Loveless

One

He was on his knees on all fours, and the magister behind him, taking him, filling him, was young, handsome and everything Fenris had ever wanted in a Master. Marcus was his name, and Fenris, the slave, fancied himself in love.
It was incredibly dangerous - incredibly stupid - to allow himself to be taken by another magister without his Master's direct order, and in his Master's home no less. It was treason, punishable by death. If Danarius were to find out, Fenris would be drawn and quartered, but magister Marcus also had a lot to lose, as he would undoubtedly be sentenced to replace him with an equally valuable slave or risk having his entire estate confiscated until he complied. Marcus had... wooed was the only word for it, had wooed him when no one else, aside from Danarius himself, had ever even wanted to touch him. The handsome magister had courted him for months, telling Fenris how much he wanted to buy him, how he would be the only one to take him, how he'd never want another body slave. If Marcus were successful then Fenris would come second only to the magister's wife and his two apprentices - it was unheard of, to be so desired. In his heart of hearts Fenris harboured the tiniest hope that it meant that this magister he loved so dearly might one day bring himself so low as to kiss his slave. No one had ever kissed Fenris that he could remember - certainly no one after the ritual that had left him such an ugly, marred creature, with lines of lyrium running all over his body -, he knew it wasn't his place to want such a thing, but he couldn't help it. Some magisters enjoyed kissing their body slaves, though obviously, unlike Fenris they were extremely desirable body slaves. Maybe Marcus would want that, just once.

The elf had asked the magister to wait, to take him only after he had negotiated the transaction with Danarius, so that there was no danger of discovery. He didn't want to be parted from this beautiful magister, whom he loved and wanted so badly to serve, not even by death; but Marcus had refused, had implied that, if he couldn't sample the goods he was going to buy, then perhaps Fenris wasn't worth all that coin. After months of nothing but praise, the threat had cut the elf to the quick, and he had been desperate to prove himself worthy, had been willing to risk everything, so he'd begged the magister to take him. Marcus had taken him roughly and with almost no preparation, hurting him more than Danarius usually did but, for Fenris, it was worth it. They were risking much, after all, it was only to be expected that he wouldn't waste time stretching him. Clearly Marcus desired him above all other slaves. The thought alone was enough to keep Fenris hard as a rock despite the pain, but he could no more come before Marcus commanded it than he could turn the sea pink. Finally the magister rocked his hips so powerfully Fenris almost lost his balance, and spent himself inside the slave. Minutes ticked by with no words exchanged, Fenris' need driving him mad until he risked begging.

"Magister, please, may I come?"
"My little slut wants to come?"
"Yes, magister, please."
"Say it."
"Your little slut wants to come, magister, please allow your little slut to come."

Marcus withdrew from the elf, his seed dripping down the slave's raised ass and onto his balls, and then smacked his ass hard enough to hurt, once, twice, three times.

"Not magister, slut. You know the word I want you to use."

All of Fenris' training was screaming at him not to do it, that only Danarius was entitled to that word until Marcus bought him, but Marcus was getting angry, perhaps angry enough not to want to buy him anymore, and Fenris loved him.

"Domine. Please allow your little slut to come, Domine."

The effect was immediate. Marcus rose to his feet and spoke, but it wasn't Fenris that he was addressing.

"I believe I win the bet, old chap. This ugly thing you insist on keeping is nowhere near as loyal as you claim."Danarius' silky reply, together with Marcus' obvious disgust, made a lead ball drop inside Fenris' stomach. He had been a fool. Marcus didn't desire him, had risked nothing, and Fenris would be paying the price alone.

"So I see. My little wolf is more rebellious than I had hoped for. We'll have to rectify that. Shall we discuss your boon, Marcus?"

"Later, I need a bath first. It's going to be a significant boon, old man, considering I had to stick my dick in... that to win it. I feel dirty. Do you have a proper body slave to help clean my cock? I fear I'll be scarred for life if I allow the memory of your pet monstrosity to linger until I get home."

It was a good thing Fenris was already on his hands and knees - he knew better than to move without Danarius' express permission, and so he could see neither one of the two magisters, leaving him even more exposed - or he would have doubled up from the pain he felt. Pet monstrosity. Ugly, hideous, scarred, deformed, these were all him. He hoped Danarius was quick in passing his execution so he could stop offending with his mere existence.

