Indentured Pt. 01

Douglas shook his head in disgust. "No wonder they're causing him nightmares. First they say he's not good enough for them and now they say he's unsociable. These people are impossible!"

Grayson agreed. "And their attitude is taking a toll: He eats so little that Mrs. Emerson considers it an insult to her cooking. He looks drawn, I'm sure he is losing weight."

Douglas decided to take Owen back in for a week, though not in his bed. "Have a single-size bed moved into the master bedroom. Tell the staff that I've said he's to sleep there temporarily. And I'll take over giving him the medication."

That night, after listening for half an hour to Owen tossing and turning in the small bed, Douglas called to him. Owen came and stood next to the four-poster, waiting to find out what was wanted.

Douglas raised a side of the blanket. "Just be back there before Mr. Evans arrives in the morning."

Owen eagerly climbed in.

"Turn around" Douglas directed. "We'll sleep the way you and Jimmy did."

Owen turned onto his side. Douglas moved up against his back and put an arm around him. Owen took Douglas's hand, and hugged Douglas's arm to his chest. "Thank you."

A little later, Douglas was dozing when he felt Owen move. "Is anything wrong?" he asked.

Owen turned toward Douglas, smiled drowsily at him, and murmured "Oh no" before turning away again and pulling Douglas's arm tighter around him.

That smile set Douglas's heart aglow. He was developing a real affection for this boy.

Chapter 2 - Revelations

Sunlight was flooding the room when Owen next opened his eyes. Seeing that Douglas was awake and watching him, he said: "Good morning sir. I think I slept all night."

"You woke up once. You smiled at me and went back to sleep."

Douglas was treated to another smile. "When I came to this house I never thought I would be treated this way. I can't thank you enough."

"I like having you here. Now tell me about Jimmy. Is he your older brother?"

"Yes, he's four years older than me."

"Do you have any other brothers, or any sisters?"

"Two brothers besides Jimmy, and two sisters."

"Six children, that's a big family. Are you the youngest?"

"I'm the youngest boy, that's why Papa sent me. He said he needs the bigger boys to help on the farm."

"You told me that at home you doubled up in bed."

"We only have three beds, that's not enough for everybody even with two in a bed. My two oldest brothers sleep on hay in the barn."

"Did you like sleeping with Jimmy?"

"He kept me warm in the winter, and if I had a bad dream he held me until I fell asleep again."

"That was not an unqualified yes. I take it there's something you didn't like."

A pause. "I had to do what he wanted."

"And that was?"

Another pause. "He said not to tell anyone."

"You can tell me."

Owen was uneasy about disobeying his older brother, but he felt that he should not withhold anything from this generous and understanding man. "When his thing got hard I had to let him push it into me."

Overlooking for the moment the juvenile language this eighteen-year-old had used, Douglas asked: "Into your mouth?"

"No, in back. It hurt. I cried the first time. He made me be quiet. He said if Papa finds out he'll be mad at me.

"When did this begin?"

"A few months ago. At first it was only once in a while, then it was almost every day. I was always still sore from the last time but Jimmy said he loves me so much that sometimes he needs to be inside me'"

"Do you love Jimmy?"

"I did when he held me after I had a bad dream. I'm not so sure when he said I had to let him do what he wanted because he's older."

"Being older didn't give him that right. And if your father finds out what Jimmy was doing he'll be angry at Jimmy, not you."

"So I don't have to let him do that anymore when I go back home?"

"No, you don't."

Owen appeared to be intelligent, so his childish language and his meek behavior with his brother was perplexing. To say nothing of his ignorance about sexual matters. Evidently no one had ever had 'The Talk' with him. Maybe everyone was so busy with the keeping up the farm and the house that no one had the time. But why hadn't he learned anything from his peers, however inaccurate? "What do your friends call their thing?"

"I don't have any friends. There's no one near my age on the farms next to ours, and Papa didn't let me go further away than that, he said it would be too dangerous. So I just stayed home."

