do you know what happened with the survivors?"

"They'll have taken them. Probably they'll sell them as slaves. It's what they do. Why do you want to know? They're gone, and you're free now. That's what counts."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Sure I am. Only problem is, we still gotta get down this friggin' mountain. Let's make use of the daylight, and hurry up and get away from this cursed place."

I could only agree. All these bodies, the smell of death, the vultures, it really gave me the creeps.

"Okay. I've already gathered clothing for myself. You should get cleaned up and do the same, Malik. In the meantime I'll pack a tent and blankets for us."

The boy nodded and started pulling those awful rags from his body. I looked away quickly and got busy. Since it had been at the edge of the battle ground, Bolgar's tent had survived the battle unscathed. I decided to pack everything that might prove useful from Ragen's and Bolgar's things into Bolgar's backpack. Under the blankets I found a little bottle. I felt a tightening deep in my stomach. It was the bottle with the olive oil. The oil that Ragen had used to prepare me that first day. The oil Bolgar had used to lube his cock with last night. I clenched my fingers around it. There, on my knees between the blankets, I stared at that little bottle as if it contained all the secrets of my soul. And I started to cry.

Suddenly Malik was at my side. "Rikk, what's the matter with you?"

Yeah, what was the matter with me? Was I indeed crying for those two men who had enslaved me? Who had hurt me? Used me? Fucked me? Yes, and who had been tender and caring and loving at the same time? Who had made me feel so sheltered in their arms... Bolgar's voice came back to me, `I'd always take you over him. You're my friend, my brother, my lover. He's just a fucktoy...'

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. "Malik, these two men that owned me..." I hesitated.

"What's with them? Shit, are you crying because of them? You miss them, or what? You want them back? Shit, you're a slave at heart!"

"No, I'm not! But they treated me well!"

"Well, and? My master spoiled me rotten! Still I'm glad the bastard's dead! I want to be free!"

"You think I don`t? But I want to be with them, too." At this point I was sobbing harder than before.

"Oh, shit, man. I don't get it, really! You know what? Let's get going, and you can tell me about those guys on the way, okay?"

Together we fixed two packs, a smaller one, containing Bolgar's tent, for Malik to carry, a bigger one (with Ragen's tent) for me. Then we set off. As we trod down the stony path, I told Malik what had happened to me. Of course I didn't tell him all the details, he was just a kid after all. When I described how Ragen had leashed me to his horse, Malik giggled. When I described how they had rubbed me down with snow, he laughed right out. "Hey, I bet they warmed you up afterwards! Am I right?"

I nodded. Color rose into my cheeks as I remembered just how they had warmed me up.

"You're blushing!" Malik crowed. "That's so cute! You've got the hots for these guys!"

"I don't! What do you know of these things anyway!"

"More than you, obviously," he muttered under his breath.

I chose not to comment on that. What would he know? He was just a kid! But what a kid! I just couldn't help looking at him time and again. For several reasons. Of course, there was the color of his skin. He had explained that to me. In his country everybody was dark. I had asked if it was very hot there, and he'd said, yes, it was. Maybe that explained it. Then there was the thing with his age. When I asked he'd said he was 15, which I couldn't believe. He looked like 12, at most. Again he'd explained that his people were shorter. Now, the last reason I couldn't keep my eyes from him, was that he was so cute! The cutest kid I'd ever seen. Even in these oversized clothes he'd found for himself. His eyes were black as coal, his lips full and red, his hair like the fur of a black lamb, soft, and curly looking, as if it was made to be tousled and carded.

I was shocked to my core when I realized that my feelings toward this child weren't fatherly, or brotherly. Not completely, anyway. Sure, I felt protective over him, but that was not all I felt. I didn't want to dwell on that. Hopefully, if I ignored it, it would go away.

