Toys to Wind Up
folder
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,806
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
DarkFic › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
4,806
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Little Boy
Thank you so much for the reviews I hope everyone that likes it. Let’s see warnings for this chapter actually not many, it’s extremely short, there’s only hinting of child abuse
Oh and just so you know
Martovay is pronounced Mar-toe-vay
Sekan is pronounced See-kan
Avano is pronounced av-an-O
Unedited so if there’s any mistakes I’ll probably fix them by next chapter
Martovay sighed as Lord Sekan himself dragged him to the banquet hall. Pull any harder, he thought, and the taller man would probably yank the elbow from out of his socket.
The hall was huge, decorated in soft yellows and bright golds. Blue tapestries covered the wall. There was a long table and chairs lined up neatly. Beside them were cushions. Martovay didn’t need to wonder what they were for. He already knew. He had been to this place many times before, though never against his will. He had also been in many other rich men’s homes, and he had also been in that… no, he wouldn’t think of it… he had better not be forced to sit on one of them.
In the end, he was not. He was placed on the right side of the Lord. Slowly people started sliding in; slaves hanging off of the new comers or slightly behind them. The women had pretty boys that should have been attending to sheep rather than their mistresses’ needs. The men had beautiful girls young enough to be their daughters, or even, in some cases, granddaughters. Several girls were ushered in to attend to Sekan. Martovay was not ashamed at all that he was the only one in the room that didn’t have anyone to attend him. He quickly studied those around him. Boris was across from him on Sekan’s left. To Martovay’s right was a distinguished looking man with two girls at his feet. He stroked one on the head like he would a well-favoured pet.
Not too far from the truth, Martovay mused. He noticed three seats to the left of Boris, Avano. He looked rather put out. To his right on one of the cushions was a lovely young woman that was giving Avano worried looks. This was strange. Martovay could see the hidden disgust and fear the other slaves had of their owners, but her…
“He’s like you,” Sekan said softly so that no one would overhear them. Martovay suppressed a shudder as he felt the well-manicured hand on his left shoulder. Damn Sekan’s attentiveness… in fact, damn the man altogether. Martovay didn’t even bother trying to shake off the offending hand.
“Hmm?” He asked vaguely.
“Dear Florence over there,” Sekan elaborated, “He’s soft-hearted,” They both watched as the slave girl put her hand on Avano’s thigh in a gesture of comfort. A moment past and she pulled her hand away again.
“See that,” Sekan asked. Martovay was not facing him, but he could easily see the ever-mocking smile on the lord’s face, “Soft hearted.”
“How is a slave putting her hand on a man’s thigh show that he’s soft hearted?” Martovay questioned.
“He didn’t punish her. The girl is for Florence to touch, not the other way around. He is not there for her pleasure and amusement.”
“I don’t think you give Avano enough credit.”
“You question me too much, you should be eternally grateful to me,” Martovay didn’t speak. It was as if Sekan had slapped him in the face. He opened his mouth to speak, but there was nothing to say. The hand on his shoulder squeezed a bit to focus attention.
“See that man over there, greying hair, heavy set, red robe?” Sekan didn’t wait for any indication that Martovay had spotted the man or not. The smaller man had though.
“Look down,” Sekan whispered, “See that little boy there? Beautiful child isn’t he? Fine dark brown hair,” Sekan gave a tug at Martovay’s shaggy black hair, “lovely brown eyes…” Martovay closed his own eyes. He wouldn’t let the bastard get into his head.
“This very night, his master will take him into his private room,” And suddenly, the little boy seated by the old man was Martovay, “and he’ll stroke that gorgeous hair, not such a rare colour, but so soft and silky that goes with his face so well,” traces of finger tips in his hair, “He’ll lie the boy down…” Sekan trailed off and glanced over at the shuddering Martovay, “You already know this … you didn’t ever get that far though, did you? No, I suppose not, I saved you just in time.” a smirk. Martovay scowled.
“What have you saved me from?” he growled, “A life of slavery? No, I do you will as you would have me do it? Of a horrible rape? You fuck my mind every time I’m near you, whether you say anything or not!” Martovay took a breath to stop himself from shouting, he settled for whispering furiously, “Nothing, there is nothing that I can be grateful about,”
To Martovay’s annoyance Sekan’s almost ever present smile grew wider, “Ah, Vay, I haven’t had such stimulating conversation in weeks, this is why it’s good that you are here,” And with that Sekan turned to talk to Lord Boris to his other side. Martovay sat there in stunned silence for a moment.
The man was infuriating. You gain the upper hand and he turns that into a joke, no… you never *gain* the upper hand, he *gives* you the upper hand so he can take it away! He turns the conversation, serious one moment, mild the next.
