Sex Slave Ch. 05

Sex Slave – 5: Ceci

This is a copyrighted work of fiction. All rights reserved.

All characters engaged in sex in this story are at least eighteen years of age.

Many thanks to Lin Hall and nomoretears00, for their encouragement and for catching all those mistakes that I didn't.

****

Rees's sanity hung by a thread. After seven months of enslavement and torture, mostly mental but also physical, he was staring down the edge of that deep abyss of madness.

In their last session, Master Rim had pushed him too far.

He couldn't focus on anything. Fortunately his work didn't require much mental acuity. But sometimes he had trouble realizing that he was being spoken to, and that was a problem. He was engulfed in a world of darkness and terror, and he couldn't seem to find his way out.

Keven was worried about his friend. Rees had been returned to the slave pens with no outward sign of abuse, but his anguish was apparent. Keven tried to help him, to draw him out and get him to describe what had happened, but Rees refused to talk about it.

Rees convinced himself that he didn't want anyone else to have to bear those memories, even second-hand. And he sure as hell didn't want to put himself through the torture of describing what had been done to him. But the true reason he couldn't talk about it, was that he was deeply ashamed.

All he would say when Keven pressed him was, "It was bad, Kev. Bad." And sometimes he would fight back tears.

Once Keven laid a hand on his arm to comfort him, but Rees jerked back as if he'd been burned. Keven did not try to touch him again.

The day after he returned to the slave pens, he was pulled out into a small room and measured—arms, legs, neck, chest and feet.This is ominous,Rees thought. He tried not to imagine what kind of torture required measurements.

When he was returned to the pens, at Keven's urging, he described the measuring process, along with his great trepidation about what it meant.

Keven started to laugh but stopped abruptly when he saw the expression on his friend's face.

"I'm sorry, Rees. Haven't you ever been measured by a tailor before?" Keven managed to hide his mirth. Rees had every reason to be afraid—not of a tailor perhaps—but clearly he had been badly abused and threatened with more.

"A tailor? No. I haven't," and because he was embarrassed, he added rather snidely, "My family's not rich like yours."

In the early evening of the third day after his return, the summons Rees had been dreading came.

He was brought to a salon of sorts where he was pampered and primped beyond anything he could possibly have imagined. It was a good thing there were attendants to help, because he would have had no idea what to do with most of the products and equipment, and even the clothing was far more complicated than anything he had ever worn. He was uncomfortable but not truly frightened at the salon. He realized he was just being prepared for what was to come.

Many years later, when he was cajoled into telling tales of the time he spent as a slave, he enjoyed making the salon visit the height of his torture. The real tortures he endured as a slave remained known only to a few.

Rees understood that he was being primed to be a birthday present for a friend of his master. He was to do whatever his master's friend wanted and pretend he enjoyed it. Convincingly.

Rees's brief encounter with gay male sex had been almost the worst experience of his life. Watching AnnaLynn be tortured had been even more horrible. Both events had been worse than the savage whipping he had received from Master Rim at their first meeting.

Rees shuddered with the memory of how painful and disgusting his rape had been. He was guilt-ridden and ashamed of his participation, even though he clearly had not had a choice.

Rees knew now that he would do anything to please his master. He was Master Rim's slave. He had no pride. He had been reduced to a groveling, gibbering tool to be used for his master's pleasure, whatever that happened to be.

If he didn't please the birthday man, Master Rim had promised him a fate worse than death—had described that fate in detail for Rees. Rees twitched. His mind teetered on the edge.

"Slave! Slave!" One of the attendants waved a hand in his face. Rees startled and looked up, his heart lurching painfully.

"You're finished. It's time to go."

Rees stood up slowly. His mind searched desperately for a way out ... for something he could do to avoid this upcoming ordeal. The hooded choke-chain was dropped over his head, and his spirit shriveled. It was hopeless.

He was dressed in several layers of extremely fine, but uncomfortable clothing. His burgundy silk doublet had sleeves which puffed ridiculously at his shoulders. It was heavily padded in the shoulders as well, although Rees did not need anything to make his huge shoulders look bigger. It was also very constrictive around the waist. The sleeves split down the arms to show the white embroidered linen shirt beneath it.