"Of course, Marcus. Make use of the bath and whatever slaves you need. My little wolf and I need to have a discussion."

Danarius' slippered feet came into view, impossible to miss even with Fenris' eyes fixed firmly on the floor. His Master's words were a soft purr.

"Little wolf, you disappoint me. I thought you knew who your Master was. When people asked me why I kept such a twisted pet, that was always my first praise, how loyal and dedicated you were. But you're a rabid little wolf, aren't you? So ready to bite the one hand that would feed you. What am I going to do with you?"

"Execute me, Domine."

"Yes, execute you, that's what I should do, isn't it? That would at least be sure to silence those treacherous lips, that called another Domine just now. I am weaker for it, for this affection I hold for you who are a twisted unwanted creature, but I cannot bring myself to execute you."

Danarius' tone was heavy with disappointment and Fenris felt shame wash over him in waves. It was true, all of it. His Master, inexplicably, wanted him, and he had allowed himself to be so easily enticed by another. All it had taken had been the promise of not being found lacking, despite the fact that he knew lacking was the best he ever would be, and he had twisted the proverbial knife in his Master's heart. He was truly wretched. Without being commanded, without even asking permission, he brought his lowered head to his Master's foot, pulling the slipper with his teeth, and started lapping at his toes with his tongue, attempting to beg forgiveness in this humblest of ways. Danarius, in far too generous a mood after the horrible betrayal he had just been subjected to, allowed it.

"You thought he would want you? Pay for you? Don't you know that the only people beside me who would ever want you would only strip the lyrium from your corpse? Have you not understood, my pet, that my mercy is the only thing keeping you alive? No one wants you except I, and yet how eagerly you betray me when I have been nothing but generous. But you don't understand yet. I wish you did - then I could simply punish you as you've forced me to and we'd be back to what we were - but you still don't. I shall have to make sure you see." A hand threaded itself in Fenris' hair, pulling his head back even as the magister's foot found his slipper once again. "Enough of that, now. I will show you the truth you have been hiding from behind my mystifying affection. Follow me. On your hands and knees as it should be, my mercy has ran out today."

Fenris crawled obediently behind his Master, Marcus' seed still dripping down the back of his thighs with his every movement and renewing his utter shame. Danarius made him crawl all the way down the stairs and into the foyer, exiting the villa and finally arriving at the smaller house of the estate's healer. Only the most powerful magisters had personal healers, seeing as it was so very hard to find a mage in Tevinter who didn't dabble in blood magic.

"Giles, here is my treacherous little wolf. He's still full of Marcus. You are to administer colonics until he is completely empty. Let him empty his bowels into the chamber pot as many times as necessary. I will send some slaves to wash him afterwards, I want him clean on the inside and out. I will be by to collect him later."

Fenris watched his Master leave helplessly, still on all fours. He was used to feeling exposed, but the enemas that afternoon felt somehow more of a violation, that not even such a private act was within his control. Then a host of slaves were touching him, bathing every crevice with ice cold water, until finally he was left alone, naked and shivering, awaiting his Master's return.

When Danarius finally returned, hours later, he had his staff with him as well as a small chest. Fenris acknowledged him with a subdued "Domine," unsure of what was expected of him. He had been punished before, of course, but his transgressions had never been this great. His Master had him seat on a long narrow bench, waved his staff in a complicated pattern and Fenris felt tendrils of magic, heavy and oily, weaving themselves into his belly.

"Giles tells me that you have been completely emptied. That is good. What I have just done to you will make it so you remain that way for the duration of your lesson - it would be messy and unsanitary otherwise, and this isn't meant to punish, little wolf, but to teach. Punishment will come later, after you've learned."

While he was speaking, the magister had set down the chest on the bench and was opening it, still wearing that expression of heavy disappointment that made Fenris all but want to disappear. He retrieved a green blue gel that the slave was well acquainted with - Danarius' special lubricant, that he brewed for Fenris alone, that prevented him from tearing no matter how great the pain in his anus. Marcus hadn't used any, had almost tore him, and he'd allowed it despite knowing that he'd be less valuable to his Master if he were to be damaged that way. Danarius abhorred the thought of a slave's blood touching him, dirtying him, but the elf had paid no mind to his Master's needs in his traitorous quest to rise above his station. Maker, he was so unworthy, how could Danarius bear to own him?

