10 comments/  69310 views/  68 favorites

The Slave Boy 01

By: Cruel2BKind



*Don't worry!

I've had some problems with taking a long time to complete series, but this is one story where you don't have to worry. The entire story is completed as of now, but I am releasing it in two chapters for sake of length. I'll release the next chapter next week.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my new 'series' The Slave Boy.

All Characters are 18+*



It was very dark in the slaves quarters. It was always dark. Most rooms in the Keep tried to have high vaulted windows for natural light, but the slaves weren't worth the windows, so our sleeping place was a long low-ceilinged hall under the grand hall. It was only five feet from the rough cobbled floor to the thick creaking ceiling, and the thick pillars that kept the floor above our heads never seemed like quite enough.

Cave-ins had happened in the past, so every night we slept in the fear that we wouldn't wake up, or that we would wake up screaming with a jut of splintered wood in our stomach, like that poor old woman not two moons ago.

We didn't have separate rooms, only the main family, and honored guests got private rooms. Lesser guests, like visiting peasants and infantry slept on the thick straw in the main hall. We slept in the thick straw under them.

I could tell it was morning by the foggy clang of the slaves bell. It rung at the very crack of dawn all year round, so in winter we got to sleep in a little. However, in winter there were more feasts and celebrations because there was no open war in the winter and the only way to pass time was to get drunk and sing and impregnate the slave girls with bastards.

I was a slave, so this is a list of all of my possessions. Two linen shirts, white. One thick cloth vest, brown. One light pair of summer trousers, brown. One heavy pair of winter trousers, brown. One winter cloak, black. One pair of felt boots, black. One pair of light slippers, brown. Three pairs of thick woolen socks, white. Three loincloths, white.

Those were all of my possessions. My food was given, or withheld, every day. I could not carry weapons, and even in the kitchens, I was allowed one knife during the day to chop vegetables and meat. Every night, when all of our masters and those we served finally fell asleep; we were thoroughly checked by the cook, who doubled as the slave-master.

I had been captured when I was fourteen, and I was one of the lucky ones. Yes I worked longer, yes I got less food, and yes I got very little sleep, but I worked in the kitchens. It was hard work, but I worked in a place where only theft or laziness could get me whipped, and I was a boy.

Slave girls were free property to any freedman who wished to have a roll in the hay. Many of the slave girls were so cowed by now that they were afraid to go to the market. I knew a girl of sixteen that had already borne three bastards. The slave-master had to use girls as house and kitchen slaves. They were heavily desired by the crowds at feasts, and they generally worked better in the kitchens, but they did need a few males as well, they could go outside without the near-certainty of being raped by a passing soldier.

I was lucky because when I was fourteen, I was cramped and weak and filthy from over a month jammed in the hold of a viking ship. The crops-master proclaimed me too weak to work in the fields. I may have gone to a quarry or a mine, an even worse fate, but one of my slavers, the man who had captured me when I was cowering under a bed in the loft above my father's shop, recalled that I was a baker's son. I still remembered him, a tall fierce man with reddish hair and pale eyes.

I was sold to the kitchens of a rich general named Boris Strong-hammer, and I had worked there for four years now. I supposed I would work here for the rest of my life, maybe even live to the ripe age of fifty. Slaves could grow old in the kitchens, as long as they worked hard enough.

I put on a fresh loincloth, my heavy trousers, socks, felt boots, linen shirt, padded vest and warm winter cloak. I put my slippers in my pocket, those are what we wore inside. Me and a scrawny man named Colin were the only men in the slow trudge of house slaves. We crawled out of the tiny hatch that had been unlocked by the slave-master, and he counted us out and tallied our names as we came out. 

Today we were all awake, but woe to any girl that had slept past the slave bell and not been awakened by her fellows. That had happened to me just once, and the slave-master had stripped me naked on that freezing cold morning, tied me to a post and poured buckets of water over my head till I was half-drowned and my skin turning a dull purplish-blue from the cold. He had whipped the warmth back into me, and then told me if I liked to sleep so much, that he would give me a reason to stay in the quarters.

It hadn't happened again.

The house-girls trudged over to the great hall above the hatch we had just crawled out of. They would clean the mess up as quickly as they could in order to dodge the letch of an early-rising drunkard.

Four house-girls and eight kitchen-slaves, including myself and Colin. It was hard work keeping up for not only the family and guests, but for all of the field slaves, who spent their winter rebuilding and fortifying the keep walls, and tending to the animals.

We worked for an hour, making porridge with honey for the guests and family, and porridge without honey for the slaves. In the brief time when no dishes needed to be scrubbed and no food needed to be made, we all ate a small bowl of porridge and a shriveled apple.

In no time, we were working again.

---

It was in the noontime lag when we saw them.

The sun had come out, so despite the cold we were eating our afternoon meal of pottage (thick soup of vegetables, grains, onions, and a few scraps of pork) outside to enjoy the brief sunlight. The courtyard was white with packed snow, except in places where hooves and feet had churned it to frozen mud. The wooden keep door opened, the watchman was blowing an excited call on his horn, when they came in.

We got up and huddled against the wooden kitchen (kitchens needed to be built far away from large homes, even stone homes because of the wooden supports) and watched them come in, over fifty men on horses, with a small herd of remounts following them. The horses were laden with clanking bags of metal armor, for the men were only wearing the leather pads worn under the armor, and each man had the livery of their home on it. It was fifty land-owners, back from some crusade or war, here for food and wine and girls.

I watched long enough to see Boris Strong-hammer come out and clap one of the men on the shoulder, but then I fled back into the kitchen, eating my pottage as fast as I could. Fifty men meant we would have to work until the break of dawn.

---

Colin and I were the slaughterers. Boris wanted to make this into a feast, so Colin, me and several of the field slaves were ordered to slaughter and butcher two fat hogs, a fat calf, three goats and a dozen fat geese.

We were all exhausted after nearly two hours of slitting, boiling, skinning, butchering, and plucking, but the work had barely began. All of the animals were too big to be slow-cooked with this little time, so they would have to be roasted. The twelve field slaves were digging pits and chopping wood, while the kitchen slaves were spicing and preparing the animals, shoving sharpened poles all the way through them and cutting slits in the meat to rub spices and oils. The organs of the animals were cut out and cooked as sweetbreads.

We always felt overworked, but even with the help of the field slaves we were dying. We were working so hard that we were all allowed a chunk of bread spread with soft cheese and a slice of onion. I wept with gratitude. It hadn't been ordinary hunger of the belly, we felt that every day. It had been the deep, all-consuming hunger of the flesh, where I could feel myself growing stronger with every bite of the soft nutty bread and soft flavorful cheese and pungent onion.

We still had to cook fresh bread and roll barrels of wine and mead out of the cellar. We had to grill fish and greens on a flat scrap of tin. Had to make beef stew with wine in it and rich-man's-pottage, a mixture of herbs and grains and pork so tender it melted into the stew.

My eyes were blurred and my hands were raw with work. It was finally time to serve. The men were to carry in the whole bodies of the hogs and the goats and the calf, served on giant wood platters and garnished with greens and stuffed with herbs and gleaming with juices and gravy. My hunger was so great that I had to swallow over and over to stop myself from drooling. My knees trembled with weakness and I nearly dropped the platter of goat that I and another young man were bringing in. When we set it down, he asked me if I was alright. His eyes were so beautiful. I looked down and mumbled that I was okay before hurrying back to the kitchen to help.

The men sat at two long wooden tables, and those poorer, or with less status sat on stools or the floor. They tore into the meat like animals and ate it with their fingers and teeth. They were like wolves, pushing us out of the way and lunging at the slave girls trying to pour their wine.

Ten girls were too little for nearly a hundred men. Some of the local nobles had brought their girls, and that brought it up to maybe thirty, but it still wasn't enough. They fucked them in plain sight, in corners, covered by cloaks, or even just on the tables. Freewomen were there too, and they satisfied their men, and some men they weren't with, but there was no one to serve the food but me and Colin and a few of the field slaves.

We had to duck and dodge to avoid flying food and utensils, I saw Colin get hit by a metal plate and he fell unconscious. Two field slaves dragged him out before one of the barbarians started to piss on him, or kick him, or something equally cruel and degrading. One of the Freewomen had gotten up and was doing a lewd dance to the music of a trio of men with a drum, a brass horn, and a fiddle. I thanked God for her presence, she distracted the men and allowed me to serve platters of stew and fish and refill the wine jugs without being disturbed.

I was rushing out of the room to grab a big pot of stew to replace a spilled one, when a man grabbed my forearm. I froze and turned to him attentively, hoping he wouldn't kick me, or tell me to lick wine off his boots. Both had happened before, many times.

I looked right into the eyes of Haagan the Fierce. I knew this man and that froze me even more. He was the man who had captured me, and proclaimed me too weak to work in the mines or quarries or fields. 

I still remembered what I had seen him do. All of the captured slaves had been in a barn, and I had seen him fuck a boy. The boy was older then me, a scared farmer boy with big muscles and a simple frightened face. Haagan had turned the boy on his stomach and taken his penis and shoved it first in the boys mouth, and then the boy's ass. The boy had whimpered piteously with pain and humiliation.

I remembered this feverishly, I had been sick and weak and I had seen it through pounding and throbbing eyes. All I remembered was Haagan's name, and his red hair. His hair was a thick rich dark red, and his beard was trimmed short, most of the men left their hair and beard long, but he kept both short. I remembered why. He was a legendary fighter, and he got right in, fierce and close, he kept his hair shorter so no one could grab him and pull him in.

I wondered if he remembered me.

I stood there in front of him, and then in a moment of panic I realized that I hadn't heard what he said. His eyes were the color of ice, coldly amused.

"Forgive me sir." I babbled hoarsely, casting my gaze to the floor. "Forgive me, I...I did not hear you." I looked at his big leather boots with the lines of metal buckles up one side, cringing and waiting for a blow.

His voice was deep and rolling and amused. "This wine is watered to make it last longer, I want you to bring me some of your master's French cognac, I know the greedy bastard keeps a few bottles hidden away." He saw the naked fear on my face, and he pulled a small bronze token from his fingerless leather gloves. "Bring this to the cook, and you will be vouched for."

I relaxed a little, bowed deeply and fled to the kitchen.

---

The little bronze token had an imprint of a sparrow-hawk on both sides. When I showed the token to the cook, the big man froze and then sighed.

"I guess I'm going to be rid of a good slave for the rest of the night." He saw the confusion and fear on my face. "If Haagan has given you his token, that means he likes you. He's going to force you off into some corner and fuck you until dawn breaks. I hope the other men will be done with my girls soon!"

He crossly got me a glass bottle from the cellar. The cook had never given me a word in my life, unless in command or complaint or punishment, but now he was giving me advice. "Haagan has never used a boy from this Keep before, but I've heard that he's a thousand times better to his boys then most of the rest of these pigs treat my girls. Listen to him and try to play along, and he might even give you a trinket or something."

I took the bottle and slid it under my vest. The bronze token in my palm felt like it was cutting lines into my flesh and my breath was a tight little wheeze in my chest. Had Haagan known somehow? Been able to guess that I had felt stirrings for Colin and the field slaves and men my whole life, stirrings that I should have felt towards women? Had he known somehow that I wouldn't resist? That I had never disobeyed an order in my life? Or had he just seen me as the only slave boy in the room that was small and skinny enough for him? 

I knew almost nothing about what happened when men used other men like women, except that they liked smaller, more womanly men. I stopped at the duck pond for one second, and in the smooth ice I could see a distorted image of myself, scrawny, dark-haired and dark-eyed. What on earth could possibly be attractive about me?

I hurried into the great hall, memories of that frightened farm boy filling my eyes and ears.

---

I slid behind him and he turned in his heavy wooden chair. I caught his eyes for a moment before turning submissively down, and the flash of his icy eyes made me flinch, and made my groin throb once, so hotly and powerfully that I gasped. I timidly gave him the bottle, and he took it from my hand. I flinched when his rough calloused fingers brushed mine. I was trembling like a mouse and my knees felt so weak that I might collapse.

He smiled broadly and I was surprised at the flash of white teeth. "You look feverish boy, come with me." I suddenly did feel feverish, with the wave of heat that pulsed through my body when he touched my forehead with the scarred knuckles on the backs of his fingers. My knees did buckle and he caught me as he stood up in a fluid motion. He put on his red cloak with the black designs on it, and swept me down the narrow hallway, while I followed, dry mouthed and confused and suddenly terrified.

This man was going to fuck me. I still remembered the bawling sounds the farm boy had made, first of pain, and then delirious shameful pleasure. Sometimes, when I jerked off in the darkness I played guiltily with my asshole, only it was so dry that even with spit I could only work one finger inside. How would a man's cock fit? I remembered those hurt screams that the boy had let out, the look of hurt on his simple face. I felt so scared.

Suddenly, we were in one of the private rooms. I had never been in one of the private rooms before. It was a stone room with a wooden floor and ceiling. A small fireplace burned brightly and warmly. There was a chest filled with Haagan's belongings and a small table with a small mirror of highly polished bronze. A ceramic basin and pitcher of water stood on the table. Instead of straw and a blanket, like I had always seen, there was a wooden frame with strings pulled tight across it, and resting on the strings was a thick woolen sack filled with straw and fresh herbs to make it smell nice.

The woolen blanket on the bed was dyed in bright colors, and over that, a thick sheepskin covering. He even had a shuttered window. The floor had a thick red rug covering it, and my slippered feet sank into the softness.

I turned to see Haagan, watching me with those unsettling bright eyes. I looked down, trembling and weak in the legs.

I felt so... there was no other word for it... feminine. I felt like one of the very young slave girls about to get raped for the first time. Sometimes eventually the girls liked it, especially if the man was gentle, but the first time it was always rape. I felt very aware of my body underneath my clothing, especially my cock, which was slightly erect. I had never felt this way before, hot and flustered and scared and eager all at once. More scared then eager. Sometimes, those girls who got raped for the first time came in and they would be bleeding and crying. Some even hanged themselves.

I remembered the cook's advice. To listen to every word he said, and to try to play along. I took a deep breath and slid out of my padded vest. I took a few trembling steps and placed my vest on a bit of bare floor near the wall. I didn't dare look at him, any moment, and he would jump on me like the men that women told stories about. My fingers were trembling, and I was having trouble untying the laces that kept my shirt tied tight at the neck and chest.

I flinched and gave a panicky little cry when his rough hand touched my trembling hands at my throat. His hand wrapped slowly around the neck of my shirt and pulled me in close. His chest, clothed in a horsehair vest and a sweat-stained lined shirt, was right in front of my nose, and I could smell the thick masculine smell of him. My knees weakened a little and for a moment he was holding me up.

My hands were on his chest and I was shaking, standing so close to him that his smell filled my nose and the tips of our footwear touched and when I swayed a little from weakness I could feel the tip of his erection brush my stomach through all of the cloth.