A pair of hose in dark blue laced to the inside of the doublet but did not completely hide the short, tight, linen breeches underneath. The top layer was a knee-length gown in dark blue velvet. It belted at the waist with an intricately tooled leather belt. The bell sleeves were voluminous, an extra cape-like layer of fabric hung from each shoulder, and all of the edges were trimmed in white ermine.

As he was escorted deep within the estate, the tight, pointed-toed shoes pinched his feet. He was used to going barefoot.

As he walked his fear increased, although he would not have believed that possible. By the time the slave handlers halted him and removed his hooded choke-chain, he was so terrified, he was non-functional. He stood very still and stared straight ahead, barely realizing that a massive, intricately-carved, mahogany door was before him.

The handlers, who were not ones Rees recognized, seemed nervous about letting him loose. One of the attendants from the salon had accompanied them. The attendant placed a ridiculous, floppy, burgundy velvet hat on his head and spent some time adjusting it and fussing over Rees's short blonde curls. Pressing a magnificent bouquet of fragrant purple flowers into Rees's hands, he said, "a birthday present," in halting Endoran.

Rees nodded, barely conscious of the attendant's presence. His hands were trembling so much the flowers shook like a tree branch in a wind storm. A few petals dislodged and drifted to the floor.

The attendant rapped sharply on the door, and fell back a short distance, along with the slave handlers. Rees was aware that the handler with choke-chain held it at the ready.

The door was opened by a middle-aged slave woman. She gasped and took a step back, her startled gaze travelling up Rees's massive chest to finally take in his face. She seemed flustered for a second but quickly recovered.

"Come in, Sir. We've been expecting you." She stepped back and Rees followed her into the room as if in a trance.

His first impression of the room was that it was very purple. It appeared to be a large sitting room. One wall was almost completely hidden by long, deep-purple, velvet curtains that presumably covered large windows. The gray and violet-veined marble floor was cloaked in many rich, violet and lavender rugs. The high ceiling was painted with a scene of buxom ladies in a garden being attended by cherubs. Ornate architectural details on the ceiling and around the doorways were in gilt. Two doors led out of the room on the wall opposite the curtains.

A great marble fireplace dominated the room. Clustered around it were several small couches and a couple of large chairs, all in shades of purple. There was a heavy, mahogany dining table with six chairs. Other matching furniture pieces were scattered functionally around the room. Gold, crystal and more purple accessories completed the décor.

Rees did not notice all of these details at once. His main impression, other than the ubiquitous purple, was of impressive wealth. He desperately sought the man he would be with and prayed that he would at least not be hideous. He did not see a man, however. The only person in the room, other than the slave, was a lovely, diminutive woman.

She had been sitting on one of the couches, and now she rose and moved forward to greet him. She was striking. Her blonde hair was piled high on her head in an intricate array of braids and jewels. Her eyes were violet. Her skin was pale and flawless. The tiny wrinkles around her eyes, and the hint of fullness under her chin told him that she was older than he by at least fifteen years, in her mid- to late-thirties, he guessed. Her mouth was full and pouty.

It was impossible to tell what her figure was like underneath the volumes of lavender fabric that cloaked her from neck to toe, but she was certainly not skinny. She moved with an easy grace. Her face held an expression of pleased wonder as she took him in, her eyes travelling up and down his massive frame for several seconds before finally settling on his face.

Something in the back of Rees's mind told him that he should bow and greet this woman, but this voice did not seem to be connected to the rest of him. He remained frozen, his eyes flicking around the room apprehensively, looking for the man he was expecting to be with.

"Good evening, I am Mistress Cecilia. You may call me Cici," she said in heavily accented Endoran, affecting a graceful curtsy.

Rees's head barely nodded in acknowledgement.

"You must be Rees," she encouraged, smiling at him.

Rees finally managed to break out of his stupor. "Yes," his voice croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, Mistress Cici." He bowed awkwardly.

"Are those for me?" she asked, nodding at the flowers which still shook in Rees's hand.

No, they're for the man whose birthday it is.Rees was confused. He finally stammered, "Is... is it your birthday?"

"Why, yes it is." She beamed at him.