While he had been musing his master had taken one other object from the chest, an object that caused Fenris' mouth go dry and his stomach - empty, for which he was suddenly thankful - to clench in fear. It was a wooden phallus, longer and thicker than Danarius' cock, longer and thicker than Marcus' cock, terrifying in length and width. Fenris knew it was still realistic enough to have been modelled to the dimensions of a rather well endowed human, but that did little to help the fear that was threatening to overtake him while Danarius coated the phallus in a thick layer of lubricant. Then the magister had pulled an intricate looking set of leather straps and belt buckles and was suddenly standing right in front of his seated form.

"On your knees now, Fenris, I want your belly on top of the bench and your palms flat on the floor on the other side. That's it, there's a good wolf. If only you'd been this obedient before..."

The position in which he found himself was awkward and unyielding, the bench slightly too tall for both hands and knees to properly settle on the floor at the same time, Danarius' command to flatten his palms making sure that it was his upper body that was supported, his lower half somewhat elevated and exposed. He couldn't see what his Master was doing behind him, but sooner than he was ready for he felt the gelatinous coolness of the potion being smeared on his backside and then, with no further preparation - not even a single digit - Danarius had the wooden phallus attempting to penetrate him. His insides were being seared - the gel wouldn't allow him to tear but, Maker, it wouldn't stop the pain - and he fought to remain silent and still, his eyes watering.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, little wolf. It's truly not punishment, but I can't bring myself to touch you where you've allowed Marcus to be mere hours ago. Shhh, now, the tip is almost in, it'll get better after that. I wish you hadn't forced me to do this." The magister's heavy regret was beginning to colour with some impatience at the involuntary stubbornness of his slave's body. "Relax, now, Fenris, you're only making this harder on yourself than it has to be. And stop that keening, it's unbecoming of a proper slave."

Fenris had no notion of how long he knelt there, the thick phallus being pushed into him, burning him, splitting him in two. His throat was raw even though he'd kept his whimpering low pitched, and his back and forehead were slick with sweat. His ass, already tender from Marcus' rough treatment and the enemas that had followed, felt like it was on fire, throbbing around the phallus and renewing his pain. Danarius had stopped pushing when there was only the tiniest bit of phallus still on the outside of his slave, but now one of the leather straps was covering it, pushing it all the way in, and then the magister was commanding Fenris to stand and was arranging and buckling the rest of the leather straps around his thighs and waist so that the horribly large toy in his ass couldn't accidentally be expelled. The magister surveyed his handiwork and then lightly patted his slave's leather-locked rump, causing a fresh bout of agony.

"There, all done. Follow me, now, little wolf, and you may walk this time.

Walking was a tortuous task, as every step made his ass cheeks clench in an involuntary and futile attempt to expel the phallus inside him, and by the time they arrived at the magister's bedroom, having crossed the courtyard and climbed the stairs, Fenris could have fainted with relief. Surely now Danarius would teach him the lesson he had planned to and then remove the object from him.
He quickly knelt as was expected of him here in the bedroom, but Danarius waved him off.

"No need for that, little wolf, we only came up to retrieve your collar," he said while rummaging his bedside drawer, "I forgot to pack it in the chest, so distraught was I by your betrayal." An elegant leather collar was extracted from the drawer and, more rummaging later, something that looked very much like a leash. "Here it is. Come here, so I can put it on you, and then we're going out."

Even through the pain, the wave of panic rising in Fenris was threatening to overtake him. He'd managed to walk across the courtyard and up the stairs because he had been telling himself that it would be over soon, but they were going out? He was going to be walking, naked save for his collar and the leather strips that locked in the source of his agony but did nothing to hide his soft cock, through the streets of Minrathous? His shame aside, what if he couldn't do it? What if he fell somewhere where it would publicly embarrass his Master, who had already forgiven him far too much today? Would Danarius finally tire of him and sell him then? He had to be strong, he had to endure it, he could not fail. He would not fail.

It was repeating this last thought like a mantra that he managed to go down the stairs, his Master lightly pulling his leash. He had never worn a leash before, and had never left the estate without his sword and armour - he had been, until today, exclusively a bodyguard once they were out of the gates; it was only in the privacy of Danarius' home that Fenris was afforded the privilege of attending his Master's needs - but he didn't allow himself to feel anything other than resolve. He would not fail.