"So frightened..." He murmured, and his free hand was suddenly stroking my hair, petting me. I could feel my eyes close slightly, and a small moan escape my mouth. It felt very good. I felt a moment of humiliation, at being soothed like a frightened animal, but I just closed my eyes tight and tried to focus on how good that felt. My mouth felt so dry, I swallowed.

"Has another man ever had his way with you? Laid on top of you? Or forced you to touch him? Has another man maybe, put his mouth or hands on you?"

I shook my head, not daring to open my mouth or look up into his eyes. My cock twitched inside my pants. I was having thoughts, thoughts about Colin, and the field slave with the beautiful eyes. Thoughts about Haagan. Oh God, what was he going to do to me? And why was I aroused?

"Such a good boy though, yes... You are going to remember this night for a long time. Look up at me boy."

I was able to look up as far as his chin, covered with short dark red hair, and with a slight dimple. He put his hand under my jaw and made me look up the rest of the way. He didn't hurt me with his hand, but I could feel the strength of his hand, and knew that if he wanted to, he could have me screaming for mercy, my clothes torn open, cowering on the floor at any moment.

He had a new scar on his right cheek, a thin line that went right under the bone. That hadn't been there the last time I saw him. His eyes were pale, and full of a mixture of lust and curiosity, and a lazy sort of warmth. I could feel his heartbeat under my hands and his shirt, powerful and steady, like a horse. I jumped and cried out when a soft knock came from the door.


The Slave Boy 01



I had jumped slightly away from him, and he laughed and ruffled my hair with his big warm hand. My heart was beating frantically with fear and confusion and surprise and even lust. My cock was halfway hard in my pants, and this man was being so... so... I couldn't think of a word for what Haagan was doing to me.

"You keep trembling little one, kept stumbling in the great hall. I took the liberty of telling one of the other slaves to bring a little sustenance. "

He opened the door, and Colin was standing there, a large bandage on his head where the sharp edge of the metal plate had cut him. He looked at me with confusion, and then with something like disgust. He thought I was filthy. All of the strength drained out of my legs and I nearly fell. I cringed under his gaze.

He handed the dish to Haagan with a bow and he left with one last disgusted look at me. I felt tears beading up in my eyes. Haagan turned and I gasped weakly when I saw what was on the tray. A succulent slice of beef with slices of cooked onions and carrots all in thick gravy, and a small bowl of thick meaty soup, and even a fish that had been stuffed with greens and grain. There was also a small pitcher of water and a thick white cloth.

I was so hungry. Haagan pushed me back gently with his hand so I collapsed into a sitting position on the soft bed. "Slaves don't eat very much, so I just got you a little snack." He knew that this plate contained more meat then I normally ate in a year. He was joking with me.

He gave me a spoon and an eating knife and sat on the carved chair, facing me. He watched me as I ate. The meat was so rich, so succulent. I ate shreds from the slice of beef, hardly able to eat it. I was able to eat the carrots and onions easier. I ate the soup and felt strength reach every part of my shivering exhausted body. I was only able to nibble the fish, and I was too full. I wanted it so badly, but I knew that if I took one more bite of that rich meat, I would vomit all over the red rug.

I pushed the tray away. "Th-thank you Master Haagan. I...I have not had real meat in many moons." Even then, it had been a squirrel.

He took the tray from me and finished the slice of beef in four large bites, wiping the gravy that trickled down his chin. He tore the steamy flaking fish from the bones in quick neat bites, licking his fingers afterwards. I had only been able to finish the soup.

He smiled, amused. "Poor little kitchen slave, having to waste away preparing this meal and not even able to eat more then a crumb of it. What is your name boy?"

I looked down at my feet, and answered. "My name is Aro, sir."

The only thing left on the tray was the untouched napkin and the pitcher of water. He picked them up and put them on the floor near the bed. He saw me looking, and smirked.

"You will need them when we are done. Are you thirsty Aro?"

I looked up. Why would I need a napkin then? I was thirsty, that meat had been salty and juicy and now I craved the water, or maybe even the watered wine that they allowed us when we were working very hard. Instead, Haagan held up the strange French wine with the funny name. Con-yak.

He stood up and uncorked the cognac and held the bottle in front of my nose. The smell that wafted out was dry and acidic and sharply alcoholic. Much stronger then the sweet red wine most drank.

"Take a sip Aro, it is a dry little drink, but it will make you relax. It will make you enjoy."

I had been able to ignore why I was here when I was eating, but now I remembered. This man was going to fuck me. I leaned forward and took a long drink, even though the sharp liquor burned my mouth and lips with it's sourness. He pulled it away with a chuckle and took a swig himself, the expensive liquor dripping from his mouth and matting the short hairs of his beard.

The cognac hit my stomach like a flaming arrow and spread a wave of warmth throughout my body. He chuckled. "Little Aro doesn't have much luck holding his wine, does he?"

My vision quickly doubled, and then went back to normal, though my head felt light and warm. When I touched my cheeks they felt feverishly hot.

Suddenly Haagan was standing over me where I was sitting on the edge of the bed. He used his hands to grab my wrists and push me down onto my back. He lifted my legs up onto the bed and I refused to open my eyes, trembling and dizzy from fear and the cognac.

"Open those pretty eyes of your Aro."

I did, and suddenly I was looking up at his handsome face, thats right, he did have a handsome face. "I like to undress my boys personally."

I moaned a little when his warm hand touched the feverishly hot side of my neck. The strong effect of the swig of cognac was fading into a general lightheadedness. I looked up at him with fear, and strange taboo feelings of warmth all over my body. He took my face in both hands. His forefingers smoothed my eyebrows, his thumb explored my soft lower lip. The rest of his fingers buried themselves in his hair.

He leaned in, and I thought he was trying to kiss me but then my lip was between his teeth. He wasn't biting hard, just tugging in an almost playful way. He nipped my earlobes in those strong white teeth.

Then he went lower and I gasped as he bit and nibbled my neck. His teeth felt so good on that warm skin. He was so big. His body, leaning over me on the bed was lean but tall and broad and muscular. His arms were as thick as one of my legs, maybe thicker.

Then his hands were on my laces. I squirmed weakly and gasped out helpless little noises. I sounded like a hurt kitten, I was so ashamed at the weak, feminine noises I was making.

He unlaced my shirt with deft motions, and slid it over my head, carelessly tossing it to the side. My skin was covered in sudden goosebumps with the rush of cool air. I looked down at myself and all I could see was my slender white torso with my rose-colored nipples standing up in hard little buds from the cold. I had a small trail of scant dark hair leading from my navel to the waist of my trousers, and a few pitiful dark hairs between my nipples, but that was it.

He lifted himself slightly so he was sitting on the side of the bed and looking me slowly up and down. My cheeks were flushed and red and I mewed softly with fear. I felt like a wounded animal being targeted by a predator. He leaned down again and I felt his teeth on my neck again, scraping, biting.

His hands went around my rib cage, fingers splayed, holding me still while his mouth went down. I felt his rough beard on my chest and then on my nipples. He was biting and sucking them as if I were a woman and he was biting my breasts. I yipped and cried out. It felt so strange, I felt like I should be screaming and crying and fighting, but all I was doing was squirming to try and get my nipple further between those strong white teeth and whimpering with how good it felt.

My nipples were so tender. He pinched them between his fingers and twisted and I cried out, squirming a little underneath him.

"So sensitive." He breathed. I could feel the cool air of his breath on my sore and chafed nipples. He lapped his tongue down the narrow rift down the center of my stomach. I could feel his short beard scraping me all the way down.

I yelped when he stuck his tongue into my navel. It was a sensitive, erotic feeling. He splayed his hands on my hips, gripping hard, but just short of bruising me. I covered my face with my hands, gasping and feeling my breath on my face and feeling his slick tongue trace patterns on my ridged stomach. He nibbled and bit the skin around my navel.

He would see it, feel it. My erection was just under his rough chin, separated by the smallest of spaces and two layers of cloth. I whimpered as his chin bumped against the swollen head of my cock through the fabric.

"Uncover your eyes Aro." His voice was a throaty purr, excited and commanding. I put my hands down, feeling tears of humiliation and fear trickle into my hairline. He was looking up at me, smirking, his pale eyes lusting and glittering under dark brows.

"You're hard boy... You don't think I felt that?" He licked his full lips slowly, and I cried out and tilted my head back when he cupped the bulge in my trousers with his big rough hand. 

I covered my mouth with my hands and let out a few weak whimpering sobs. I felt so helpless. The warm glow of the Cognac made me dizzy and compliant. I was like a rag doll in his arms.

He untied the rough hemp cord that kept my pants up and yanked them down to my ankles in one rough motion. I whimpered and looked away, unable to watch as he undressed me like a girl. I felt that same feminine feeling that I did earlier, so helpless.

The air was cool on my bare legs and my skin rippled up into goosebumps. He sat back on his heels and surveyed me, smirking with his power over me. He was powerful, and he was Nordic, and he had clothes on. I was almost naked, a southern slave, and thin and underfed on top of everything else.

He smiled as he tugged off my slippers and stockings, and tugged off my trousers. I tried to cover myself with my hands, but he took hold of my wrists and pinned them to the bed at my waist. I was only wearing a small white loincloth. A cord around my waist, with a pouch-like cloth that went between my legs. My erection was visible, the length of my cock straining against the thin translucent cloth, and the heavy pouch of my testes below.

He licked his lips slowly, and looked into my eyes, his expression amused and eager. "You have a tasty member for such a little thing. Do you want to unwrap it for me?"

I let out a choked sob of humiliation. On top of everything else he would force me to uncover myself. He released my wrists and sat on my upper thighs to pin me. He was unlacing his shirt and watching me with his burning icy eyes.

I gingerly untied the cord around my waist. I slid the cord out of the top of the pouch, leaving the cloth covering me for as long as possible. I was probably just enticing Haagan more, but I didn't want to leave myself entirely naked for his gaze.

He was just in his trousers and shirtsleeves and stockings. His boots were still by the door. "Take off that little scrap Aro, you're ruining the view."

My hands were shaking so hard I couldn't hold on to the pouch. I finally just ripped it away and closed my eyes, trembling. He whistled softly, and I moaned when he ran his rough callused fingers very gently down the shaft of my cock. It felt so good. He didn't touch me again, and when I opened my eyes I couldn't help the breathless shocked little cry that escaped my lips.

Haagan the fierce had stripped out of his shirt. His body was ropy and lean with muscle, and a long pink scar stretched from under his arm to his navel. Thick dark reddish hair covered his chest and stomach in a bushy pelt. His dark nipples were surrounded by hair, and the little buds were erect from the cold air.

Haagan smirked at me. I felt so weak and un-masculine compared to him. I was skinny and small and smooth. He rubbed his crotch, and I gasped when I saw the thick bulge that his fingers moulded around.

"Like it Aro? This is going to be jammed in your pretty little ass soon..."

I cried out when his hand wrapped around my cock again. I was completely helpless, moaning like a whore in a dirty story when his hand was fondling my cock. My chest was covered in red marks from his teeth.

With one hand he untied the laces that kept the fly of his trousers shut. He reached into his trousers and pulled out his cock. I moaned deep in my throat. I had seen plenty of men naked before, but I had never seen another erect cock.

He grinned at me and held it in his hand and bobbed it so I could feel the hard hotness of it hitting my thigh. It was two inches or so longer then my own at maybe eight inches, and very thick. His fingers barely met around the base as he tapped the hard length against my thigh.

"It w-wont fit." I whispered. I could feel how pale my face was. "It wont f-f-fit!"

He ran his hand up the side of my body, and I gasped as he did, his fingers were so warm and rough. His thumb brushed my sore nipple, and then he raised his hand away. "You'll be able to take my cock Aro, I haven't met a boy who can't take it yet."

I shuddered as he gave my cock a few gentle strokes. "Take your hand Aro, and pet this pretty cock of yours. It will make you feel good."

He got up and walked to the other side of the room, casually kicking off his stockings and walking out of his breeches. His buttocks were firm and round and flexing as he walked, he had strong thick legs. I stroked my cock and watched him, dry-mouthed. Part of me wanted him. Part of me wanted him to touch me and bite me and fuck me all night.

He came back with a small leather flask. I had never seen anything like it. It was far too small for water, or even spirits. He walked back to the bed, naked, his eyes flashing. His body was a powerful V-shape into his hips, with strong legs and thick arms. His cock went out in front of him and wagged gently with every step. I could see a pearl of moisture glimmering at the tip. He stroked it casually with one hand. His pale eyes were gleaming.

He casually flipped me onto my stomach, grabbed my hips and pulled them into the air. I stayed there, with my face and chest against the thick sheepskin on top of the bed, closing my eyes and panting from the sensation. I felt his hand briefly caress my cock and I moaned low in my throat.

He stroked my ass with his hand, pinching and fondling my buttocks, and then spreading them. I whimpered as the most vulnerable and unexplored part of me was teased by a cool draft, and his fingertip.

Then I found out what was in the flask. Some kind of clear vegetable oil that he dribbled on his fingers and cock and my asshole. I could feel a thin stream of it running down my thigh as he rubbed it in circles around my twitching little hole. I cried out as he suddenly jabbed one finger into my asshole.

The finger curled inside me, and suddenly every part of my body twitched and broke out into a cool sweat. I cried out at the sudden warmth that flared through me. What had he done to me?

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He purred softly, jabbing his finger inside me again. I cried out as another wave of warmth flooded through my system. My cock stood hard and hot away from my body, bobbing against my stomach. I saw a little drop of precome land on the sheepskin covering under my stomach. It glistened gently in the oily fibers.

"I asked you a question boy." He jabbed his finger in me again, and I whimpered weakly with lust. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Y-Yes sir." My voice was desperate and hoarse.

"How good does it feel?"

"Ah! It f-feels amazing sir!"

He chuckled low in his throat and continued to move his finger in and out. Then I whimpered softly when he nudged at my opening with a second finger. My asshole was burning, but not too badly.

"How do you like that Aro? Do you like it when I fuck your little boy-cunt with my hand?" His voice was getting hoarser, and more eager. I could see his cock. He was giving it careless little strokes between plunging his slick fingers into me.

I cried out drunkenly. I wasn't sure how I felt anymore. I felt so vulnerable, and the little ring of muscle was aching and burning. I was drunk and scared, but my cock was raging and dripping and he kept nudging my sweet spot with his fingers, driving me crazy.

He soaked his fingers in oil again, and I let out a painful cry as he jammed three into my burning ass. His finger tickled my sweet spot and I reached for my cock, I was so close to coming, I needed to come.

He withdrew his hand and grabbed my wrist with his oily fingers. He grabbed both of my wrists and held them in one hand behind my back. I moaned as my cheek was buried in the sheepskin bed covering. The oily sheep-smell filled my nose as I closed my eyes and he stuck his fingers in me again, stretching and hurting and driving me insane.

"That's a naughty thing you did Aro, you can't come until I say you can come. Clasp your hands behind your neck, and don't move them until I give you permission. If you do, I will have you punished."

