BIG FAT WARNING: The following story is another of my very occasional ‘adult’ stories. While it doesn’t contain any real sex scenes, it does nevertheless deal with very sexual themes.
If you are under the legal age to be considered ‘adult’ in your country, or if you don’t want to read material of a frankly sexual nature, please STOP READING NOW.
Jemo sighed and stretched. Sleep eluded him, though he knew he needed it. But that woman, and what she’d done to him…
From a distance she’d been beautiful, mysterious, untouchable. Now he’d seen her unclothed, touched the beauty – and he wasn’t sure whether to feel aroused or ashamed at the memory. Some nights he woke up from dreams of her, crying out – and the other slaves reacted with irritation. No one seemed to understand his problem.
His friend Foro had shrugged and smiled.
“You won her favour for a night,” he said, “Be happy! You’ve gotten through the hard part – and you’re reserved for her use, now. Not that she’ll probably ever think of you again… but in the meantime, freedom! Now me – Linada’s claimed me all to herself, and she’s not gentle! Her mistress is easier by far, from what I’ve heard…”
“There are so many worse things,” clucked the older men, “than be bedded by a sweet young thing like our mistress… you could be down the mines, or working the fields – instead you’re fed and clothed and bedded! Don’t whine, or you just might find out how bad life can get…”
Kilo in particular had growled at his nightmares and depression. Her favourite for years, father of one of her children, he regarded Jemo as a particular threat. And he was offended that being bedded by his mistress could be considered a traumatic experience.
Jemo woke with a start from yet another nightmare. A shadowy figure crossed the room and knelt beside his bed.
“Jemo, another nightmare?” whispered Foro.
Jemo nodded, shamed, and then realised that the gesture couldn’t be seen in the dark.
“Another,” he whispered, and closed his eyes.
Foro sighed and folded back the blankets. He slipped into the bunk next to his friend, and put a hand on his shoulder.
“You need to find a way to work through this, my friend,” he said into Jemo’s ear, “You know – some of the men here do it by finding their own pleasure, their own way…”
Jemo’s head turned slowly toward his.
“How?” he whispered.
Foro raised himself on an elbow and stroked the face of his best friend.
“Like this,” he said, and kissed him gently on the lips.
“And more,” Foro said, sliding a hand slowly down to Jemo’s chest, feeling the muscles tighten under his fingertips. “Only ever what you want, as you want, you see. Here, in this bed, you’d never be a slave.”