A special boy by chrissystriped

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Chapter Four

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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.