Rees felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his chest.

"You're... you're Master Rim's friend that I'm supposed to... uh...?" He trailed off and felt his face flush with heat.

She let out a throaty laugh. "Yes, I believe so." Her voice was heavy with amusement.

Rees knew he was red to the roots of his hair. He bowed again and held the flowers out to her, speechless.

She took the flowers from him and buried her nose in them for second, breathing in their mixed bouquet.

Addressing the slave-woman, she said, "Maddy, take care of these flowers, and Rees's hat. Then you may go. I shall not need you again before dinner."

Rees suddenly realized he was still wearing his outlandish hat, a major social faux pas. He snatched it off his head and stood awkwardly, waiting for the slave-woman to take it from him.

The slave-woman efficiently gathered the flowers, hung Rees's hat on a hook near the door, curtsied formally to both of them and disappeared through one of the side doors.

Although Rees was immensely relieved that his duties tonight were with this beautiful, older woman rather than with a man, he was still afraid. He didn't think he'd have any problem performing sexually for her, but he was extremely uncomfortable with his surroundings. He was not accustomed to wealth, nor was he educated or refined. He was sure to make any number of grave mistakes. In fact, he already had. He clasped his trembling hands behind his back and tried to smile pleasantly. He prayed that he would not displease this elegant woman.

"Shall we have something to drink?" she asked moving over to the sideboard. "How about some champagne?"

"Yes?" Rees managed to whisper.

He trailed after her to the sideboard, feeling like he should be pouring for her instead of the other way around. He accepted the glass she handed him, but before he could get it to his lips, it slid out from between his fear-dampened fingers and crashed to the floor, smashing into tiny fragments.

Rees was mortified. He froze, unable to do or say anything for several seconds.

Mistress Cici looked at him, briefly startled, then her tinkling laugh filled the air. "All is well Rees. I am not going to have you flogged for breaking a glass."

Her words and actions reassured him somewhat, but his mind was still wrapped around the threat that Master Rim had made to him. Surely this would be cause for her to be less than pleased. He was unable to move, unable to breathe even.

She seemed to take in his distress and her face filled with sympathy. She took his huge hand into her tiny one and led him to one of the couches. "Sit here, sweetie. I will pour you something stronger than champagne. Take some deep breaths."

Rees followed her instructions, breathing deeply and trying to calm his madly beating heart. She pressed a crystal goblet into his hands. It was filled with a thick amber liquid.

"Drink that," she ordered, standing next to him. With him sitting and her standing, she was only slightly taller than he.

He took a hesitant sip. The liquid was like fiery syrup and slid soothingly down his throat. "Brandy?" he asked. He had had brandy before, but it had been much harsher.

"Yes, indeed. It is from Ul Dan. They make the best brandy. Drink up. I think you need it."

Rees dutifully drained his glass. Even though the brandy was smooth, it made his eyes water. He blinked rapidly.

She refilled his glass and edged in beside him on the couch, sitting close. She took one of his hands in both of hers and squeezed.

"Now, tell me about yourself. You are from Endora?"

Rees nodded. The brandy was already having an effect on him. He felt a little light-headed. Or maybe it was just his fear. The shaking in his hands had subsided to a slight tremble. He took a deep breath and filled her in briefly on his background.

He had grown up on a farm in Endora, the third of four boys.

She interrupted him at this point, "There are others like you? Are your brothers just as big and handsome?"

Rees nodded. "My next older brother, Andre, is even taller than I am. My oldest brother Matthew is not as tall, but he's better looking. My younger brother Marc is not as tall yet, but I think he'll get taller, and he's the best looking of all of us."

"Oh my! That's difficult to believe!" She batted her eyes at him.

As he talked of his family, a lump formed in the back of his throat. He missed them terribly.

He took another sip of brandy and continued his story. He had been captured during the war, taken south and sold into slavery. He had been a slave now for seven months. He hung his head. He did not want to tell her about his time as a slave.

She patted his hand. "I'm sorry," she said, and her eyes were full of empathy.

Rees started to relax more. She seemed very nice—not at all vindictive. Perhaps she would not report to Master Rim about the glass and the hat and any other mistakes he had made, of which he was not even aware.

