A special boy by chrissystriped

Sharû stood with his men in the cave and watched the slaves. Fresh meat. It was important to show presence so they didn’t get ideas. It were mostly elves of the new kind. Taller than the ones he had known until now and with a light in their eyes that almost hurt if they looked too long at you. Well, soon they would walk as bowed as their kin.

Sharû had heard that they had followed the King, they wanted the jewels from his crown. Hedcould only shake his head at so much unreasonableness. Did they really think they could take it up with King Melkor? He was a God! Sharû saluted Mormirion when he entered the room. Mormirion nodded at him, but he had no smile for him today, his face was hard. He had to get it across to the new slaves what they were now, he couldn’t show friendliness in front of them.

Not all of them would accept it immediately, but in time... Sharû had never met a slave that hadn’t bowed at last. Either they followed the rules or they died. Mormirion told the elves in no uncertain terms what was expected from them and also how any rebellious act would be answered. Sharû watched the new slaves closely, looking for troublemakers. He’d gotten good at reading the signs over the years and those were the ones he'd need to make examples of.

“Take them away and feed them, Captain”, Mormirion finally ordered. Softly he added: “Leave the little brown-haired one. Third row to the left, do you see him? He’s mine.”

Sharû followed the Maia’s gaze. He was smaller than the other elves in the room, maybe as tall as him, but much lighter built. Sharû nodded.

“Understood, sir.”

The boy’s grey eyes were wide with panic when Mormirion approached him. Sharû shrugged and gave his orders. The boy didn’t know it, but to have caught Mormirion’s eye just now was the best that could have happened to him. A Maia was better than several orcs.

“To the main cave”, he said to his soldiers and barked at the slaves: “Go! Hurry, you rats.”

He let his whip crack. It was better to be rough at first. They shouldn’t get wrong ideas. He could turn a blind eye now and then but they had to earn it.

It was late, the cave deserted after mealtime. It was a day’s march from Angband to the mines, if you hurried and pushed the slaves. These poor sods were on their feet since dawn. Sharû unlocked the storeroom and let hand out a piece of bread to everyone. “You won’t get more today. And from tomorrow you’ll get food according to your work. Better try hard!”

Sharû waited until all had eaten. He always paid attention that everyone got what they deserved.

“Follow”, he ordered and distributed the slaves to the different sleeping caves.

It was always crammed, even when they were shorthanded. When all slaves were placed, he let his men muster in the main cave.

“Hashtu, Draug, Merakh, Wormud. Patrol. The rest of you: don’t take it too far. Dismissed!”

There was grumbling from the four guards, they would miss the fun, but it couldn’t be helped. Sharû had already chosen one of the new slaves, but that had to wait for another day, too. He would stand on guard himself for the rest of the night. To make sure that the guard didn’t give in to temptation and to stop anything that went too far. Slaves were here to work. It was allowed to have a little fun with them but he didn’t allow excessive violence.

A while later, he just came back from his round, he met Mormirion coming from one of the caves.

“Was he good?”

Sharû grinned at him. He had only been able to take a glance at the elf.

“Oh, not bad at all. Very compliant.”

Sharû noticed with surprise that Mormirion had a small smile on his lips. Because of the slave?

“Taken by him, are you?”

Mormirion shrugged and winked. “Maybe. I didn’t have him for the last time. But I don’t want this to become common knowledge. I don’t need gossip about it.”

“Of course, sir.” Sharû bowed. “So he’s free to use?”

“As every slave. Let him be a few days. He’s a little rattled.”

“They all are at first.” Sharû shrugged. “Are you becoming soft?”

Mormirion shook his head. “No, but he was obedient. It’s rare for one of them to not need any... persuasion. That can be rewarded.”

Sharû was a little surprised. He hadn’t given him a direct order, but he did understand.

“I’ll make sure that no one touches him the next few days, sir.”

Mormirion nodded. “Quiet watch, Captain.”

Sharû watched the boy who stood in line, waiting for the bowl of soup that was his dinner. He knew that Mormirion saw him once a week and Sharû wondered at it. Yes, he was pretty but most elves were and time made all slaves submissive. The mines didn’t leave strength for defiance.

Sharû sauntered over to the line of waiting slaves that shied back from him. No one wanted to be the object of his desire. Sharû laid his hand on the boy’s nape and felt the muscles tense under his fingers. He stroked the skin with his thumb.

“Come to my room after you’ve eaten.”

He had to write reports and the slave would be a reward for the work, something to look forward to. And maybe he would find out why Mormirion paid him such special attention. He’d already taken him once, but this time he wanted to take a little more time with him.

“Yes, Master”, the boy answered in this lilt from the other side of the sea, a language smoothed by peace.

Sharû ordered the guards to let the boy pass later and walked back to his office. He didn’t like the paperwork, but it was part of the job, he wasn’t a common soldier anymore, he could put up with it for the benefits that came with a higher rank. Sharû wrote today’s report before turning to monthly data. Mormirion wanted to know exactly how high output was, how many slaves had died – and from what -, how much food they consumed... Sharû scratched his head with a sigh. A soft knock made him look up.

“Come in!”, he said with raised voice and stretched.

The boy shivered a little when he closed the door behind himself.

“Have you eaten?”

He wanted to be sure that the guards hadn’t been too overeager. It wouldn’t be the first time that a slave had been brought to him without dinner. He had made clear what he thought of that, but you couldn’t be careful enough. The boy nodded.

“Yes, Master.”

He knelt, his hands laced behind his head.

“Strip, slave.”

He only wore dirty trousers anyway, his chest was bare. Sharû rubbed his writing hand, his fingers were a little stiff from holding the pen. The boy hurried to obey.

“And remain standing”, Sharû added, he wanted to look at him.

Mormirion already seemed to have knocked the shame of being naked out of him, he didn’t try to cover himself and didn’t back away when Sharû came around his desk and reached between his legs.

“Very good, slave”, Sharû praised and fondled his soft cock.

Not that he expected the slave to get aroused by it, he just liked to caress the velvety skin. His hand slid lower and played with the slave’s balls.

‘You are mine’, his hand said.

He closed his fist around the sensitive appendages to see how the slave reacted to pain. The boy whimpered but he didn’t try to get away, not even when Sharû pulled down a little.

