Worn Down

Tiric Donsfall, Lord of Eastern Covria, surveyed the slim body on the bed. Naked and unconscious, the boy's limbs fell loosely, in a parody of natural sleep. Blond hair fell into his eyes, shadowing the telltale drug-dark rings around them, leaving him as innocent as a child. The only thing marring the natural perfection was the silver chain around his throat, caught with a gold respresentation of Tiric's mark- a sign that the boy belonged to him.

He wasn't waiting for him to wake up- after the auction, an extra dose of garis had been given to him to knock him out for the journey- the drug had rendered him pliable, but now there would be trouble weaning him off of it. Of course he might not want to- garis was likely to make his transformation into an obedient slaveboy a great deal easier.

Not that Tiric had ever enjoyed easy.

Hours passed, and the boy blinked awake, his pupils mere pinholes under the drug's influence. He looked around hazily, surroundings... different. No matter. Unimportant... he felt so good.Every muscle was relaxed, and he lay and revelled in it, shivering when the sheets below him rubbed his drug-sensitive skin. He ran his hands over himself unthinking, the touch bringing out even more pleasure. He got lost rubbing the skin by his hip, crying out softly, gasps and mewls the only sound he could make.

Then there were other hands, big, strong, touching him places no one else ever touched him- his cock, so hard, so aching, stroking and brushing in all the right places. He pressed into them, uncaring of whose they were. The only important thing was the touches, and that they not stop, not stop, not- stop... everything shuddered and jittered and he came with a cry, muscles stiffening momentarily. The hands pulled away and he almost cried at their loss.

A face came into his view- handsome, sharp, intelligent- older than he was. It smiled and said something he didn't catch, but he was sure it was all right... the man was naked. The boy cocked his head- he'd never seen a naked man before. It was interesting. He reached out a hand to touch, brushing over his skin gently. The man took his hand and wrapped it around his cock. He'd never touched any but his own- it felt different.

The man made encouraging noises and he stroked a little- the skin was so soft against his hand, it felt so good. He moved his hand more, surprised when the man pushed into it, a big hand on the back of his head, gently moving it down. He nuzzled hesitantly, giggling as it twitched under his lips. Curiously, he slid his tongue out to taste, running it over and around the head- it tasted funny, and he wanted to stop, but the man held his head in place so he reluctantly kept licking- he opened his mouth to bite once and got sharply smacked. Licking was safe and the man liked it and... his mind drifted, lost in a drug haze. He didn't know anything until morning.

********

The awareness was one of Tiric's favourite parts. Waking up after their garis-stupor put most slaves in a bad mood- a side effect of the drug, completely unavoidable. He waited for the boy's eyes to clear, for him to realize how naked he was and what he had done.

He wasn't disappointed, the boy's spine stiffening as he sat up straight. "Who the fuck are you? What did you do to me?"

"Let's not be vulgar, child. You've just been drugged."

"How long? Where am I? Who are you?" His agitation was evident- he was well-muscled for his age, obviously of fairly noble rearing. And the garis had rendered him spitting mad. Tiric was glad of the restraints he'd had placed.

"You may call me sir. Or master. You've been drugged for the last two weeks and are now at my estates." He paused. "You'll be here for quite a while. I've selected you to be one of my pets. A very honourable position."

The boy's lip curled. "I'm not a catamite, you stinking pervert."

Tiric patted his hair, pulling his hand back to avoid being bitten. "You will be. What's your name?"

"Adren fin Barris. My family's going to hear and they will kill you."

A fin Barris. One of the more civilized clans of the mountains- which explained his breeding as well as the fire in his personality. The auction house had really outdone themselves.

"I think not. Their alliances with Covria are far too important to risk on a mere child." Tiric smiled, touching the gold medallion that marked Adren for his. "I'm afraid you've no choice."

"I'm not going to! You can't make me do anything!" Adren spat at him.

Tiric growled and wiped it off on the boy. "High-handed mountain ways do nothing. You're at my mercy here and unless you want to find how little of that I have, I suggest you behave."

"I'd rather fuck a pig, you dirty old man." Adren turned away as much as he could.

"That can be arranged." Tiric chuckled. "I'm sure I have a few pigs that need... gratification."

"You're disgusting!" The boy snarled, his face a mask of revulsion. "Get away from me."

"Very well." Tiric turned and left, leaving him cuffed to the bed.

*************

He came back later in the evening to find Adren tugging at his handcuffs, rocking back and forth. "What do you think you're doing, lad?"

"Getting out of here. I've no intention of being your whore." His words were sharp, clipped.

Tiric shook his head. "Trying to break the bedframe won't work. It's lasted worse than you, child."