During the afternoon the sky had changed from blue to grey. Wind had come up and brought clouds with it. Thankfully we were farther down now and it wasn't quite as cold as it had been. The sky was getting darker by the minute, ominously so. We decided to look for a suitable place to put our tent up. The best we found was a group of crippled firs that grew in the shelter of a big boulder. The power of the wind increased, and made our task rather difficult. By the time the tent was erected, rain had already set in. Just as we scrambled into our tent, the floodgates of the sky really opened and torrents of rain began to fall.

We had been lucky, but our clothes had still gotten very wet in the process. Our teeth were chattering audibly. It was so cold!

"We can't keep our clothes on," Malik stated. "I know what to do. We need to huddle under the blankets and whatever you got there, and put the clothes at our feet. So they'll dry during the night." He shuddered, adding, "So, let's build a nest, and get me warm! I want something to eat, too! We've got food, I hope?"

What a spoiled brat! Sadly, he was right. I spread out the fur and every blanket we had. We undressed, and while I made an effort not to look at him, I really felt his eyes on me, checking me out. He wouldn't be able to see much, as it had gotten quite dark already, but it still made me nervous. When I finally huddled into the nest, I was ice cold. Malik was, too, like I couldn't fail to notice when he pressed his frozen body into mine.

"Get me warm!" he whined. So I put my arms around him, gathered him closer to me, and rubbed his back with my hands. We were both trembling with the cold, and our teeth were chattering. It took us forever to get warm, and I couldn't help thinking how good it would have been with Ragen and Bolgar here at our sides, who were both like furnaces.

"I'm hungry," Malik's voice interrupted my wayward musings. "What have we got?"

"Not much. I didn't find anything in the camp. We've got only what was in Bolgar's backpack ."

"Who's that?"

"One of the men whose prisoner I was. When the attack began last night, he threw me the fur and told me to run. And I think he hid his backpack among the rocks, too, so I might find it."

"Really? Why should he do that for a prisoner?"

"He wanted me to be safe, I think. He knows I'm no fighter, and in poor shape. He said he was going to come for me when it was over. But he never did. Well, I was his and Ragen's property. They just didn't want me to be damaged, is all."

"Still, it was a nice thing to do. Now check that pack, will you!"

"I'm checking! There's what feels like old bread, two, no, three apples, what's this, could be cheese. That's all. Oh, a flask with water, too."

"Not what I'm accustomed to! It'll have to do, I guess."

We ate an apple each and some of the bread. I gave Malik the flask and he drank deeply. He passed it back to me, giggling a bit. I drank, too. Only, it was no water, it was wine. Strong one, too. I coughed. Well, hopefully it'd warm us up. During our meal our arms and hands had gotten very cold again, so we hurried to get back under the blankets when we were done. The boy fell asleep quickly. I lay there, couldn't sleep at all. I felt miserable and lost, and all I could think of was how good it had been sleeping with Ragen and Bolgar, and that I wanted them back, and then I hated myself for wanting them.

What a fool I was. What a weakling. A fucktoy. I hadn't always been like this. I knew I used to be like other men my age, cocky, confident. I would never be like that again. Not after what had been done to me. But surely I could be more than this. I wanted to be more. More than just their fucktoy. A daring thought entered my mind. What if I found them, and managed to free them? Things would have to be different then. Maybe. And even if not, at least I would have them back! But could I really do that? What if I got caught? I broke out in a cold sweat at that thought. No, I couldn't risk that. Absolutely not. But the idea wouldn't let me rest.

I must have fallen asleep at one point, `cause I was dreaming. I was lying in Bolgar's arms and Ragen was sucking me. And it was so good. He'd taken me deep, my whole cock was enveloped in moist, soft heat. He hummed around me and I wanted to grab him by the ears and fuck his face. But I couldn't move one bit. Bolgar held me in his strong arms, kept me in place. I could feel how powerful he was. I loved being held like that. It made me feel so safe.