His voice was thick and growling and lustful. What for me was a terrifying prospect that could mean days of misery and pain and missed meals, it was an extra turn-on for him. I clasped my hands behind my neck, and that forced my face into the sheepskin. I couldn't see him. I was drunk and scared and my cock was dripping and hot and swollen.

I felt something hard and hot and slick against my burning asshole. I whimpered softly as he grunted and pressed hard. I let out a little scream when the head of his cock finally popped in.

He growled lustily. "Damn... You have such a tight cunt. I'll have to change that Aro!"

I let out a piteous whine as he slathered more oil on his cock and forced his way in even further. I felt like my asshole was on fire... It hurt so much and he wasn't even brushing my sweet spot and even my reddened angry cock was starting to wilt a little from the pain.

Suddenly, he jerked his hips and the head of his cock practically slammed into my sweet spot. My hurt whimper changed into a breathless cry of arousal, my cock twitched and became rock hard. The jolt of pleasure seemed to dull the pain slightly, change that burning feeling into a sensation of fullness.

"There we go Aro... Is it starting to feel good?"

"Y-Yes sir! Please do it again!"

He chuckled and moved so that the head of his cock was grinding against that special spot hard. I arched my back and cried out as beads of sweat popped from my flushed skin. He put his hands on my hips and started to shallowly fuck me. I could see his hips coming towards my hips by looking down and in between my splayed knees. He was only a few inches in.

I could also see my stiff needing cock. I needed release, I needed to rub it. I cried out with frustration and lust. His cock was filling me and leaving me, stretching and burning me. Bruising and battering me. The foreskin still partially covered the head of my cock, and I could see precome pooling around the slit, glimmering.

I could feel his heavy hairy testes slam into mine. I could feel his thick pubic hair against the little dimple at the top of my ass crack. He pulled my hips even further into him as I whimpered from the pain and he leaned over so his stomach pressed against my back. He moved so I was completely and fully enclosed in his grip. I could feel his muscularity, his hairiness, his hugeness. I could feel his short beard on my shoulder and his breath in my ear.

He started to hump his hips while holding me completely in his grasp. He swore and plunged and panted with ecstasy. His breathing was hoarse and rough and vinegary-smelling. Suddenly his hand reached around and closed on my throbbing oozing cock.

I cried out with lust. His hand was skilled and deft, rubbing me fast and tight. I humped my own hips, loving the sensation of fucking his hand and pushing my ass back onto his cock.

His hand squeezed my cock brutally and I wailed loud enough to be heard through the stone walls. I wailed and my cock spasmed and liquid fire spurted through my cock onto the bed. I could see the white ropes smearing the coverlet in thick patterns. I was reminded deliriously of the pastries the cook sometimes made, where he drizzled buttercream over them.

He pounded his hips so fast that his thighs made a clapping sound against mine. The force of his testes hitting mine was just short of painful. Then he swore and I could feel wetness inside my ass. I could feel hot creamy warmth that lubricated my burning sheath as he slowed and panted.

For a moment, he held me to him, and I could feel his cock softening inside me. I shivered, crushed under him on my knees with my hands cupping the back of my neck. I had time to think that this was actually nice. I hadn't ever thought that something like this could be anything but painful. But I wasn't bleeding, and I wasn't too sore. He had been rough, but he had used plenty of oil.




The Slave Boy 01



I had heard from the slave girls about men who fucked them in the ass without lubricant. They carried it with them, to try to convince the few men who would listen. Haagan had used oil, and now his body was resting against mine. He was so warm.

I felt my eyes closing, and I was just starting to relax when he grunted and got up, his soft cock sliding from me. I was shocked at the feeling of loss.

"You can put your hands away boy, and clean up."

He bent down and reached for the thick white cloth. He used it to wipe the semen and oil from his cock. He went over to the cognac and drank from the bottle.

I crawled to the edge of the bed. My asshole felt full, and sloppy; as if it would spill over. As soon as I put my legs down on the floor an unbelievable amount of come and oil spilled down my thigh. My asshole spasmed weakly as I tried to keep it in, and even more spilled out. It landed on the carpet, and Haagan was smirking at me.

I felt so humiliated and degraded at that moment. Shivering and naked, trying to crawl of the bed and leaking all over the floor. I felt like a dog that had piddled on a fine rug. Tears started to leak from my eyes and I tried to hold them back, my stomach feeling queasy with shame.

I used the thick absorbent cloth to wipe myself and the carpet as best as I could. With him watching, I knelt over it and clenched my ass to make the rest of it dribble out and onto the cloth. I did it with leaking eyes and a red face. I was trembling the whole time. I had never felt so used, so ashamed.

When no more would come out, though I still felt slippery and loose, I stood up. I was slightly hunched, half because I was sore all over, and half because I was feeling so submissive and cowed. I reached for my loincloth where it had fallen; I needed to go help with dinner, and to get away from those cold pale eyes.

"No." He didn't speak loudly, just firmly. I still flinched and dropped the scrap of white fabric. I still felt a jolt of fear and arousal and mistrust. I felt so vulnerable around him.

"You'll be spending the night with me Aro. It's been a long time since I have had a boy in my bed, and I am going to enjoy every moment of it. Get back on the bed."

I winced where I stood, and crawled back into the bed. I curled up on my side so I would not be facing him. I let the tears stream down my cheekbone and into my ear. I was so naked. I shivered from the cold, but didn't have the courage to cover myself up. It was probably forbidden.

Suddenly the mattress strings squeaked. I stiffened as he crawled onto the bed.

"Get off the covers boy, I'm freezing." His voice was gruff and businesslike. I squirmed up the bed and he hefted the sheepskin cover and the colorful wool blanket. He slid under and yanked me under as well.

It was so warm under the soft wool covers. I could feel his hairy lean body so close to mine, and I tried to flinch away, but he just put an arm around my waist and pulled me closer. I could feel his soft cock against my ass, and his beard scraping my neck.

Eventually I just went limp. He held me closer, and the warmth of his body was actually very comforting. He was fantastic when he was holding still, and just holding me to him. I stayed there, and hoped that he would fall asleep, and forget about his desire to stay active all night long.

---

I had finally been drifting off to sleep when he woke from his doze and I felt his hardening cock against my ass. He threw the covers off of us and I curled into a fetal ball at the chilly air on my naked body.

"Wake up Aro." He sounded amused, and excited. He sounded eager. I uncurled, shivering in the cool air. The fire had died down greatly and it was cold in here.

Far from looking fazed, his thick cock actually seemed harder and perkier because of the cold. He was on his knees, looking down at me where I was laying, smiling. His arms were covered in goosebumps and his thick chest hair looked warm.

"Come here Aro."

I crawled to him, and I nuzzled my face against his chest. I'm not quite sure why I did it. Maybe it was because he had been kind enough to feed me and use oil. Maybe it was because despite how humiliated I felt, he had made sure that I was aroused, and that I reached climax. I knew that this could have been many times more humiliating and painful. 

I rubbed my cheek against the rough warmth of his chest, and somehow, I felt safe. Haagan wouldn't hurt me. He might do things that felt disgusting and shameful and amazing, but he wouldn't hurt me.

"That's a good boy..." He murmured, stroking my hair in both of his hands. His voice was a little softer. He understood that I was going to trust him. "Come up here boy..."

I straightened so I was on my knees as well, leaning forward a bit so our groins didn't touch. My genitals were still small and shriveled and soft in the chill air. His pale eyes shone brightly, and then he cupped my beardless cheeks in his hands and kissed me.

Nothing could have shocked me more. I hadn't expected a kiss at all, or if he had kissed me, maybe a rough slobbering kiss while he buggered me, but not this. His stubbly beard scraped my lips and chin. His lips were strong and warm, and he was cradling my head in his hands. I could feel my cock twitch with first signs of life.

I broke away from the kiss, shocked, and staring at him, wide-eyed and confused. He chuckled and pulled me in again. This time his mouth opened, and his tongue was suddenly intruding mine. I wasn't sure what to do, it was caressing the inside of my mouth, my tongue. I sucked on it and he growled softly with pleasure.

I thought nothing of it when he took one of his hands away from my face. I was getting into the kiss, so I barely noticed when he gently rested his hand on my hip. Then I let out a surprised yelp when he pulled my hips right into his, so my hardening cock rubbed against his.

I closed my eyes again with a soft moan as he started to hump his hips gently, rubbing against me, inflaming me. It felt so good, so dirty, but at the same time so good.

I whimpered softly with frustration and confusion when he put both of his hands on my head and pushed me away from the kiss.

"It's time for you to learn how to handle a man's cock."

I was confused. Was he going to fuck me harder? Why was he pushing me down? His hands curled over my shoulders and he was pushing me down with my face near his chest, pushing me closer and closer to his...

I suddenly realized what he wanted me to do. For a moment, every part of me was repulsed and repelled by the idea. I let him push me down until I was level with his cock, but a little voice inside my head was screaming at me.

I whimpered softly and tried to pull away, but he held me there. "Oh, Aro, you were just starting to enjoy it... Now behave, or I'll have to give you a whipping."

I flinched. I thought he was starting to be kind, but if he was still willing to whip the skin from my back, then perhaps I was wrong about him. I leaned forward slowly. I would do it, but I wanted to do it on my own terms, I didn't want to be forced into it. Forced into it any more then I was already being forced into it anyway...

I kept expecting him to force my head down, but he didn't. He just held me still while I tentatively stuck my tongue out to taste a man's cock for the first time. It was right in front of my nose, eager and hard and twitching. I could see the tip of my tongue touching it for the first time. It was warm, and it tasted salty.

I rested on my hands and knees, and I moved forward so the head of his cock moved between my lips. I moved down, it was surprisingly easy if I just didn't think. His thick cock moved smoothly in and out of my mouth, bumping the back of my throat. I wrapped my hand around the base of him. He tasted like olive oil and musk. I realized that I was tasting myself.

That wasn't all I was tasting. As I rubbed my tongue over the head tentatively, I tasted clear precome oozing from the slit. It was salty, and earthy. I liked the sensation, and I wrapped my lips around his head to suck the precome from the slit.

He hissed softly, and pushed my head down. I flinched, but he just chuckled. "Down boy... I'm not made of leather."

I raised my head. "Sorry." I whispered tentatively. He grinned, and I couldn't help but like the fondness in his eyes.

I lowered my head and wrapped my lips around the hot smooth head. I could feel the foreskin against my lips, and I pushed it back as I pushed my head down. I could taste droplets of his precome on my tongue. 

He stroked my hair, and suddenly he was lying back. He lolled on his back, propped up by pillows. He pulled me between his legs to keep sucking on his member. I had to lie down on my stomach to get comfortable. I propped myself up on my elbows and tentatively pulled the tip of his member into my mouth. I tried to go deep, as if my mouth was a woman's pussy. I could only take a little of him without choking.

I flinched when he tangled his fingers in my hair. "Stop trying so hard Aro. It's not about how deep you go. Use your hand, see? Just suck on the tip, nice and gentle. Use your tongue... Ahh... there you go..."

I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft. I could feel the thick dark reddish hair covering his groin against my hand, and a few hairs near the base of his dick. I accidentally drooled a little over his cock, and I tried to hide it by rubbing the saliva in. He growled with pleasure and stroked my hair. I tried to do it again, drool over his member and rub the saliva around with my hand.

"You learn fast boy... Keep licking the tip, and rub harder." I did so. It was like a puzzle that I needed to solve somehow. At least I thought it was like that, until I realized that my own cock was rock-hard. He wasn't touching me, he wasn't pounding my sweet spot, I was aroused. That was just another low that I had reached. I found myself moaning as I sucked on the rigid flesh of his cock, and rubbed his thick base.

He was growling with pleasure. He put the flat of his hands on my head and forced my head down so hard that I choked with surprise, and suddenly I could taste something thick and bitter and creamy. It was his come. He was coming in my mouth.

He was breathing heavily. I was sucking on his cock, feeling his come fill my mouth. I wanted to spit it out, but he took my jaw in his hands and looked into my eyes.

"Swallow it boy." I was frozen in the shadow of his amazing pale eyes. I felt my throat work, and his creamy semen coating my throat. I was suddenly and painfully thirsty. I looked down. I had swallowed it. Swallowed a man's come, like a moaning whore in a dirty story. I felt my eyes stinging.

Haagan leaned over me, and pushed me down onto my back. He was moving slowly, his smile was warm, and his eyes were lazy, half-shut. He reached for my groin, and I flinched. I thought he was reaching for my anus, that he wanted to fuck me again. A rational part of my mind told me that he wouldn't be able to fuck me so soon, but I was scared anyway.

I gasped when his hand wrapped around the shaft of my cock, and he stroked me gently. I closed my eyes and moved my hips gently. My body was betraying me. My body always betrayed me. By being weak, being aroused, being human. His fingers were so rough, but so warm. I could sense the strength in them. He was being so gentle, but if he wanted he could clamp his hand on the most vulnerable part of me, and cause unimaginable pain. I was shaking, not because I thought he would do it, but because I was so completely at his mercy.

I flinched when his finger touched my sore anus. I was right, he was reaching there. The tip of his finger slid easily into the sheath of my asshole, I was still slick down there, with traces of oil and come.

It hurt, my sphincter was bruised and softened, and the walls were battered, but it was just one finger at least. I whined softly as he continued to stroke my aching cock and wormed his finger deeper inside me. I gasped when the tip of his thick digit touched my sweet spot.

I shivered and felt my body break out into sweat. He was grinning up at me, grinning lazily. Part of me hated him so badly, as he had me there, helpless and sweating and moaning with his finger up my ass. The rest of me loved him for it, and that just made me hate myself even more.

Tears leaked from my eyes as I whimpered and felt come spurt from my throbbing aching cock.

He grinned down at me, and gave my cock a small pat. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Come here."

I flinched when his ropy muscular arm snaked around my waist and pulled me into his body. I stiffened completely, clenching every muscle. His body was fully against me, warm and smooth and hot and rough with hair in places. I could feel his breath against the back of my neck.

It was dark. I could feel his breath get shallow and slow. He smelled wild, like an animal. His arm relaxed around my waist. I waited, and eventually I heard him snore. I tried to move away. I had to leave. I gasped when his arm tightened, pulling me against his chest.

He muttered something, and snored. I wouldn't be able to leave tonight. I went limp, and felt tears leak from my eyes. I was so confused, so tired. I needed to sleep, or the slave-master would punish me. He would probably already punish me for not leaving after the first round.

Haagan... He had been one of the men who captured me. He had made it so I became a kitchen slave instead of one of the poor bastards in the fields or the mines. He made me feel amazing, and I couldn't deny the arousal and lust that I felt when he touched my body. At the same time, I couldn't deny how scared I was of him. It went against every instinct, everything that I had learned, to relax and trust this man. Our masters were cruel, always. But here was Haagan, who had taken me into his room, fed me, fucked me, but made sure I came both times. I just didn't know how to feel.