"What about your brothers, what do they call it?"

"I don't know, they didn't talk to me much. They mostly hang around with each other."

That explained a lot: Having no peers in his life and no interaction with anyone other than his parents and one domineering brother, Owen had in some ways remained at the level of a young child.

Douglas told him the proper terms for the genital organs, and explained about erections and ejaculation. Deciding that this was enough for the present, he sent Owen off to work.

=====

Despite having said that Owen would sleep in the master bedroom for only a week, when the week ended Douglas was unwilling to give up the boy's nightly company just yet. He told Grayson that in view of Owen's degraded health he thought it best to keep Owen with him a while longer. If Grayson had his doubts about the justification, he kept them to himself.

Enclosed in Douglas's sheltering embrace, Owen was now consistently sleeping through the night. Douglas discontinued the Repose.

During Owen's third week in his master's bed, he asked: "Sir, when will you start using me?"

"What?"

"Will you be using me soon?"

"I heard the question. I don't know what it means."

"My brothers said I'll be coming back home a used boy. I asked them what a used boy is, and they laughed. They said I'd find out because I'm good-looking so someone here will use me and it will probably be you because you're not married. One of them walked around with his feet pointing in and said I'd be walking like that. What were they talking about?"

"They were talking about the same thing Jimmy was doing to you."

"Oh. I guess that's why Jimmy didn't laugh."

"It's another thing your brothers were wrong about. I won't do that to you, and if anyone else here tries it I want you to tell Mr. Grayson or me."

=====

One afternoon several weeks later, long before it was time for the daily report Grayson came to Douglas and said: "Sir, I'm afraid we have a situation. The staff are expressing great resentment about your special treatment of the indentured servant."

"They mean his nighttime accommodations."

"Yes."

"Has it affected his work or his attitude? Is he less attentive to his tasks, has he become haughty?"

"No, he works hard and is courteous to everyone."

"Do they think I have in any way interfered with your supervision on his behalf?"

"No sir, their sole objection is that it has been more than a month and you are still having him sleep in the master bedroom."

Douglas stood for a moment, considering the new complaint. Then he said: "Give him a task that will keep him outside for at least an hour, and call the staff together. They're long overdue for some enlightenment."

When Owen had been sent out to tend the gardens and the staff had assembled, Douglas stepped before them. "I'm told that you are indignant about where I have the indentured servant sleep. Well you are the ones who made it necessary. Think of what he is dealing with: Not long past his mid teens and never before having been away from his home or family, he was sent to work among strangers in a big, strange house. He needs support and encouragement. You have instead shown him only coldness and rejection. Your hostility has so dispirited him that his health was rapidly deteriorating. Therefore I decided to provide the support he needs."

Douglas looked around, catching each servant's eye in turn as he continued. "Some of you hold him in contempt because he is so poor. But a child's poverty is the chance result of being born into a poor family, it is not a measure of quality. Character, on the other hand, is a measure of quality. I will tell you about his: When I ordered him to sleep late one day he tried to refuse, saying that he did not want anyone else to have the burden of his chores added to their own. How many of you would have such consideration for people who so mistreat you?"

A few members of the staff shifted awkwardly on their feet.

"He keeps none of his salary for himself; he asked me to apply it all to his father's debt. Now you know something of his generosity, and you know why he does not accompany you to the pub: He has no money."

Many staff members were beginning to look abashed.

"One last fact about the indentured servant's character: He knows that Mr. Grayson and I are both concerned about his health. He could have tried to exploit that concern by asking for special privileges or by working less hard. He has done neither."

Scanning the staff's faces one last time, Douglas closed with: "Under my care, his health has been improving. To further that improvement and keep watch on his progress, I will continue having him spend the night in the master bedroom, where as you know, I had a bed moved in for his use. The arrangement will be maintained as long as I deem it necessary - or desirable."

He stepped away.

Grayson came forward. "Shall I call him back in now?"

"No. I will."

