FOR SERVICES RENDERED

Chapter Four

When morning came, Farid woke to having his mouth plundered by his master. Severus smiled at him, “Good morning, little one,” he purred. “How are you today?”

“Masteer, may thees slave seerrve dyou?” Farid asked sleepily.

“Hhhmmmm,” said Severus, kissing him harder and letting his hand trail down towards Farid’s cock. He was stopped in his exploration by a loud gurgling noise. He was puzzled for a second and then realised that it was Farid’s stomach rumbling. Of course - the poor boy had had nothing to eat since the day before last; he had to be ravenous by now. Severus looked at the man-child to say something and saw that Farid was blushing, furiously, and he threw back his head and laughed out loud.

“I sorry, Masteerr. I bad slave,” Farid said sadly, lowering his eyes, but Severus just kissed him again.

“No Farid, good slave.” And then, pointing to himself, “I am a bad Master.”

“Emec, no, no, Master good,” Farid still had a worried look on his face. His eyes widened as he quickly realised that he had just disagreed with the man who owned him body and soul, and he felt a little bit panicked. His master had seen his agitation and gently put a finger to Farid’s lips, and Farid knew then that it was going to be okay, that his Master was not cross.

“Let’s eat, little one. I have breakfast all set out for us.”

Farid thought he understood a bit more than he had the day before; some words seeming quite familiar to him. He didn’t really remember what his life had been like before he came here, but he knew that this place was better. He got fucked here - and had for a long time - but he was fed and not beaten very often and nobody hated him. But when he thought back to before Master Yusuf rescued him, he shuddered. He remembered a red-faced man who shouted at him, and a big boy who laughed when he was in pain; they both hit him and broke his bones and called him ‘freak.’

They had hated his magic, and they tried to make it go away by beating and torturing it out of him, dousing him in freezing water, burning him with hot things, poking other things inside him and washing him with bleach. He had been frightened of his magic for a long time and had prayed for it to go away, so that he would be normal, and not be a freak, and have his family love him. But his magic had not gone; so he had hidden it, and he still hid it, even from his masters here. He knew that, if they were to find out, they would turn him, and Farid did not want to be turned; he did not want to be a monster like them.

They were often kinder to Farid than the fat man had been, but they still hurt people and killed them, and Farid did not want to do that. Master Yusuf admired power and Farid knew that he had such power - he just did not know what to do with it, how to channel it. Here he had learned that magic was not bad; what was bad, was how it was used, and he did not want his power used to make more slaves like him.

But now he had a new master, and Farid would have to think again. He should tell this master, but he could not divulge it just yet; he knew that if he told Master here, then Yusuf would take him back, and Master would be in danger. Since he had met this man, Farid would rather die than see him hurt or go back to how it had been before. This master would help him, would show him what to do, because sometimes Farid burned with the raw energy pumping through him, and it scared him.

He shuddered violently at the thought of his power running out of control, but Master saw him and pulled him into a hug. Farid wanted to cry, and that was something he had not done in a very long time; this man cared about him, and Farid would do anything to please him. So he smiled and looked up at Master in his gentle way and allowed himself to be led over to a low table that overlooked the mountains and lakes that surrounded them.

There were two chairs at the table and Farid wondered who would be joining them as he knelt down at his Master’s feet, but Master caught his upper arms as he lowered himself down.

“No, Farid,” he said. "In the main part of the castle, when the others are there, you will have to do this. But you are not a dog, and here in our quarters you will feed yourself and sit on a chair.”

Farid heard Master’s words but did not really understand them, and he did not know what to do. Even in the other place, when he had a name that he could not quite remember, he had not been allowed on the furniture. He had only ever been allowed on a bed since he had come here; and even then only when he was being fucked or if someone wanted a warm body around for a while.

His eyes widened and his teeth started once again to worry his lip. Master smiled, stroked Farid’s hair, and gently led him to a carved wooden seat with a soft red cushion. Still gripping his arms, he pushed Farid gently until he was sitting. Farid gasped with shock.

It was so comfortable, especially on his sore arse. Farid did not know that there were things as comfortable as this chair was in all the world; and his master wanted him to sit on it while he sat on his own chair?

Then Farid realised that Master was hiding things too. Maybe he would not be cross with him when he found out about the magic; Master was different from the vampire clan and from the fat man with the red face. Never, in all his life that Farid could remember, had he been allowed to sit in something so magnificent; then to make things even more wonderful, Master let him feed himself cold juice, and hot coffee and warm creamy porridge, and he even let him hold a spoon!

The juice was wonderful, sweet and cold; Farid had only ever had water to drink before now, but this was nectar. Watching Master pour him a coffee, Farid struggled to make sense of what was being said, “I’ll add some cream and sugar for you because you will not be ready to drink it black and bitter as I do.” Taking the cup as Master handed it to him, he curled his hands around it and tentatively he sipped at the drink; his eyes wide as the thick velvety liquid flowed down his throat, and the taste! Farid was so surprised by its warmth, its smoothness that he almost choked.

Then carefully putting down the cup, he picked up the little silver spoon, and dipped it into the creamy sweet oatmeal in front of him. It was peppered with berries and honey, and he slowly, carefully at first, raised the bowl of the implement to his lips and tasted the porridge. This time he closed his eyes because he was doing this; he was feeding himself, and not from some chunky wooden bowl from which you had to drink cold stew, nor titbits dropped from an owner’s hand. This was more freedom than Farid could ever remember having, and he could not stop himself any longer: fat tears flowed unchecked down his smooth cheeks because he had never felt so cherished or been so happy in his life.

Last night when Master had made love to him, he had felt more pleasure than he had ever thought possible. But this, this was unimaginable luxury to Farid.

And now his master was holding him again, so tenderly, as if he might break, and Farid started to sob like his heart would rend in two. He had so much all of a sudden and did not know what to do with such riches and such kindness.

Master looked at him with worried black eyes, and Farid knew that some how he would have to tell him that he had not gone mad, that he was alright and was crying with happiness. He thought hard, back to his childhood to those words of English that he vaguely recalled, and said, “Sank dyou, Masteerr, Farid so happy, sank dyou.” Then, frowning hard to remember words that had only ever been said to the big boy that hit him, but that he had once craved to hear, “I love you, Masteerr.”

And then, screwing all his courage up tight, he closed his eyes, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his master’s lips. He felt like he might be sick, like the bottom might drop out of his world - such presumption from a mere slave. For a second, Master did not respond. Farid knew that he had gone too far, presumed too much, and that he would be turned away or sold. But all at once, Master grabbed him tight and kissed him back, more fiercely and more passionately than he had ever been kissed before. And Farid knew he was safe at last.