Now Ragen was swallowing around me. I wanted to scream but somehow couldn't. He pulled off again, there was his breath caressing my wet cock, and then he took me in again, swallowed me down again, and my balls tightened so fast it hurt, and then I came and came down his throat screaming myself hoarse in the process.

I was still screaming when I woke up. And there was still something wet and hot engulfing my cock head and gulping down my cum. Who the hell???

Oh, Gods! Oh, no! Please, anyone tell me this hasn't happened! In the dim light of the dawning day I saw a small figure moving under the blankets. Oh, no! I'd let a child suck me! I felt like I was going to be sick. "Malik!" I groaned.

A broadly grinning dark face came up from under the blankets. Black eyes gleaming with smugness. A very red tongue licking pearly cum from pearly teeth and very red, swollen lips. "MALIK!" This time I yelled.

"What's up, Rikk? Didn't you like your wake-up call?"

"Wake-up call?" I spluttered.

"Why, yes! My master loved it! I woke him every morning like this! He said I was the best cocksucker he ever had. Of course I've had years of practice."

I was shocked, to say the least.

"Oh, you poor child. I'm so sorry! That must have been terrible for you! But these times are over now. You don't need to do these things any more."

Malik looked disturbed. "I don't understand - didn't you like it? You came! Wasn't I good?"

I hurried to reassure him. "You were very good. But that's not the point. Children shouldn't do these things. It's not right! It was wrong of your master to use you like that."

"But - but...I like it! I like sucking, and fucking, too!"

I thought I was going to faint. "Did you say 'fucking'?"

Malik nodded.

"I don't believe it! That monster fucked a child?"

"I'm not a child! I'm 15! And yes, he did! But I didn't escape because of that! I just wanted to be free! Now I am free. I'm going to do what I want. If I want to suck cock, I will. If I want to fuck, I will!"

"But not with me!" I yelled right back, getting now pissed myself. To think that I'd felt sorry for the brat!

Meanwhile he'd gotten up from under the blankets. He stood there naked, proud, fists on hips, glowering at me.

"As if you're the one to talk!" he sneered. "I heard you moaning their names when I was doing you! 'Oooh, Volga! Aah, Ragen!'"

"It's Bolgar, not Volga, you brat! The Volga is a river in Seria! And it's not the same! I'm a grown-up, I know what I do. You obviously don't. You need someone to take care of you, someone to prevent you from getting in trouble!"

"And you think you're the one to do that? Well, I've news for you, Rikky: You're not my master! I won't let you order me around! It's going to be just the other way: If you don't do what I say, I won't tell you where the slavers are bound, and you'll never see those guys again you're pining for! How's that?"

I had heard only one thing. "You know where they're going?"

He smirked triumphantly. "Yes, I know. And I can lead you there. But only if you do what I say, from now on. Do we have a deal?"

I didn't need to think about it. I nodded my head yes.

"I've got you by the balls!" he cried out triumphantly. He strutted the two steps toward me. "Give me proof, slaveboy. Suck my dick!"

What was I to do? I told myself that me sucking him wasn't as bad as having him suck me, and went on my knees in front of him. His cock was small, slender, and very hard already. I had no trouble taking him in one go. He began to leak precum immediately, and it was sweeter than any I'd ever had. I still was angry and agitated, so I attacked him with a vengeance. But it wasn't enough for him, 'cause he took hold of my head and started to fuck my mouth hard and fast. Even if he was small, he had me gasping and spluttering around him. In no time he came in my mouth, four, five jets of the sweetest cum, and he yelled out loud in his high, boyish voice.

"Lick me clean," he ordered, "my balls, too." I did. "Enough." At last he was satisfied. Strangely enough, I was hard again.

He laughed out loud when he saw it. "You're forbidden to jack off, slaveboy. I want you hot and horny for tonight." And my cock twitched. I hated it.

For breakfast we shared the last apple, the rest of the cheese, and some bread. We each had a few sips of the wine, too. Then we checked our clothes. They had nearly dried over night and were only a little bit clammy when we put them on. Then we packed everything and got on our way. The clouds were gone now and the sky was a clear blue. It was warmer than it had been in days.