He grunted and pulled the covers over us both. I blinked, suddenly drowsy. His breath was warm and steady on the back of my neck. He was a strong virile man, and I would need to get some sleep before he woke up again.

I closed my eyes, and I fell gratefully into the arms of sleep. 

---

I was wrong.

I thought that he would wake me up again, but when I opened my eyes it was daytime. I could hear the fires roaring, and I could hear the slave bell ringing. It took all of my self control not to leap from the mattress and sprint to the kitchens.

Also, his arm was still tight around my waist, and he was snoring softly into my ear. I pulled the covers up a little higher, over my shoulders.

I had time to rest, and to think. I would most definitely get punished for this night of neglecting my duties. Girls were switched if they stayed with one man for too long, and men were punished harder then the women. I wanted to stay with Haagan as long as I could.

I realized that I was considering seducing him when he woke up. Anything to have him stay with me... Even fucking me again, but my asshole was so sore.

I could feel his heartbeat, his rough chest, his limp genitals. I could feel his short beard against the back of my neck. I closed my eyes. I couldn't help it, I couldn't ignore it. I had feelings for Haagan. My feelings were desperate, and confused, and a little frightened. But Haagan was still the first person to have treated me with any sort of kindness or gentleness since I had been enslaved four years ago. He had taken care of me, in his own way. The alcohol and the oil... Even when he made sure to make me come.

He was so warm. My stomach felt sick at the thought of how I would be punished for my absence... But his presence comforted me.

He shifted with a groan, and his hand moved up further so it was resting on my chest. I shivered at the sensation on my sensitive nipple. He was not awake, just moving around as he slept. As he settled into his new position, I settled too.

I was going to get punished, I might as well wring out every ounce of pleasure that I could.

---

I felt it when he woke up for real. He yawned and stretched like a cat. He kissed the back of my neck and rolled out of bed, rubbing his temples and grimacing. I stayed frozen for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. I could hear the stream of his urine hitting the bottom of the chamber pot.

I rolled over and peeked at him from under the covers. I could see the muscular expanse of his back and shoulders, his firm chiseled buttocks and firm muscled legs. He was a prime fit example of a man. His reddish hair was shorn close to his head, and I could make out the tendons in the back of his neck.

He prodded the fire, kneeling so his muscles moved and flexed under the skin. He stoked it and added a split log.

I moved slowly, stretching under the covers. I jumped when he looked back at me. His eyes were piercing and cold. My anus felt numb and painful. When he looked away again, I reached between my legs to feel. The little ring of muscle was raw, and stretched, and it still felt oily.

He took a deep drink from the pitcher, and then to my horror, he was reaching for his leggings. He couldn't get dressed now! I didn't want to go back!

"Um... M-Master Haagan?" He looked at me and grinned warmly.

"What is it Kitten?"

The endearment shocked me.  Shut me up. I just didn't know what to think, so I looked down and shut my mouth. What was I doing? And why did I feel such a humiliating mixture of pleasure and indignity at my new nickname?

He snorted softly, and he dropped his leggings to walk back to the bed. I was gratified and hesitant to see that his thick cock was soft, but starting to twitch. He reached out, and I did everything in my power not to flinch when he cupped my jaw in his warm hand. He tilted my head so I was looking up into his pale eyes.

"Come on, don't clam up now. What was it you were going to say Kitten?"

My mouth felt frozen. My tongue felt like a stone covered in leather. I managed to speak, but not the words I had wanted to say. I needed to seduce him, bring him back, but all that would come out of my mouth was.

"Please... Don't go."

He wasn't smiling anymore. My breath caught in my throat. Was he angry?

"What is that old cook going to do to you when you get back?" This Haagan was different. All night long he had been half-drunk and jovial, horny and gleeful. Now he looked serious.

I told him the truth. "Strip me in the courtyard, pour water on me and whip me, Sir." His fingers tightened slightly on my jaw and I flinched. I couldn't meet his piercing blue eyes. They were just too intense.

He was very quiet. Then he startled a little cry out of me when he leaned in and kissed me hard. This was different then before, intense, like he was trying to swallow me whole. When he broke it, I couldn't help but look him in the eye. He was smiling again, and something inside of me melted.

"That wont happen." He murmured.

Then I was on my back, with his naked body over me, kissing him hard enough that my lips hurt and feeling his hard cock dig into my stomach. He was reaching, reaching for something I couldn't see. I didn't try to see it, one of my hands was tangled in his hair and the other was on the flat of his back. I didn't know how I felt, and I didn't care. I was exhilarated and breathless, my cock was hardening fast, grinding against his hard stomach.

I felt a sudden panic and exhilaration when his fingers were between my legs, slick with oil. I froze up, and whimpered softly.

"Hush." He said gruffly, "It will feel good in a minute."

I couldn't help myself. I let out a scared moan when his fingers penetrated, just underlining how sore I was. He stuck two fingers inside of me and I squirmed with discomfort. I closed my eyes tight, and I could feel him slathering his cock with oil. He was panting with how eager he was, his breath was moist and hot in my ear. I clung to his back, eyes wide open, shivering and looking up at the wooden ceiling.




The Slave Boy 01



His cock pushed at my sore and violated entrance, and then pushed in. I let out a muffled cry of pain, and Haagan shushed me gruffly, groaning under his breath. He started moving his hips in shallow thrusts, grinding my battered insides with his thick throbbing member. I was panting so quickly and shallowly it sounded like I was crying. My fingernails dug into his back, and he grunted. I couldn't help it. It felt like I was being split open by a tree.

I let out a high-pitched mew of pleasure and relief as he hit my sweet spot. It was a magical place, that eased the pain and filled me with intoxicating pleasure.

He kissed me, and it was welcome. Tears were streaming down my face from the pain of the initial entry. When he kissed me, he slowed down, grinding the head of his cock against my sweet spot and darting his tongue in my mouth to taste me while I clung to him and wrapped my legs around his flexing lower back.

He broke the kiss and tucked his chin behind my shoulder. He dug his hands under me and clasped my shoulders, he spread his legs, and suddenly he was pistoning in and out of me. I cried out with pleasure and eye-watering pain as he reamed me open, my aching cock bouncing between us, his hot grunts in my ear.

He grunted and thrust very hard, his entire body tense and trembling like a wire. I was numb down there, but I could still feel the hot come leaking out of me. Feel his hard cock softening inside of me.

He sat up, panting. Suddenly his hand was on my cock, stroking and squeezing. His one hand cradled my testes and squeezed them very gently. I cried out and arched my back. The pleasure was intense and hot and everywhere after the pain. I was rushing towards a climax so quickly that I didn't care how I looked.

I writhed on the bed and clutched handfuls of the coverlet in my hands and I let out a gasping cry when I felt my groin explode with pleasure. I could feel hot liquid drops landing on my abdomen and chest.

I panted, and went limp.  Haagan lay down on top of me, crushing my body underneath his, his head resting on the bed, his ear against my cheek. I could feel him panting, his chest expanding and getting smaller. I could feel his soft cock against my softening cock. I could feel his heart beating, his wiry hair against me. His hot breath in my ear.

I tentatively rested my hands on his back, one between his shoulder blades, one on his lower back, feeling the ridge of his spine. His arms were splayed above me. He was exhausted. The sex had been brief, violent, and he was covered in sweat.

I closed my eyes. I just wanted to sleep, to cherish the extra few minutes I had until I would have to report to the slave-master. I couldn't sleep though. My stomach felt upset.

He had just violated me. It had been so painful that I had been crying and begging for him to stop. He still hadn't stopped. He had taken my innocence, three times. I was in a lot of pain. I should have hated him, but I didn't.

His weight was constricting, but it felt nice. I liked the warmth of his body draped over mine. I liked him.  He had given me something new, and precious. I had never been able to have pleasure before, half of the time when we settled into our straw beds at night, I was too tired even to stroke myself. My asshole was sore and gaping and burning, but I felt empty. I wanted to be filled again.

And with that, my eyes closed.

---

I was being shaken awake. I jumped blearily into alertness, looking around frantically, ready to duck or dodge a blow.

I relaxed only slightly when I saw that Haagan was over me. He was fully clothed, in leather leggings and a linen shirt and a horsehair vest and a long gray cloak. He was wearing his heavy riding boots and all ready to go. I felt sick to my stomach. The slave-master was not going to be lenient with me.

Haagan's voice was chipper and alert. "Hup, Aro, it's time to go!"

I pulled the covers around my skinny chest. I had several oval red marks on my chest from where he had given me hickeys. "Wh-What do you mean, S-Sir?"

"I bought you Kitten... You're coming with me. I had one of the girls fetch your things, so get dressed. It's two days ride to Whitthorne."

He was right. My pitiful bundle of belongings was neatly wrapped on the floor, and he had even laid out some fresh clothes for me to wear. I was trying to think, trying to comprehend the consequences.

I was no longer the slave of Boris Strong-Hammer. I belonged to Haagan now. I belonged to the man who had fucked my ass raw. I belonged to the man who I secretly desired, despite (or perhaps because of) the things he did with my body.

I rolled out of the bed, naked and sore. He was full of energy. He pulled my linen shirt over my head, talking about how eager he was to be home.

He was treating me differently now. There was a gentleness to his movements that had been absent. He fastened the cloak over my shoulders, and held me at arms length to take a look at me.

"Damn, you are a pretty little man aren't you? Follow me Aro, we're leaving."

I moved through the hallways and into the main hall. Many of the men were still sleeping. Disheveled and red-eyed serving girls cleaned up and served watered wine and porridge to those who were awake. The men were mostly hungover, and they eyed the girls blearily, as if wondering if it was worth it to take them.

I walked through the hall in a sort of daze. My ass felt sore, but in a good way. Just walking made me feel how my asshole had been stretched, and it was making me horny. I was leaving. It didn't seem possible, but I was leaving.

The skeptical, sensible part of my mind warned me that Haagan might be just as cruel. He might even be worse. I might be working sixteen hours a day and then still expected to be fucked every night.

But I was still hopeful. Was it wrong of me to hope that my life would get better with him? Was it really too much to ask for?



The Slave Boy 02



*Yo!

Just a word, this was supposed to just be one piece, so you might want to read the last few paragraphs of the first chapter. There is no real beginning or end, just a break between the two.

l know how shameless this is, but I want to advertise an upcoming story! I'm going to submit to my first contest. Next Nude Day contest, keep your eyes peeled for 'The Goats' It will appear normally, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed! ^_^

Enjoy!

All characters are 18+*

*

I blinked in the bright sun as I left the castle. I felt like I was running away, even though I knew that Haagan had bought me. I was just so cowed from my years here that I looked around nervously, afraid that at any minute the slave-master would see me and lash me for being insolent enough to think I could leave for any reason.

He had four shaggy ponies when he came here, a mount and three weighted down with loot. Now he had three. The heavy saddlebags were lighter, and less rounded. I was surprised that I had been worth so much, and even more surprised that he had bothered to pay it.

I was moving slowly because of the pain between my legs. He patted the back of a scruffy roan mount. The pony's shoulder was slightly below mine, but he was very sturdy, with heavy bones and a thick muscular body

I hadn't ridden a horse in years, and even then it had been a massive tame plow horse covered in straps to hold onto. I wasn't even sure how to mount.

The pony could sense my apprehension. All of their horses were only half-tamed anyway. The ill-tempered roan snapped at me and neighed shrilly. I flinched back against the corral wall and the pony easily pulled the reins from my hand and ran back into the herd.

Haagan looked down at me from the back of his bay pony. "I'm s-sorry Sir." I stammered, looking down at my feet in the soft churned earth.

He only laughed. A huge belly laugh. He dismounted and beckoned me over.

"This is Abba. She's a gentle lass, she wont hurt you, Kitten." He made a step for me with his hands to help me up.

I let out a soft gasp of pain when I settled in the rough saddle. He was holding the reigns with one hand and with the other he gently squeezed my hand. "It's alright Aro." He murmured. His voice was surprisingly gentle, kind. It was surprising. I had thought I knew how to react around him, but he kept surprising me.

He led me twice around the corral, teaching me to use the reins. Abba was very patient. He went off to collect the roan and his packhorse. I timidly led Abba around in little circles. She snorted boredly. I rubbed her rough warm overcoat. "Please don't throw me Abba," I whispered. "And I promise, I'll find you a big carrot."

She snorted, and took off on her own accord to follow Haagan and the packhorse. I just struggled to hold onto her shaggy mane without pulling on the reins. My ass throbbed dully with every jolt, and then we were trotting down a narrow road of icy dirt. We were leaving. I gave one last look to the place where I had been a slave for four years. I was still afraid of what was to come, but I felt nothing for the place I was leaving behind.

Haagan was looking back at me, and he was smiling kindly. "Getting better at hanging on there, Kitten?" He called back to me.

"Yes Sir." I called back.

He looked back at me with a strange look on his face. He looked like he was unsure of what to say. Then he tugged on the roan's reins so that the pony pulled back until he was in step with me. 

"Call me Haagan from now on." He said quietly. "If you call me Haagan, I'll call you Aro."

He was changing. I looked up from where my white-knuckled hands clutched Abba's mane. I looked into his pale icy eyes, and somehow, the indifferent lust in his eyes was gone. He looked different, kinder. His look sent a chill down my spine, and I felt a tingle of sensation at my groin. I was attracted to him. Especially now that he was acting friendly.

"Um... Yes Haagan." His name rolled off of my tongue like silk. I liked being able to say his name. He grinned, and a bit of his cocky self was back. He moved back up to the front of our little procession, with me in the back and our packhorse in the middle.

---

My clothes were inadequate for the harsh winter cold. Sure my cheap woolen cloak was good for darting from cellar to kitchen to keep, but not for much else. By the time the sun had reached it's apogee I was hunched over the saddle like my spine was deformed. My sleeves were pulled over my frozen fingers as rough hand-covers and my hood was pulled over my face so I could barely see. I trusted Abba to follow the roan.

My legs felt like slabs of aching meat. I had been clinging to Abba with my legs for hours, and I was losing feeling. I had lost contact with my feet a long time ago. They dangled to either side of the horse in soft cloth stirrups. My entire body felt cramped into place.

My fingers were frozen into crooked claws in Abba's mane. I was shivering badly. I let out a harsh gasp of relief when Haagan halted by a small copse of evergreen trees. He dismounted and started tying the horses to trees where they could paw at the frozen tufts of grass.

"Alright Aro? Come on, get down from there..."

He helped me down, and I stumbled, and only his arms protected me from landing facedown on the frozen earth. He felt how I was shaking and he cursed softly. He pressed his big warm hand against my cheek, and then he grasped my shaking ice-cold hands in his.

"Damn you Aro, why didn't you say you were frozen to your saddle? Or that you were wearing this flimsy bit of nothing?"

My teeth were chattering. I cowered from him, falling from his grip to the hard earth, shielding my head with my arms. "I'm sorry M-Master Haag-g-gan... I... I d-d-didn't... I didn't think you w-w-w-w-would h-help me if I d-d-d-did."