To his surprise, Danarius' generosity extended to allowing him to ride inside the carriage. That had never happened before either, and it further cemented what Fenris was already painfully aware of: that the magister was far too lenient with his undeserving slave. He sat on the carriage floor by his Master's feet, pain shooting through him at every bump in the road, for nearly three hours. It was only the resolve to not embarrass his Master that granted him the strength to get out of the carriage and press forward, even as he realised where they were. The barracks. The barracks, filled with soldiers who had seen him fight at some point or other, who had been forced to recognise his skill with a sword no matter how ugly and deformed he was, who had coveted that same skill for themselves. And he was being paraded, naked and on a leash, through the courtyard full of men. Never again would even the grudging respect they'd showed him be meant for him. It served him right for having betrayed his Master.

Yet another set of stairs to climb, and the slave's ass managed to feel both numb and on fire at the same time. . He would not fail.

Fenris was so focused on walking, one step at a time, that he didn't even notice they'd reached the Commander's office until Danarius pulled his leash upwards, signalling him to stop. The magister didn't bother knocking, simply opening the door and stepping inside. From his position just outside the door, next to Danarius' acting bodyguard - Maker, how that stung! - Fenris had a privileged view of the inside, seeing without being noticed. The Commander looked up from his papers irritably, ready to take to task whoever had dared invade his office like that, and promptly pasted an unctuous smile on his face instead as soon as he realised it was a magister gracing his door.

"Magister Danarius! What an honour! Have you come to inspect the troops?"

"Not today, Commander. I would ask a favour of you."

"Certainly, Magister, I'd be honoured to assist with whatever you wish."

"Fenris, enter," Danarius called out. As soon as he set foot in the office Fenris saw the Commander's eyes widen in recognition and surprise before quickly narrowing in disgust. The magister's tone was pleasant.

"This is my little wolf. I'm sure you've met him before, haven't you, Andreas?"

"At last year's tournament, magister."

"Ah, yes, now I recall it, you bet on him in the final, didn't you? You've always been a good judge of strength and skill."

Andreas looked like he didn't think much of the naked elf's strength or skill at this moment, and Fenris felt suddenly grateful that being a slave meant he could stare at the floor unless commanded to do otherwise.

"I would like to leave my rebellious little wolf in your care for a week, Andreas."

A week? It was all Fenris could do to not hyperventilate.

"Does he require training, magister?"

"Not at all. It is part of an exercise in reality that I am having him do. I understand you and your men have needs, Andreas. The brothel is far, home farther still, and the flesh is weak. I do not want him damaged, but he may be used by any who would want to. His bottom is plugged, but if he is to be used there you can remove the plug." Danarius set a key on top of the desk. "This opens the leather straps so you can have access."

This wasn't happening. It was someone else standing here, on display, a phallus in his ass, ready to be used by a regiment of horny men. He was asleep by the foot of Danarius' bed, having a nightmare that foreshadowed what giving in to Marcus' false promises would bring. He wasn't truly here, Maker, he wasn't.

"Magister, may I speak frankly?"

"Of course."

"Are my men required to fuck that? I suppose I have a few who deserve punishment, but it was to be nothing so severe... Still, if that is your wish..."

"No, no, no, Andreas, you misunderstand me. My only wish is that he stay the week. I am merely saying he is fair game should any of your men desire him. I would never dream of imposing him on another, I am aware of his deformity. Still, I imagine some might have special tastes."

"With all due respect, magister, I hardly think anyone could desire that, but I'll be honoured to be able to aid you in your exercise by keeping him the week."

"Good. Let me explain to you how to care for him." Danarius was already opening his small chest again, taking out seven ochre-coloured potions that Fenris had never seen before, plus a pot of his special lubricant. "He will not need a chamber pot for anything other than to urinate in for as long as he is here. You are not to give him food or water, as that would negate the effort. One of these potions a day will keep him nourished and healthy. Like I said, I do not wish him damaged, so if anyone is to use him, they will need to coat him and themselves with this, to prevent tearing. He is not allowed to remove the phallus himself, but any one of your men may do so. That is all. In seven days I will return and - I cannot stress this enough - I expect to find him undamaged. And clean. Have you any questions?"