Martovay stared at the boy. His hair seemed darker, shaggier. Food was set before the slave trader, but he had no appetite for it.
That’s all for now, please give me feedback
Oh and just so you know
Martovay is pronounced Mar-toe-vay
Sekan is pronounced See-kan
Avano is pronounced av-an-O
Unedited so if there’s any mistakes I’ll probably fix them by next chapter
Martovay sighed as Lord Sekan himself dragged him to the banquet hall. Pull any harder, he thought, and the taller man would probably yank the elbow from out of his socket.
The hall was huge, decorated in soft yellows and bright golds. Blue tapestries covered the wall. There was a long table and chairs lined up neatly. Beside them were cushions. Martovay didn’t need to wonder what they were for. He already knew. He had been to this place many times before, though never against his will. He had also been in many other rich men’s homes, and he had also been in that… no, he wouldn’t think of it… he had better not be forced to sit on one of them.
In the end, he was not. He was placed on the right side of the Lord. Slowly people started sliding in; slaves hanging off of the new comers or slightly behind them. The women had pretty boys that should have been attending to sheep rather than their mistresses’ needs. The men had beautiful girls young enough to be their daughters, or even, in some cases, granddaughters. Several girls were ushered in to attend to Sekan. Martovay was not ashamed at all that he was the only one in the room that didn’t have anyone to attend him. He quickly studied those around him. Boris was across from him on Sekan’s left. To Martovay’s right was a distinguished looking man with two girls at his feet. He stroked one on the head like he would a well-favoured pet.
Not too far from the truth, Martovay mused. He noticed three seats to the left of Boris, Avano. He looked rather put out. To his right on one of the cushions was a lovely young woman that was giving Avano worried looks. This was strange. Martovay could see the hidden disgust and fear the other slaves had of their owners, but her…
“He’s like you,” Sekan said softly so that no one would overhear them. Martovay suppressed a shudder as he felt the well-manicured hand on his left shoulder. Damn Sekan’s attentiveness… in fact, damn the man altogether. Martovay didn’t even bother trying to shake off the offending hand.
“Hmm?” He asked vaguely.
“Dear Florence over there,” Sekan elaborated, “He’s soft-hearted,” They both watched as the slave girl put her hand on Avano’s thigh in a gesture of comfort. A moment past and she pulled her hand away again.
“See that,” Sekan asked. Martovay was not facing him, but he could easily see the ever-mocking smile on the lord’s face, “Soft hearted.”
“How is a slave putting her hand on a man’s thigh show that he’s soft hearted?” Martovay questioned.
“He didn’t punish her. The girl is for Florence to touch, not the other way around. He is not there for her pleasure and amusement.”
“I don’t think you give Avano enough credit.”
“You question me too much, you should be eternally grateful to me,” Martovay didn’t speak. It was as if Sekan had slapped him in the face. He opened his mouth to speak, but there was nothing to say. The hand on his shoulder squeezed a bit to focus attention.
“See that man over there, greying hair, heavy set, red robe?” Sekan didn’t wait for any indication that Martovay had spotted the man or not. The smaller man had though.
“Look down,” Sekan whispered, “See that little boy there? Beautiful child isn’t he? Fine dark brown hair,” Sekan gave a tug at Martovay’s shaggy black hair, “lovely brown eyes…” Martovay closed his own eyes. He wouldn’t let the bastard get into his head.
“This very night, his master will take him into his private room,” And suddenly, the little boy seated by the old man was Martovay, “and he’ll stroke that gorgeous hair, not such a rare colour, but so soft and silky that goes with his face so well,” traces of finger tips in his hair, “He’ll lie the boy down…” Sekan trailed off and glanced over at the shuddering Martovay, “You already know this … you didn’t ever get that far though, did you? No, I suppose not, I saved you just in time.” a smirk. Martovay scowled.
“What have you saved me from?” he growled, “A life of slavery? No, I do you will as you would have me do it? Of a horrible rape? You fuck my mind every time I’m near you, whether you say anything or not!” Martovay took a breath to stop himself from shouting, he settled for whispering furiously, “Nothing, there is nothing that I can be grateful about,”
To Martovay’s annoyance Sekan’s almost ever present smile grew wider, “Ah, Vay, I haven’t had such stimulating conversation in weeks, this is why it’s good that you are here,” And with that Sekan turned to talk to Lord Boris to his other side. Martovay sat there in stunned silence for a moment.
The man was infuriating. You gain the upper hand and he turns that into a joke, no… you never *gain* the upper hand, he *gives* you the upper hand so he can take it away! He turns the conversation, serious one moment, mild the next.
Martovay stared at the boy. His hair seemed darker, shaggier. Food was set before the slave trader, but he had no appetite for it.
That’s all for now, please give me feedback