He dragged me over to a fallen log and plopped me down on it. The next second I was surrounded by a heavy stupefying layer of warm soft fur. My body convulsed with a wave of shivering as the warmth heated me to the core. He had taken off his heavy fur-lined cloak and wrapped it around my shoulders.

He didn't speak to me. He grumbled and gathered dead wood and twigs into a massive heap in front of the logs. He took a bit of tinder from one of the saddlebags and lit it quickly and effortlessly with a flint and steel. The entire time he was giving me an exasperated look and grumbling under his breath. At first I was petrified, but as it continued, I relaxed slightly.

He had no ill will towards me. It was a strange thing to get used to. He was frustrated, but he wasn't going to punish me. His cloak was so warm. I felt sleepy and stupefied surrounded in the luxurious warmth. The cloak was caribou fur, with wolverine trim on the hood. Wolverine fur didn't gather frost from breath, so it was a good material for trim. Caribou fur was double-layered, lightweight, and the individual hairs were hollow, making it very insulating. Caribou made the best winter clothing.

He dug in the saddlebags and pulled out a pouch of food. He gave me a thick slice of heavy journey-bread. The bread was brown and coarse and filled with nuts and wheat and oats and whatever grains had gone into making it. With it, a wedge of pungent goat cheese, a stick of dried meat, and half of a thick orange carrot. The portions were much bigger then I was used to. Without pausing, he sat on the log next to me, apparently oblivious to the cold. He munched on his bread and cheese hungrily and silently, still frustrated with me.

I took a small bite of the cheese. I had been given a lot to think about. "Thank you Si-- Haagan. I... forgive me please."

He gave me a sideways glance, appraising me. The fire's heat was stupendous and baking. I felt so alive, so sleepy. He spoke between bites of cheese and meat.

"I have to apologize, too." What a shock that gave me. I almost felt uneasy. He was a Nord, a master. They never apologized to the likes of me. "I treated you like a whore this morning, and the night before. I hurt you. I apologize."

Without really thinking, I leaned against him. I rested my head on his muscular shoulder. "It's okay." I whispered, nibbling on the bread. "I wanted to."

He chuckled, and put an arm around me while we ate. For the rest of the quick meal, we were in silence. He had changed. He was treating me... He was treating me like a lover, an equal, not a slave. After the meal, I tried to give him back the warm cloak, but he just shook his head and pulled a jacket of fur-lined leather armor from his back, donning the heavy garment instead.

While he changed, I slipped the carrot to Abba.

He shrugged when I tried to apologize for taking his cloak. "Don't worry Aro, my armor is very warm... just a little heavy. Do you need help getting on Abba?"

I nodded guiltily, and he chuckled. He made a step with his laced fingers and I landed on Abba with a wince.

"Haagan?" I called after him. He paused to pet Abba's soft muzzle.

"Yes Aro?"

I felt myself blushing. "You... You can call me Kitten if you want. I... I liked it."

He grinned widely, his solemn pale eyes twinkling with humor. "Very well... Kitten. Stay warm, and if you get sore or cold, tell me, and I'll help you. I'm not made of stone."

Then, it was not so much his cloak that kept me warm. It was more the burning feeling of joy and hope and hopelessly confused love in my chest.

---

We joined a group of farmers that had been visiting family in a neighboring town. I had never really interacted with ordinary Norse farmers or villagers. There was Sven and Ingrid and three boys, aged twelve, ten, and six. The boy's Grandmama was in the pony-drawn cart along with their belongings. We moved slower, but I knew that it was better to travel in groups, for fear of bandits or disaster, and Haagan reassured me that we would reach the town of Talrun for the night.

They knew I was a slave. Haagan was able to laugh and joke and trade trinkets with them, but I just clumsily rode Abba and stayed quiet. Sometimes they gave me strange looks, but otherwise they ignored me.

Haagan was so at ease with them. His name was Haagan the fierce, but I remembered that in all of the rumors and boasts about him, they mentioned that he was also a farmer.

I was so tired that I was nearly dozing in the saddle. It was getting dark, and I was jolted to awareness when I heard my name.

"Yes, that's Aro. Boris treats his chattel worse then animals, that's why he's such a skinny little thing. I wanted a strong boy to help me out around the farm. Hopefully, I wont have to go on so many raids this summer, I've been in service for the Jarl a long time."

Sven nodded sympathetically. "You're a man after my heart. The Jarl needs to stop his constant raiding and think about the land. You cannot have a nation without farmers. You can't feed your people with gold and steel, you need wheat and oats and wool and mutton."

Sven squinted. "I think I see the town lights. Me and my kin will be weathering it out here, good luck to you Haagan, and to your boy as well."

Haagan dismounted to give the man a rough one-armed embrace. "You're well-met, and good luck with the spring planting."

I made due with bowing my head to him silently. I felt so strange, riding a horse and wearing a fine cloak with red dye and caribou fur while they were clothed in padded wool. It felt weird and unseemly.

Talrun was a large village, not walled, but the town center was surrounded by spiked pits and a heap of packed earth as a defense. I had never been to a town. I had been dragged from a slave ship, stored in a barn while they fed us a few square meals and tried to make us look as healthy as possible. Then the slave-master had chosen me and a few others, and we had walked to Strong-hammer's keep with ropes around our necks.

It being sunset, the town's activity was dying down, but I looked with curiosity at the warmth and lights of two taverns. I looked at the abandoned work-yards of the blacksmith, the carpenter, the tanner, and the cobbler. The streets were wide and packed with loads of stones dragged in from the countryside to prevent them from being mired in wet weather.

We stopped at a large horse-barn, and Haagan paid a silver penny to corral and feed the ponies. The groom smirked when Haagan had to help me dismount. I was warm, but so sore that I cried out with pain from my stiff and aching legs.

Haagan gathered up the supplies he wanted to keep close and we went to the tavern.

The innkeeper met us at the door. He was a blonde man with a thick luxurious beard and thin hair. He was slightly heavy, but he looked tough and scarred. The tavern was filled with men and women having a meal at the carved wooden tables. Two dark-haired serving girls moved around, cleaning and sweeping and serving. They looked healthier and happier then any of the girls from the keep. I stayed behind Haagan, looking at the floor, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

Haagan bought us a room for one night. He requested that our meals be brought upstairs, and he paid an extra pence for a basin of hot water.

I looked up and I saw that the Innkeeper was looking right back at me, his bushy eyebrows raised. I flinched and looked back at the ground timidly.

"Go upstairs Sir, the second door on the left is free. I'll have my girl come up in a half hour with the meals and the water. Have a good rest, and enjoy your mead and meal."

"I will, and thank you." Haagan led me up the stairs and into our room.

---

The room was small, but cozy. Lit with a lantern, and kept warm with a small iron brazier of coals. The bed was clean and wide, a tick of straw filled with herbs to kill smells and ticks. It was covered with a heavy wool coverlet dyed blue. I looked around, curious. We had a pitcher of water, and a chamber pot, a small table, and two chairs.

Haagan's hand was warm and heavy on my shoulder. "You move like an old man... Have you never ridden a horse before?"

He was leading me gently, but inescapably towards the bed. "No Haagan... Not since I was little."

He nudged me so I fell onto the bed. I sat there, wincing and taking off his cloak. I stripped out of my cloak and was starting to untie the laces of my shirt when he asked me quietly.

"Kitten? What are you doing?" I looked up and he was grinning at me, his arms crossed with an amused expression on his face.

I felt my face flush. "W-... Weren't you going to..." I shut up, unable to finish the sentence. He chuckled and stripped out of his heavy leather armor, hanging it on a rack near the door. He gathered up the cloaks, his magnificent fur-lined one as well as my cheap wool one. He put them on the rack as well.

"Maybe later Aro... But as for now all I wanted to do was try and rub the aches out of you. Just lie on your stomach and relax."

I blushed bright red and lay down on my stomach, feeling strange and vulnerable. "Thank you Haagan." I whispered.

Suddenly his hands were on my back, and he was grinding his knuckles into the skin. I gasped with pain, but oh it felt so good! He was digging his knuckles into the taut knots of muscle that had developed from an entire day hunched and shivering in the saddle. I could feel my muscles loosening and going limp with every rough dig of his hard thumbs and knuckles.

"Mmmmmmmm" I groaned. He chuckled and went down my back, rubbing my lower back which had been incredibly sore earlier. It was like the pain was seeping out of my muscles and away into his hands.

"Here." He murmured. "Take your clothes off."

I was so much putty in his hands at that point. My torso was limp and aching and relaxed and my eyes were half-closed with ecstasy. I slowly wriggled out of my clothing.

I could feel my blood burning when he massaged my buttocks and upper thighs. I was naked, but he was still massaging every inch of my body.

He flipped me onto my back. I flushed and cupped my groin in my hands. He ignored me and started massaging my chest and upper arms. Blood had rushed to my groin in a rush, and despite how sore I was, I wanted him inside me. I wanted it badly. I wanted him badly, like a man working in the hot sun wants cold water. I wanted him to touch me everywhere, in all of the right ways, to feel his rough hard body against mine.

Haagan sensed the change, and he nudged my hands away. "Don't worry Kitten..." He purred. "We have all night..."

I jumped and gave a little frightened shriek when someone knocked briskly on the door. In a moment I was curled into a clumsy ball with the coverlet clasped to my chest. My body ached in a good slow way from the massage.

"We're here with your meals and water Sir." A girl called from the door. Haagan looked at me, cowering under the blanket, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Oh you poor thing..." He muttered, trying not to laugh. I smiled weakly, my heart still pounding.

Haagan got up to answer the door. He took a basin and a steaming pitcher of water, and then he took a tray. He thanked the girls, who were both peering curiously at me where I was huddled on the bed. I was utterly mortified, even more so when they giggled.

Haagan chuckled when the door was closed. "Oh Kitten, no need to be ashamed. What we share is perfectly legal and normal... If considered a bit outlandish by a few individuals. It's only in your land that it's an abomination."

"Now come here for supper, they laid out a nice spread for us."

I got up with the coverlet wrapped around me. It was warm in here, and my feet sank into the simple carpet of combed brown wool.

A wedge of hard mild cheese and a thick end of soft white bread, supplemented with a clay pot of thick pottage. We each had a large tankard of golden mead and half of an onion as well. I let him split the portions, and he gave himself the lions share, but I still was barely able to finish my portion, and I gave him what I couldn't eat.

"Now..." Haagan purred, standing and cracking his knuckles. "Where were we?"

I blushed under his hot gaze and I got up and lay down on the bed, looking up at him hopefully. My body felt hot and tense and excited. He had been more gentle to me during the day, kinder. Would that translate to his attitude in bed?

He got up and let his horsehair vest slide to the floor. His muscular body was lithe and powerful under the loose linen shirt he wore. The laces were undone, so I was able to see a large expanse of his hairy chest. I could see one dark nipple surrounded by his soft dark reddish hair.

He kicked off his heavy boots and stockings. He seemed to enjoy being watched as he stripped. I could feel my cock resting against my thigh like a long hot stone. I flushed and reached for my cock, thinking that he would stop me.

He was dressed in only his loincloth when he pounced on me. I could see his long cock through his loincloth, so hard that a bit of the cloth was damp with his precome. I rolled onto my stomach under him. I shivered submissively as he ground his cloth-covered groin against my ass.

His breath was in my ear. "Lift up your hips a little." He whispered. I moved onto my knees with my upper body still crushed to the mattress.

I let out a muffled cry of pleasure as he reached around and cradled my throbbing cock in his hands. His fingers were rough and deliciously pleasurable on the thin sensitive skin of my cock. I cried out and squirmed when he rubbed one fingertip in circles at the very tip of my dick.

His hand disappeared and I whimpered with disappointment, but then his fingers were near my mouth, pressing through my lips. I sucked on his fingertips, and I tasted the clear earthy taste of myself. Precome coated his fingertips.

"You get so hot Kitten... You're so ready for me..." I mewed softly with arousal. His words were low and rough.

His loincloth was suddenly gone, and I could feel his hot thick cock rubbing between my buttocks.




The Slave Boy 02



"No!" I whimpered frantically. "Not... Not without..."

He growled and bit the back of my neck gently. "Don't worry." He panted. His fingers teased my hole, slick with oil from the little leather flask. He was able to shove two fingers in right away, with only a little pain. I had loosened up for him in the last two days.

"So ready." Haagan snarled. "I'm going to fuck you good and hard Aro."

I moaned and thrust my hips back, wanting to be penetrated deeply by his thick hot fingers. I wanted him inside me. The three fingers stretching me wasn't enough. It needed to be him. I was sore as hell, but I wanted him, I NEEDED him inside me.

He grasped my hips hard and suddenly his fat slick cock was splitting me in two. I muffled my shocked scream of pain by biting down hard on the sheets. I let out a loud "MMHMMHHM" into the bedding and tears streamed down my cheeks, but at the same time the intense pain created the most intense kind of pleasure, it felt like fire was going through me, licking my insides and creating burning coals around my cock and asshole.

He grabbed my shoulders and swore and fucked me in long slow strokes, withdrawing so that the tip of his cock rested on the spasming ring of my anus, and then plunging in slowly while I let out an agonized whine of pleasure, my eyes rolling back into my head from the ecstasy and pain.

The best thing? It didn't stop.

As we went on, I didn't get numb, the pain never outweighed the pleasure. He flipped me over onto my back at one point and then I yelped in pleasure as his cock ground against my sweet spot in a new and pleasurable way. It was amazing to feel his rough hot chest against mine, and to feel his rough mouth on my mouth, and to have his hand flogging my throbbing member.

Then he moved me on my side and lifted up one of my legs over his elbow and fucked me from the side, slathering a quick palmful of oil on his cock. The lubricant was well-appreciated, and I found myself whimpering with need whenever he drew his cock out of me to plunge it back in all of the way.

"Squeal for me Kitten." He gasped, moving his hips in several quick deep strokes that made me writhe with pleasure. "Let me know how you feel!"

His body was slick with sweat, and so was mine. We were soaking the sheets, moving together in a slippery way. His body was so hot, so rough.

For the final round, he got up and I moved back on my hands and knees, panting and whimpering. He was moving slower, his cock jutting out in front of him like the prow of a ship. He moved behind me, stroking my sides and back with his hot calloused hands. He rubbed his oily cock up and down my crack, tormenting me. I tried to move my hips back when the tip of his member brushed my hole, but his cock just slipped away.

"Do you want this?" Haagan whispered, slapping the tip against my buttock. "Do you want this inside of you Aro?" His breathing was ragged, his voice slurred with need.

"Please! I begged. "Please, fuck me Haagan! Please! I need it! Please fuck me with your big cock!" I didn't care how I sounded, I was delirious with need.

And he gave me what I wanted. I screamed into the bedding as he thrust in all the way to the root. He crushed me down to the bed, roughly biting my shoulder and pounding his hips into me. My cock ground against the bedding and I wailed with pleasure. I was on the edge, the razors edge of absolute pleasure and pain.

