Fiction: The Prize part 1

[kethni]

Name: Prize part 1/3

Rating: 18

Pairing: Matt/Mohinder, Matt/Adam implied

Note: From boudecia7’s kink prompt of ‘Prize, auction, restraints, gags, pushy bottom, pampering, snark, and toughness.’

 

 

 

 

The slave market is a jostling, heaving mass of people. The various stalls sell the old, the weak, and the infirm but the best and healthiest slaves are at the auction house. The crowd parts unwillingly to allow the small military entourage to pass through.

 

Adam snorts a breath as he takes his seat beside Matt.

 

“If you have something to say, say it,” Matt says wryly, eyes focused on the currently empty stage

 

“No, no, why should I ever have any comment about wasting money on fripperies.”

 

“It is my money to waste,” Matt answers. “If waste it is. Many others of lesser rank have a bigger household.”

 

Adam nods agreeably. “But they do not take them on campaigns.”

 

“Nonsense, who does not take slaves with them? Even you would not be without slaves to feed and dress you.”

 

“General!” Adam protests. “That is not the same and you know it. Those slaves are useful, not entirely for pleasure.”

 

Matt’s foot taps idly on the ground. “I am of an age and rank to think I might be permitted what pleasure I choose. I think that I am minded to the pleasure of a pretty, soft slave to warm my bed.”

 

Adam shifts on the bench. “You have slaves.”

 

Matt shakes his head and snorts. “I don’t want some battered, broken household wreck. I want something fresh and tender. Hold now, we begin.”

 

The auctioneer ushers out a selection of slaves; young men and women who trudge across the stage with glazed, vacant eyes. Save the last; a male slave, dark and slender with the brand of a repeat runaway on his shoulder, who stares defiantly at the assembly.

 

Matt smiles. “Now that is a pretty slave.”

 

 

 

The dark haired slave with a collar tag marked ‘MP’ sneers as he looks over the newly purchased slave, ignoring the glare he receives in return.

 

“Thin, don’t you feed it?” he asks the slave master. “Or does it have parasites?”

 

“It’s the nature of the race. It eats and is healthy. The warranty for its health is good; there are no defects. Your master will have no complaints of that.”

 

“Then what?” the slave retorts.

 

The slave master spreads his arms wide. “It is marked for running away; the brand is clear and visible. Your master knew that when he made the purchase.” He shrugs. “But it is skilled; it is a scholar, speaks and reads our words, knows physic, is trained in the pleasing of a master.”

 

“The pleasing it all that matters, the General wishes to be pleased. He has little patience for faulty merchandise, and those that sell it.” Nathan hands over the money and checks over the written warranty and bill of sale he’s given.

 

The slave master gestures at the slave. “Here, you listen? This is Nathan, chief slave of your new master’s house. Here to take you there.”

 

“Ought I to prostrate myself at his feet or merely kneel?” he asks dryly.

 

“What name do you go by?” Nathan asks.

 

“Mohinder,” he says, standing straight and looking Nathan up and down. “Whose bed am I expected to serve in?”

 

Nathan snorts and shakes his head. “The master only; a General does not share, mark me.”

 

“I would not be shared,” Mohinder retorts. “If a General buys me for his bed then a General I deserve.”

 

Nathan looks at the slave master. “Does it always talk so much?”

 

“It has been beaten as much as can be done without marking it too much. Your master has conquered countries; one soft slave should be no difficulty.”

 

 

 

The house is large and guarded by a host of armed slaves. In the courtyard there are a dozen heads on pikes going black and leathery in the hot sun. Birds are perched on some pecking at the open eyes. Mohinder has to be dragged past them, staring in silence.

 

“What are those?” he asks, eventually.

 

“Master’s enemies,” Nathan says with a shrug. “Mercy is for women and children. You would do well to remember that.”

 

They walk into the servant’s entrance of the house and Nathan dismisses the guard.

 

“What happened to the last slave he bedded?” Mohinder asks quietly.

 

Nathan shakes his head. “He hasn’t before. If you get crucified it will be of your own account.” He purses his lips and looks Mohinder up and down. “That will never do. Claire!”