He went out into the gardens. After a short search he spotted Owen, whose strenuous task had caused him to shed his uniform in favor of just his T-shirt and boxer shorts. Both clung to his body, having shrunk from innumerable washings.

Douglas quietly stole to a nearby spot where he could get a closer look. Watching Owen's biceps and back muscles undulate in the tight T as he raked and hoed, Douglas was entranced; and each time he saw Owen bend to pull an obstinate weed he yearned to force a hand up into the back of those shorts and fondle the superb behind that was outlined by the body-hugging garment.

He remained there as long as he dared before summoning Owen back into the house.

Later that day, Grayson called Owen aside and said that in consideration of his fragile health his workload would be reduced. Owen thanked him but declined the reduction, promising to speak up if the work ever proved excessively burdensome.

Grayson also had a message from the staff: "They have learned of your financial situation, and have established a fund for your food and drink if you will be gracious enough to join them at the pub on Saturday evenings. I realize that you might be disinclined to socialize with people who have treated you so badly, but I urge you not to let pride stand in the way of accepting this gesture of apology. They truly regret their reprehensible behavior."

"I don't know what to say."

"All you need say is that you will join them."

"I'll be happy to."

=====

The fund was only the first sign of the transformation brought about by Douglas's lecture: In place of animosity, Owen was now met with friendliness from everyone except for two holdouts, and even they were at least civil to him. The new atmosphere, and Douglas's arm protectively around him each night, gave Owen a sense of wellbeing he had not had since he was a toddler. In addition, his everyday interaction with adults fostered the social development his cloistered early existence had denied him. Day by day he gained maturity.

Now that the staff had turned cordial, there was no longer any legitimate excuse for Douglas to keep Owen with him. However, he was keenly aware of how empty his bed would now feel if Owen were not there. He decided on another delay, telling himself that it would last only until he was sure that Owen's health had been fully restored.

He was certain that when Owen awoke each day the boy must notice his bed companion's early-morning erection nestled in his cleft. Sure enough, one morning Owen said: "When Jimmy has an erection he says the only way to make it go away is to push it into me. Why don't you have to do that?"

"Jimmy doesn't have to do it either, he wants to. And I've already told you I won't do that to you."

Owen was puzzled: He should have been relieved that he was not in any danger of penetration by Douglas, but what he felt was not relief. He didn't know what he was feeling. His master was causing reactions in him that he didn't understand.

Douglas's effect on Owen was manifested more clearly on an evening soon afterward, when Owen entered the master bedroom earlier than usual and found that Douglas had not yet put on a pajama top. Seeing his master bare-chested, Owen felt motion at his crotch, which his pajama pants could not conceal.

Douglas looked at the tenting pants and smiled. "That's quite a compliment."

Owen blushed.

Douglas went without a top from that night on.

Over the weeks that followed, Owen gradually began to understand his feelings, and since Douglas said nothing more about sending him back to his own room, he had a growing sense that his master felt something for him as well. He ached for confirmation, but it remained elusive.

Until the morning he was brought from sleep to foggy awareness by the sensation that he was being lifted. He was still too drowsy to open his eyes, but when the motion stopped he knew that he was now sitting up, an arm was around him, and he was leaning on a smooth, cushiony surface. He purred pleasurably and rubbed his cheek against it.

Then he opened his eyes – and saw that the cushiony surface was a muscular chest. He raised his head.

Looking down at him was his master's smiling face. "Good morning" Douglas said. "I'm sorry I woke you, but you looked so adorable lying there asleep that I just had to pick you up." He tousled Owen's hair. "Seems I've grown quite fond of you."

Owen's heart skipped a beat. "You have?"

Douglas ran his fingers through the hair he had just disarranged, combing it back to neatness. "Why do you think I keep taking you into my bed?"

"I wasn't sure, I thought maybe it was out of pity."

"You see yourself as pitiful."

"Well ... yes."

"Owen, you're not pitiful, you're extraordinary! You were yanked from your family and dropped among people who made you feel utterly unwelcome, and what did you do? You behaved better than anyone could have asked. That's remarkable!"

