Sex Slave Ch. 06

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

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

Warning, this story contains explicit descriptions of male/male sex.

Many thanks to my editor Lin Hall for his sharp eye and sharper wit. Also, I am very appreciative of my beta readers, nomoretears00 and Josh, for their perceptive comments and encouragement.

Sex Slave - 6: Tolsten

It was Tolsten's eighteenth birthday. He sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He shivered, although he wasn't cold. He hated change. In his experience, a change was always bad. He rested his head on his arms and rocked back and forth.

He was alone in the large room. He guessed that it was home to a couple of hundred slaves. All of the places along the walls had been claimed, blankets and bowls delineating each slave's spot. Blankets were scattered here and there throughout the room as well—those who had come later, or maybe were weaker, had the inferior, less protected spots.

Tolsten had put his blanket on the stone floor in the middle of the room. He had no idea what the dynamics would be like in the adult pen. He prayed that he would not be hurt too badly.

He already missed his friends from juvie, and he had only been away from them a few hours. They would all be turning eighteen over the next few years too; maybe he would see some of them again, someday. He felt the familiar ache of loss, constricting his chest and making his heart feel heavy. A tear leaked out of his eye and he brushed it away quickly. He did not want to appear weak when the other slaves arrived.

****

Keven noticed the boy right away. When they returned from the rock quarry one afternoon, he was sitting on his blanket watching them file into the slave pen. He looked young, unhappy and very scared.

His looks were unusual. His dark brown hair hung sleek and shiny down his back to his waist and was tied back with a scrap of black cloth. He had prominent cheekbones and his nose had been broken, but was not unattractive. His huge brown eyes were wide-set and framed with long, very dark lashes. He was thin, almost gangly, although his arms and stomach had defined muscles and his chest and shoulders showed promise of broadening still in the coming years. His movements were surprisingly lithe and graceful. When he stood, Keven discovered that they were almost the same height, the youth being only an inch or so shorter.

There was something oddly compelling about the young man and Keven felt strangely drawn to him. He seemed vulnerable. Hurt. Damaged in some way, but also spirited—an enigma. Keven felt a strong urge to protect him.

He found himself keeping an eye on the youth. He looked for him first thing in the morning, as if to assure himself that he hadn't disappeared overnight. Off and on throughout the day, he would find himself searching until he spotted the boy. He told himself he was just worried about him, since he seemed so defenseless.

Often when Keven glanced toward him, he discovered that the youth was watching him as well. The young man would avert his eyes quickly and sometimes his cheeks would color slightly. This pleased Keven for some reason.

He was the most exciting thing that had happened in the pens since Keven's arrival. Other slaves had come and gone, and he had hardly taken notice. But this one was different. Beautiful. Vulnerable. And strangely desirable.

Desirable? Keven tried to shake the thought out of his head. Where is this coming from? It's been too long since I've seen a female! Still ... he's got that long, gorgeous hair ...

The fear that was so apparent on the youth's face the first day faded, replaced by a haunted look in his eyes that made Keven's heart go out to him even more. He had surely endured much misery already in his young life.

Keven could tell that he was not new to slavery. There are certain mannerisms that slaves pick up, and the boy had them. He also had several slave stripes on his back that were at least a few years old. Hot anger bloomed in Keven's chest when he saw them. Who would torture a child so?

Another clue that he had been a slave for years was the length of his hair. All slaves were fully shorn upon arrival at the estate to ensure they did not bring parasites into the slave pens. He had been a slave long enough for his hair to grow all the way down his back.

On the third morning after the boy's arrival, Keven found himself shackled next to him on the slave chain. They walked together and talked on the way to the quarry. He discovered the young man's name was Tolsten, and that he was from Kenezia. Keven's country, Endora, was at war with Kenezia, but he saw no cause to hold that against him. Most common people had no control over their leaders, and Kenezians less than most.

Tolsten had been at the estate since age thirteen. He said he missed his friends from the juvenile pen, but he was being treated better in the adult pens so far. The handlers were not as brutal as those in juvie, he said.

Keven suppressed a shudder when he heard this. All the handlers he knew were ruthless, and he couldn't imagine becoming a slave at the tender age of thirteen. But Tolsten shrugged off his comments. He didn't seem to want to talk about himself. He was much more interested in finding out about Keven's life.