On our way downward we came across a little stream where we drank as much as we could. Also we filled Bolgar's flask up. Malik muttered something about diluting the wine, but he didn't stop me. He hadn't given me any orders at all since he'd made me blow him in the morning.

When the sun was at its peak we made a short stop and ate the last of the stale bread, washed it down with the diluted wine. We marched on. We were halfway down the mountain now, and in woody regions. While walking we picked berries and mushrooms I knew were edible. In the late afternoon we were rounding a bend on the winding path, when suddenly Malik grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I landed on my ass with a dull thud.

"What's up, dammit?" I asked, annoyed.

"Not you, obviously! Didn't you see it? They're in front of us, just two slopes down the path!"

I scrambled to my feet and approached the corner slowly. Then I craned my neck to look around it. Malik was right. I could see a group of maybe thirty men, all on horses, and between them about twenty men walking in chains. I even thought I could recognize Bolgar, towering above the other men with his blond head. My heart beat painfully in my chest. I just wanted to run down to him and throw myself into his arms, or at his feet, whatever...

"What now?" I asked Malik.

"We need to be careful, keep our distance. Follow them till it becomes dark and they make camp. Usually they put up a guard or two. If it's only one, we maybe can take him out?"

"Yes, hopefully!" I said. My doubts must have been obvious from the tone of my voice.

"Well, or we can sneak up to the prisoners..."

"And do what? They're in chains, dammit! Even if we were strong enough to break those, we'd wake everyone up doing it!"

"We won't have to break them - look what I've got here!" With a very smug grin Malik reached into his oversized pants and produced a small metallic object. A key!

"Is it...."

"Yep! The key to their chains. I took it from my master before we left yesterday. I thought I'd need it if they caught me again."

I couldn't help myself, I just had to hug him. "Oh, dear boy, that's wonderful!" I exclaimed.

"Shh! Not so loud, idiot!"

"Oh, sorry! But with this key we may be really able to free them!"

"Not if they hear your shouting and catch us! We need to be very careful! And, you should ask yourself if you really want those men free. Remember, they took you prisoner, held you as a slave! What tells you they won't do it again?"

"You don't know the whole story, Malik. They freed me of a situation that was a lot worse, and they treated me fairly well, all in all. It were only a few days I was with them, but...," I hesitated.

"But what?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, and I'm fooling myself. But, uh...it wasn't only that I belonged to them. It rather felt like I belonged with them. You'll call me an idiot, again, and probably you're right. But I'm willing to take that chance. I want them back!" I took a deep breath.

"Very well," Malik said, smiling up at me knowingly, "I'll help you. We'll free your men."

So, we followed the slaver-traders for the rest of the afternoon. Their pace was quite slow, so I was able to keep up. We made sure we didn't come any closer to them and checked carefully before each turn of the path. The sky had become cloudy again and the air smelled like rain. As the first drops started falling, they set up camp. Malik and I huddled under the plane of Bolgar's tent, wrapped up in his fur.

"The rain will help us," Malik remarked. "They'll go to sleep early, and the guards won't be able to see or hear us that easily."

While we waited for the camp to settle down we shared the last bread and drank the rest of the watered wine. And we waited. When the fires in the camp were burning low, and we couldn't see anybody moving there, we figured it was time to go. We decided to leave the tent and our things behind and took only one backpack with us.

The rain had gotten worse, but I didn't mind at all. It wasn't as cold as the night before, and Malik was right, the rain was our ally. We reached the camp without any incidents. Slowly we surrounded it. There wasn't even a guard. Probably they felt secure enough, thinking that nobody had escaped the attack in the mountains. They had chained their prisoners together in the middle of the camp.

"Give me the key," I whispered toward Malik.

"No, let's go together!" he replied.

There was no time to discuss this. Side by side we crawled on our stomachs around the tents toward the prisoners.

