Cold Comforts

When they had finally come for him, Raven had been resigned to his fate. After all, he was the youngest son at sixteen, and could not seem to maintain a steady job to earn income to help support the family. The only good thing about him was his pretty looks. His long, straight hair, soft as bird’s down, was kept well-groomed and tied back in a loose ponytail that swung down past his shoulders to the small of his back. Large green eyes reflected the lights around them, sparks of amber and gold shining in them. His body was petite, with a trim waist and slender hips, and his hands were delicate, with long, slender fingers.

His mother had once remarked off-handedly that he had better not get himself into any trouble, with either a man or a woman, because he’d be even more useless that way. He hadn’t understood what that had meant, until he overheard his parents talking about selling him for his beauty, and his purity. Raven was highly intelligent, and he knew what sex was, and that sometimes parents sold their unprofitable children into prostitution. The more chaste and pure the son or daughter, the higher they sold for.

When Raven had first heard his parents discussing selling him into what amounted to slavery, he had wanted to scream and rant and accuse them of hating him and run away from home. But that wouldn’t have helped his family, and so he had resigned himself to his fate, pretending to be oblivious and floating from job to job, bringing home as much money as he could to support his family, even though he knew it wasn’t enough – would never be enough.

And so, when the men had come for him, he had stood patiently while they poked and prodded him, examining him critically. He had stripped reluctantly when ordered to, his face a brilliant red, and had managed to only groan, biting his lower lip hard, when they had checked his insides, to make certain that he was truly a virgin, at least with other men.

They had finally been satisfied and had counted out the money to his parents, who refused to look his way, staring instead at the coins that were paid to them, their eyes downcast and their faces fearful, as if they were afraid that he’d ruin this for them, that he’d scream and argue and refuse to go with the brutal men that now owned him. But he did none of that, standing in the corner of the room where he had been left, staring around his home as if it were a foreign place.

Perhaps it was, he mused. After all, it was no longer any place that he could call his own. His brothers and sisters were all out at work, and he would be gone before they arrived back home. He wondered if any of them would get upset for him, would fight for him, or worry about his fate. Part of him hoped they would, but the larger part would prefer that they forgot about him instead. He was just another mouth to feed, a burden that they hardly needed right now.

His eyes were wrapped in a soft cloth tied firmly, but not so tightly that it would mark his delicate skin, and his hands bound by a similar cloth, so that they didn’t chafe against his wrists. Still, he was under no illusions that he’d be able to break away and regain his freedom. Besides, he had been warned quite clearly what the consequences of such an action would be – immediate execution upon capture, followed by the slaughter of his entire family, for taking money for a rebellious child.

Raven really had no choice but to obey his new owners as he was lifted into a covered wagon that would protect his skin from the heat and dust during their travels. He had wondered, briefly, why they had chosen a wagon rather than a truck, but it hardly mattered at this point. No doubt a truck simply wasn’t practical in a remote area made of dirt paths and rough gravel roads.

The wagon shifted as the two men climbed into the front seat of the wagon, confident that their charge wasn’t going anywhere. Raven lay silently, curled up on his side as they drove down the road, the creaking of the wagon and the clopping of the horses’ hooves his only companions. It appeared that these men had made a special trip for him, because there were no other bodies in the wagon with him, so while his mouth wasn’t bound, he had nobody to talk to, and nothing to say even if there had been others with him.

The fear and determination that had plagued him left him weak and exhausted, so he closed his eyes behind the blindfold, the rocking motion of the wagon almost comforting, the scent of dry earth and the local plants familiar and soothing. Slowly, his body relaxed, until he was slumped bonelessly on the floor of the wagon, his mind back in the direction he had come from, wondering if any of his siblings had arrived home and noticed him missing. He wondered if his parents would try and buy more time by telling them that he was still at his job, or if they’d just admit to having sold their youngest son.

His thoughts anywhere but on his own predicament, Raven hardly noticed when the wagon pulled off of the main road, except to note that the jostling had gotten a bit rougher. Still, unable to see anything through the blindfold, he was clueless about their current location. He couldn’t even estimate how far away from his village they were, having lost track of time while mulling over his current predicament.