"Now, tell me why you are so terrified," she said.

Rees's breath caught in his throat. He did not even want to think about it. He had to answer her though. He closed his eyes and summoned his courage. She was still patting his hand reassuringly.

Finally he whispered, "M ... Master Rim! He ... he told me ... told me he would...." Rees paused, unable to repeat the hideous threats that Master Rim had made. His heart felt frozen in his chest.

"What did he say, Rees?" she urged, gripping his hand tightly.

He squeezed his eyes even tighter shut as if he could block out the memory. "He told me ... I needed to make you happy," he finally gasped out.

"You don't want to make me happy?" she asked gently.

"Oh, yes!" Rees cried immediately, opening his eyes and looking at her earnestly. "I'm just ... I'm not sure ... I've already made so many mistakes...!" He hung his head again.

"Mistakes? What are you talking about?" she exclaimed. "Rees, look at me," she ordered.

He looked into her eyes. She was all sympathy and concern.

"Rees, I think there is very little you could do that would displease me. I mean, look at you!" Her eyes took in his broad chest and narrow hips before returning to his handsome face. "You would have to work hard at trying to displease me for me to even notice."

Rees believed her and breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"That's better. I want you to put all those things Rim told you out of your head. Randall means well, but sometimes he gets carried away."

Randall? Is she talking about Master Rim? He means well? She's as daft as he is!Rees's fear flared again, and he sought to subdue it. She did not want him to be nervous, so he'd better at least pretend to relax. But his guard was back up, high and tight.

He took a gulp of brandy and breathed out slowly through his nose.

"I know what you need," she said, jumping to her feet. "You need a backrub! May I give you a backrub?"

"Yes, of course." A backrub would be fine. It might take his mind off Master Rim.

"Take off your gown then."

Rees lost no time in removing his belt and the heavy velvet gown. He folded them carefully and laid them aside. He felt a little conspicuous because his doublet was short; his long muscular legs, clad only in blue tights, were on display. Blushing slightly, he sat back down on the couch.

Mistress Cici stepped behind the couch and put her hands on his shoulders. Rees could barely feel her caress beneath all the padding in his doublet.

"This will never do! You'll have to take off that doublet too. It's much too thick."

Rees stood up and complied, fumbling with the laces. She stepped near him and helped. A faint perfume of lavender surrounded her.

With his doublet off, he knew she would be able to see his short, tight breeches, and his cock responded by swelling to a noticeable bulge. He hoped that was what she wanted. There did not seem to be anything he could do to discourage it in any case.

They finished with the laces at the sides, as well as those that held the hose in place. He pulled the doublet off over his head and tossed it aside. He glanced at her shyly and caught her staring at his crotch. His face grew red even as his cock swelled more.

"Sit down, please." She indicated the couch again.

He took a few steps and sat, his untethered hose drifting down his well-muscled thighs. She knelt before him and took off his shoes. He was uncomfortable being waited on by her, but he didn't know how to tell her. He watched as her eyes focused on the bulge in his breeches while she knelt between his legs.

She pulled each of his hose off slowly, her hands caressing the soft blonde hairs on his thighs and calves as she did so. Her pouty lips parted slightly and she gave a small sigh.

He fought back a groan of desire. Her attraction to him was obvious and he felt his body flush with heat as his cock strained against his breeches. Her large violet eyes found his and held them for several long seconds. The intensity of the need he saw in her was as exhilarating as it was frightening.

Why is this beautiful woman, who could bed any man she desired, seducing a slave?Rees was no longer terrified, but he was uneasy. Something about the situation was perturbing. Nevertheless, as he watched her gaze shift back to his crotch, her pupils dilating, her small pink tongue flicking out to lick her lips, a torrid lust consumed him. He drew in a sharp breath.

She glanced up at him and her face flushed. She stood up suddenly, seeming flustered. Her hands smoothed the folds of her skirt restlessly.

She's not nervous, is she?Somehow that thought made his heart beat faster.

She glided around the couch and took up a position behind him. She began to massage his neck and shoulders through his linen shirt with surprisingly strong hands. She seemed to know exactly where his tensions were and how to dispel them. In spite of his trepidation, he began to unwind.