"I'm not a child! Let me out of here!" Adren stopped rocking to snarl at his new owner. "I'll never give in to you. Just kill me now and be done!"

"I've no intention of killing you. You're far too valuable." Tiric lightly touched his hair. "I'm sure you'll come to see it my way."

"I'll never! I'll jump out of a tower first."

Tiric just laughed. "No, you won't. For one thing, you're still chained up here."

"Damn you! Damn your stinking hide to the eight..." Adren trailed off, his eyes glued to the blue-green vial Tiric had uncorked, the sweet, heavy scent of garis wafting through the room. "..hells, oh god."

"What is it?" Tiric smiled, recapping the tiny bottle.

"Please... give me some." Adren's face twisted. "Please..."

"No. Earn it." He slid the bottle back into his pocket. "Show me what you'll do for it and I'll let you have a drop."

Adren was torn- just for a moment. "You bastard. You son of a pock-marked whore! I'll never let you have me, not for all your fancy drugs and tricks!"

Tiric laughed. "Well, then..."

Adren was still swearing when he walked out.

*******

By the end of the third day, the mountain boy was desperate. Light food and plenty of water had been given to him by silent maids, but the one thing he wanted and needed hadn't been given him. He spat whenever Tiric entered the room, trying to ignore the older man, and swearing at him until he left in a fit of laughter when he couldn't. His wrists and ankles were chafed raw from his jerking and rocking against the bed, trying to free himself.

That night, the silent maids came with his food and water, and then they uncuffed him, sponging the raw skin.

"What's going on?" He moved his arm, wondering at how strange that feeling had become over the last few days. "What the hell is going on?"

"Now, pet, don't mistreat the staff. They're just doing as they've been told." Tiric was leaning against the doorframe, smiling a little. Adren shuddered and turned away.

"Stay away from me, pervert."

"I suggest you watch your tongue, Adren. If you displease me, you'll be punished."

"I can take anything you dish out, you weak piece of shit."

Tiric tsked and crossed the room, backhanding Adren against the bed. "I told you to watch your tongue."

Adren reeled in surprise, recovering to try and punch Tiric- the man moved surprisingly fast and grabbed his hand in a crushing grip.

"Don't try it, pet. I've killed stronger and more practiced men than you with my bare hands. And I want you for something else." He leaned in, his hot breath playing over Adren's cool skin. "You will be mine."

Adren froze for a moment before jerking away. "In your dreams, pervert."

Tiric merely smiled mildly and gestured for the maids to leave. "That's no way to talk to your master. You will learn respect if I have to bloody your back to do it."

"You'll have to bloody a lot more than my back, you sick fuck. Don't touch me." Adren worked himself into a corner, snarling at the older man. "Stay away from me."

Tiric grabbed his shoulder, yanking him out of the corner, his other hand pushing aside the velvet drapes that covered that wall of the room- Adren had expected a window, but instead the wall was covered with racks of whips, crops, canes, obscene pleasure toys- and a large wooden X, each arm bearing a cuff.

"You're joking." Adren stared in horror, giving Tiric the opportunity to cuff him in place on the whipping cross, chuckling to himself.

"Indeed not. Will you mind your tongue?"

Hesitation. "Goatfucker."

"Ah. I thought you wouldn't." He picked up a heavy flogger and brought it down on his back.

Adren was, for once, silent except for a hissing exhale. Tiric brought the flogger down again, angry red welts rising on the boy's skin. "Mind your tongue, slut."

He snarled. "I'm no one's slut." Another crack brought a faint thread of sound that could have been a whimper if it was louder. "No one's."

"You'll be mine," Tiric answered with a maddening certainty, never stopping the assault on Adren's back. The skin was covered in welts now, stinging until Adren had to bite his lip to keep silent. After a while it didn't help much, and he whimpered and moaned, barely holding himself back from full on pleading.

Tiric's arm didn't tire, or maybe he switched- Adren couldn't tell, didn't care. All he knew was that his back was as raw as his wrists and that he was crying in front of a man he hated. He didn't even remember when he went from moaning to screaming, blood trickling down his spine.

He finally started pleading, begging for it to stop, promising silence, obedience, anything to stop the blows. He swore on every god he knew, Amarna, Llannos, Ruaslan... and finally, thankfully, it stopped. Cool water washed over his broken skin, stinging at first, but so good, so good... he sagged against the unfinished wood, the rough texture nothing compared to the burning pain in his back.

He clung to Tiric when the older man took him down, unable to do anything else as he was half-carried to the bed, laid on his front. Firm, gentle hands spread ointment over his back and bandaged it, and then he was alone in the dimly lit room.