Then he grabbed my shoulders and sunk three deep hard strokes into my ass, gasping and growling under his breath. I could feel his hot creamy release coating the inside of my ass, soothing the pain and making his entry slicker and smoother. His cock was still hard, and he kept fucking my ass, but more gently, grinding against my sweet spot.

I was moaning feebly with need, trying to grind my hips against the bedding. Come was leaking out of my asshole each time he plunged inside. He twirled me around without ever removing his hard slick cock.

He kissed me hard and stroked my cock with his free hand, making me moan and squirm with need. He withdrew slowly, rubbing me deftly, squeezing my red throbbing member that I was whimpering and writhing with the effort of not screaming with pleasure.

Then, he moved his hand in a quick twisting motion up and down my slick cock at the same time as plunging his thick cock deep into my ass with a loud grunt.

My back arched into a perfect semicircle, my arms looped around the back of his neck. I screamed shockingly loud as my entire body convulsed with the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced. I could feel hot droplets of come landing on my stomach, and chest. My eyes were shut tight, and for a sheer moment, the world went out of focus, I nearly passed out with the strength of it. It went beyond pleasure, beyond experience.

When I opened my eyes, Haagan was resting against me, on top of me. His body was heavy, ropy, lean, slick with sweat and come. He was so warm, heat radiated from his slick hairy chest to me. I could see jewels of sweat glittering in his shaven scalp, between short bristly strands of dark reddish hair. My cheek was against his hair, I could feel the rough and the damp of it. His breath was hot and heavy in my ear. His cock was softening in my ass.

My legs had relaxed, but I moved them again, clenched them in a knot around his thighs, holding his hips closer to me, deeper inside me. I closed my eyes, feeling his heavy strong body resting on top of me. I felt strangely peaceful, and possessive. The possessive feeling was new. I had always been sharply aware of my status. I belonged to other people, they didn't belong to me. But now I felt as if he were mine. I cradled him to me, and he was mine. The only thing that was truly mine.

Then the door opened, the innkeeper poking his round face inside. "Heard some screaming, is anything--Ah..."

I was too tired to yelp with surprise or try to hide. I just turned my face away, feeling like the heat from my cheeks would set fire to the bedsheets.

Haagan lifted his upper body, and I shivered as a draft cooled my wet smooth chest. He grinned at the innkeeper. "No problem here... sorry if we disturbed anyone."

The innkeeper bobbed his head, his eyebrows so high that they nearly disappeared into his receding hairline. He left and shut the door.

Haagan got up and I let out a little mew of loss when his cock slid out of my ass. I could feel come and oil leaking from me onto the sheets. He grabbed a cloth and wiped his sweaty body down in the middle of the room, swabbing his groin for semen and oil.

Then it was my turn. His hands were brisk and thorough down my body. I didn't know what to say, so I just let him rub me down like an exhausted horse. I groaned when he pulled me up. I swayed slightly, weakened by our rough sex. He chuckled, and then bathed me with water from the basin, gently scrubbing my chest and back and buttocks and legs. After wetting all of my skin, he paid careful attention to my groin and crack. He wiped the areas clean with warm water and soap.

He cleaned himself in a similar way, and then we got on the bed, pulling the cover over the both of us. His hands were gentle, and he chuckled softly when I leaned into his arm.

I just didn't know my place. I felt very vulnerable. Was I his lover? His slave? Was I allowed to gesture how I felt? To make a move? To say how I felt?

"Maste--I mean, Haagan?"

He rubbed my sweaty hair roughly, making my hair an unruly nest. "What is it Kitten?"

I flushed and looked down. I couldn't look him in the eye. It was too alien. "I... I... Thank you Haagan, that felt very... I loved it."

Suddenly I was scooped into his arms. My face against his chest, inhaling the thick masculine scent of him, the clean sweat of hard work and sex, mixed with soap. I went limp, loving it, loving him.

"It just gets better and better Aro... Doesn't it? When you shot off between us, that was one of the sexiest things I've ever seen, and that yelp! They could probably hear it in Whitthorne..."

His jovial tone faded, and he embraced me tighter to him. "Thank you Aro. You are a beautiful sexy boy..., and I wouldn't give you up for anything."

That last thing brought sudden surprised tears to my eyes. I buried my face in his chest, hoping he wouldn't feel or see them.

"Alright Aro, lets get to sleep, we have another hard day of riding tomorrow."

I groaned theatrically, my heart still swollen and throbbing with hopeful love. I fell asleep spooned in his warm arms.

---

I woke up alone in bed. Haagan was fully dressed, and gently shaking my shoulder.

I stirred and started to push back the covers, but he rested his hand on my chest. "Nah... you can rest for a while... There are some things I need to go and get rid of. Before I came to Strong-Hammer's keep I was out on a raid. I need to see if any of the shopkeepers or richer folk want some of my treasure. While I'm out, I might get you something.

He was smiling. His pale eyes were still like ice, but softened, loving. "Just woke you up to say that I'll be gone for an hour or two. When I get back, we'll be on our way."

He kissed me on the forehead and left the room. I was so sleepy still. I rolled into the spot on the bed that was still warm from his body. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

This was so strange. Years of huddling in piles of old rotten straw, under lice-ridden blankets, and now I was resting on a heightened bed-frame on sheepskin and fresh hay. I had a pillow stuffed with feathers under my cheek. I was covered with heavy wool blankets. I felt like I was resting on a cloud.

However, it was impossible to sleep. He was gone. I felt so directionless, so lost without him. I was so uneasy. I tossed and turned on the luxurious bed, before finally deciding to get dressed after all. I didn't want to leave the room, but I was too antsy to sleep.

I had just gotten my loincloth on when the door creaked open. I turned around hopefully, surprised that he was back already, but it was the innkeeper in the door. I felt my cheeks turn a flaming red and I snatched at one of the wool covers, holding it around my body. He had seen me underneath Haagan, heard me screaming with pleasure.

"Um... I'm s-sorry, Haagan j-just left, I think he's at the m-market..."

I was looking down at my feet, so when he lunged forward and backhanded me roughly across the face I wasn't expecting it. I landed on the floor with a painful thud, a confused bawl of pain and surprise hiccuping from my bleeding lips. I looked up at him, startled and confused and sick to my stomach.

He had a bored hungry expression on his face. "You are a lazy insolent little bastard aren't you? You are to refer to your Owner as 'Sir' or 'Master' at all times, as well as any of your betters. Get up here."

He bent down and dragged me up by my upper arm. I could see the door, the key was in the keyhole, he had locked it from the inside. I was just so dazed from the rough blow that I didn't struggle at all.

"If you bite me, I'll whip your scrawny back till I see bone."

He yanked down his pants and his thick cock was in my face, rubbing against my cheek. I whimpered and tried to pull away, but he tangled his hand in my hair and yanked me back. I yelped piteously, and tried to push him away with my hands. I never would have fought before Haagan, but I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to submit to him, not when Haagan was my Master.

He stopped trying to shove his cock in my mouth. He knelt and yanked my hair so I was crying out with pain, cowering on my side on the floor. He twisted me around and he started hitting me with short precise blows. He targeted my kidneys, and then my stomach, and then he hit me twice in the crotch with his hard powerful fist.

When he yanked me back up onto my knees I was a limp rag. Tears streamed from my eyes and my mouth was open in a silent sob of agony. My body was ringing with sudden and horrendous pain. My stomach felt like liquid lead, and my balls felt swollen and bruised and white-hot with pain. The pain sunk tentacles into my thighs and belly. My scalp was on fire, he was still holding me up by my hair.

His cock was in my face, short and thick and red. He shoved it in my open mouth. I did my best not to scrape him with my teeth. His cock was hot and dirty, the head was crusted with sour dirty come. I gagged from how disgusting his cock was, and then I gagged as he lunged, trying to bury his cock in my throat.

I cried brokenly as he shoved his cock in and out of my mouth. I was betraying Haagan. I felt so filthy. I tried to turn away.

"St-Stop!" I moaned. Feebly turning my head away from him, struggling weakly. He bent down again, and I shrank away, sobbing with fear and pain. His fist crashed into my vulnerable stomach so hard that stars danced in front of my eyes. I vomited on the floor. I had never been beaten like this. Punished, whipped, carelessly kicked aside, but never this vicious kind of assault.

He dragged me up by my hair and jammed his cock back into my mouth, grunting low in his throat as he impaled my mouth on his member. Spit and bile dribbled down my chin. Tears and snot ran down my face. I couldn't breathe, my nose was clogged from crying and his cock never gave me a break.

My vision was going wobbly by the time he finally shot his seed.

"Fuck." He sighed, dropping me to the floor, where I curled up, naked but for my loincloth. I retched, and vomited bile. The smell made me feel even sicker, and I tried to crawl away from the small pool of it.

The innkeeper stood over me. "Idiot." He growled. "This is our little secret, whoreson. You can tell your master, but he wont believe you. No one will believe you."

He left and closed the door behind him.

I moaned weakly in the back of my throat. I curled up tight, cradling my throbbing groin in my hands and sobbing. I felt so violated, so hurt.

Haagan... Haagan would be back soon. Raw panic pushed aside the feelings of fear and pain and bewilderment. He couldn't know... If he knew... I cringed and moaned deep in my throat.

I ran to the basin and cleaned up my face and cleaned the vomit from the floor, scooping it into the basin and scrubbing the floor. I sobbed while I cleaned, unable to stop the weak crying.

I dumped the bucket of dirty water into the gutter outside the shuttered window. The frosty air stung my chest and face. I put down the basin, and the door opened behind me.

I jumped with a little shriek, and I turned around. Haagan was in the doorway, beaming. I felt something inside me break, and I ran into his arms, clinging to him as tight as I could.

I could feel his body change, become tense with worry and anger. "Aro... Kitten, what happened to you..."

He was touching my back, touching the swollen bruised patches where the innkeeper had brutally beaten me. I sobbed into his chest, into the softness of his red and black cloak. I managed to choke out three words.

"The... I-Innkeeper...h-h-he..." His arms tightened on me, to the point of pain, but I relished the pain. Punishment for not fighting harder.

"I'm sorry!" I whimpered. "I d-d-didn't want to, I s-swear!" I choked on my words and clung to him, shivering and crying. His arms loosened from the painful grip on my back. I slid to my knees, clinging to him still, pressing my cheek into his cloak. 

"Let go of me and put your clothes on."

I flinched away from him, tears dripping down my cheeks, stinging my cut lip. I didn't dare look at his face.

"Yes Haa-- Yes Master." I whispered.

I stared at his boots, the worn creased cowhide crusted with snow, the top lined with sheepskin. He dropped a heavy leather bag and a bundle of cloth. He left the inn room in a swirl of cloth and a dusting of snow. I flinched as the door slammed shut.

I wobbled to my feet. My mouth tasted sour and dry and rough, but I didn't have any water. I packed our few belongings into the leather bag and pulled on my clothes as fast as I could, longing to cover up my shameful violated skin.

I sat in the chair, the bag on my lap, looking down at my callused hands and trying not to cry. He had been mine. I had held Haagan, and he had belonged to me, but now everything was wrong. I was so dirty.

I started to feel numb. It was as if over the last two days, Haagan had woken me from a stupor, made me feel alive, but now I was numb.

I flinched when the door opened. I stood with the heavy leather bag hugged to my chest and tears in my eyes.

"We have to leave now." Haagan choked. He sounded so angry. I flinched and looked up, and I was so shocked that the bag fell from my benumbed hands.

He was out of breath, leaning on the edge of the door. His hands were streaked with blood. He had a streak of it on his forehead where he had scrubbed the sweat from his forehead. His eyes were like disks of raw ice, but his fury abated when he saw me. 

"Aro, Kitten... We have to leave now. Come with me, I'll carry that."

He snatched the leather bag from the floor and hooked his blood-smeared hand around the crook of my elbow. I felt so numb, but my insides had melted the moment he called me 'Kitten' again. I followed him as fast as I could, even though my legs felt like jelly.

I nearly fell down the stairs. When we got to the main room I could see the serving girls crowded in the corner around the innkeeper, fussing over him. His face was patched and swollen and blood was sheeting down his face from a split in one eyebrow. My stomach felt wobbly and twisted up. I looked away, flushed and confused as Haagan led me through the tavern. Savage pleasure at his pain mixed uncomfortably with the terror that we were in trouble. Haagan certainly wasn't taking his time getting out of here.

Which was why I was struck dumb with fear when Haagan halted, and walked right up to the innkeeper, dragging me with him.

"M-Master!" I whimpered, trying to drag my heels. The serving girls sprang away from their master, their faces twisted with the familiar expression of fear that I knew so well. The fear that your master would take out his personal pain on his slaves.

Haagan stood over the innkeeper. I could see his swollen welted face, he had lost a tooth and blood was leaking from his mouth. The innkeeper tensed in his chair, his hand dropping to his belt, his eyes shifting like a cornered animal.

"You're lucky I didn't kill you, you fat bastard. Here's the room fare." He spat at the innkeeper's face, and Haagan had this grim expression of satisfaction when the innkeeper flinched away.

Haagan was furious. He was acting cool and collected, but I could feel his muscles tense and tremble, I could see the murderous fury behind his cool eyes. He turned on his heel, and I yelped as I nearly fell on my face, dragged behind him.

I jogged to keep up with his angry lope. My body ached with every step. My bruised well-fucked ass was jolted with every step, and my new bruises stung freshly. Tears swam in my eyes by the time we got to the stable where Haagan's ponies were boarded.

The horses were skittish around Haagan, he was still so angry. He was unstable. He had finally let go of me, and I was hugging the supplies to my chest, shrinking into a corner while tried to saddle the fidgety roan, swearing under his breath. I didn't dare cry. I didn't want to push him over the edge. I knew what he was capable of.

I flinched and let out a frightened bleat as he snarled something under his breath and started punching one of the thick wooden support posts. He was wearing his padded armored gloves. The ones with metal plates over the padded knuckles. I watched in stupid petrified awe as he whaled on the post, the wood splintering and cracking under his blows.

The horses seemed just as awed by the display, and they quieted, stock-still with their ears flat against their shaggy heads.




The Slave Boy 02



I slowly slid down the wall, hugging the supplies to my chest. I couldn't breathe. Air was coming to me in frightened little sips.

Haagan slowed and halted, breathing heavily and rubbing his hands slowly. He glanced over and saw the wary horses. He stood there with his bloody gloved fists held together, breathing heavily, he looked down at me, and it was like he saw me for the first time.

"Aro..." He panted.

"Y-Yes?" I breathed.

He walked over and pulled me up by my upper arms. He held me tight to him. I could barely stand, so I found myself going limp, letting him hold me up. I buried my face into the warm softness of his cloak. I could feel a sob building up in my throat like floodwater behind a dam. I held it down, I didn't let it escape.

"Kitten..." He whispered into my ear. "I'm so sorry. No one is going to hurt you ever again."