 

A young blonde slave walks over, flicking her hair behind her ear.

 

“Yes Father?” she asks in a bored tone.

 

“He lets you breed?” Mohinder asks, surprised. “Without selling the children on?”

 

“The General is a fair master,” Nathan says shortly. “Claire, this is Mohinder. He is to serve in the master’s bed.”

 

Claire raises her eyebrows. “Does Adam know?” she asks lightly.

 

Nathan’s mouth quirks up. “No gossiping now and certainly none of that.” He counts out silver pieces into her hand. “Buy him something more appropriate and have him made fit for Master. He returns tonight.” Nathan glances at Mohinder. “I dare say he will want to examine his new purchase then.”

 

 

 

“Ow!” Mohinder complains as Claire drags the comb through his hair.

 

“If you cared better for it then it should not pain you so,” Claire says tartly. “Your purpose is to serve in bed so keep yourself made and dressed for Master’s pleasure.”

 

“What pleases him?” Mohinder asks sulkily.

 

Claire raises an eyebrow. “Not a house slave certainly. We’re too worn, our hands are too rough, and our bodies too tired. Keep yourself soft and be yielding and he will be pleased enough. The master does not beat us without reason and dislikes slaves that cower as kicked dogs.”

 

“I do not cower,” Mohinder sneers.

 

“A slave may be as bold as he wishes,” Claire says archly. “Before other slaves.” She picks up a slave collar with a large tag on. “Bend forward so I can bolt this on.”

 

“What does it say?” Mohinder asks suspiciously. “There is more on there than my owner’s initials.”

 

Claire smiles at him sardonically. “It says ‘I am a slave who runs away. Catch me and return me to my master. You will be rewarded’. Perhaps you would you prefer a brand on your forehead?”

 

“But then I would not be so pretty and the master would be angry,” Mohinder says sweetly.

 

 

 

Matt sits back on the couch and takes the goblet of wine Nathan holds out to him.

 

“How is the new slave?”

 

“Scarcely broken, Master,” Nathan says wryly. “But he seems minded to please in his duties.”

 

Matt smiles and sips his wine. “He talked back to you?”

 

“Yes master,” Nathan admits. “He also asked a great many questions.”

 

“About?”

 

Nathan smiles slightly. “About the household; the rules and customs and about you, master; your mood, your manner, how to please you.”

 

Matt finishes his wine and puts the goblet down. “I like those questions,” he says with a smile. “Bring food, wine, and the slave to my chambers.”

 

“Yes Master.”

 

 

 

Mohinder looks at himself in the polished brass and smoothes the delicate, colourful tunic.

 

“I have never seen cloth this bright before,” he muses. “Silk also, is it not only for the rich?”

 

 Claire shrugs. “The master is rich. He can dress you in gold and silver if it suits him.”

 

Nathan walks into the room and looks Mohinder up and down. “The master wants you. Claire, give him a jar of oil to take with him.” Nathan tuts at them both. “Quick now, do not keep the master waiting.”

 

 

 

Matt is sprawled across his bed picking at the plates of fruit, bread, and cheese. He sits up when the door opens and Mohinder walks in.

 

“You wanted me, Master?” Mohinder asks, smiling sweetly as he walks to the bed.

 

“Turn, let me see you,” Matt says, leaning forward.

 

Mohinder turns in a circle. “Perhaps master would like to examine me more closely?” he suggests.

 

“What are you called?” Matt asks, pouring another cup of wine.

 

“Mohinder, Master.”

 

“Sit with me,” Matt says, patting the bed. “What does your name mean?”

 

“Great rain, thunder god,” Mohinder says, sitting down very close. “Does this please?” he asks, looking at Matt from under his lashes. “I wish to please.”

 

Matt takes a bite of a juicy peach and then holds it to Mohinder. Mohinder leans forward to take a bite, his eyes fixed on Matt’s. He lifts his hand, places it over Matt’s, to hold the peach steady as he bites.

 

“Nathan says you are hardly broken,” Matt says mildly. “That you are insolent.”

 

Mohinder wipes juice from his chin with the back of his thumb and swallows the fruit. “Have I been insolent to you Master?” he asks sounding hurt.

