FOR SERVICES RENDERED

Chapter Three

It was evening again. Severus sat watching his slave sleep, and he was Severus’ slave, he knew that now. He wondered what he was going to do; slaves did not exist in the wizarding world any more, well not apart from house elves, obviously. Albus was going to absolutely murder him. Yusuf had told him that the claiming last night had effectively made Farid his: permanently. How was Severus supposed to know that the honeyed drink, that he thought was to relax him, contained a very powerful lust potion? He had, after all, accepted a number of other drinks in the time that he had been here, and none of them had had such an effect.

That had been what had nearly driven him insane with such an insatiable need for the boy; something that relieved Severus greatly, in a way, for to think that he could be capable of such a thing had disturbed him very much indeed, and he was deeply ashamed. He would still take care of the boy who was now, after all, his responsibility, but that bone aching shame that he had been feeling had eased somewhat since the revelation.

That Farid had knelt before him so sweetly and served him with a potion which had precipitated his own rape, made Severus' heart ache; but at least he knew that he had not hurt the boy whilst gripped in some strange unexplained madness which he might someday repeat.

The alpha vampire had laughed at Severus’ indignation and told him that right enough, “It only take three fucks to claim a slave, but we Kazakhs always like to make sure! Three times three is better, my friend, no? I am quite fond of that little pet myself; I brought him here when he was quite small, and he stood in hall surrounded by vampires, wearing nothing but a large thin shirt, fit only for rubbish. Is much better naked, I think. But he was quite unafraid; he is only animal I have ever been tempted to turn. But we don’t turn Muggles, they too much trouble. If only he had a little magic, though.” He continued with what could have passed for regret, “He was getting too old for me. I like my Muggles fresher than him, unsullied, pure.

“I found him when he was just little child; he was on a doorstep. It was freezing cold – February; his family had left him there. I almost go and see them personally and tell them not way to treat such small animal, but I busy, so did not. I had been in England for just a few days. Good pickings, always, I find when I go there for night or two; the Muggles, they not care for their homeless. I have had many a good meal when I visit.”

He threw back his shaggy dark head and laughed just then, exposing his long neck and his wide mouth with its sharp, pointed incisors. These vampires were very different from the ones Severus had always known; they lived as they wished and nobody bothered them. Their society was strong, not like the shadowy, half apologetic clans in Britain.

“He was crying like little kitten; so, kind vampire that I am, I rescue him.” And then, fixing Severus with an icy stare, “Don’t doubt, my friend, that I did. He was so cold and bleeding much from where he had been beaten, such a small child too, so sad. So I took him and we put a glamour on him to hide his scars, they were many too for such a scrap; and of course we change the colour of his eyes. The other animals did not like his eyes - they think them the colour of death.”

But Severus had not really been listening at that point. He had been thinking of the small child, beaten and locked out from warmth and home, so that being snatched by vampires into a life of slavery might almost be considered a better fate.

But now Yusuf grabbed his arm and squeezed it hard.

“You look after him, he is good animal. I rather he go to you than get drained or sent to breeding pens, but if you hurt him, I know.

“I call him ‘Farid.’ In your tongue it mean ‘precious,’ ‘unique.’ You make him happy or else I not happy.”

Severus had been astonished. What did this boy have that made a master vampire, known throughout Europe for his heartlessness against Muggles, defend him in such a way?

But looking at Farid sleeping, it did make sense really. Whatever glamour the boy wore, it did not take away from his innate beauty and he was so very beautiful; the dark plaits spread out across the pillow on which he lay, and the dark lashes curled on his cheeks. He was cuddled up in a foetal position, which was not how he lay when he was with him. When Severus was beside him, his legs were open, his arms thrown back. Better to offer his master access, to whatever part of his body he might wish to touch. In this position he seemed, oddly, even more vulnerable, as if he were defending himself against the world.

Severus felt very tender toward the boy as he moved over to the bed to join him. Earlier, they had had the most amazing sex that Severus had ever had; he had come back to the bedchamber, pondering what Yusuf had told him about the boy. Half of him had been appalled; to own someone, to be able to do whatever he wished to a slave, who in turn had no recourse, no way of defending himself, was wrong. It was evil. It was what Voldemort wanted to do. He didn’t think it was even legal anymore in his world. But the bond was magical and, according to the Master Vampire, there was no way, save death or the boy being given or sold to someone else, to dissolve it.

But Severus wondered; maybe Farid could become an apprentice to him, or there might be some other way to change or transform the magic involved. Some way that was not so violent, so cruel as what he had done the night before.

But part of him, quite a big part in fact, was secretly thrilled that the boy belonged to him; someone of his own at last, who was his forever, who could never leave or turn against him. That part wanted to defend his strange relationship with the boy against everyone who might wish to destroy it.

At first, when Yusuf had told him that Farid was his slave, he had been hurt, angry even, because he had assumed that the love he had seen shining in the boy’s eyes was because of the bond. Again, he had been laughed at by the vampire.

“No, English Wizard, the boy is under slavery bond, not love spell! If you see love then it is there, and make me think I right to give him to you. He good animal, have made many men happy. He will bring you joy, yes?” Severus, who had been sitting next to the Master Vampire at a long oak dinner table in the Great Hall of the castle, had lowered his hand to his slave, who was curled naked on the floor beside him, and gently stroked his head. He vowed to himself that he would look after Farid, and protect him, and not let anyone hurt him or take him away from him, ever.

Later, Farid had followed him back to his room. He had been totally unconcerned by his nakedness and had seemed unaware of the jingling noise that the myriad of little ornaments twined in his hair made with every step he walked. Severus turned and grabbed him gently, swinging him into his arms before lowering him on to the large silken bed. Farid just lay there with his legs spread open and his dark eyes lowered, letting his master look his fill.