“Very good, slave”, he repeated and patted his thigh.

He noticed with interest that the boy’s cock had filled slightly. He lifted his eyebrows. Was this the reason why Mormirion was so fascinated by the elf? Sharû slid his hand up his chest to his nipple and teased the nub with his fingertip. The slave took a shuddering breath, his cheeks flushed. Sharû gripped the nipple between thumb and index finger and twisted it hard. The slave gasped, his body tensed – and his cock twitched. Sharû  liked his lips and continued with his exploration of the slave’s body. Someone was downright begging for a burning arse, he thought.

Sharû walked around the slave, three fresh welts glowed red on his shoulders, they weren’t bloody. The marks on his ass interested Sharû much more, but.. patience. He wanted to play.

“What did you get these for?”

He pressed a finger against one of the welts and tugged at his trousers with the other hand, his cock strained against the leather.

“I stumbled, Master”, the boy answered with trembling voice.

“And these?”

Sharû moved closer and squeezed his buttock. Yellowish marks, already healing, that didn’t come from a whip. The slave blushed furiously.

“That... The Master Mormirion did this, Master. But it wasn’t punishment.”

“He likes to beat you, yes?”, Sharû asked with a grin. The boy nodded quickly. “What did he beat you with, slave?”

Sharû licked up the rim of his ear, he was still kneading the slave’s ass.

“A crop, Master.”

The boy sounded a little breathless. A look over his shoulder showed Sharû that he was getting hard. He laid his arm around his waist and pulled him close so he could feel his erection.

“And you, slave? Were you aroused by it?”

“No!”, the boy answered, too quickly.

His face had turned dark red, Sharû grinned at himself. Perfect. Now he had a reason to give him a thorough spanking.

“Hm, a lie, slave?”

He rubbed himself against the slave’s backside, only a small relief. He wanted to shove himself into him, now – but he wanted to play, too. Patience.

“Do you know what I do to liars?”

The boy’s lips trembled.

“I’ll give you another chance”, Sharû whispered, his lips touching the slave’s ear. “Answer truthfully and you’ll get away with a sore ass. Did the beating arouse you?”

“Yes, Master”, the boy whispered, a tear ran down his cheek, Sharû licked it away.

“Nothing to cry about, elfling. Now, be a good boy and bow over the table and we’ll be even with fifteen slaps. Maybe you’ll even like it.”

Sharû let go of him and the boy made a step to the desk and laid his chest on the tabletop. After a moment of hesitation he spread his legs far enough for Sharû to have easy access. Sharû teasingly slid his finger up his cleft before giving him a light slap.

“Good boy. Stay like this.”

He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and took out a leather paddle. Exactly the right tool for a nice red arse.

“Very well, boy. Fifteen slaps for your lie. You don’t have to count but you are allowed to scream if you have to.”

The boy trembled and whimpered softly and because he wasn’t really angry at him – he had made him stumble into this trap, after all – Sharû caressed his back.

“Don’t be afraid, elfling”, he said gently. “It won’t be so bad.”

He lifted his arm for the first slap and the slave jerked when the leather met his backside.

Mablung moaned softly and squeezed his eyes shut when yet another slap met his burning backside. ‘It won’t be so bad’, the orc had said. And in a way it was true. Punishment usually meant pain much worse than this. He’d felt the whips of his overseers and since a few weeks ago, he also knew what it meant to be punished by Mormirion. This was... not like it. Mablung’s cock throbbed.

He hadn’t wanted the orc’s touches to arouse him, he was a little afraid of him, but he had started this so slowly. He wasn’t used to that from an orc, they usually just shoved him up against a wall or started right away to beat him. The Captain had caressed him – hurt him a little, too, but in that strangely pleasurable way, Mormirion was teaching him – he’d not been violent or cruel. ‘It won’t be so bad’, he had said when he'd realised how afraid he was.

A spark of pleasure shot through his body when the paddle met his skin again. The orc’s bulging muscles had scared him, but he wasn’t hitting as hard as he could have. Mablung wondered if this really was a punishment. Yes, he had lied to him and it was foolish to lie to his Master, but the orc had not sounded exactly angry when he’d noticed it.

Maybe he was deluding himself, but maybe... maybe this was just the orc’s definition of fun... It was so hard working this out while he was beaten and pleasure coursed through his body. He berated himself for not counting, he had no idea how much time he had left.

He had asked him, if he liked being beaten. Was he like Mormirion? Did he want him to be aroused? Mablung shuddered when the orc’s calloused hand slid over his burning skin.

Sharû caressed the reddened skin before sliding his hand between the slave’s legs. The slave’s cock lay hard and hot in his hand.

“Your punishment is over, slave”, Sharû said, “but judging from this”, he rubbed his thumb over the hard flesh, “you don’t have had enough, yet. Did you like the paddle, elfling?”

“Yes, Master”, the boy whispered hesitantly.

“Good boy.” Sharû continued to stroke him. “Learned your lesson, did you? And do you want more? Do you want me to make your arse glow?”

The boy shivered and gave a sob. “I... I don’t know”, he whimpered desperately.

Sharû let go of his cock and stroked the tangled hair from his face.

“You are mine, aren’t you?”, he asked gently.

“Yes, Master”, the slave answered immediately and Sharû groaned at the rush of power that coursed through him at this willing show of submission.

“Very good, elfling.” Sharû bowed over him and kissed the tears from his cheek. “I give you permission to like it. I permit you to want more. Do you want more?”

The boy closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.

“Yes, Master. Please, make my... my arse glow.”

Sharû felt his heart beat quicker for this brave boy. Yes, maybe he understood now why Mormirion liked him so.

“With pleasure, slave”, he whispered into his ear before straightening and picking up the paddle.

He frequently checked between smacks if the slave was still hard and gave him a few rewarding strokes. His own arousal wasn’t forgotten, but it was worth it to draw it out a while longer. Only when the slave’s ass glowed dark red and he screamed with every slap did Sharû change the paddle for an oil bottle. He freed his spear from his trousers and slid it along the slave’s cleft before oiling himself generously. The slave was a little tense and gave a moan of pain when he pushed in. Sharû didn’t stop. Only when he was buried completely inside him, his belly touching the slave’s sore, burning ass, did he pause for a moment.