 

Matt smiles at him. “This purple colour suits you.” He runs his hand up Mohinder’s leg, over the bare skin and then pushing up the robe to caress his hip. “Have some wine.” He hands the other man the cup. 

 

Mohinder takes a deep draught, smiling as Matt’s hand strokes his other leg.

 

“Thank you, Master.”

 

“Well mannered when the mood takes you I see,” Matt says holding up a strawberry to Mohinder’s mouth.

 

Mohinder sucks the strawberry into his mouth and pulls it from the stalk. He chews slowly and puts his hand over Matt’s hand, resting on his hip.

 

“I can be as well or poor mannered as you wish.” He slides Matt’s hand onto his thigh.

 

Matt’s other hand cups Mohinder’s face, his thumb caressing a path across Mohinder’s cheek down to his mouth. “Such a soft thing aren’t you?”

 

“Does Master not want me soft?” Mohinder asks, batting his eyes.

 

“Was not a complaint,” Matt promises.

 

“I do not think I could be hard or rough,” Mohinder says, pouting.

 

Matt laughs. “Oh, I think you could be whatever you chose.” He clicks his fingers at the attending slaves and they move to silently clear the platters from the bed. “Open your legs for me,” he says to Mohinder.

 

“What position Master?” Mohinder asks, sitting up and using the oil to prepare himself.

 

Matt stands up and pulls off his robe. “Come here.”

 

Mohinder stands up and sighs quietly as Matt slowly slides the silk robe over his head.

 

“Do you like the garment?” Matt asks.

 

Mohinder blinks and presses up against him. “Oh yes, Master. I like pretty things.”

 

“Then we shall have to see you have them.” Matt’s hands roam over Mohinder and he leans down to kiss him. He pulls away, turns Mohinder around and pushes him down. “Lean on the bed.”

 

Mohinder sets his arms and legs wide to hold his weight evenly. Matt rubs his hand down Mohinder’s back and slaps Mohinder’s ass lightly. Mohinder growls in complaint and Matt laughs.

 

“You don’t like that?” he asks, moving behind Mohinder.

 

“No master,” Mohinder says. 

 

Matt’s fingers grip his thighs. “Bite your tongue now,” he says, entering Mohinder. “Good pet.”

 

Mohinder’s head drops down as he rolls his hips back. Matt grunts in pleased surprise. 

 

 

 

Matt moves under the covers and pats the bed. “Come here.”

 

“Master is too kind,” Mohinder says. He crawls across the bed on all fours like a cat, throwing mischievous glances at Matt.

 

Matt strokes his hand across Mohinder’s back as he moves. “Playful too, perfection. Lie down.”

 

Mohinder slides into bed and turns to face him. “Like this?”

 

“Other way.”

 

Mohinder rolls over and looks over his shoulder as Matt spoons behind him.

 

“Go to sleep,” Matt says, closing his eyes.

 

“Yes Master.”

 

 

 

Mohinder wakes at the rattle of dishes. Matt’s fingers tickle under his chin until he sits up, rubbing his eyes.

 

Slaves sit on the bed holding platters of bread, cheese, olives, fruit, and honey.

 

“Have you had honey before?” Matt asks.

 

“No Master,” Mohinder says, peering at it.

 

“Taste it,” Matt suggests, tearing off a hunk of bread and eating it with cheese. “It’s sweet.”

 

Mohinder tears a tiny piece of bread and smears honey onto it. He takes a small bite and his eyes widen.

 

“Too sweet for you?” Matt laughs.

 

Mohinder shakes his head, mouth now full of bread and honey.

 

“Greedy little pig aren’t you?” Matt laughs, reaching for the olives.

 

Mohinder grins back at him and takes a goblet of water from the tray. He takes a sip of water and leans against Matt. “Do I displease you, Master?”

 

“Try these,” Matt suggests, stroking an olive around Mohinder’s lips. “Not sweet. A taste to learn.”

 

Mohinder opens his mouth obligingly. Matt laughs at the expression of disgust that passes across his face.

 

“More for me then,” he says happily.

 

Mohinder tries to spit out the stone without Matt seeing.

