"You knew."
The clinking of chains was Michael's only response. A wave of impatience washed over Michael, causing another crack of the whip. His prisoner flinched as the whip left another mark on his skin.
"You knew." Michael repeated, handing the whip to a prison guard and drawing his sword in case his captive decided not to speak again.
"Yes."
"For how long?" Silence, yet again. In an act of irritation, Michael sliced his prisoner's chest. The cut was deep enough to draw blood, but not to kill. No, Michael didn't want to kill this prisoner. He watched for a bit as his captive writhed in pain, feet dangling as he did so. For hours, the man had been chained by his arms in the middle of the room. The man had sustained heavy injuries and was obviously in pain. Michael felt a slight twinge of guilt, but his sense of duty quickly quenched the guilt.
"For how long, Baruna?" He asked again, wiping his sword with a cloth that the guard provided.
"Before you left." Baruna's voice was raspy and dry due to lack of water.
Michael thought about this fact for a moment. Baruna had always confused him. He fought well, better than many of his own soldiers, yet seemed to understand so little about battle. He always spared enemies, allowing them to escape. And now…
"You could've stopped this whole war." He said, examining Baruna's face, watching for some reaction. The prisoner showed no emotion other than exhaustion and pain. Michael should've known better. Baruna never showed any expression.
Michael turned to the guard a grim look on his face. "Leave." He said simply. The guard did not argue and left almost instantly. Michael watched the door close before turning back to his prisoner. "You could've stopped this whole war with that information. Why didn't you tell anyone?"
This time Michael didn't have to wait for an answer. "Didn't think you'd do it." Baruna replied. Half-lidded eyes watched Michael's confused reaction. His vision was becoming blurred, and he longed for the relief of unconsciousness.
Michael picked up the bucket of cold water the guard had supplied for him. "That's something I don't understand about you. You always look for the good side of people. Why?" He asked, throwing the ice-cold water onto Baruna. Baruna groaned, lifting his head in order to stretch out his neck.
"Why are you doing this, Michael?" Baruna asked a mixture of pain and exhaustion written plainly on his face.
"Because you confuse me, Baruna." He said, withdrawing the keys to the cuffs. Calmly, he walked over to his old friend and unlocked his handcuffs. Immediately, his captive crumpled to the floor. Michael watched as he lay limp on the ground, blank eyes staring at the chamber's ceiling, chest rising and falling as he panted. Crouching down, Michael brushed a wet strand of hair from Baruna's face. This act was rewarded with a look of exhausted confusion from his prisoner. Michael regarded him with an indifferent look. "I dislike things that confuse me, Baruna." He said, taking the other's hand and promptly snapping it. A shout of pain rushed through Baruna's throat though it was silent once released from the mouth. Michael watched as his friend's bare torso arch in pain, which caused the wound on his chest to open once again.
Standing, Michael walked over to Baruna and grabbed him by the hair. Pulling his prisoner into a kneeling position, Michael undressed. As he did so, he spoke to his captive. "Like I said, Baruna, you always look for the good in people," By this time Michael's pants dropped to the floor, revealing his limp cock. Realization struck Baruna fast and he hastily tried to move away but Michael grabbed his hair once again and pulled him close to his crotch. "But, what you have to realize, Baruna, is that some people just don't have one." With one hand buried in his captive's hair, Michael reached down and grabbed the boy's broken wrist. "Now suck." He commanded. Baruna just looked up at Michael defiantly. In response, Michael put some pressure on the boy's wrist, causing the boy to shout in pain. "I will keep doing this until you obey, Baruna. Now suck."
Baruna obeyed this time, wincing in pain as he grabbed his captor's cock. Risking a glance up at Michael, he slowly took him in. He heard Michael moan above him, and figured he must be doing something right. A few more well-placed licks and Michael's shaft was erect. Baruna withdrew for a moment in order to replenish his oxygen. Instead of oxygen, he got pain. He looked up at Michael, only to see lustful eyes and a stern expression. Baruna turned his attention to his broken wrist to find that Michael was placing pressure on it once again.
"Did I say to stop?" Michael's voice was heartless as he thrust his length into Baruna's mouth. Gag reflexes kicked in, and as the thrusts became faster and more violent Baruna found himself choking. Desperate for air, he raised his free arm and tried to pry Michael's hand from his hair. The attempt was in vain and resulted in more pain. Thankfully, Michael withdrew and Baruna took the chance to take in air. As he did so, he could see Michael stroke himself until he was about to spill. Once he was teetering on release, he thrust into his captive's mouth once again. In a moan of pleasure, he came. Baruna felt bile rise in his throat as he was forced to swallow the cum.
Michael pulled out, and watched as his captive doubled over and threw up. As his prisoner wretched, Michael watched the muscles in the boy's back expand and contract. Michael focused upon the slave tattoo he saw, and smiled. The tattoo shone in the dim torchlight, slicked with sweat and blood.
Deciding that his prisoner had been given enough time, Michael kicked him in the stomach. The kick sent Baruna across the room, opening old and recent wounds in the process. Pain ran through him as he landed on the grimy floor. Rolling over, he weakly pushed himself up, coughing up blood in the process. His arms were shaking, his chest was bleeding and he still had the god-awful taste of cum in his mouth. Baruna wasn't sure if his body could take any more abuse.