He gave the slave time to get used to his girth – and he would have come on the spot, had he moved just now. Sharû groaned, his eyes squeezed shut. A bead of sweat ran down his nose and landed on the slave’s back as he fought for restraint. The boy was so damn hot! He started with slow thrusts until he found the right angle and the boy reared up with a groan.

Sharû grinned. “Good, yes? You are mine”, he repeated and emphasized his words with a hard thrust that made the slave gasp. “You are allowed to like to be beaten. You are allowed to like to be fucked by me. You are allowed to moan. And when you are ready you are even permitted to come.”

Sharû slid out almost completely before thrusting in again, his movements becoming faster. He fucked him hard and deep – and the boy actually moaned and not from pain. Eventually the boy jerked under him, he made a whimpering moan as he came and his tensing muscles took Sharû over the edge.

Sharû pulled out. The boy’s shoulders trembled and he caressed his back, careful to not put pressure to the welts. He didn’t want to hurt him now.

“You did well, elfling. I’m very pleased with you.”

The boy sobbed silently, but then Sharû felt his shoulders tense and the trembling stop as he pulled himself together. Sharû was impressed. The boy was indeed a boy, almost a child, but he had something... an inner strength maybe. That might be attracting to Mormirion, too. Sharû knew that there were people in Angband who would have found pleasure in breaking this strength, but Mormirion wasn’t like that – and he wasn’t either. Sharû pointed at the washbowl.

“You may clean yourself. Then you can go.”

The slave moved stiffly, but Sharû knew that he hadn’t hurt him badly. Sure, his ass was burning and he was possibly a little sore, but that would go away during tomorrow. It was probably much harder for him that the pain had aroused him and that he had found release with Sharû buried inside him. He didn’t do this voluntarily, after all.

Morally, it would have been much easier for him if he hadn’t enjoyed it. He would keep an eye on him, Sharû decided in this moment. The boy was too good to lose him in some hole and Mormirion would surely agree. He shook his head. It was a mystery to him why the Maia didn’t claim him for his own.

Mablung limped back to his sleeping place. The muscles of his thighs felt stiff and the trousers rubbed over his sore skin. And... Mablung bit his lip and tasted blood. The orc had thrust so hard into him that he felt as if he were still inside. At least he had been allowed to wash himself, at least he wouldn’t wake with the smell of the orc’s stale cum.

He squeezed his eyes shut to stop himself from crying again. Why had he asked the orc to continue? Why had these burning slaps felt so good? And the sensation when the orc entered him almost a relief – something that he had longed for. What was wrong with him that he felt like this? He was a slave! Little more than a thing to use for his masters – who were his enemies. He shouldn’t wish to please them. He shouldn’t feel pleasure to be touched by them and the pain shouldn’t arouse him.

Mablung looked around to make sure that no guard was close before leaning against the rock of the wall. He couldn’t go back into the cave just now, he was too shaken. No one should see how he felt. They would be sympathetic, they would try to comfort him. But they wouldn’t understand why he was crying and he didn’t want them to know. Mablung leaned his forehead against the cool, slightly wet rock and breathed deeply.

‘Accept it.’ Mormirion’s words. Mormirion wanted him to be aroused when he was with him. It was, what made a good, obedient slave to him. Mablung had accepted it before, he could do it again. ‘I give you permission to like it’, the orc had said. Did that give him the freedom to... enjoy it without a sense of guilt? His body was no longer his own, he was the possession of the men who used him.

Mormirion had made very clear to him that he wasn’t allowed to come without his express permission. The orc had given him the permission to be aroused. Wasn’t that the same? Could he see it that way? Mablung decided that he had to if he didn’t want to give up. And he still feared death more than life. He straightened, wiped the tears from his cheeks and walked to his place. Finban woke when he laid down beside him.

“Are you hurt?”, he whispered.

Mablung shook his head. The orc had been rough, but he hadn’t injured him. They snuggled close against the cold and although Mablung had though until a short time before, that he couldn’t sleep a wink, he fell asleep soon after.

“You nursed him when he was hurt, didn’t you?”

Sharû hadn’t seen the boy – he wasn’t really a boy anymore, but he still thought of him like that, he didn’t ask names – for a week. Not since he had limped past them with a sprained ankle. Mormirion had taken him with him that night – and since this morning, a week later the boy was back in the mines.

“Why didn’t you keep him? Did he anger you?”

Sharû couldn’t imagine that. For his part, the slave would have to flat out deny him to make him angry. It was always very fulfilling to fuck him.

“No, he didn’t anger me.”

Mormirion lifted the wine glass to the lamp and admired the colour. The Maia had invited him for a glass, he sometimes did and Sharû never said no. The wine was the best he ever got and he liked Mormirion.

“Then why? I don’t understand, why you don’t claim him for yourself.”

“I just don’t have the patience to always have a slave around. It’s a distraction.”

“But a pleasant one.” Sharû winked at him and Mormirion laughed.

“Quite true, but it means, too, to always have an eye on his behaviour. I set rules that I would have to enforce around the clock if he lived here. That’s too stressful for my taste.”

“Seen from this angle... Still, I don’t understand, why you are content to share a slave you obviously like very much, with a bunch of orcs.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to watch.” Mormirion grimaced. “That would disagree with my sense of... aesthetic.”

Sharû felt his face heat. He knew that he wasn’t handsome, but to hear it said aloud was still not a good feeling.

“But it doesn’t bother me to share him, especially not with you. It has benefits to have a... let’s say, well used slave. He is always ready for me. I don’t have to spend much time to prepare him for me.”

Sharû grinned. “You mean, if I fuck him it is to your benefit? That might just be the favourite of my duties.”

Mormirion returned his grin and touched his glass to Sharû’s.

“Here’s to further successful cooperation, Captain.”

Sharû chuckled. “It’s my pleasure, Sir.” And it really was. Not only the thing with the slave.