 

“This will take away the taste,” Matt promises, unpeeling a tangerine and pulling apart the segments.

 

“Thank you Master,” Mohinder says leaning forward and ducking down to pull a piece of tangerine from Matt’s fingers.

 

Matt rubs a hand over his back. “Open your legs for me.” He snaps his fingers at the slaves to clear the food away.

 

Mohinder quickly swallows the fruit. “How?”

 

“On all fours.”

 

Mohinder picks up the oil and prepares himself before crouching on the bed. Matt ruffles his hair and kneels up behind him. Mohinder wiggles and groans quietly as Matt enters him. Matt grasps his hips and pulls him closer as he thrusts into him.  

 

 

 

Mohinder watches as Matt is dressed by Claire.

 

“Does Master have tasks for me?” he asks.

 

Matt shakes his head. “No, amuse yourself.” He tips up Claire’s face and she listens attentively. “Show him anything he wishes to see and give him any amusements.”

 

“Yes Master.”

 

“Might I go to the market?” Mohinder asks.

 

Claire tries to smother a scoff which Matt purposefully ignores.

 

“If you need anything it will be bought for you,” Matt says blithely. “Keep yourself ready for me.”

 

“Yes master,” Mohinder says, forcing a smile.  

 

 

 

Mohinder wanders into the kitchen and opens the pantry door.

 

“Are you lost?” asks a cold voice.

 

He takes a plate of dressed dormice from the shelf and turns around. A dark older female slave, casually holding a large carving knife, looks him up and down. “Put that down,” she says acidly.

 

Mohinder delicately lifts a dormouse and takes a bite. “Very good. Yours?”

 

“Nathan!” she calls. “There is an intruder.” She turns back to Mohinder and smirks. “Let’s see what my son says.”

 

Mohinder finishes his dormouse. “I warm the master’s bed so think on who is more valued, a crabbed and decrepit old cook or a fresh young slave of pleasure?”

 

Her eyes narrow. “Nathan!” she yells again.

 

Nathan walks into the kitchen, already frowning. “Must you scream like a horse being gelded?”

 

Angela thumbs her teeth at Mohinder. “This slut walked in here, stole food, and cheeked me.”

 

“I was hungry,” Mohinder says, smirking at her but speaking to Nathan. “Master said to amuse myself.” He looks at Nathan and takes a deliberate bite of another dormouse. “It amused me to come and find something to eat.”

 

“Go to your work,” Nathan says to Angela.

 

Mohinder leans back against the wall and finishes the dormouse. He holds the platter out to Nathan. “Put that away for me.”

 

“Don’t think because you make coitus with the master that makes you special,” Nathan growls, snatching it. “You’re a slave like the rest of us. Nothing more or less.”

 

“Then beat me for my insolence, put me to work,” Mohinder challenges. 

 

“Go back to the master’s bedchamber and wait for him.”

 

“You cannot,” Mohinder crows. “The master would be most displeased to have me marked in any way. So, run along and let me do as I will.”

 

 

 

 Matt looks over the map and drums his fingers. “And how much do elephants eat?”

 

Adam shrugs expansively. “I rather imagine they eat a good deal, large as they are.”

 

“Do you still have that slave, the pretty one with the head for things of this nature?” Matt asks.

 

Adam turns and makes a ‘tch’ sound at the slaves there. “Fetch Charlie.”

 

 

 

“What are you doing?” Claire asks suspiciously as Mohinder bundles up a tunic into a sack.

 

“None of your business.”

 

Claire folds her arms. “You’re no better than me. Don’t talk to me like you are.”

 

“It distresses you to be too worn and used for Master to want you,” Mohinder says, shaking his head. “Or anyone else. Don’t feel bad. He wouldn’t want you anyway.” He catches Claire’s hand partway through its arc and smiles at her. “Hold, the master would be unhappy if you marked me.”

 

Claire kicks him sharply in the shin and pulls her arm free. “Explain that to the master!”

 

 

 

“I ought never have let you have Charlie,” Matt complains good naturedly. “Curse my agreeableness in letting you have your pick of the artisans during the last campaign.”

 

“I do recall that you took yourself your head slave and his family,” Adam protests. “No poor deal there.”  