Eventually, though, the wagon stopped, and Raven forced himself upright into a sitting position, straightening his back and shoulders. Just because he was now condemned to a life of slavery and prostitution, it didn’t mean that he had to swallow his pride as well. He turned his head towards the back of the wagon, but remained silent as the approaching footsteps stopped a few feet away.

“Well?” a harsh voice demanded, and Raven sighed quietly to himself, then shifted onto his knees and then onto his feet, using his bound hands to push himself up. Moving carefully, Raven took a few tentative steps forward, and stopped a little before where he estimated the end of the wagon was. “Lean down,” that same voice ordered, and Raven obeyed, not seeing any other options. Refusal would probably just get him dragged out of the wagon by force, and might earn him a slap or two.

Strong hands gripped him firmly under his arms and lifted him easily out of the wagon. He was deposited on the ground and abruptly released, stumbling as he adjusted to the uneven ground below his feet. He wondered if the blindfold would be removed now, but when the man in front of him did nothing except to attach a lead to the cloth ropes binding his wrists, Raven quickly realized that it would probably remain on until they reached their destination, or until he was sold to the highest bidder.

A sharp tug, and they were walking across the ground, the man leading him hardly caring that he couldn’t see, and that he stumbled frequently. A few scrapes and bruises wouldn’t make any difference to the sort of people Raven suspected he’d be given to.

Swallowing heavily, fear creeping up on him in place of the forced indifference, Raven tried to keep up with the men as they moved several yards forward before stopping. He was pressed back against a tree, and he sat on the ground gratefully, bending his knees up and curling his arms around them, his head lowered as the men moved around him, setting up camp.

“He’s a quiet little thing, isn’t he?” one of the men growled, and Raven startled, having been unaware of the man standing right in front of him, towering over his shivering form. “Heh. And completely unaware of anything around him,” the man chuckled. Raven felt him crouch down, so that when he next spoke, his voice sounded much closer. “You do realize what’s going to happen to you, don’t you?” he asked cruelly. “Surely a boy of your age is well aware of the type of people your family just sold you to for a pittance.”

Raven bit his lip and kept his silence, ignoring the sharp prickle of tears that burned hotly behind his eyes. He would not give these brutish men the satisfaction of seeing him cry over the mention of his family’s betrayal, their willingness to sell him into slavery and prostitution for money. It really wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t hold a job; his beauty meant that he was often the object of unwanted attention and molestation, and he often caused trouble at his workplaces just by doing his job.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a large hand fisting painfully in his hair, drawing a cry from his mouth as he was dragged forward, so that his captor’s foul breath washed over him as he spoke. “I expect you to answer me when I ask you a question! Understand?” he demanded, his hand tightening more in Raven’s hair as his head was yanked backwards, bowing his back and arching his throat painfully, his forehead pressed against the rough tree bark.

Whimpering, the tears threatening to fall at any moment, Raven managed to choke out, “Yes…sir.” Apparently satisfied, the man loosened his painful grip on Raven’s hair, allowing him to sit back up properly, but he didn’t move from in front of him. Tensing again, Raven wondered what he wanted this time. After several considering moments, the man – Raven had never gotten his name, and didn’t care to know, either – stood up and walked away, moving to help the other man gather firewood.

Reaching his bound hands upwards, Raven touched his blindfold and debated the merits of removing it. It wasn’t like he’d know where they were just by looking anyhow, and he’d feel better if he could see. Making a sudden decision, Raven stretched his hands over his head and undid the knot, quickly pulling off the blindfold and blinking into the dim light of the evening, his eyes adjusting as he sat there.

The two men were staring at him, and he stared back defiantly, emerald eyes bright and full of false bravado, even though he was terrified of what these men might do to him now that he had been disobedient and removed the cover that had shielded his vision. After a moment, the men just laughed at him and went back to their tasks after giving him a firm warning not to try and run, unless he wished to suffer the consequences.