Keven, by turn, was evasive on the details of his upbringing. He still had told no one that he was the rightful King of Endora. He did not think that fact would get him any points in the slave pens. He could not hide his nobility, however. He was educated and refined. Tolsten was most impressed.

Over the next several weeks, Tolsten managed to be next to Keven on the slave chain, or working near him in the quarry often, and Keven enjoyed his company. He had a surprisingly positive outlook considering all that he had been through. He was full of energy and was quick to smile and laugh. He reminded Keven of an exuberant puppy. Sometimes he wiggled so much it almost seemed as if he were wagging a tail. But the haunted look never left his eyes.

Keven had been a slave in Master Rim's hell-hole for ten long, lonely months. His closest companion was Rees, a fellow countryman who had saved his life. He had made a few other friends in the pens as well, but he missed home terribly. And he missed Saeri.

He thought it strange that he thought of her so often after all this time. He had spent a week with her seven months earlier and hadn't seen her since. He had barely kissed her, but that kiss was burned indelibly into his brain. He played it back several times a day—even now—seven months later! He wondered if he would ever see her again, if she still even worked at the estate. He had questioned the new slaves coming into the pen, but none of them had word of her. It was a very large estate with thousands of slaves. Maybe she was still working at the infirmary, helping with new arrivals, or maybe she had been moved somewhere else. It was frustrating and depressing not to know.

During his time in slavery, he had seen no opportunity for escape. His master was a maniac who had savagely whipped him, almost to his death. The slave handlers were vicious and brutal, and many of the slaves were not much better. Had it not been for his friendship with Rees, he would have been truly miserable.

After long days of hauling rocks in the quarry, Keven never had any trouble falling asleep, but he often woke in the middle of the night. He would lay wrapped in his blanket, thinking about his past, wondering about his future, and feeling quite melancholy and hopeless.

It was then that he would usually masturbate. There was no privacy in the slave pens, but the other slaves would be mostly asleep, and he would be discreet under his blanket. Afterward he would fall back to sleep feeling better.

It was after one such interlude, just when Keven was about to drift off again, that he was brought wide-awake by a small cry. He propped himself up on his elbow and peered across the dimly lit room. The cry was followed by a whimper and someone whispering in harsh tones.

Keven spotted Rory, one of the larger slaves who enjoyed being a bully, leaning over someone, threatening him. Keven jumped to his feet and ran lightly across the room toward them. He was usually calm and slow to anger, but what he witnessed caused his blood to boil instantly.

"Take off your cloth!" Rory ordered.

Tolsten crouched under him, his eyes wide with fear. "No, please!" he pleaded.

"Shut up! Take it off now!" Rory commanded in a loud whisper. He drew his arm back, fist clenched. "I'll hurt you!"

Tolsten whimpered and quickly scrambled out of his breechclout, then lay very still on his stomach on the stone floor, hiding his face in the crook of his arm.

Rory kicked off his own breechclout, and taking his hard cock in his hand, he stroked it quickly several times. He straddled Tolsten, preparing to mount him.

"Oh, please, no!" the boy begged again, trying to squirm away.

Keven was upon Rory at that moment, kicking him hard on the shoulder, sending him sprawling.

"What the fuck!" Rory exclaimed. He jumped to his feet and faced Keven. "You cunt! Mind your own fucking business!"

Rory was almost a head taller than Keven, and probably at least fifty pounds heavier, but Keven did not hesitate. He punched Rory square in the jaw with the full force of his strength and anger. Rory staggered backward and Keven tackled him, pulling him roughly to the floor. Keven had been trained in self-defense from an early age and Rory was no match for him. He flipped him over expertly and twisted his arm behind his back. With his other hand, he reached between Rory's legs and took a firm hold on his balls, twisting and squeezing.

"Ow! Fuck!" Rory cried and held perfectly still.

"If I ever catch you trying to rape anyone again, I'll fuckin' twist your nuts off!" Keven hissed. "Do you understand?"

"Yes." The bully's answer was immediate. Keven crushed his balls once more before he let go and stood up. Rory curled up, moaning in pain.

Tolsten was sitting up staring at Keven with huge eyes. Tear drops glistened on his cheeks.

