FOR SERVICES RENDERED

Chapter Two

Farid had never had a master like this one before. He knelt in the bath while his master washed him? It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Normally he got hosed down when he was dirty in the yard outside. He had never in all his life been touched like this, so kindly, so gently. Although he had bathed plenty of men, he had never had a bath himself as far as he could remember, and he could not help luxuriating in the feel of the warm soapy water as it lapped against his sore limbs and anus.

When Farid had been sent to his new master last night, he had been curious, as all slaves were when they were given to someone new. Last night the man had been scary, scowling at him and using Farid roughly. But Farid was used to that. His pleasure had never mattered to anyone before. He had been treated far more harshly than this in the past, but on the whole, he had not often been used that roughly. Yet no one had ever tried to make amends to Farid. He was a slave; sex was what he was here for, however it came.

When Master had been vomiting, Farid had panicked because he was supposed to serve him no matter what. The fact that his hands were still tied or that his arsehole burned like it was on fire, why that didn’t matter at all. So he had scrambled over to the tall English man in terror to see what he could do. But then his master had been gentle with him, so gentle. Farid, felt tears prickling the back of his eyes, when his new master Severus had placed his finger gently on his lips and hushed him like a mother would her child. Farid had never had that, not even when he was a small child himself. All Farid could remember from those days was a dark cupboard and hatred and dislike.

But this man was his new master, and he was the kindest man that Farid had ever known. Maybe he would really like him, if Farid could look after him properly? Maybe he would take him away with him back to England? Farid thought he would like to go there. He knew that a long time ago he had come from England himself. Farid could not help himself: for the first time in a long time, he began to have hope. Hope that he would survive, that he could be with someone who cared for him, and that the feelings he was already beginning to feel for his new master would some day be returned.

How could he not hope that? His Master looked at him with such kindness, such concern, almost as if Farid were something beautiful and fragile; when Farid knew he was neither. And still, he washed Farid’s body gently, tutting over the bite marks and bruises. Farid thought it was almost worth getting them in the first place in order to be so tenderly treated.

Farid peeked at him from under his smoky eyelashes, yet Master did not seem to mind as he smiled at him and talked in soft tones. Of course, he could not understand half of what Master was saying, but every so often words would make sense. “Good boy,” and “Ssshhh,” he understood those. He put his fingers to his lips to trace where his master had touched him and smiled secretively to himself. He knew that he had indeed lost his heart to this strange man with the big nose and the greasy hair. Farid had last night, in the space of a moment, fallen deeply, irrevocably in love.





Severus finished washing the boy, soothing away all the blood and come and gently cleaning the bites and bruises. The young man was stunning; his skin was soft and silky, unblemished apart from the wounds that he had cruelly inflicted the night before. Severus could not help himself, he wanted to stroke that velvet skin, run his fingers along the ropey plaits with the little silver bells and beads and ornaments that had been woven through them. This boy was going to be very hard to leave behind, very hard indeed.

He could see that Farid was watching him. Although he was trying hard to hide his naked curiosity, he was not having much success. So he smiled at him again and told him once more what a good boy he was. The slave’s face lit up as from within, and he tentatively started to stroke Severus leg in what seemed like silent wonder with the back of his fingers.

Severus kindly took the boy’s hand in his much larger one and gave it a gentle squeeze, before returning it to him and then he stood to finally wash himself. He felt something warm and wet touch the very tip of his penis. A shiver went through him. He was sore, very sore, but the thrill of that gentle touch sent the blood rushing back, making him rock hard in seconds. It could only have been Farid, he knew, so he looked down at the boy; Farid looked back at him, mischief shining in his brown eyes.

“Sank dyou, Masteerr,” he said with a small smile playing on his lips. “Dyou is kind to Farid.”

Severus realised that this boy was not broken, as he set to with his loving ministrations of Severus’ cock. He might have been a slave used for sex for most of his life, but he had survived such rough treatment somehow and, wonder of wonders, was not broken at all. A thrill ran through Severus as the boy ministered to his aching member. Gently, lovingly he licked and kissed and caressed it with his tongue; round the tip, along the shaft and then - he opened that pretty mouth of his and once again swallowed Severus whole - into that hot, wet sweetness.

This time, Severus let the boy do what he wanted to. He did not fight the slave, or force him. The boy had nothing to give but his skill, and just how much he was skilled became ever more apparent. Severus doubted that anyone had ever enjoyed these loving ministrations in quite the way that Farid was giving them now, with such care, such tender ferociousness. He soon found he could not think at all, and for a very long time, he just gave in and let himself ride on wave after wave of exquisite pleasure.



Sometime later, they lay entwined on the bed. Severus was watching Farid sleep. He was absolutely stunning, this boy, as he lay curled against Severus in the morning light; shadow and sunshine glinted against the silver rings that had been set in his pierced nipples and left interesting shapes dancing across his skin. His chest was rising gently as he abandoned himself to a sensuous catnap, head resting on his Master’s shoulder, arm wrapping around Severus’ own. The boy sighed gently in slumber, a tiny smile playing across his lips as he snuggled closer.

Severus felt like weeping.

Throughout his life he had been lonely. He had had no-one. Many of his bad choices, his wrong decisions, had been made because of the fact that he had been alone and always thought he would be.

And yet this boy, who had nothing, had given Severus more than anyone else ever had. Last night the boy had tried to please him out of duty, because that was what he was for. But just then, in the bathroom, Farid had worshipped Severus, bringing his body so much pleasure that Severus had to do something for him in return. He vowed that, somehow, he would take the boy with him. No matter what Dumbledore thought or said, he could not leave him here; he was too precious for that. Severus wanted to protect him, care for him. He hadn’t felt this way about anyone, not since he had suffered long ago from the pain of the unrequited love that he had so freely given to Lily Evans, and then later James Potter.

Severus didn’t care about the alliance with the vampires any more; he wondered how Dumbledore lived with himself, making deals with the sort of people who could treat a boy like this. But then, he thought, he had been happy enough to deal with them himself only yesterday. Somehow this little thief, who had captured his mind and his heart, had produced an epiphany in his soul.

A small sigh from Farid had sent his breath whickering across Severus’ chest, followed by the tiniest of shivers from the naked boy held in his arms; Severus felt his heart skip a beat.

He looked down at the young man and saw a pair of deep brown pools looking back up at him, filled with raw emotion. Severus knew what it was in those eyes, although he had seen it directed at him little enough; it was the look of love. This slave, this man-child, had fallen in love with him, and Severus blessed whatever god had brought him here three days ago. But Farid had lowered his eyes again; he had obviously been taught that this was not allowed, looking directly at his master. Severus felt differently however; he knew he could never get enough of that look, never get enough of Farid’s expressive eyes. He gently placed a finger beneath the boy’s chin and titled his face to look at him.

“Farid,” he said. “Look at me, Farid.”

Farid’s forehead creased, not quite sure what his master wanted of him. Severus touched the corner of his own eyes, and then the boy’s, waving his finger between them. When the boy followed his direction and looked him in the eye he said, “Good boy. Good boy, Farid.”

Farid smiled again, showing neat white teeth and said in his husky voice, “Farid look at Masteerr. Farid did good?”

“Farid did good,” Severus asserted, and he leaned over to claim those perfect lips in a fierce, hungry kiss.