He said more, but I lost it. I bawled into his chest. I burrowed under his cloak, hid my head. I clung to him. He held me, shushing me gently, stroking my hair.

He eventually broke my grip and helped me onto Abba. He tied the leather bag onto the packhorse, but not before digging into it. He took out the bundle of cloth that I had numbly shoved into the bag. It was a long quilted cloak lined with caribou fur. It was colored a soft bright lemon-yellow. He gave it to me, and I clasped it around my neck and wrapped my shivering body in the amazing warmth.

"Thank you Haagan." I whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He clasped the hand in his, not saying anything, but looking up into my eyes.

---

We stopped when we had gotten far enough from Talrun to stop seeing farms. He hobbled the ponies to the trees, and helped me to dismount.

I didn't have to worry about where we stood. He treated me like something precious. He wouldn't even let me walk by myself, leading me to a knuckle of white stone to sit on. He padded the stone by laying down his padded leather jerkin on the cold surface. He started a fire close to the stone, and asked me over and over if I was warm enough.

The horses pawed snow away from the dried yellow grass to nibble. The fire was warm on my hands and exposed face. Haagan was digging for food in the saddlebags, before cursing roundly.

Somehow, we had forgotten the food bag. The bag hadn't been very full, only some bread and cheese for the last meal before we got to Whitthorne. But it still frustrated Haagan. He walked back to me with empty hands and a scowl.

He stopped about ten feet away and looked down at the snow, frustration written all over his face. "Aro, stop looking at me like that."

I nearly fell off the rock.

He shook his head and sat down next to me. "That's what I mean. I'm not going to hurt you just because I'm angry at that pig-fucker. Or because I forgot the fucking food. Stop looking at me like you're afraid I'm going to bite you."

He put his arm around me, and I melted inside.

"Sorry, Haagan." I whispered. I leaned into him, and his stomach rumbled. I couldn't help myself. I started to laugh. When I saw the puzzled look on his face, I laughed harder, curling up on the rock to hold my aching stomach.

I had never laughed this hard. Not in years. He sat back slightly, watching with a raised eyebrow and a faint quizzical smile. "It's good to hear you laugh." He murmured, putting his hand on the back of my neck. I shivered. I was sensitive there.

"Um... The food doesn't bother me." I murmured, nuzzling into him. "I still feel full from last night." He chuckled, and I flushed when I realized the double-entendre.

"Of course." He purred. "You haven't had a decent meal in years."

Flushing at my own daring, I leaned into him and put my hand tentatively on his thigh. "Um... We don't have any food... But... um... There's something else that I can... that you can feed me." I felt like my blush would set fire to the warm hood of the new cloak.

He took a hold of my wrist and moved it higher. When I felt the bulge of him through his trousers, I felt my own dick twitch in the tight confines of my clothing. He put his other hand under my chin and lifted me up so I could kiss him.

His lips were soft, his beard rough and wiry, his tongue moist and eager. I could feel him taking off his gloves, and then he was pushing his warm hands through the seams of my clothing, under the waistband of my trousers to grasp my swollen throbbing member. I mewled into his hot mouth as I tried to duplicate him.

Instead, he moved me, carefully lifting and lowering me, pushing me so I was on my knees in front of him. My trousers were unlaced and my throbbing cock was free and bobbing in the frigid air. I pulled my shirt down to cover my poor chilly member.

Haagan unlaced his trousers, and I watched mesmerized as his thick cock popped free of it's constraints. I rested my hands on his powerful thighs, and leaned forward, ready to meet his cock like I had the first time I had sucked it. I stuck my tongue out and lapped at the tip, tasting his precome. He groaned softly, and put his hands over mine, pinning my palms to his legs. I opened my mouth wide and slid down on his cock, engulfing as much of it as I could in my mouth.

I choked about halfway down. It wasn't the length that was the problem, though he did have a long cock. It was the width. I could barely get my mouth around him, so it was gratifying when he growled his arousal. I moaned around him. I wanted to be able to get more of him, to conquer him, if that made any sense.

I released his cock for a moment to breathe. I ran my tongue up and down him, lapping up the saliva that had drooled form the corners of my mouth. When I got back on him, he growled and cupped my head in his hands.

He was gentle, but insistent. He pushed my head down on his cock, helping me to open my throat. I gagged and had to back away the first time. I rested my cheek against his thigh for a moment, breathing. He tucked my hair behind my ear and stroked me cheek while I rested.

I tried again with more gusto, and then, somehow, his entire cock was in my throat. My mouth was pressed against his pubic hair and my throat felt full and bruised and ready to burst. Haagan swore softly and bumped his hips, chafing my swollen throat and making me gag.

I pulled off gasping for breath. I didn't stop to rest, I wanted to continue. I bobbed up and down on his cock, reluctant to sink so painfully deep. His skin was so warm. The tender skin was throbbing under my lips.

I drooled on him to lubricate him for my throat. I rubbed my saliva into a slick coat over this hard proud cock, and I lunged down on him, burying him in my throat, tearing past the gag reflex.

He hissed and moved my head up and down. "I'm going to come, Kitten... I'm going to come in your mouth!"

I let out a strangled mew of excitement, right before he came in my mouth. His come was warm and creamy and bitter, filling my mouth in spurts that dribbled over my lips.

He stroked my cheek. I sucked on his softening cock, trying to get all of his creamy come in my mouth. On our first night, he had forced me to swallow it, but now I wanted to. It was just another reminder, another way for me to show my affection for him.

He put his hands on my shoulders and lunged, pushing me under him, on my back on the hard snow, with him over me. But the cloak protected me. The thick warm cloth wrapped my body, and I still felt warm.

Haagan crushed me under him, and kissed me hard, I could feel his hand squirming between us, caressing my aching needful member. I breathed in muffled moans. I explored his hot mouth, my face burning and my body throbbing.

He hesitated. He straddled me, his knees on either side of my hips, his face above mine, his one hand supporting him, and the other stroking me in a way that was slow and tortuous. Since he had lifted himself slightly, the cold air was whispering across my exposed cock in a way that felt exquisite and just short of painful. I tried to lean up and kiss him. Why had he hesitated?

He took his hand off of my cock and I moaned. Instead, he put both hands on my hips and moved down. I sat up, supported by my elbows, gasping and confused, the wind freezing my face and playing with my hair.

Then all of the strength left my body and I went limp with a high-pitched little gasp. He was sucking my cock. My cock was surrounded by hot wet warmth, and his head was bobbing up and down on my cock. I could see his lips, where they made a seal around the long slender shaft of my cock. Then my head was falling back. I couldn't handle the level of sensation. I arched my back, panting, gasping. "Haagan! Haagan! HAAGAN!!"

I spoke his name out loud, tasting it, I rested my hands on his head, careful not to push down. He reached down into my trousers and caressed my testes through the soft wispy hair that grew on them. His rough fingers down there, caressing that tender part of me... it drew me over the edge.

"Haagan, I'm going to... I'm going to..."

Haagan withdrew and stroked my slick cock with his fist. I felt the wind on my wet semi-exposed cock and the shocking sensation made my gasp and pump my hips into the air, slicking his hand and my stomach with droplets of feverishly hot come.

He wiped me with a cloth and tucked me back into my trousers, tying the laces and pulling my shirt down. I waited for him to be finished, and then I looped my hands around the back of his neck and pulled him down so he was on top of me. I hugged him tight to me and wrapped my legs around him. I buried my face in his chest.

He chuckled and gently broke my grip. "I don't do that very often. If I can help it."

I nuzzled against his chest, my heart still pounding. "Thank you. I'm not hungry any more."

He let out a deep belly-laugh and got up, pulling me up with him and brushing the snow from my cloak. He embraced me tight to him, pulling the folds of his red cloak around me. I felt like I was in a small hot fur tent. My head was nuzzled under his chin and I could feel the pulse in his neck. It was so warm.

"We better get moving, we have a ways to go."

I love you. I mouthed the words into his shirt. I didn't have the courage to speak them out loud.

---

Whitthorne was so big. It was surrounded by a massive crumbling wall, but the farms extended far beyond the walls. We were riding around the south wall, and I could see slaves working. I saw a dark-haired woman repairing a leather harness. She bobbed her head to Haagan, and gave me a shy wave. I passed a slave bowed under the weight of a bundle of split wood on his back, but he was trailing behind a Master carrying as much wood, if not more. I saw a gaggle of dark-haired children running around, playing.

"They look so happy." I said, awed.

He pulled back so he was riding side by side. "There are still slaves that suffer like you did, but yes, Boris does treat his chattel horrendously. There are some rules in Whitthorne."

He didn't elaborate. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "You cannot beat a slave with a rod thicker then your thumb, or beat children of less then five winters. A slave that is raped can be compensated. Children younger then twelve cannot be separated from their families. A few others. Do you see that farm, there?"

He was pointing to a farmhouse. In the nature of Nord houses, it was built so a good half of it was underground. The part that rose above the ground was short, barely a few feet taller then I was. The roof was of thick recently-thatched hay. No smoke rose from the thick stone chimney, but there was a large woodpile of fresh-cut wood. The fields around it were covered in snow. I could see a well, and a shed for animals that connected with the house. Other then the fresh-cut wood, the place looked deserted. Only a few token lines of tracks ran through the snow.

"That's our home Kitten. I had one of my neighbors, Nils, cut the wood for me, and set away some supplies for when I returned. We'll put the ponies in the barn, I'll report to the Jarl, and then we can go out and buy the animals and seed for when spring arrives."

My heart felt swollen in my chest. Tears stung in my eyes. The way he was talking... he said 'we', and he was talking about preparing a life for both of us. He saw the tears in my eyes and became concerned. "Aro... What's wrong?"

I wiped the errant tears. "I'm sorry, nothing's wrong." My voice was so choked up. I was the least convincing person in the world. "I'm just... I'm just happy."

He smiled. "I am too, Kitten."

---

He had to help me off of Abba, I was so sore. The shed was made up of two or three corralled spaces, as well as a corner piled high with baled hay. He took a five-tined pitchfork that looked like a clawed hand to scoop down one of the rounded bales. Each bale was a good hundred pounds, and watching the way his muscles flexed made my mouth dry.

He broke up the bale and put some of it into a trough with the ponies. He rubbed each of them down with a practiced hand and I helped to bring the tack inside the farmhouse.

The shed connected to the farmhouse, with only a curtain between the two. The connection to the farmhouse would help keep the animals warm, and their body heat helped to warm the main house.

The main house was cleverly built. The top floor, the one that rested above the surface, was used mainly for storage and workspace. It was better lit, with windows that could be opened. Now they were tightly shuttered against the cold. A narrow stairway went down one wall, and then I was down in the living area.

Haagan didn't light the fire, but he did light an iron lamp. It was a round reservoir with a narrow metal tube rising gracefully from the side. A wick was fed down the metal neck of the lamp and the flame at the end burned higher and brighter and cleaner then candles. I was able to look around my new home.

The bed was a large frame of dead wood with tight flat leather thongs stretched in between. He didn't yet have a mattress on it. The floor was of polished wood, except around the fireplace where Haagan must have searched far and wide to find flat smooth stones to pave it. Resting inside the fireplace was a small stack of dry cut wood, and several pots and pans and an iron cooking spit. He held the lamp up high so I could see the rest.

There was a polished table of excellent craftsmanship, the legs were in rough natural shapes but the surface was polished smooth, and with the grain. The walls were of stones held together with rough mortar. One part of the wall was different, it was covered with strange iron fastenings.

He saw me looking and Haagan smiled. "I can't do it yet, but if the Jarl grants me my wish, that's where I will hang up my armor and sword. Hopefully, they'll stay there forever, gathering dust. But I need them in case another war starts, or if someone attacks Whitthorne."

I shivered and embraced him. "What do you think Kitten? What do you think of your new home?"

I only hugged him tighter. "I love our home."

He kissed the top of my head. "Bundle up warm, we're going to walk to the Jarl's keep."

---

We walked over the drawbridge to get into Whitthorne. The city was built to outlast a siege. There was no moat, as I had pictured. But Haagan told me that each of the entrances had a deep spiked pit and a drawbridge. That way the gates couldn't be forced by a battering ram when the drawbridges were up. Guards in bright green tunics walked over the walls. More guards patrolled the streets.

I was astonished. Some of the buildings in Whitthorne were houses or taverns or shops, but most of them were warehouses.

"The city of Whitthorne hasn't been overrun in centuries. It can hold the entire population for a year if it needs, the warehouses are full of last year's grain. No one with a strong back and half a brain goes hungry in Whitthorne."

The crown of the city was a stone keep. It was low, only two stories tall, but it had a defensible roof and it's own protective wall. It was the second line of defense if Whitthorne was breached.

Once we got to the keep drawbridge, a burly man with a bushy blonde beard came up and gave Haagan a rough bear hug. The man was seven feet tall at least, his mane of hair restrained in braids and rough tangled locks. I waited timidly a few feet away as they greeted each other.

"Hey Branagh, I didn't expect you back from the southland so soon!"

"Or you, you dog! Where have you been, and what are you doing home!"

Haagan snorted. "I've been at the coast, fighting off pirates and legionaries. On my way back, there was a feast at Boris Strong-hammer's. I took one of the poor boys off of his hands. This is Aro, Aro, this bear is my cousin, Branagh."

I bobbed my head. "Hello sir." I whispered, suddenly timid.

Branagh looked confused. He pointed at me and asked. "Wait, is he gonna be your..."

Haagan sighed and nodded, amused.

Branagh's beard crinkled in a huge smile, and the next thing I knew, I couldn't breathe and I was hoisted into the air in a massive bear-hug. He was going to crack my spine.

"Welcome Aro! You're practically part of the family!"

He set me down and I wheezed "Thanks." I couldn't help but smile. It was the first time that someone other then Haagan was treating me kindly. Even if he had nearly crushed me in the process.

"Well, the Jarl is eating with his wife and mistresses right now, but he wont be bothered if it's you. Just need to take your pig-sticker there."

Haagan had left his big iron sword at home, but he always carried a big knife that he called a dirk. I had seen him use it once, it was a long tapering blade, like a triangle, made of steel instead of iron and about a foot long. He untied it from his belt and gave it to Branagh for safekeeping.

"Also gotta check you both, you understand." He shrugged as if to say that he didn't make the rules. Haagan nodded and stood with his legs apart and his arms lifted from his sides. I mimicked him. Branagh felt his arms and sides and inner thighs for a hidden dagger, and then me. I tensed slightly when he touched me, flinching. But he was gentle and matter-of-fact and it was over very quickly.

Haagan clapped Branagh on the shoulder. "You should come with us when I'm done. I'm going to celebrate with some mead and supper at The Warmaiden, and you should be there."

"I'll be there! We have to get little Aro some mead! It will make him grow big and strong, like me!"

I giggled, and he let out a big guffaw of laughter from his gut.

