gay fantasy

Was so not ready to face that fucking crowd again- was hoping that today would go better then yesterday… After the way they had treated me, I was so scared of everyone that had been in that room- the entire point of the exercise was to hurt me as bad as they could to see if I would recover from it, and I had. The bruises were gone, my eye was completely better (and I had learned a very important, eye-related lesson) but my spirit was still broken and deathly afraid. If my master hadn’t been there- I’m pretty sure I would have been dead.

And I’m really afraid to go through with the test because of what it means- I worked in the stables, I know what a stud fee is- and I don’t know that I want to grow more slaves for people that… evil. I really wish I could say something about it. Why can’t I ever say anything? What the hell is wrong with me?

Same building, same smoke filled room, same expensive clothes- they had been cleaned at the bathhouse and I noticed that all the blood was gone- same blank expression on my face as I followed sheepishly behind my master and tried not to think. I was so nervous- I was never this nervous before a job. I didn’t want to be a stud…

I grabbed the tube as soon as it was offered to me, and held my breath as long as I could, blocked out the negotiations, everything but the sound of my master’s voice. I counted to 10 after every hit and closed my eyes, hoping that it would all be over soon and we could just go home- back to the safety of my tower- I was skittish as I ran my eyes over the crowd talking, looking for the elf I had seen before, but I couldn’t find him. Getting light-headed. Good. What was I talking about?

“Xaxac,” my master pushed me up, “Show these good people how well you’ve healed.”

I was much more relaxed with the drugs coursing through me, and managed to be far more graceful in getting my robe undone, slowly sliding off the tights, sliding them down over the boots so I could keep them on. My master indicated that I should turn around, so I did, slowly, and bent over like he had instructed me to do when we were alone- he hadn’t ordered it here, but it went over well- I thought then, that I might want to take up dancing.

There were murmurs amongst the crowd, I tuned them all out- I just wanted to leave, and the fear must’ve shown through on my face, because those dicks seemed to get off on it. Some expressed disbelief, like they’d never seen a fucking shifter before, but most were just speaking with my master, quietly- in what I thought was scheming way-as I straitened myself and looked across the room.

“Look, it isn’t going to do any good to rip him open like you did yesterday,” I heard my master say, “If you want to do that, it’ll be extra. And I still don’t want any permanent damage,”

“Any damage I cause, I’ll pay for,” I recognized the man who had cut my back yesterday.

“You can try him out, but I don’t want him damaged- it’s not a matter of money,”

I think I started shaking- it was suddenly cold.

“His cuts all healed, but we need to know- if you’re breeding him as a sex slave, we want to know that EVERYTHING has healed.”

“That’s ridiculous, you felt him yesterday- he wasn’t a virgin then.” My master seemed to be getting angry- they were calling him a liar, “If you want to try him out, you have to pay. There’s not going to be any free rides!”


My eyes grew wide as I watched the sheer amount of money being passed around. I bit my lip- something told me that if they were paying for me it was going to be even worse then yesterday. I wasn’t used to that level of abuse- but I would get through it- I would heal- it was all going to be alright- my master wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. I was trying my damnedest to justify it to myself.

“Xac- this gentleman wants to test your healing factor,” my master slid the gold into a pocket and I came back to my knees, facing where they were sitting.

He had pulled his pants down by the time I got there- deceptively quick for someone so big, and when I bent down to suck him, he grabbed my hair and pulled me into a kneeling position.

“Turn around” he order gruffly, and I sighed- dry? Why? What-the-fuck did that prove?

Whatever, I want to go home. Whatever gets it over the quickest.

He bore into me full throttle, with no lubrication- it must have hurt him the way it hurt me- even jacking off I’d rather have a little oil or something- but he bore over me, intent and seemingly happy- I could see his wicked grin in the corner of my eye- weighing me down- it was everything I could do to stay on my knees- I was to afraid of what he would do if I let myself fall. I was trying to disguise how badly he was hurting me- ignoring me- slamming into me with no regard for what he was doing- I was limp and trying not to cry- concentrating on keeping myself up, trying to close my eyes and focus on the floating, tingling sensation that I had a few seconds ago- not the ripping, searing pain…

But fucking shit, it hurt! Holy fuck, it hurt! It hurts, it hurts!

“Of course it does- your master was right- it’s like fucking a virgin,”

Shit, had I said that out loud?

“Every,” he announced the word with a deep thrust, “fucking,” another, and I couldn’t stop the tears from wailing up- didn’t he know that there were people watching us? “TIME!”

He was whispering now, but the tone was the same- I don’t know if anyone else heard him or not, but I don’t know how they couldn’t, “Cry you little bitch,” he hissed, “Tell me how bad it fucking hurts.”