Mormirion was of one mind with him, concerning the treatment of the slaves. They both thought it was better to keep them in relatively good health so they could work better. Some things had become harder since the King was back, General Artano had more time for the mines now and that wasn’t good. Mormirion seemed to see it that way, too, but Sharû couldn’t say it with certainty, he didn’t talk with him about it. He still was his superior and at the end of the day, the Maiar would stick together. He couldn’t risk to anger him.

But he could have had much worse luck with his superior. What other Maia would have invited an orc to a drink? What other Maia would have shared his favourite slave? Sharû didn’t believe that it was just laziness as Mormirion had said, he could have made different arrangements if he didn’t want the slave around all day and still keep him for himself. He wondered what was the reason, but he didn’t ask. Mormirion clearly didn’t want to tell him.

Mablung groaned silently when he saw the overseers waiting for them with scissors in their hands. Like every evening, they’d had to deliver their quota and watch the punishments – almost every day someone was punished – and now they’d have to wait for their meal until their hair was cut.

Mablung gulped. He hated these days. Yes, it was almost impossible to keep his hair clean and not matted – and it was easier for him, because Mormirion let him bathe every time he had him – but this was so degrading, so... objectifying. One of the overseers waved at him and Mablung obeyed without a word, kneeling down beside him. The orc gripped him harder than he’d have needed to, Mablung didn’t intend to fight, but he didn’t complain.

He closed his eyes when the scissors cut through his hair, the sound made him feel queasy – the sick feeling was even worse because his stomach was empty. He winced when the tip of the scissors pricked his skin. The overseers were not careful, they worked quickly and usually he looked like a plucked chicken afterwards – Mormirion wouldn’t like it. At least the blades were sharp, blunt scissors usually meant that more hair was torn out than cut – making the procedure even more painful. He was relieved when the orc let him go and pushed him away so he could reach for the next slave.

Sharû stood with a few of his soldiers and watched the hair-cutting of the slaves. On days like this there was often some unrest, many slaves took the cutting needlessly hard. Sharû, who wore his hair as short as possible so it didn’t get in the way, had never really understood it. But when he thought of the boy’s beautiful locks, it really was a shame.

The boy was just kneeling down before one of the overseers, Sharû watched him. He had closed his eyes and made a face as if he were in pain, but he didn’t fight – it would have surprised Sharû if he had. No matter what he did to him, he was always docile. The boy stood up and got in line for his meal. Sharû didn’t leave him out of his sight while he sat on the floor and ate his soup. And as if he’d felt his eyes on him, the boy turned his head and looked at him – only for a moment before he lowered his gaze again. One of his friends sat down beside him and said something. Sharû was too far away to understand them. It didn’t take long for one of the overseers to snap at them and they turned back to their meal.

Sharû waited until they had emptied their bowls, then he passed the command to one of his subordinates and walked to the boy. The boy shivered when he dragged his nails lightly over his scalp.

“Come, elfling”, Sharû murmured and led him to his room. The boy knelt before him when Sharû sat down on the bed. "Has your foot healed, elfling?”, he asked.

“Yes, Master”, he answered softly. “Master Mormirion was so merciful to heal me.”

“Good, good.” Sharû caressed his head again. His freshly cut stubble felt like velvet on his palm. “It would have been a shame to lose you.”

The boy trembled and Sharû berated himself for reminding him what an injury could mean in the mines.

“Relax, elfling, we’ll look after you.”

Mormirion and he wouldn’t let him die. Sharû scanned the boy’s head for cuts. The boy hissed when he dipped a cloth in spirit and dabbed the cut above his ear with it, but he didn’t move. Sharû caressed his cheek and lifted his chin.

“We don’t want it to become infected, hm?”, he said and kissed him slowly, enjoyed how the boy’s lips opened for him.

The boy moaned into his mouth when he traced his spine with his nail. Sharû bowed him over his thigh and the boy made a startled sound. For a moment his muscles tensed, his body’s instinctive reaction, before he relaxed. Sharû pulled his trousers down and slapped his buttocks a few times before caressing the reddened skin. The boy thrust against his thigh furtively and Sharû grinned at himself. He gave him another slap before rubbing his finger over his entrance.

“Hm, should I fuck you right now or first spank you a little more? Decisions, decisions... What do you think, elfling?”

The boy whimpered longingly. “It is your decision, Master, but...”

The boy’s shoulders blushed and Sharû could imagine that his cheeks had blushed, too.

“But? Elfling?”

Sharû pulled him into an upright position to be able to see his adorably embarrassed face. The boy bit his lip.

“But...” He groaned when Sharû closed his fingers around his arousal. “But if you want to know your slave’s wish... I’d like it if you take me right now.” His voice faltered because Sharû stroked him quicker.

“Did Mormirion teach you to talk so stilted, elfling?”

“Yes, Master”, the boy answered. “My Master Mormirion likes it that way.” He gave him a worried glance.

“I’m just a simple orc, elfling.” Sharû continued to stroke his cock and the boy’s eyes closed halfway. “Speak bluntly to me. I’m not angry with you. Now... you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, Master”, the boy gasped. “Please, fuck me, Master.”

He whimpered when he let go of him and Sharû grinned.

“That’s better, elfling. Get on the bed”, he said and stood up.

The boy hurried to obey, his ass lifted and his legs spread. Sharû slapped his reddened skin again before he dipped his fingers in oil and slid them inside him. The boy was relaxed and Sharû enjoyed, like he always did, that he didn’t have to use force – he never took it for granted. He kissed the boy’s neck, nibbled at his skin, while he prepared him and the boy stretched his neck so he had better access.

Sharû entered him slowly, enjoying the heat encircling his cock.

“You feel so good, elfling.”

The boy moaned without shame as Sharû thrust into him and pleasure shot through Sharû’s body. It was such a turn on that the boy was aroused, too – and by now the boy wasn’t ashamed about it anymore. Sharû closed his hand around the boy’s cock again and felt him shudder violently, his muscles tensed around him and Sharû moaned with pleasure, thrust harder into that wonderful heat and came shortly after.

The boy came only when Sharû gasped the permission to do so into his ear. He knew that Mormirion demanded that of him - he had found out when the boy had begged for forgiveness a while ago, after he’d come too soon. It didn’t mean anything to him, to exact this kind of control, he cared to much about the boy being aroused at all, but he didn’t want to confuse the boy – and he didn’t want to disturb Mormirion’s plans – and so he stuck by it.