"Get your things," Keven ordered. "You need to move closer to Rees and me."

Tolsten jumped to his feet, pulled his breechclout back on, and scooped up his blanket and his bowl. Rory had recovered enough to sit up and he glared at Tolsten, cursing softly. Tolsten eyed him fearfully and edged closer to Keven.

Keven put his arm around Tolsten's shoulders and led him across the room. "I'm so sorry that happened," he said.

"I'm fine," Tolsten said, but his lower lip trembled and suddenly his eyes brimmed with tears which overflowed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry." He wiped the tears away with the back of his hand.

Keven squeezed his shoulder. He looked so young and hurt, Keven wanted very badly to make him feel better. "You've had a bad scare. Don't worry. I won't let it happen again."

"No, it's not that. It's just ..." Tolsten's tears flowed freely. "You're being so n ... n ... nice to me!"

They reached the end of the room where Keven slept, and they halted, but Keven kept his arm around Tolsten.

"I'm like a little kid!" Tolsten blubbered. "It's like, when I lost my family when I was eleven ... I ... I never grew up after that. At least not emotionally. I still bawl like a baby for no reason."

Keven didn't know what to say, so he hugged Tolsten to him. Tolsten's thin shoulders shook and his tears dampened Keven's shoulder. Keven stroked his hair and made soothing sounds.

"You just want to fuck him yourself!" Rory accused. He was still sitting where they had left him, but his voice carried across the room.

Keven's anger, which had started to fade, boiled right back up.

"That's right!" he called. "He's mine and I'm a jealous man. If I ever catch you even looking at him, I'll pluck your fucking eyeballs out!"

Tolsten shuddered in his arms. Realizing the implications of what he'd just said, Keven pulled away from Tolsten. "Don't worry," he said quietly. "I won't touch you."

"I wasn't worried." Tolsten's eyes shone with admiration and ... something else.

Keven had a strange tightness in his chest and became aware that his cock was half-hard and getting harder. It's just from the fighting, he told himself, although he had never had that reaction before.

He pointed to an empty place along the wall. "I think you can have that spot. The slave that was there was taken out of here a couple of days ago. If he comes back, we'll rearrange and squeeze you in somewhere else."

Tolsten nodded and laid his blanket out in the indicated spot. It was twenty feet away from Keven's place, and there were several other slaves between them, but Keven would be close enough to protect him if need be.

****

The days passed slowly, one being much the same as another in the life of a slave. A few weeks after Keven had rescued Tolsten, he found himself jacking-off again in the middle of the night. He closed his eyes and conjured up memories of the dream he'd had of making love with faerie-Saeri. Although he had lost his virginity and spent two amazing days with the gorgeous Charise, Saeri was almost always the girl of his fantasies. When she had touched him—dear Lord! Just the memory of her fingers on his cock always brought him to climax quickly.

He closed his eyes and pumped steadily on his hard cock. Dream-Saeri had been so beautiful, so erotic. Pre-cum leaked out of his slit and he used it to slicken his shaft. He stroked faster, panting. When Saeri had touched him in his dream she had brought him immediately to the edge of orgasm. He stifled a groan as the memory brought waves of exquisite sensation to his cock. He didn't try to hold back the orgasm and it shuddered through his body in ripples of pleasure. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying out as sperm spewed from his cock into a corner of his blanket.

A few post-orgasm shivers wracked his body as he caught his breath. He let out a small sigh and slowly opened his eyes.

That's when he saw Tolsten, sitting on his blanket, leaning against the wall. He was staring at him intently with an odd expression on his face. With a start, Keven realized that Tolsten was masturbating.

He made no effort to hide his actions; his hard cock was plainly visible as he moved his hand up and down its long shaft. A surge of sexual excitement coursed through Keven, followed immediately by a wave of guilt, but he could not bring himself to look away. He knew that Tolsten had probably just watched his own intense orgasm and perhaps been turned on by it.

Tolsten did not seem to mind being watched. Indeed, he stroked himself faster and began to pant with pleasure. He did not take his eyes off Keven's face. His long hair was loose and fell about his shoulders in shining waves. His breath came in sharp, quick gasps and his eyes narrowed to slits. He twisted his nipple with the fingers of his left hand.