 

“Now, now, you already had yourself a full household complement,” Matt says. “What would you have done with them?”

 

“I might have had some sport with the younger male,” Adam says complacently. “What do you use him for?”

 

“He was in charge of physic for the others but he caused too much unrest,” Matt says rolling his eyes. “Now he opens his legs to all and by appointment; less arguments that way.”

 

“You spoil your slaves,” Adam says, shaking his head. “Most masters would not allow coitus, let alone arrange for it unless to breed.”

 

Matt snorts. “Allow it or not it will happen. It is better to have it controlled.”

 

Charlie enters the room and stands with her head inclined submissively.

 

“What did we want her for now?” Adam asks sheepishly.

 

Matt slaps his arm. “Charlie, do you know how much an elephant eats?”

 

She purses her lips and looks up at the ceiling. “Three hundred kilograms of grasses a day or sixty of hay, carrots and breads or grains a day, General. They drink between one and three hundred litres of water also.”

 

“That is a great deal of food,” Matt says wryly.

 

“Hmm,” Adam agrees. “Yes, and yet it is preferable to horses which will struggle in the heat. Certainly we cannot use horses to carry everything.”

 

 

 

“Hey!” the guard slave shouts, squinting at the barely visible shape scaling a tree. “Hey! Come back here!”

 

 

 

Adam blinks as Charlie walks back into the room. “Is there something else?”

 

“Nathan is here to see the General, Master,” she says nicely.

 

Adam raises his eyebrows and looks at Matt. “This does not augur well. Send him in.” He turns to Matt. “You are not surprised, however?”

 

“If it is not news that an attempted runaway has been caught I shall be most surprised.”

 

Nathan walks into the room and waits politely.

 

“Speak,” Matt orders.

 

Nathan grips his hands together. “With regret Master, the pleasure slave attempted to escape. He had foods and money secreted about his person.”

 

“What have you done with him?”

 

Nathan shrugs. “Merely locked him in your bedchamber, Master. I was awaiting your word on what form of punishment to administer. A beating or scourging will risk permanent damage.”

 

Matt nods thoughtfully. “Purchase a cage that is big enough for him to stand or lie down in. Put it in the bed chamber and cage him in it.”

 

“With respect Master,” Nathan says lowering his voice. “A disobedient slave must be punished. There will be dissent if not and he will try again.”

 

“Then gag him, blindfold him, and chain him,” Matt says evenly. “Prevent him trying again.”

 

“Master,” Nathan says stiffly.

 

“He thinks you’re letting the creature off lightly,” Adam observes after Nathan has left.

 

“He may think as he wishes,” Matt retorts. “It does not inhibit his work.”

 

 

 

Matt snatches the goblet of wine from the tray Nathan is holding and downs it in one. Nathan silently refills it.

 

“Some days, Nathan, some days I do wonder if it was worth rising from my bed.” Matt rubs his forehead and takes another sip of wine. “Is Mohinder in the bedchamber?”

 

“Yes Master.”

 

“Take off the blindfold and the gag but leave him in the cage. Tell him I’m tired and sore and of no temper for nonsense.”

 

“Yes Master.”

 

 

 

Mohinder lowers his eyes submissively when Matt walks into the room. He moves to the back of the cage and waits while the door is unlocked.

 

“Hold up your arms.”

 

Mohinder puts his hands together and holds up his arms. Matt unbolts the heavy manacles and then kneels down to unshackle his ankles.

 

“Come out,” Matt orders, leaving the cage.

 

Mohinder walks out slowly; stretching his arms as he goes.

 

Matt pulls his tunic over his head. “You know physic?”

 

“Uh, yes Master,” Mohinder says, surprised.

 

Matt sits down on the bed. “Look at me.”

 

Mohinder raises his eyes.

 

“Do you know how to soothe pain?” Matt asks, rubbing his shoulder.

 

Mohinder starts forward. “Yes Master, might I?”

 

“Do, do with alacrity.”

 

“I need some oil.”

 

Matt waves a hand and closes his eyes. “Ring for a slave to fetch some.”

 

Mohinder rings the bell and cautiously moves to the bed. He sits behind Matt as Nathan enters the room.