He caressed the boy’s back with long, firm strokes and the boy snuggled into him. Sharû liked the sweat off his skin, he liked the taste and the smell of sex around them. Maybe he’d fuck him again later, but not right now. Sharû had realised that the boy enjoyed to cuddle and he was happy about the total absence of fear such a behaviour proved. This was so much more satisfying than to rape a crying, fighting slave. Sharû caressed the boy's cropped hair gently. He was so glad that Mormirion was ready to share the boy with him.

Sharû and Daghed were on their way to the main cave when the drums sounded. The workday was over. Daghed was captain of the mine wing north-west, they visited each other now and then to exchange experiences – and to brag a little. Sharû had shown him last month’s reports with pride. No rebellious impulses, few dead, high output.

“If one catches your eye...” Sharû winked at his comrade.

Daghed huffed. “They all look the same. Maybe you can see differences when they are fresh, but after a few weeks...”

Sharû shrugged. He was right. The slaves shuffled along in a long line of bowed backs. Their skin grey with dirt, only interrupted by the red welts of whiplashes. Sharû tensed when one of the soldiers slapped a slave’s face so hard that the elf stumbled to the floor.

“Been lazy?” Daghed sounded malicious.

“Looks like it.” Sharû grimaced.

It was Mablung, surely it was related to them watching for  cave-ins threatening to happen.

‘I can’t protect you today, elfling’, he thought with regret.

He watched his men tie Mablung to one of the poles that stood in the middle of the cave. The punishment wasn’t meted out right now. First inspection, then the punishments of the day, and only then the distribution of food.

Mablung’s shoulders burned like fire, he was drenched in sweat. They had worked until the last moment to manage the quota for the elf that watched for fissures in the ceiling – but today they hadn’t made it. At least it was more than half of the quota, only fifty instead of a hundred lashes. It wasn’t the first time, but at the other occasions Sharû had reduced the sentence.

He couldn’t hope for leniency today, Mablung had seen that Sharû had a visitor. The captain couldn’t allow himself to seem weak – or to show too much interest in a slave. His own soldiers knew of course that he had an eye on Mablung, he had him often enough. But if it became common knowledge, it could get dangerous – for the orc and him. He wasn’t the only one to be punished today, but he hadn’t expected that. Something always came up.

The waiting was almost as bad as the punishment itself, not as painful but not less nauseating. Mablung tried not to listen, but the hissing of the whip, the tearing of skin and the moans of the elf beside him bored into his mind. He felt himself tremble and clenched his fists to suppress it. Orcs despised weakness, and at the same time they respected courage even of a slave. If he could keep himself from screaming, if he managed to walk away on his own two feet, it would earn him his guards’ leniency tomorrow.

Mablung pressed his forehead against the smooth wood and breathed through his nose when the first lash came down on his back. Mormirion had beaten him yesterday, he hadn’t bled, but his skin was already sensitive. The pain of the lashes tore through his body, blazing white like lightning. It was not like Mormirion’s beatings – it never was like it was with Mormirion, this was a real punishment. He had learned the difference a long time ago.

Mablung gritted his teeth so hard it hurt. He knew that it would give him relief to scream, but it would cost him the soldiers’ respect and he couldn’t afford that. Blood rand down his back and soaked the dirty rag he wore around his waist. When it was over, Mablung leaned against the post and closed his eyes. He knew that he would remain tied to the post until the last slave had gotten his bowl of soup. He could rest until then, brace himself. He was nauseous with pain and hunger.

Sharû’s torch lighted the sleeping cave of the slaves. It was already late, but he had gotten finally rid of Daghed and he wanted to see if he could help Mablung. The boy looked up when he stopped at his side. He had been awake.

“Can you walk?”, Sharû asked softly to not wake the other slaves.

“Yes, Master.”

The boy staggered to his feet, Sharû could see his fear.

“Daghed is gone”, he murmured. “I only want to tend to your back. Come.”

The boy stumbled after him, Sharû was glad that his room wasn’t far, he didn’t think that the slave would be able to remain on his feet for long.

“Lie down, elfling”, he said gently when they had reached his office. “You don’t have to be strong anymore.”

He was deathly pale and trembled, but he gave him an unbelieving look at his words.

“You despise weakness”, he said but lowered himself on the bed and buried his face in the cushion.

Sharû laid a hand on his matted hair. He knew that it was brown and curly when it was clean. It was a shame, but Mormirion and he knew that a clean and combed slave would draw too much attention.

“It’s okay, elfling.” He caressed his head. “You bore your punishment valiantly.”

Sharû filled water in a bowl and started to wash the blood off the boy’s back.

“I would have made it easier for you, but Daghed mustn’t see that I like you.”

He shouldn’t apologize to a slave, but he felt bad for it.

“You can stay here tonight, have a good night’s rest.”

And maybe he would even keep him here tomorrow. If he didn’t show up himself, his men would jump to the conclusions they should.

“The salve burns like fire”, he warned the boy. “But it will stop an infection.”

The boy whimpered when he spread the sticky substance on the open welts.

“Are you hungry?”, Sharû asked finally.

He hadn’t had time to organize something, but he always had a little emergency store in a drawer of his desk. The boy nodded almost unnoticeably and sat up gingerly. Sharû offered him a few slices of rusk and a strip of dried meat that was eyed warily. Sharû smiled wryly.

“I can’t promise you that it isn’t what you think it is, but I think it’s goat considering the taste.”

The boy blushed a little.

“Thank you, Master”, he murmured before he devoured the meagre meal in a rapidity that spoke volumes.

“I’m afraid I don’t have more.”

The boy shook his head.

“Thank you, Master”, he repeated and slid from the bed to his knees. His finger fumbled with the laces of Sharû’s trousers.

“What are you doing, elfling?”, he asked with a crooked smile.

“Thanking you, Master.”

Sharû shivered when the boy stroked him through the leather.

“Mablung...”

The boy stopped, surprised that he remembered his name. Sharû caressed his cheek.

“You are hurt and exhausted, you need sleep. You don’t have to do this today.” 

Mablung usually didn’t look his masters in the eye, Mormirion had trained him well, but now he lifted his gaze and their eyes met.