Surprised, but not about to question their leniency, Raven continued to sit where he had been put, his eyes watching the two men cautiously, tracking their movement across the small clearing where they would be camping for the night. Something about the way they moved with such purpose, quickly doing what needed to be done, made him uneasy.

Once the fire had been stoked, the flames flickering and casting shadows upon the clearing, the men settled themselves onto the ground and pulled out packages of food. Dinner, Raven presumed, watching hungrily as they poured it into a pan along with a canteen full of water. Soon the scent of chicken and broth rose pleasantly in the clearing, and the men scooped out three bowlfuls of the thick soup.

The man who had grabbed him earlier brought a bowl of the soup over to Raven, who took it gratefully. Blowing gently on the soup before lifting it to his lips and taking a small sip, Raven failed to notice the man’s eyes turn predatory. Turning to look at his partner, the man cocked his head towards the oblivious boy in question. His partner just shrugged, his eyes amused as he, too, stood up and moved over to them, staying a little further back, so as to not alarm their newest purchase.

Raven finally realized that he was being watched intently and looked up, his eyes wide. The two men were staring at him hungrily, their eyes gleaming with an emotion that didn’t bode well for the object of their attentions. Carefully, he set down his empty bowl, keeping his eyes on his caretakers.

The first man, who appeared to be the more talkative of the two partners, though not the leader, smiled at Raven. “Was the food to your liking, boy?” he asked. Raven hesitated, not sure what the other man was looking for. Agreement, probably, and maybe some indication of gratitude as well.

“It was very good,” he murmured quietly, remembering his earlier warning about answering when he was asked a question. “Thank you, sir,” he added, figuring it couldn’t make his predicament any worse to be polite. After all, they hadn’t really treated him badly, considering his relation to them.

The man gave him a cruel smile in return, and Raven curled in on himself, his breath catching. He was suddenly more than wary; he was terrified. “Looks like he at least recognizes that he owes us some gratitude for taking him in,” the man growled. “Then this shouldn’t be too much of a problem, now should it?” he smirked, pushing himself to his feet and reaching for the laces on his pants.

Raven scrabbled backwards, away from the man that towered over him, a firm grip on his stirring cock. His back dug into the tree bark, stopping his movement, but he was too frightened to even think about darting to the side. “Now, boy, how ‘bout a proper thank you?” the man grunted, moving forward to stand right in front of him. “We can’t have that tight ass of yours, or you won’t be worth anything when we sell you off. But your mouth is free now, isn’t it? Just mind the teeth, or you’ll be wishing you were dead. A broken leg isn’t gonna lower your value much.”

Raven clamped his mouth shut, fighting down the rising nausea. The man wanted him to put that…that thing in his mouth? And do what with it? He shook his head mutely, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he’d throw up the dinner he’d just finished. So that was why they’d been so nice as to feed him. They wanted him to realize that they could treat him decently, but only if he paid the price. He’d rather starve; he really would.

A movement to his right startled him, and Raven swung his head around just as the second man’s hand whipped outwards, catching him by the throat and cutting off his airway. His other hand fisted painfully in Raven’s hair, and the boy suppressed a whimper of pain, keeping his lips clamped shut, even as his lungs screamed for oxygen.

“Look, boy, we can do this the easy way, and we can teach you what you need to know before we sell you, or we can do it the hard way, and just force the issue. Either way, you’ll service us with that pretty mouth of yours, or you won’t eat, and you won’t get any blankets or anything, either. Perhaps we’ll even cut out your tongue, so that you can’t yap at us.” Raven stared up at him, shaking, knowing that he was serious. “Well, boy, what’ll it be?”

With no other choice but to die there against that tree, and running out of air quickly, Raven did the only thing he could; he opened his mouth. Almost immediately, the grip around his neck loosened so that he could breath, but the hand remained, pressing firmly enough to let him know that it would only take a split second before it would be choking him again, if he misbehaved.