Severus just stood there for a while, watching the boy’s chest rise and fall and seeing him trembling a little bit, as he no doubt wondered what was to happen now. He took both of the boy’s hands in his larger one and fastened the cuffs that he wore to the rings embedded in the headboard. Farid had begun to breathe more rapidly, yet didn’t struggle; he was obviously anxious, so Severus gently placed a finger on Farid’s lips and shushed him as he had the night before.

“Hush, sweet boy,” he said and he started to stroke and caress his slave, luxuriating in the feel of that silken skin, wanting to lick it, to nibble it. He knelt over the boy now, occupying himself with darting his tongue in and out of Farid’s neat little belly button. He smiled to himself as the boy started to whimper softly and wriggle just a tiny bit, not too much though, because Severus straddled his legs and held him firmly in place.

But then he reached for the boy’s cock to find that it lay limp and unresponsive, nestled in his curls.

“Farid,” he asked, “what is wrong?”

The boy seemed hardly to be listening, and looked up at his master with pleasure filled, unfocused eyes, “Masteerr?” he asked in a soft tone.

“You are not hard, Farid. What is wrong, do you not like this?”

“Masteerr, jes like, jes like much.”

“Then why not hard?” Severus asked. The boy, though, stared at his master in confusion, not knowing what Severus wanted.

So Severus reached up and released one of the boy’s hands though still keeping the wrist firmly grasped and took it down to his own stiff member.

“Master hard!” he growled.

Then he moved it to Farid’s soft organ, ignoring the flinch that Farid gave when he touched his own penis. They would deal with that later, he told himself.

“Farid not hard.”

And then once again, “Master hard, Farid not hard.”

And Farid understood.

“Masteerr must tell. Masteerr must tell Farid get charrd. Farid must not touch, Farid touch bad, that for Masteerr.”

It was just about the longest thing that Severus had ever heard the boy say. He had to tell him to find pleasure in the sexual act? He had to tell him to get hard? Merlin, he probably had to tell him to come as well! The boy had such sensuality that he had obviously been enjoying what Severus had been doing to him, at least if the little moans and sighs had been anything to go by. But he was a slave; he was there for someone else’s pleasure, and he was not to find pleasure in his own sex unless he was told. Severus planned to change that. Right now, he wanted this boy to feel bliss like he never had before. So after placing a tender kiss on the palm of Farid’s hand, he refastened the cuff to the headboard and resumed his exploration of the boy’s body. He took hold of Farid’s cock, giving it a firm squeeze, and, with a mouth full of the nipple ring on which he was tugging gently, he said, “Hard Farid, hard for Master.” He was very gratified to find the boy’s cock immediately swelling with blood until it stood proud against Severus’ leg.

Severus smiled in a feral way and said in a low voice, “Good boy Farid!”

Severus had licked and sucked and nibbled his way up and down Farid several times. He had tugged on his nipple rings, licking and kissing around them, nibbled him from his ears down to his toes then finally nuzzled up to the boy’s cock. Farid moaned and whimpered as Severus blew gently on the boy’s balls and took him in his mouth. Farid gasped and began muttering in Kazakh as he was gently sucked and worried by the tongue of his master. Severus didn’t know what he was saying, but he loved the rich tones of the boy’s accent and the way he rolled his Rs.

“English, Farid,” he said, “English.”

And ever obedient, the slave replied as best he could, “Jes, ohohohoh Masteerr, emec, oh Masteer, Maste…..”

And Severus smiled to himself as he realised that the boy was not about to make sense in any language right at that moment - he was lost in the pleasure that Severus was giving him. He raised the slave so that his bottom was resting on some pillows and ran his hands under the boy’s smooth thighs. Caressing gently, he lubricated one finger and inserted it into the boy’s anus. Severus did not want to hurt him again, but he wanted to come inside his slave. Farid winced a little bit but did not protest, and Severus inserted two, then three fingers into the tight space. The thought that Farid would not have been able to stop him even if he had tried to, was ruthlessly squashed by Severus. Farid was his, and he would take him if he wanted him, whenever he wanted him. And he wanted him now.

He placed the tip of his cock against the slave’s carefully slicked anus and pushed, gently but firmly, past the outer ring of muscle until he was deep inside him. Farid screamed. He moved, in and out, in and out, while the slave muttered incoherently. Severus kept up an even pace and rhythm brushing regularly against the man’s prostate, until he could not hold back any more, not against the hot tightness of his slave. He came so hard that it was almost painful, shuddering and shouting. He had just enough presence of mind to lean forward and whisper to the boy lying beneath him.

“Master has come, slave. You come, too. Now.” Farid obviously understood him well enough that time; if not the words, then definitely the meaning because, like the good little slave he was, he came on command, just like Severus wanted him to.

Afterwards, they bathed. Severus had tenderly dried Farid with a warm fluffy towel and carried him back to the bed, laying him down softly.

“Vateerr? Masteerr, please?” Farid croaked, his eyes anxious. He was obviously unsure about asking, but he must have been desperate. Severus felt overcome with guilt because the boy had not drank or eaten all day. He had been with Severus, and Severus had not thought of Farid’s needs. He fetched a glass of water and stroked the boy’s cheek as he thirstily gobbled it down. Once Farid had finished, he turned to lay the glass aside preparing to call someone to bring food for the boy; but by the time he had turned back, Farid was asleep, worn out by his body’s exertions.

So Severus watched.

Later, when he made his way over to the bed, he snuggled down beside his slave, spooning against him. Farid murmured in slumber, uncurled in case his body was needed by his master, but nevertheless slept on.