“Allow me to thank you, Master, please. It wouldn’t feel right if you don’t want me and I couldn’t sleep.”

Without waiting for an answer he bowed his head and dragged his teeth over Sharû’s leather clad cock. Sharû groaned, his restraint fell overboard. This boy...

“Not standing up.”

He didn’t want to be tempted to just grip the boy’s hair and fuck his mouth. He sat down on the bed and leaned back.

“Take your time.”

Sharû let his head fall back when the boy’s soft lips closed around him. Oh, he knew what he was doing.

“Yes, like that”, he encouraged him.

He laid his hand on the back of his head, not to push him down, just to rub him behind the ear. He held his breath when Mablung took him in completely and his nose brushed the coarse black hair at his crotch.

‘I stink’, flashed through Sharû’s mind – and he probably wasn’t tasting very good either. The boy didn’t seem to mind. Nothing about him seemed to bother him. Of course every slave treated him with respect or fear, but Mablung never looked at him like the other slaves – or most Maiar. ‘You are ugly’, their eyes said, Mablung had never looked at him like that. And he had even told him, why... Such a special boy.

A shiver coursed through Sharû when the boy’s tongue lapped at the slit and he couldn’t think anymore. His fingers clenched in the matted locks when he came in his mouth. Mablung didn’t jerk back, he swallowed his cum and licked him clean. Sharû enjoyed the feeling as his heartbeat returned to normal. He pulled the boy on the bed and kissed his reddened, full lips, slid his tongue into his mouth. The boy received him eagerly.

Sharû laid a hand on his cheek, caressed the rim of his ear with a finger. He felt Mablung shiver and smiled. His hand slid further down, along his neck, played with a hardening nipple and stopped on his belly, just above the boy’s cock. The boy whimpered into his mouth. Sharû bit down on his lower lip. He was surprised that he was getting aroused when he clearly was in so much pain, but there was no reason to not let him have his pleasure.

“So wanton, elfling? Although your back is bloody?”

Sharû gently dragged a finger along the rim of one of the welts, he couldn't stop himself from playing a little. The boy took a shuddering breath.

“Yes, Master. Your slave is a lewd creature.” His voice was husky.

Sharû smiled at himself. He didn’t want to torture him. “Do you want to come, elfling?”

“If...” The boy gasped for breath when Sharû wrapped his hand around him – his cock twitched in his grip. “If it pleases you, Master.”

Sharû licked his ear. “I don’t want to know what you think I want. Do you want to come, elfling?”

The boy arched his back and cried out when he dragged his thumb over the wet head.

“Yes, Master!”, he moaned. “I want to come. Please, Master.”

“You may, elfling. I give you permission to come.”

Sharû kissed him again. He stroked his arousal gently, kissing and nibbling his jaw and the boy came over his hand. Sharû continued to nibble on his lips when he slumped. Sharû wiped his hand on the blanket and kissed his forehead.

"Now sleep, elfling.”

The boy's eyes closed and shortly after Sharû knew from his deep breathing that he had fallen asleep.

Mablung's eyes were gummy when he woke, he had a disgusting taste in his mouth. He moaned softly. His head was throbbing and the fresh welts on his back were a dull pain that would only sharpen when he moved. The day would be hell, but he had to stand up now.

“There’s a water jug on the floor next to the bed. You must be thirsty.”

Mablung winced at the words. He had forgotten that he had fallen asleep in Sharû’s bed. He rubbed across his sticky eyelashes to finally be able to open his eyes and blinked at the orc who sat at his desk, writing.

“What time is it?”, he croaked.

“None of your concern”, Sharû answered gruffly but then he smiled at him. “Your overseer knows that you spend the time with me. You don’t need to work today. Drink.”

Mablung obeyed. The water tasted of minerals but he was used to that. It chased the bad taste from his mouth and ran blissfully cool down his throat. Sharû stood up and came over.

“How do you feel?”

“Shitty”, Mablung answered and laid his head back on the cushion. "Master."

Sharû laughed softly. “I can imagine. Let me look at your back.”

Mablung shivered in the cool air when the orc pulled back the blanket. Sharû said nothing while he washed his back again and put fresh salve on the welts. Mabung was once more surprised how gentle these big hands could be. Sex with Sharû was almost always rough, but the orc treated him in a way that never made him feel worthless. He often caressed him after, let him know that he had done well. Mablung closed his eyes when the orc’s hand stroked his hair.

“Why are you doing this, Mablung?”, Sharû asked softly. “It doesn’t give you an advantage to take the punishment on you.”

Mablung opened his eyes again. He was still surprised that the orc had memorised his name.

“If I didn’t, someone else would have to. How could I ask that of anyone? They are my people, Master. And...” Embarrassed Mablung fixed the corner of the cushion right in front of his eyes. “I know that you and Master Mormirion take care of me as you do now. You wouldn’t let me die from my wounds. The others don’t have that protection.”

Sharû stayed silent for a long time, still stroking his hair, then he said: “That’s because the others aren’t ready to pay the price for this protection.”

Mablung knew what Sharû meant. He had encouraged Sharû to use him yesterday in the hopes that the orc would allow him to sleep in his bed. He knew that few other slaves would have dared to provoke one of the masters like this. Some orcs would have seen it as an invitation to hurt him. But he knew Sharû better than that.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Sleep.”

Mablung closed his eyes obediently. His body would heal better if he rested.

Next time he woke, he smelled food. Sharû still sat at his desk but there was a steaming plate in front of him. Mablung’s belly growled, but he didn’t dare to say something. He didn’t deserve food. Sharû looked up.

“Are you hungry, elfling?”

“Yes, Master”, Mablung murmured.

Sharû didn’t say something to that, just continued eating. After a while he brought him the plate.

“Eat. I’m not hungry anymore.”

It were potatoes and meat again whose origin Mablung didn’t want to know. It was better in general to not think about what they were eating.

Sharû watched the boy devouring the rest of his lunch. He was aware that the rations the slaves got were meagre and Mablung had only gotten his reserve yesterday. Sharû’s gaze wandered down the skinny body. He had sat up to eat, the blanked wrapped around his hips. Sharû could count the ribs even from a distance and he felt pity, but when his eyes slid lower, to the point where his thigh vanished under the blanket, another emotion woke in him.