The rest of the conversation was drowned out by the pounding of blood in his ears. A week. He was going to have the horrible phallus in his ass for a week unless someone actually wanted to use him. As much as the mere thought of being taken right now hurt, he knew he needed to find a way of making himself wanted so the phallus could come off. He wanted to kneel, to beg his Master to take him home and punish him, but he knew such lack of restraint would only embarrass Danarius, so he forced himself to remain still as the magister passed his leash to the Commander and walked out without a backwards glance.

It was the longest week of his life. Andreas had attached his leash to the foot of an empty cot in one of the dormitories, with not enough leave to stand, a chamber pot close enough that he could pee while kneeling, and called all his men to inform them of Danarius' instructions. Fenris knew he was hideous, but still... There was no one who hadn't reacted with sheer disgust. Not a single man had wanted to fuck him, and the opportunity to beg barely presented itself seeing as he only interacted with other men once a day. A different one came each day to feed him the nourishing potion and down a bucket of water on him so he'd keep clean. Most didn't look at him, or they tried their best not to. Fenris forgot what it was like to not be in constant pain, the phallus in his ass an ever present, all encompassing entity that his world had been reduced to. By the fourth day he thought he might be lucky when the man of the day looked at him, really looked at him, with undisguised pity. He had truly begged then, but the man had told him in no uncertain terms that, though he pitied him, removing the phallus would require actually touching him. Seeing the man's retreating back, the rest of his hope leaving with him, brought home how truly disgusting he was. He had the kindest of Masters, who wanted him despite what he was, and he had betrayed him most cruelly; still, Danarius hadn't sold him because he knew what fate awaited his slave if he did. His kindness knew no bounds. Fenris privately vowed to be the best slave he could be, to never again give his Master further cause to regret owning him. He could only hope Danarius hadn't suddenly decided to just leave him rotting here forever, but the lyrium in him was valuable enough that the magister wouldn't. Probably. Maybe. Please.

His pleas were mercifully answered and the magister did return, punctual as ever, on the seventh day. No words were exchanged between them other than the required "Domine," but, as soon as they were back in the carriage, Danarius' expression softened in grief, his fingers caressing his slave's hair, Fenris leaning greedily into the touch.

"Oh, my little wolf. I am so sorry. Andreas told me, I did not expect... I wanted to teach you, I wanted you to understand that very few men could ever want you, but I did not expect that not one would touch you. Not even one... I would not have left you there so long if I'd known, little wolf, I am sorry."

Such kindness broke Fenris in a way that harshness hadn't managed to, and sobs broke out of him against his will. Danarius pulled him up in the cramped space of the moving carriage, Fenris standing hunched because of the low ceiling, and made short work of unlocking his slave's straps.

"I'm not going to punish you, my little wolf. I was going to punish you after your lesson, but I did not mean for the lesson to be this harsh." The phallus was suddenly pulled out of him, no doubt more forcefully than Danarius had intended to because of a bump in the road, and the pain was different but no less intense. Fenris fell forward onto his Master's lap with a whimper, but the magister forgave that too, quickly coating a digit in a pot of his special lubricant salve and sliding it into the slave's ass with no resistance at all. A second digit followed, then a third. Somehow Danarius managed to manoeuvre them both so that Fenris was kneeling on the carriage floor, arms propped up on the bench, his Master behind him already lifting up his robes. To feel his Master's cock at his entrance was a blessing, his words a soothing balm for the slave's mind.

"It's alright, my little wolf, I want you. I care. I cannot even wait to get home to show you that you're wanted. You're too loose now but don't worry, little wolf, I have a spell to make you as tight as you used to be as soon as we're home." The magister's cock was fully sheathed, one of his arms around Fenris' belly giving him the contact he had so craved the past week, relief flooding his senses. Danarius wanted him. It did not matter that no one else did, Danarius wanted him. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his Master. Tears streamed down his face, pain mixed with regret and relief.

"I am so sorry, Master, so sorry."

"Shh. I know, it's forgiven," the magister whispered in his ear. "I want you to come for me, little wolf. Touch yourself and be ready to come for me when I command it, show me how much you want me."

Fenris complied, eager to please, Danarius' so very obvious tenderness assuaging his pain and acting like a powerful aphrodisiac. He'd never have betrayed the magister had he known how much he cared, it was all he had ever wanted. He pumped himself in time with his Master's thrusts, the pain inconsequential, and was trembling with need and desire by the time the magister orgasmed and commanded him to finally come.