Michael walked towards his prisoner, watching the boy's quivering back. His eyes continued downward until his gaze was fixed on Baruna's ass which-to Michael's dismay-was covered by a bloodied pair of pants. Michael drew his sword again, allowing a small tremble of sickly pleasure as he watched the black-haired boy freeze. Placing one hand on the other's hips, Michael trailed the blade down his spine. When he reached the top of the pants, he expertly sliced them off and watched them fall to the floor, split in two. Sheathing his sword, he pressed himself against his old friend's back, wrapping one hand around his cock while the other inserted digits into his victim's mouth. Baruna struggled weakly against his molester's touch, but the relentless torture had tired Baruna out. He was no match for anyone, much less Michael in this state. Resigning himself to accept his fate for now, the ex-gladiator accepted the fingers-granting them free passage into his mouth. He even let out weak moans as Michael stroked him to within an inch of his climax. But, instead of granting him release, Michael withdrew from the naked boy. Exhausted and strained, Baruna collapsed on his side panting.
"Michael, please." The voice sounded strange to Baruna, despite it being his own. He could hardly believe he had ushered those words. Half-lidded eyes watched as Michael put his clothes back on.
"I'll be back, Baruna." He spoke, fixing the cuffs of his shirt. And, for a moment, Baruna thought he heard kindness in his voice. A remnant of the Michael he once knew. It was only when he felt the sharp pain of his unsatisfied erection that he remembered that this was not his friend. This was King Michael of Isiris, and he was nothing but the King's prisoner.
Footsteps echoed through the chamber as Michael walked towards him. Baruna felt himself being pulled up roughly by his wrists. A moment later, the cold touch of metal surrounded his wrists as Michael chained him to the wall. The pressure of the cuffs caused a sudden cry of pain to escape his throat. His broken wrist was throbbing beneath the chains when Michael left the room. He was all alone in the room, accompanied only by a full candle and his cries of anguish.
Michael returned after the candle's wax had melted. The room was completely dark when he entered, save for a small slice of moonlight from a thin window set near the ceiling. The moonlight shone on the limp body of his once-good friend, flaunting the boy's bloodied skin now slicked with sweat. Taking the key from his pocket, Michael released Baruna from his chains, catching him as his body crumpled. Michael could feel his prisoner's breath on his shoulder as whispered into his friend's ear.
"I'm gonna fuck you raw." Michael ran a hand down his bloodied chest, slicking his hand in Baruna's blood before he ran a trail of blood over the boy's cock. A moan escaped his captive's lips and quickly turned into a shout of shock and pain as Michael inserted blood-soaked fingers into him. The cries continued as the King scissored his prisoner.
The pain was unbearable. It was like Michael had cut Baruna's body in half with a hot fire poker. It both scalded him and ripped him apart. Baruna could hear Michael's voice in his ear, but didn't recognize anything he said. He could only focus on the pain. Too weak to do anything else, he grabbed his torturer's arms and dug his nails in. To his relief, Michael withdrew his fingers and allowed Baruna to catch his breath.
It was then that Baruna noticed Michael unbuckle his pants once again. Taking off his belt, Michael wrapped it around his captive's arms, pulling tight before fastening it. Baruna helplessly watched as he was bound, not having the energy to fight or struggle. He just hoped that it would be over soon and that the pain would soon subside. He didn't struggle as Michael lifted him onto his lap. Nor did he fight when his cock entered him. As Michael continued his thrusts, Baruna tried to escape from his surroundings.
He imagined he was in a field, the wind rustling his hair while he lay in the shade of a tree. There would be no worries in that field, no wars for him to worry about. Clara would be there playing with Ariadne and Ares. He could see them from his shady spot, watching them with a smile on his face. He'd have a blade of grass in his mouth, rolling it around with his tongue. Yes, Baruna was happy with this imaginary realm of his. He would just stay here until the pain subsided, then once it did he would return to reality.
Unfortunately, Michael had other plans for him. A harsh thrust brought Baruna back to reality sooner than he had both expected and wanted. Emitting a raspy cry, Baruna clenched his eyes tight and bit his lip till he felt blood. He didn't want to see Michael's face; didn't want to see that smug expression on his face as he drove Baruna to the edge and back. Then, the thrusts stopped and Michael let out a long, passionate moan. Warmth spread through Baruna as Michael released his seed. Baruna's body soon followed his example, much to the ex-gladiator's dismay.
Michael grinned smugly at Baruna as he came. His grin broadened when he saw the shameful expression plastered upon his face. Grabbing the other's chin, Michael dragged him down for a kiss. The kiss was rough and was guaranteed to give the other bruises and make the mouth sore. He broke the kiss, leaving Baruna panting. After pulling out of him, Michael kissed him once again. But this kiss was different.
He meant it this time. The kiss was filled with unspoken words of apologies and passion. It was filled with love, regret, sorrow and just plain raw unreleased passion. And as all those feelings flowed through Baruna's body, he found himself actually wanting the kiss. His body was filled with renewed energy, and lifting his bound arms around Michael's head he willingly replied to the kiss in kind. And for that brief period of time, it was as if the old Michael had come back. As if his Michael had come back.
Then came that dreaded moment where Michael separated his lips from Baruna's. Leaning his forehead against Baruna's, Michael breathed in deep and sighed. And then he said something so faint, that Baruna had to strain to hear it.
"I'm sorry, Baruna."
That was when he buried his blade into Baruna's back, causing the other's view to go completely black.