Sharû buried his fingernails in his palm. No. He had used him yesterday against better knowledge. The boy was hurt, he had just learned to hide his pain well. He hadn’t kept him here to satisfy his desire on him. He wanted him to be able to rest and he wouldn’t touch him today – although the boy was surely waiting for it.

Sharû turned back to his papers. That wouldn’t distract him but he could at least act as if he didn’t heed the boy. Only that the boy seemed to not want to make it that easy for him. Mablung put the empty plate back on the desk and knelt down beside him. His movements weren’t as dancing as usual, only that showed that his back pained him. Sharû patted his head.

“Lie down again, elfling. I have to work.”

Although he’d have loved to do something else. The boy hesitated a moment, but then he seemed to think better of it – or maybe it just took him longer to get back on his feet than usual – and laid down. Not that Sharû could concentrate better now. He had lain beside him all night and the boy’s smell was in his nose. He couldn’t concentrate on the numbers, all he saw was the pale skin of the boy under his hands, his body arcing into his touch.

Sharû shook his head. He didn’t want to use him now, the boy was in pain, he was better than that. He was an orc, but he had a heart and maybe even a conscience, he wouldn’t touch the boy now. Sharû shifted around on his chair to get more comfortable.

“Close the curtain”, he ordered a little more harshly than he had wanted.

His scent would still be in the air but at least he was out of his sight. The boy obeyed silently and Sharû relaxed a little. He wanted to help him, not hurt him more. He was just glad that the boy usually healed quickly.

Mormirion had spread out the map of the mines on his dining table. It was a little unusal that they met at the Maia’s home for work, but Sharû didn’t ask. Perhaps it meant that he would be able to enjoy a glass of that excellent wine.

“If we continue to dig here, we should achieve good results.” Sharû tapped at a tunnel branch.

“Are you sure?” Mormirion looked down on the map thoughtfully.

“My... source thinks so and he is rarely wrong.”

Mormirion smiled. “I’ll look into it. Your source? Mablung?”

Sharû nodded before it occurred to him that he had just admitted that he knew the slave’s name. But it wasn’t as dangerous with Mormirion as it would have been with another superior. He liked Mablung, too, after all. It still surprised Sharû, after all this time, that Mormirion didn’t seem to mind to share the slave with him. But he had gotten used to the Maia not acting as he was used to from other Maiar.

Somehow they had become friends, despite the difference in rank. It had come from Mormirion, Sharû would have never dared to approach a Maia without invitation. He had visited him in the mines when he was on watch, or in his office. Mostly they talked about work, but Mormirion also was interested in his family and Sharû felt save enough with him to tell him about his siblings.

And sometimes they also talked about the slave they both liked so much. Mablung... He had sent him back to work yesterday, after he'd let him rest a day and another night. It wasn't enough for him to heal, but he was in less pain than he had been. Sharû looked forward to their next encounter. The boy never failed to please him. And yes, that was partly due to Mormirion’s training. He was able to enjoy a trained slave because Mormirion didn’t keep him to himself.

“Speaking of him.” Mormirion looked at the clock that stood on the mantelpiece. It was a marvel of cogs and weights. “He should be here any moment.”

“I suppose, I should leave then.” Sharû understood a dismissal if he heard one, but to his surprise Mormirion shook his head.

“Stay. We aren’t finished here.”

Sharû opened his mouth in surprise. Stay? Just for work or... No, he couldn’t mean that. Sharû turned around when he heard the knock and Mablung came in after Mormirion called him. The boy’s gaze shot back and forth between them before he lowered his head and knelt down. Mormirion came around the table and caressed his head.

“Wash yourself then kneel down here again. The captain and I have a few things to discuss. But after we’ll have time for you.”

‘We’... Sharû gulped. He always wanted Mablung and Mormirion was... Mormirion was so high above him that he didn’t dare to think of him that way. It was incomprehensible to him why Mormirion wanted him to take part in this. He surely didn’t find him attractive. Sharû knew what he looked like. He was an orc, he wasn’t beautiful.

Sharû could barely concentrate on Mormirion’s words, his ears were pricked for sounds behind him. He wanted to know when the slave came back.

“Very well", Mormirion finally said and rolled up the map, putting it back in its leather case. “Let’s turn to more pleasant things, shall we?”

He winked at him and Sharû turned around to see the boy kneeling on the floor. He had been so quiet that he hadn’t heard him come back. His hair was damp, his skin clean and so pale that it almost looked translucent. Sharû gulped. He was really very fond of the boy, he had even told him about his parents. Could he really have meant it? That he could imagine Sharû as an elf? He shouldn’t like it. He was orc, he shouldn’t have anything in common with an elf, but Sharû knew that that wasn’t true.

‘They are your family, too.’ The words of his mother that he heard again and again in his head, when he saw the injustice with which the slaves were treated. He prevented the more ugly excesses in his reach, but he couldn’t act too openly and... who was he kidding. He fucked them, against their will, that was wrong, too. Sharû shook his head. He wasn’t an elf, he was orc and he wouldn’t deny himself his pleasure. And the way the boy looked made his blood stir.

Mo’s finger ghosted over his neck and left a hot trail. Sharû tried to suppress an excited shiver. He... was he really allowed to?

“Touch him”, Mormirion whispered into his ear. “I want to watch you touching him.”

Sharû’s mouth was dry. The boy looked up when he lifted his chin, his eyes were doubtful. Sharû smiled at him, he didn’t have to be afraid of him.

“Stand up.”

Mablung was small for an elf and Sharû looked down on most orcs, they were almost of one height. Sharû kissed him slowly, he felt that the boy was a little tense and he couldn’t blame him for it – he wasn’t as relaxed as usual, either. He was very aware of Mormirion’s attention on them. Sharû massaged the boy’s neck, his damp hair cold on his hand and kissed his skin, Mablung leaned his head back and shuddered when Sharû bit his shoulder.

His free hand caressed up his side, down his back - gently, aware of the fresh welts - and closed around a buttock. The boy’s breath quickened, a subdued moan escaped him. Sharû pushed his thigh between his legs and the boy rubbed his growing arousal against him. The boy’s hand reached shyly between his legs, touched him through his trousers, Sharû hummed approvingly, his nose played with the boy’s earlobe while he nibbled at his skin.