All stayed silent, well, safe for the splashing the rain. Of course we'd been drenched long since. We were only two or three yards away from the group of prisoners, and I was wondering how to make them aware of our presence, when I heard a whisper. "Who's there?"

Without thinking I replied, "It's me, Rikk."

"You idiot!" I heard next. "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to run?"

"Bolgar? Is that you?"

"No, it's Bilari's hairy grandma. Of course it's me. Again, what are you doing here?"

"We're going to free you. We've got a key. Tell everybody to be quiet!"

I crawled closer to him, fumbled for his chains and finally found the keyhole. I inserted the key without problems, but when I began to turn it, the sonofabitch began to creak. Immediately I stopped. Damn. We needed fat, or oil! Suddenly I remembered something - the little bottle of oil I'd found in Bolgar's things. I had put it in his, now my, backpack.

"Malik," I whispered, "there's a little bottle in my pack. Can you get it?"

"Sure," he replied, searched my pack deftly, and in no time I held the oil in my hands. I applied some to the key and tried again. It opened without any noise and Bolgar's hands were free. "I'll take care of the rest," he said," you sneak back and hide behind the trees. I'll let you know when it's safe to come out."

We did as he had said, and soon Malik and I were crouching under a group of bushes that provided a bit of shelter from the rain. Though it wouldn't have been possible for us to get any wetter than we already were. There we waited for the things to come.

BOLGAR:

I swear on Luki's two tails, I heard them coming before they even reached the clearing. Two mooncalves stomping through the woods like a couple of bloody olifants, and it was only due to the heavy rain and the slave traders' sottishness that they weren't noticed. I wondered who they were. No one of our group would make such a racket, and anyway, I was pretty sure there had been no survivors. Well, save for Rikk probably. But it couldn't be him. Why would he want to free us? And even if he wanted, he was too chicken-hearted to even attempt such a thing. At least that's what I thought.

I was very surprised when our rescuer turned out to be timid Rikk indeed, and still more surprised when he even had a key for our chains! While he and the other one crawled back our group of twenty-two got rid of our chains. Then, tent for tent, we knocked our enemies out. In the end we bound them with their own chains. We'd check them out in the morning, see if there were any we wanted to keep, and then leave the rest of them chained in the woods. Then we'd give the key to the chief of a village that was far enough away, so they wouldn't come after us. They would be facing a few uncomfortable days, but they would live.

So, when all was under control, and the campfires burning bright, Ragen and I went for Rikk and his companion. At the edge of the clearing we called his name. There was a rustle in the undergrowth, and then two wet figures came stumbling toward us. For a moment Ragen and I were speechless with what we saw. Then Ragen yelled; "I don't believe this! Our fearsome slaveboy and a friggin' child!" He took the two steps toward Rikk, hugged him fiercely, and kissed both his cheeks, loudly.

"Oomph!" said Rikk when he was let down and could breath again. Then it was my turn. I opened my arms. "Come here, boy," I said, and Rikk came willingly, even eagerly into my arms. I think it was the first time he came to me without fear or apprehension. And Gods, did it ever feel good to hold him again! I didn't want to let go of him... In the end, Ragen joined us and hugged both Rikk and me. And there we were, the three of us together again, and it felt so right I knew we were meant to be like this.

"And what about me?" a clear voice asked, demandingly.

"Yes, Rikk, who is he?" I asked.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know," Rikk replied, "but let's get dry first, yes?"

We got dry, and warm, and learned what Rikk had to tell about Malik. When he told us how the boy had forced him to give him a blowjob, we howled with laughter.

"Only you, Rikk, would have been blackmailed by a mere kid!" Ragen exclaimed.

"A mere kid? Ha!" countered Rikk, giving us a meaningful look. "You're in for a few surprises," he added, ominously.

It turned out he was right, as Ragen and I began to realize the very same night. But that, my friends, is another story, for another day.