How long was he going to do this? My knees were getting weak- my arms gave out and I fell to my elbows, pawing, clutching the carpet trying to think of… anything else.

He was ripping me open just as badly as he had yesterday- there was no reason for that! He fit! He wasn’t like the satyr- who DIDN’T rip me- he just needed a better pace, and I could relax; I could get off on this. As it was, every time I started to relax he changed pace, or grabbed another part of me, or hit me so hard it threw me back on guard. I really wish that someone- anyone would call him on it, but my master was watching silently- I couldn’t see him because of the death grip the monster had on my head, suddenly bashing me against the carpet so hard I felt my face scrape and begin to burn as he picked up his pace.

Maybe that means he’s almost ready! Please please please let it be over, let him cum! He seems ready-

“Cum inside me,” I begged, “please! Cum inside me!”

He laughed, “Goddamn, such a good whore- ripped and bleeding and still beggin’ for cum!”

Whatever- think whatever you need to, just let this shit be over! My ass, my fucking face- my arms he had pinned behind me- I can’t move my fingers- do I have any blood? Fuck fuck fuck fuck-

And he screamed- and exploded. He bore down on me so hard that I finally fell, and his full weight went to his hands, one still pinning my head to the floor, the other around my wrists, and I heard something snap- my angle changed and as he flooded into me, he slammed as deep as he could and made guttural, inhuman noises. I didn’t care about any of it- it was over- thank god, it was finally over.

He stayed there a few minutes, pulsating while I tried to milk his cock- but I didn’t really want him to enjoy himself, I didn’t really want his repeat business But I also didn’t want to earn a bad reputation. He spit on the exposed side of my face and I closed my eye to avoid it. I knew I was going to have a huge scrape across my other cheek- why the hell couldn’t I move my fingers? I tried to prop myself up with the hand that wasn’t pulsating and refusing me, but he held me firm even as he pulled out in one smooth motion.

When he let go, I rolled over to sit up, realized how badly it hurt and moved to kneel. I wiped the spit off of my face with my good hand (the right one) and tried to ignore the other and wait for it to heal. When I touched the left side of my face, it burned. I growled without realizing it.

“Now,” he commanded, “Come over here and clean me up,”

What? I looked around for towels or anything, but in the time it took me to realize that there were none, he pulled my head towards his lap- I put out both of my hands to brake my fall and immediately regretted it. I yelped as I pulled back the bad one. Was he fucking serious? I mean, I had taken a pretty rough treatment at the bathhouse this morning, so I knew I was clean, but… still… not to mention the fact that he was covered with my blood and his splooge. I don’t even eat meat- I didn’t know if I could really do blood and keep it down- especially considering… the situation…

He slapped me on the burnt part of my face. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. It tasted just as bad as I had expected. I tried to block it out, but my taste buds and stomach were both screaming at me- I just had to get through this, just had to finish it- this had to be the last thing from him. He was growing again in my mouth as I licked expertly, trying to get every nook and cranny- trying to leave him nothing to bitch about.

Finally, I knew that his shaft was clean, I couldn’t taste anything, no blood, not sweat, no seamen, no faint traces of anything else… I pulled back up with his hands still on my shoulders, crying freely now, as he stared down at me with this look of complete… dominance in his eyes… as if he owned me. I could hear him now, asking, “So, Max, how much do you want for this one?”

But I knew my master would never, never let that happen.

And on my faith, he chose that moment to speak.

“What’s wrong with your hand, Xac? Why won’t you let it touch anything?”

I tore my gaze away from the monster above me, “I think I… hurt it when I fell?”

“Is it broken?” he asked, and pulled me from the grip of my tormentor.

“I.. don’t know…” I admitted.

“Move your fingers, rotate your hand, like this,” he made a gesture where he moves his wrist in a circle.

I screamed in pain when I tried. It still wouldn’t move. My master’s eyes narrowed.

“You broke his wrist.” he spoke slowly, calmly, but there was a dangerous silence that accompanied his demeanor

“He heals,” the man responded.

“Yes,” master cut him off, “And if it heals incorrectly- if the bone isn’t set- then he will be damaged- permanently”

The man made no response.

“You,” my master continued, “are going to go with us and pay a healer to set his hand.”

Silence. The three of us stood- I really wanted something to drink or rinse my mouth out with.

“We will return and I am still willing to deal for the stud fee,” he said with an arm protectively around my shoulder, “His healing is obvious.”

And the three of us left, went into the carriage, and journeyed off to my first real visit with a healer.

July 2018
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