The boy moaned softly and Sharû realised that Mormirion had come to them, his fingers teasing the slave’s entrance.

“You are so beautiful together”, the Maia said, caressing Mablung’s cheek. “Pale skin and dark.”

Sharû jerked in surprise when Mormirion caressed his cheek, too. Beautiful. No one had ever said that to him – well, maybe his mother, but that didn’t count. Mormirion licked the rim of the boy’s ear.

“Undress him for me, slave.”

Mablung’s grey eyes met Sharû’s for a moment but he averted them immediately again. His slender fingers loosened the ties of his leather cuirass. Sharû caught one hand, following an impulse, kissing the fingertips. Mablung had beautiful hands, he felt sad that they were covered in scars and calluses. When his chest was bare, the boy knelt down, rubbing his face against his crotch, his hands slid up his legs. Sharû tensed when Mormirion stepped behind his back, his warm hand sliding up his spin.

“Sir...”

“Shh”, Mormirion hummed. “Don’t think so much, Sharû. You are desirable, let me share this with you. Unless you really don’t want to.”

Sharû’s laugh turned to a moan. The boy had pulled his trousers down and wrapped his fingers around his cock. Of course he wanted to! He had never dared to fantasize about Mormirion but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t have wanted to. The Maia embraced him from behind, he was still dressed, but Sharû could feel his hard cock against his backside. A spike of fear shot through his body. He had never been fucked. He wouldn’t see it as dishonourable because Mormirion was a Maia, but still... His thoughts were distracting when Mormirion gripped the boy's hair and said:

“Open your mouth, slave.”

It was completely different from the blowjob a few days before, when the boy had ‘thanked’ him. Today it was Mormirion that set the pace, decided how deep the boy had to take him in. Sharû looked down, Mablung was completely relaxed, let himself be led, and he was hard. Sharû let his head fall against Mormirion’s shoulder, his knees weak.

“He is spectacular, isn’t he?”, the Maia whispered, his breath hot against his ear. “Such a talented mouth... he can take so much of you, although you are so well endowed.”

Sharû moaned loudly when Mormirion pulled the slave closer and his cock slid down his throat. A moment he held him like this until he pulled him back again, allowing the slave to breathe again. Sharû’s hips jerked. Not long...

He realised that Mormirion thrust slowly against him, his cock hot and wet on his back and sliding along his cleft, but he didn’t try to enter him. Sharû moved against him, thrusting deep into the boy’s mouth. He gripped Mormirion’s arm when he came down the boy’s throat.Mormirion groaned into his ear.

He felt the boy swallow around him and wet heat on his back that told him that the Maia had come, too. Mormirion let go of the boy’s hair and he sank back on his heels. Sharû saw that he was trembling – with desire. His cock was hard, the head glistening wet.

“Thank you for this, my friend”, Mormirion said and kissed his shoulder.

“I have to thank you.”

Friend. Was that really what he was? A Maia’s friend. The boy uttered a small whimper. He felt Mormirion’s smile on his skin.

“What do you think, shall we allow him release?”

Sharû never left him wanting. He served him so well, why should he refuse him his pleasure? But he knew that Mormirion’s tastes were a little more... complicated and if he was honest, it was very erotic to see the boy like this. His skin flushed and glistening with sweat, his eyes dark with desire. The small, desperate sounds he made... He understood, why Mormirion made him wait.

“He deserves it, I think.”

“Me, too. Come, slave.”

To Sharû’s surprise, the boy moaned loudly, his head thrown back and came – without a touch. And this sight was even more erotic than his waiting. ‘Come’. Just that one word. How had Mormirion done this?

“He’s perfect”, Sharû mumbled.

Mormirion laughed. “At least he’s very good at pleasing his Masters. Isn’t it so, boy?” He ruffled his hair. The slave blushed.

“As my Master says”, he answered. He shivered when Mormirion tugged on his hair.

“Clean the captain, slave”, Mormirion ordered.

Sharû needed a moment to understand what he meant: Mormirion’s release that ran slowly down his back and buttocks. Sharû closed his eyes with relish when the boy’s tongue licked over his skin. He had just come but it wouldn’t take long for him to be ready again if this continued.

“Very good, elfling”, he said gently and rubbed him behind the ear as he knelt down before him again.

Everything had been perfect this evening. He didn’t believe that he knew another slave that would have allowed this to be done to him so willingly. Oh, most would have obeyed, but Mablung was... different. Sharû dressed and turned to Mormirion to say goodbye.

“Can you bring him back for me?”, Mormirion asked with a smile.

“Of course, Sir.”

Sharû smiled back. He had very much enjoyed this, and that was due to the Maia’s presence, too.

~*~*~

Sharû barely remembered to knock before he rushed into the Maia’s office.

“Is it true?”, he asked out of breath. “Did the King take the boy with him?”

Mablung. He knew his name, but the knowledge was still so fresh, he had called him ‘boy’ and ‘elfling’ for decades. Besides, he felt more comfortable not speaking the name to others, even Mormirion. The Maia looked tired, he rubbed his eyes.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Sharû had heard it this morning. He had been on his day off yesterday, had visited his sister. She was pregnant again. When he had heard about the cave in he had immediately thought of Mablung, the elf had predicted it. Slaves had died, still buried under the stone. Sharû had had a bad feeling and when one of his soldiers had told him, that the King had been present, his blood had turned to ice.

‘Snatched your favourite’, he had said. ‘You won’t see that one again.’

Sharû slumped. It was true. It hurt in a strange way, the knowledge that he would never see the boy again. He didn’t know much about the King, he had only seen him from afar once, the glowing jewels had hurt his eyes, but he knew that he hated the elves. Sharû wondered, if Mablung would have rather stayed here, if he had been given a choice.

“So he is gone”, he croaked and rubbed his eyes, moisture remaining on his fingers.

“Yes, he is.” Mormirion cleared his throat. “Forget him, Sharû. Take another one. There’s not that much difference between slaves.”

Sharû thought that Mormirion sounded as if he struggled to follow his own advice.