With a joyful smile, Owen rested his head back on Douglas's chest.

=====

That night, in the wee small hours as Douglas lay asleep against Owen's back, he was roused by soft grunts. He listened for signs of a nightmare.

Owen lay still. He had fallen back to sleep.

Guessing the cause of the sounds, Douglas eased his hand from Owen's and put it on the front of the boy's pajama pants. There was a slippery area, and through the fabric he could feel the head of Owen's erect penis.

Owen had reawakened at the withdrawal of Douglas's hand from his. He turned and looked at his master.

"You were dreaming, weren't you?" Douglas asked.

"Yes."

"You had a wet dream."

"What's a wet dream?"

"A dream that makes you ejaculate. Would you like to tell me what it was about?"

Owen would not like to. He feared that if Douglas knew what he had been dreaming, he might be banished from his master's bed, perhaps even sent away. Yet he felt, as he had before, that he should not withhold anything from this man who was so kind to him – in this case not even at the risk of exile.

"It was about ... a boy."

"Younger than you, or older?"

"... Older."

"And?"

"I ..."

Owen's pauses suggested an obvious possibility. "Did you do something personal?"

Silence.

"Did you touch his penis, or his behind?"

Owen turned his head away. "I know, there's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you."

Owen faced him. "Yes there is, my brothers talk about boys who do those things. They say they're not normal, they call them bad names."

"Your brothers aren't qualified to judge what is normal."

"You don't know everything we did in the dream."

"Was there any violence, any force?"

"No."

"Then I don't need to know everything you did. You're normal. Now go back to sleep."

Owen turned away and waited.

Douglas put an arm around him.

Breathing a thankful sigh, Owen took Douglas's hand.

=====

It had been four months since Douglas began sharing his bed with Owen, when he awoke one morning to something warm and moist on the arm that was around the teenager.

"Owen?"

The feeling vanished.

"Owen, what were you doing?"

No reply.

"Look at me."

Owen turned. "You'll be mad."

"Why?"

Owen began to speak, stopped, began again, stopped again. Then he blurted out: "I was kissing you I love you please don't be mad at me!"

"I'm not mad at you. But could it be that what you really love is having someone next to you in bed?"

"No! I mean yes, it's wonderful not being alone at night, but I am in love with you. I didn't understand at first, all I knew was that whenever I'm near you something happens to me. I want to kiss you, I want to give you gifts. If I had money I wouldn't just"― he stopped.

Douglas grinned. "Wouldn't just leave me flowers?"

Owen looked like a small child who had been caught at something he shouldn't do.

Still grinning, Douglas said: "Didn't you realize I would ask Mr. Grayson whether he had ordered the flowers that suddenly began appearing in this room each week? When he said no, it confirmed what I had already figured out. For one thing, they always appear after your day off. Why do you sneak them in here rather than just giving them to me?"

"I was afraid you'd think I wanted something in return."

"Such as?"

"I don't know, maybe less work."

"Mr. Grayson offered you less work. You refused."

"You knew that?"

"He tells me everything that goes on in this house, it's part of his job. Where do you get these flowers, they're not among the varieties I have in my gardens."

"Oh no, taking them from your gardens would be stealing. I collect them in the woods."

"Of course. I should have guessed. Why did you think that telling me you love me would make me angry?"

"Because I'm your servant. Are you really not mad at me?"

Instead of answering his question, Douglas said: "Tell me, who is responsible for taking care of the flowers in this house?"

"The maids."

"Yet you've seen that I take care of these flowers myself. Have you ever wondered why?"

"Because they're beautiful, you always say so."

"The others are beautiful also but I don't take care of those. Want to try again?"

"That's the only reason I can think of."

"I take care of these flowers myself because I know they're from you."

Owen remained absolutely still; he couldn't quite believe what Douglas seemed to be saying.

Douglas smiled. "Yes Owen. I'm in love with you too."

End of Part I