Keven's heart pounded and he felt warm all over as he watched the seductive youth pleasure himself. Although he had just orgasmed, his cock stiffened and jerked.

Tollsten kept himself on the edge of orgasm for several minutes, sometimes slowing down and sometimes speeding up his stroke. Finally, he allowed himself to cum. Long streams of white semen shot out of his cock to splash onto his stomach and smooth chest. His whole body spasmed with the intensity. He closed his beautiful eyes and his face contorted in ecstasy. A small cry of pleasure was ripped from his lips.

Keven stifled the moan that threatened to escape his own mouth as he watched Tolsten orgasm. Had he ever seen anything so erotic? His cock was dripping.

He was still staring at him when Tolsten's eyes opened and locked with Keven's again. He scooped up a glob of cum from his chest and slipped it into his mouth, sucking seductively on his finger.

Keven felt his eyes widen. Lord have mercy! That is so hot!

A big grin spread across Tolsten's face as he observed Keven's reaction.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Keven rolled over to face the other direction. He could feel his face grow red with shame.

Neither of them spoke of the incident later. Keven tried to forget it.

However, during the days that followed Keven found he was obsessed with Tolsten. He knew at all times where Tolsten was and what he was doing. He could not seem to stop thinking about him and when Tolsten wasn't looking, he could not tear his eyes away from the gorgeous youth. At the same time, he became less friendly with Tolsten. He tried to act unconcerned and aloof. He was very afraid of the feelings that were stirring in his breast ... and his loins.

Tolsten, for his part, had already decided he was head-over-heels in love with the young nobleman. Keven was the man of his dreams: smart, strong, brave and protective. And absolutely stunning! Intense green eyes. Slender but muscular physique. Even the whip scar across his face was attractive—it made him seem dangerous. Tolsten's mouth watered whenever he looked at Keven, which was as often as possible.

He realized Keven was uncomfortable around him. The nobleman acted like he didn't care, but Tolsten could feel Keven's eyes on him when he thought he wasn't looking. And sometimes, when he stood close, he caught a glimpse of desire in Keven's eyes that was so intense it burned right into his soul. Fuck, the man is sexy! And he wants me too... he just isn't ready to admit it.

Tolsten tried his damndest to woo Keven, to finally get Keven to the point where he could no longer deny his feelings.

When Tolsten stood close to him or moved in certain ways, Keven's lust for the youth flamed brightly. He longed to find out what it would be like to touch his smooth chest, to stroke his shining hair, to kiss him on the back of his long neck, to fondle his ... He usually managed to stop himself there.

He tried very hard to steer his thoughts and feelings away from Tolsten. He told himself that it was not real, that his lust for Tolsten was a side effect of having watched him masturbate, combined with the lack of female companionship.

However, he knew that sex between males in the slave pen was not uncommon. Many of the slaves had paired up with each other and were openly loving. Others were more discreet, and some shifted from partner to partner.

There was a voice in Keven's head which argued that it would be good for him to have sex with Tolsten. Why should I deny us whatever pleasure we can get in this place of so much pain? He obviously wants it. I want it. Why not?

The youth was relentless in his pursuit of Keven. He would walk past him, very close, his shoulder brushing Keven's arm or his hand bumping Keven's thigh. Such 'accidental' contact always sent a shudder of desire through Keven. Tolsten would drop something in front of him so he could bend over to pick it up, giving Keven a close-up of his tight little ass. He would find excuses to hand Keven things, and his fingers touched with the delivery, sending sparks up Keven's arm. His eyes were always on Keven's, beautiful, hopeful, haunted and lustful.

The weeks passed slowly. Keven's obsession did not wane, nor did the firmness of his cock. When Tolsten was near, which was often, he was almost always hard.

He had promised himself that he would not watch the youth masturbate again. But Tolsten seemed insatiable. He masturbated every night, sometimes more than once, and even if Keven didn't watch, he was aware of Tolsten's actions. He could hear the faint slurp of fingers sliding on a cum-slickened shaft, hear the quick small pants of breath as he brought himself closer, and always the small cry of ecstasy and the splatter of cum across his bare chest. Lord! Even when he didn't watch, he almost came himself just from the visualization that went along with the sounds.