---

The main hall of the keep was high-ceilinged. The Jarl was an older man with dirty greying hair swept back from his face with a bronze circlet embedded with shiny knuckles of obsidian. The keep reminded me uncomfortably of my last home. It was less crowded then it had been at the party, but the room had a good thirty or so people in it, including four harried slave girls. They were well into their meal, and the Jarl was booming with laughter, telling a dirty joke at the top of his lungs. His voice was so slurred that I only caught words here and there, but it was about a 'southland slut' and a 'darkie'. Everyone was laughing.

I flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and shame and anger. I walked right behind Haagan, feeling diminished. He gave me a reassuring smile. I was glad that he wasn't laughing at the joke, that he realized how uncomfortable I was.

The Jarl garbled a punchline and the crowd laughed. I suspected that most of them had no idea what he was saying.

Haagan stepped forward into the main hall, and the Jarl saw him. A stupefied grin spread across his face. "Haagan the Fierce! Back from the shores and in my halls! You, get him a drink you silly wench!"

The girl couldn't have been more then fourteen. Shoved in a tight dress that had been torn at the sleeve. She ran to him with a flagon full of beer, her eyes downcast and full of tears. Haagan declined respectfully.




The Slave Boy 02



"Nay, I just got home. I wanted to see you, and ask to be released from service." I could see how tense his muscles were. The back of his neck was clenched.

Jarl sat back down. The grin on his face was still there, but smaller. "You've been in my service for ten years Haagan... You're a good man. But why do you want to give up this life now? Plenty of treasure, drink, women... Ah, I think I know why now!" His peons laughed uneasily. Haagan's face was like a stone.

"I have been in your service for ten years. I've fought so long, I'm tired of killing and looting and watching men make whores out of captured women. I just want to settle, tend to my farm before the fields go fallow."

The Jarl said nothing, he moved his head to the side slightly, peering at me. "What's that you have behind you, eh? Grown so old and unwilling to fight that you have to buy your sissies?" He laughed.

I flushed and took a step backwards. I was so angry, but at the same time I felt so helpless. I wished that I could sink into the floor. I had to fight back bitter tears.

Haagan twitched slightly. His pride was so strong, but he couldn't lash out at the Jarl like he could at an Innkeeper. Instead of answering, he just said. "I have fought for my Jarl and the Northland long enough. I want to settle."

Some of the tension melted from the room. The Jarl shrugged and took a deep drink of mead. "Have a happy retirement Haagan. It's just hard to believe that the Fierce is retiring from war and glory for cowshit and potatoes. Let's drink to the crazy bastard!"

They lifted their cups, and Haagan inclined his head slightly in a bow. "Thank you, my Jarl." He swiftly turned on his heel and then we were leaving. I had to trot to keep up.

---

The Warmaiden was busy, but clean and well lit. I wasn't the only southlander in here, there were serving girls, a tall bearded cook, and several of the customers had their servants with them. I looked around, and most of them looked content enough.

Branagh was with us, sitting at our table and drinking an astonishing amount of mead. I ate my meat and potatoes, I sipped hot honeyed mead from Haagan's flask, and my face hurt from smiling. I nearly fell off the bench from laughter when Branagh weaved up to a couple of Nords playing music on a drum and a lute. He did a clumsy dance, singing in a slurred voice at the top of his lungs.

I was only taking sips of the drink, but they added up. My cheeks felt hot, and I laughed easy. Haagan looked so good in the flickering candlelight. The musicians started playing a ballad, and one of them was singing in a sweet reedy tenor.

Regardless of the crowd, I scooted closer to Haagan on the bench and leaned against him. I rested my cheek against his warm shoulder and closed my eyes. He put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me close. I could hear his heartbeat.

"There Kitten... I have to get you tipsy more often, if you cuddle like this. Don't get too comfortable, we have to walk home still."

I sighed and cuddled up closer.

---

The ponies neighed softly in greeting. I petted Abba's soft velvet nose and slipped her a piece of carrot that I had taken from my meal at the Warmaiden. I slipped into the main house after Haagan. It was bitterly cold inside the dark walls, no fire had been lit in here since Haagan had left home.

I walked carefully down the stairs, hearing the scrape of flint and steel. I saw a bright flash of sparks in the fireplace. Then a low orange flame. Haagan lit the lamp and the high bright flame from the wick lit the room in a soft wavering bubble of light. He walked up the stairs and came down with a heavy bundle of hides. He went back up the stairs and came back with the half-bale of hay. I helped him to spread the hay on the bed frame, and then cover the cold sweet-smelling straw with some loose wool for padding and a sheepskin to cover it.

The flames were burning, but the house was still frigid. I was still wearing my warm yellow cloak. I was tucking the sheepskin to make it neater when Haagan stepped right behind me and wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his hot breath in my ear. I shivered, and I felt goosebumps raise in hard knobs all over my skin.

"Haagan..." I whispered. I closed my eyes as his hand moved down, squeezing my groin through my trousers. His cheek was rough with stubble against my neck, I could feel his soft lips there on my sensitive skin, then they parted and I whimpered as he bit my neck gently. I could smell him, the strong masculine odor of his sweat. He sucked on the side of my neck. I shivered and had to use all of my strength to stay standing. My cock was hard, throbbing. All he had to do was touch me, and I was ready for him.

His hand moved up from my groin, and slid under my shirt, up across my flat stomach, all the way up to my chest. I moaned and twitched as he pinched my nipples between his fingers. First the left, and then the right, pinching hard enough for me to feel the pain, but pleasure bloomed under his fingers. I twitched like a horse trying to shed flies. I was already short of breath, and all he had done was touch me under my shirt and bite my neck.

"This is our home now Kitten. It's just us. You don't have to worry about holding back." He pinched my nipple again, twisting slightly. My legs weakened and I let out a muffled gasp. "You can cry out Aro... I want to hear you, I want to hear you lose your inhibitions, and I want to hear you moan." He twisted the other one, and this time I let out a shaky moan. It still felt wrong to be so vocal, but he was right. No one could hear us but the ponies.

His voice. He was so dominant, but not in a cruel way. After he twisted my nipples he gently rubbed them, soothing the tiny hurt away. After biting and sucking my neck, he ran his lips down the mark with utmost gentleness.

I couldn't handle it anymore. I slid out of my cloak, letting it slide to the floor. I could feel his lips smiling against my neck. When I tried to take off my vest, he wrapped his big warm hands around my wrists, making living shackles around them.

He bit the edge of my ear before whispering. "Remember what I told you. I'm going to undress my boy personally." I nearly melted with his voice in my ear.

He stood back a step, not releasing my wrists. He stepped around until he was in front of me, shifting his grip slightly so he was holding my hands up in front of me and looking down into my eyes.

His pale ice-eyes had melted, set alight. They were like fire. I was hypnotized as he shed my vest and untied the laces of my shirt. He smiled slightly, crookedly, and ran his thumb down the line of my collarbone. At that touch I realized that I had been holding my breath, and I breathed in, closing my eyes. I felt my cock leak precome into my loincloth. How could he do this to me? He had barely touched me, but every touch made my skin feel so sensitive.

I lifted my arms and he pulled the shirt over my head. I shivered as he ran his hand down my side, resting on my hip. "Kiss me, Kitten." He murmured. I rose up on my toes and pressed my mouth against his. He teased my lips open and sucked my lower lip between his teeth, gently chewing at it until the skin felt tender and I tugged it away. I tugged at his shirt laces between us. I couldn't bear this teasing. I wanted to touch him, touch him everywhere. I wanted him inside me.

"Please Haagan." I whispered. My words were muffled, crushed against his lips. "Please."

"Please what?" He growled. I could feel his erection, strong and thick and hard, pressing against mine through layers of cloth.

My eyes stung. "Please touch me." I whispered.

"Where?"

I bit his lip. "Here." I took his hand from my hip and pressed it against my groin. He flattened his palm, and then squeezed, cupping my groin in his strong hand. He unclasped and tugged the cord fastened my trousers. He tugged the knot open and reached inside. I mewed and thrust my hips as he squeezed my cock, rubbing slowly, moving with the foreskin.

I trembled at the touch of his strong hand. "What do you want Kitten? Just tell me."

He tugged the laces of my trousers looser and pushed them down slightly, giving himself unrestricted access to my cock. He stroked faster, in long strokes that pulled my foreskin back from the head all the way and then pulled it forward until the swollen shiny head of my cock was hidden in a cone of soft wrinkled skin.

I couldn't help feeling embarrassed. My cheeks flushed bright red, and I had to stand on my toes and whisper it into his ear.

"Please fuck me Haagan. Like you did the first time."

He bit the other side of my neck, I whimpered as he sucked hard, making a soft grunting sound of pleasure and excitement. He loosened his grip and we stepped apart. He still had his hand resting, curled loosely around my cock. I made a motion towards the bed.

"No." He murmured, putting his hand on my shoulder. He led me to the fireplace. He had laid a bear fur rug in front of the carpet. The fur was black and coarse with all four legs and a suggestion of a head. The claws had been removed.

I could feel the pressure on my shoulder, and I obeyed it. I got onto my hands and knees on the bear fur. I felt the struggling warmth of the fire wash over my naked torso. I faced the fire, feeling the heat on my face, shivering.

Haagan knelt behind me and tugged my trousers down. He tugged them off of my legs and got rid of the loincloth with a quick yank that broke the string.

I lowered my chest to the fur, I pressed my cheek against the roughness so I could look up and back at him, and feel the heat of the fire on my back. He was stripping. I could see his long powerful torso, covered by the pelt of reddish fur. He had the flask of oil, he was uncorking it, wetting his fingers.

He stroked the small of my back with one hand, pressing slightly so I arched my back to present my ass even further. With his other hand he pressed his oily fingers between my buttocks. I gasped softly when his fingers pushed deep inside me. It hurt a little, but at least I was finally softening up.

He put his hands on my hips and I screamed into the carpet as he penetrated me. The thick slick helmet of his cock pried me open, sunk in deep. I could feel him opening me up.

He kept one hand on my hip, and the other slid down to make a fist between my shoulder blades. I spread my legs further and arched my back to try and open my ass for him. I moaned as he bumped his hips, splitting me in two.

"Please... Go slow..." I whispered. Tears were beading in my eyes. It hurt so bad, I wanted more, but he needed to slow down.

His fist opened on my back, stroking my skin. With his other hand he reached for the flask to pour more oil on his cock. "Shh... Shh..." He purred. I shuddered as he fucked me shallowly. The oil smoothed the fucking, made me feel better. I was starting to feel warm, feel the warmth down in my testes and ass and throbbing cock.

He slid all the way home with a grunt from him and a gasping cry from me. He leaned forward, curling his body over mine, so his chest was against my back and his chin hooked over my shoulder and his arms held me tight to him. I was completely full, to the point of pain.

"Breathe Kitten." Haagan whispered. He reached around and stroked my cock. The warm feeling made me shudder and relax. I started to pant.

He pulled out slightly. His hips started to pound in and out. I gasped as his cock throbbed against my sweet spot over and over. I was relaxing, I was able to let my muscles go lax, to loosen up.

He took hold of my hips and started going faster and harder. I let out a moan with every stroke.

"Don't hold back Kitten." He growled. "Cry out. You can be as loud as you need."

I screamed. I yelped my pleasure to our new house, and I heard the ponies whicker over our heads. Then I was aware of very little, I was awash in the pure throbbing sensation of pleasure. With his cock slamming into my sweet spot and his hand rubbing my cock and his teeth scraping my sensitive neck. I lost myself. I yelped and cried out over and over.

Sometime in the red haze, he thrust hard and I could feel my insides coated with his creamy semen. He turned me onto my back, and I shivered, my eyes glassy, reaching for him.

"Please Haagan." I begged, resting my hand on his shoulder. "Please... Please..."

Haagan panted, and wrapped his hand around my swollen precome-slick cock. He stroked twice and it was enough for me to come all over myself and him.

I was exhausted. I turned onto my side facing the fire, feeling my sweaty skin shiver in the cold air. The fire felt dry and warm on my face and shoulders.

Haagan got up and when he came back he had my shirt in his hands. He used my shirt to wipe us clean. To wipe the sweat and come and oil from our bodies. He gently scooped me up in his arms and set me down on the sheepskin bed.

I closed my eyes for a moment, shivering on top of the bed. He came back with a huge colorful blanket of soft woven wool. The pattern of yellow and red and black repeated in a zigzag pattern down the long thick blanket. He draped the blanket over my shivering naked body, and crawled under with me.

The blanket was thick and soft against my skin. Haagan was hard and warm and alive. He embraced me to him. I turned so I faced him, and I pressed my face against the center of his chest. I could smell his thick manly smell, his musk. His chest hair was thick and rough, like the bearskin rug.

He chuckled and ran a gentle hand up the curve of my neck into my hair, where he tangled his fingers. "You've gotten more vocal Kitten... I loved hearing your voice."

I moved closer, wrapping my arm around his side so I could press my face harder into his chest. I needed to feel his skin against my skin. I felt adrift, and he was what kept me tethered to the earth after my orgasm had rocketed me into space.

"I love you." I whispered. I felt a little sick. I was afraid of his answer. Afraid that he would tell me that I was just a slave to him.

He tangled his fingers in my hair and moved my head back so I was looking up into his eyes. "I remember finding you four years ago." He said quietly. "You were so small back then. You were very pretty, but you were so young. I didn't want to hurt someone so young. I didn't think you remembered."

I felt a fluttering sensation in my chest. "Remember what?"

"That I found you, and that I sent you to that horrible place. I figured that he would treat his slaves like we treated them. And then I came here four years later to find you rake-thin and covered in bruises and cowering from me like a frightened dog." He ran his fingers across my cheek, touching the bruise that the innkeeper had given me. "Will you ever forgive me?"

I huddled closer to him, if that was possible. My tears ran into his matted chest hair. "I don't remember much about what happened in the ship. The ship that brought me here. But I remember sometimes seeing the sun. I was very sick, but I remember someone giving me soup and protecting me from the other sailors. It didn't make sense, so I always thought that it was a dream brought on by fever."

He kissed my forehead. "I'm glad you remember. I remember going down to the hold, and I saw the skinny little kid that I had taken from the bakery. You were delirious, covered in cold sweat, and whenever I fed you, others stole your food. I took you with me to the deck and fed you."

"You saved my life." I whispered, pressing my face into his chest.

He lifted my face up so he could kiss me. "I love you Aro. I'm never going to let anyone hurt you ever again. If you hunger, I'll feed you. If you are ill, I'll nurse you. I will protect you all of your days, and I will not part you until death takes us."

I recognized a paraphrased version of their wedding vows, and tears streamed down my face. Tears of joy. He kissed them away, tenderly. He held me close as I trembled, wordless and unable to speak.

He seemed to understand. He stroked my hair. He kissed the top of my head, and he cradled me against his chest, pressed my ear to his core, so I could hear the tha-dump, tha-dump of his heart. So I could feel the minute pressure of it against my smooth cheek.

Never before had I been so close to another human being.

As we drifted off to sleep, I was smiling. Now... Now was when my life started.