 

“Master?”

 

“The master needs scented oil that I can use on his skin.”

 

“Master?” Nathan asks again.

 

“Tch, don’t behave like children,” Matt complains.

 

Nathan reddens and Mohinder smirks at him over Matt’s shoulder.

 

“Yes Master,” Nathan says shortly and leaves.

 

Mohinder runs his hand over Matt’s back. “Would we lie down please?”

 

Matt turns and lies down.

 

“Difficult day, Master?” Mohinder asks.

 

Matt looks at him over his shoulder. “This is part of the healing?”

 

“Yes,” Mohinder admits.

 

“Hmm.”

 

Nathan enters the room and shoves a jug of scented oil at Mohinder.

 

“Why thank you,” Mohinder says sweetly. He straddles Matt’s waist and then tips oil into his palm and warms it quickly.

 

Matt groans as Mohinder smears his hands over his shoulders. Mohinder pushes his knuckles deep into the tensed muscles.

 

“We need to try and ease our muscles,” Mohinder urges. “Like water flowing, yes?”

 

Matt snorts and his body relaxes. “It hurts.”

 

“Most physic is hurt-filled,” Mohinder says, moving down his body. “Less painful than this I think.” His fingers skirt a scar across Matt’s back. “A sword blow perhaps?”

 

“Axe, I was blessed it was not deeper. As it was, it were bloody and painful.”

 

“Where was that?”

 

“Britainia, cursed place; cold and wet with poor food and little sport. At least we are not going there.”

 

Mohinder adds more oil and focuses his attention on Matt’s lower back. “Going?”

 

“Mmm,” Matt murmurs, shifting happily under him. “We go tomorrow. I will at least have some amusement on this campaign.” He rolls over to face Mohinder and smiles up at him. “Your people enjoy the heat?”

 

Mohinder blinks at him. “I... yes master. It is cold here for me.”

 

Matt strokes his hand up Mohinder’s thigh. “You shall be happy then.” He smiles lazily and reaches up to tickle under Mohinder’s chin.

 

“Master is too kind,” Mohinder says unhappily.

 

“Open for me.” Matt says, nodding at himself.

 

“You wish me atop to be penetrated?” Mohinder asks surprised.

 

“Are you incapable?”

 

“No!” Mohinder says, offended. “No, master,” he amends quickly. He prepares himself and leans forward on his arms to support himself.

 

Matt rubs Mohinder’s thigh in slow circles. “Deeper.”

 

Mohinder’s face creases and his eyes close. He lowers himself completely and then pulls up a little.

 

Matt stares at him; his eyes hooded and dark as Mohinder builds up a rhythm.

 

 

 

Mohinder flinches as Matt pins him to the bed; his hands held over his head and his legs held down by Matt’s.

 

“Master? Did I not please?” he asks.

 

“Very pleasing,” Matt says calmly, his free hand, stroking Mohinder’s side.

 

“I could please more if I were free to move,” he suggests.

 

“I decide what will please me, not you.” Matt pinches Mohinder’s nipples. “You are a very bad slave.”

 

“Forgive me?” Mohinder asks, trying to force the fear from his voice. “I beg forgiveness master.”

 

Matt smiles at him. “I’ve known your sort before. Impossible to break without killing; beatings and whippings are meaningless. Worse than that because they scar you and that is my loss.”

 

“Please, please master, please don’t kill me,” Mohinder begs, squirming on the bed. “I promise to be good.”

 

Matt rubs his thumb over Mohinder’s mouth. “I ought to, as an example to the others. But you were very costly, are very beautiful, and are obedient while in my sight if nothing else.”

 

“Am I not also very agreeable in bed?” Mohinder asks, pouting.

 

Matt laughs and bites softly at Mohinder’s neck. “You have no shame do you?”

 

“I have never found a use for it.”

 

“Most agreeable in bed,” Matt agrees. “When not in bed... then to the cage.”

 

“Cage?” Mohinder asks, squirming. “Master, please, please...”

 

Matt gags Mohinder with his hand. “I will not debate with you. I have spoken.” He takes his hand away and sits up. “Food, I think.” He leans over and rings the bell.