“Now that’s a good pet,” the other man approved as he stepped forward, his hand coming down to cup Raven’s jaw, forcing his mouth to open wider as he shoved his cock inside, not bothering to give Raven time to accommodate or adjust to the sudden intrusion. The man hit the back of his throat, and he gagged, retching around the cock inside him and resisting the reflex to bite down, knowing the consequences of such an action. With a broken leg, he’d never be able to flee.

The man thrust into his mouth repeatedly, grunting and snarling sickeningly above him. “Watch the teeth!” he snapped. “Now, move that tongue of yours, and suck, boy!” he ordered. Raven did his best to comply, having realized that the sooner he satisfied the man, the sooner this entire ordeal would be finished, and he could curl up on the ground and sleep, and try to forget the filth that had permeated his body at this man’s touch. His hands scrabbled uselessly at the ground beneath him, dirt digging under his nails and small scratches forming unnoticed on the tip of his fingers.

Again and again, the man hit the back of Raven’s throat, and the boy tried to relax the muscles so that he didn’t retch, with limited success. Still, the worst part was when the man groaned and forced himself as far down Raven’s throat as he could go. A thick, sticky liquid hit Raven’s throat, and then his tongue as the man pulled back out of him. Not knowing what to do, and not having much choice with the flesh still inside him, Raven did his best to swallow to avoid choking, tears and sweat soaking his face and neck as the man finished climaxing and pulled out with a satisfied grunt, the hands finally leaving his body.

“Not bad for your first time, boy,” he approved, and Raven couldn’t take it anymore. Turning to the side, he opened his mouth and threw up his dinner and the semen that had just been forced down his throat. His body was wracked with violent shudders as he first expelled everything he’d eaten that evening, and then suffered through dry heaves, his throat raw and his mouth disgusting. The men just stared down at him distastefully, their scorn and disregard clear. Raven couldn’t bring himself to care. After all, it wasn’t them in this position, now was it?

When his body finally settled a bit, he glanced up a little ways to see a bowl filled with lukewarm water being held in front of him. His hesitation lasted only for a moment; even if it was poison, he’d welcome the agony of the death it would bring to him. Still, it was only water, and he did his best to rinse out the other man’s foul taste, spitting it off to the side before drinking a few sips.

“Sleep for tonight, boy,” the second man offered him, holding out a blanket which Raven took, too tired and weak to argue. “I’ll try you out tomorrow, until you get used to us. Then you can service us both,” he smiled, and Raven closed his eyes, not wanting to see the two men any more.

He heard the men moving off to the other side of the camp fire and settling down, but he wasn’t under any illusions. There was no way he’d be able to escape this place and run away without them hearing him. And then, not only would he suffer for running, but so would his family. And no matter how angry and betrayed and hurt he was right now, he had no desire to know what these men might do to his parents and siblings if he were to try and flee his captivity.

Moving away from the mess, and circling the camp fire so as to be as far from the two men as possible, Raven settled down for the night, his eyes open and watchful. He was sure that he’d never manage to fall asleep tonight, afraid that the men might decide they weren’t done with him. Still, watching the fire burning down to embers slowly soothed him.

There was no movement from the other side of the fire, and his body was still exhausted from the emotional upheaval of being torn away from his family, and from the exertion of having to cater to the two men who would sell him to what could be an even worse situation than the one he was currently in. At least these men wouldn’t take his virginity in that way, simply because it would cause them to lose money on him. Still, that was but a cold comfort when he knew what awaited him the following night. And probably every night after that, until the day he was sold.

Finally, exhausted and unable to handle staying awake any longer, Raven’s eyes fell shut, and he tumbled into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares of pain and suffering and fear. Perhaps it was a nightmare that he’d never be able to wake from, one based on reality. Or maybe it was reality, and he just couldn’t differentiate any more. Regardless, it was one that Raven could see no end to, and he wept for everything that he’d lost, and everything that he’d continue to lose, until there was nothing left, and Raven himself ceased to exist. He only prayed that the day he stopped existing came quickly, and mercifully, because there was no longer any energy remaining to care about anything else.

Curled up in a ball, Raven dreamed, and prayed that he’d never wake up.