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“He’s almost not even worthy of it,” said Roth, and the others snorted. “But that’s what he’s for, so he might as well do something productive. It’s not like a traitor’s son has any other uses.”
Oriel pictured his Father dead in the Hall along with his brothers while King Taven's men continued their killing spree. He should have stayed that night instead of leaving. Maybe he could have somehow protected his family, or at least Aspen. Or maybe he would have died. That would have been better than this.
“Up.” Roth’s tap with the cane didn’t hurt, but it was a warning. “Get between my legs.”
Oriel knew how to do this. He’d sucked cocks before, it wasn’t that hard, and he just had to get through it. Maybe he could go somewhere else in his head like Aspen. And there, he’d be with Aspen, and everything else would cease to matter for a few minutes.
Roth pushed back his chair, undid his trousers, and pulled out his cock. It was already hard as Oriel got between his knees and tried not to look at it.
Roth took him by the hair to pull his head down. The tip, wet with pre-cum, brushed Oriel’s lips, and he forced himself to open his mouth.
“You can eat something else now, pet. See? I’ll keep you well-fed.”
Someone snorted at that, and Oriel squeezed his eyes shut as he tasted the warm, thick length. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here. He was with Aspen, and nothing in the past two years had happened.
The cock in his mouth was too hard to ignore, so he tried to pretend he was sucking off Aspen in the woods like he’d done so many times before when they were together.
Roth’s touch was all wrong. He didn’t smell like roses either. Maybe it was better to pretend nothing at all existed.
“I’ve never had anyone that smelled like magnolias.” Roth cupped the sides of his head. “At least you know not to use your hands, but you need to open your eyes. Look at me.”
The last three words had such a warning note, Oriel didn’t dare do anything but obey. It was hard to be elsewhere when Roth’s red eyes with the slitted pupils focused on him, and the smell of blackberries filled his nose. He didn’t want to be present while his mouth was raped, but Roth wasn't giving him a choice.
“It’s a privilege to suck my cock, and you better be grateful, so do a good job.”
If Oriel tried to pull away or fought, he might end up back in that room. He bobbed his head as he tongued the underside like he wanted to do this. Anything to avoid that room. Roth forced him to take it all in his throat and held down his head.
“Good pet.”
Chapter Eight
Aspen didn't feel like he was in any state to step up as the lord right then. He could barely comprehend the fact that he was one because Lord Mather’s two servants had come up with a genius plan.
Sira said that Lan could handle the paperwork and such for a few more days. He’d been the lord’s Steward for so many years, he could probably do the accounts in his sleep. With the lord’s declining health due to his heart in the past years, people had grown used to seeing Lan when they paid rents or had some issue to settle.
Lan would pass around the info that the lord’s son was back but dealing with his grief.
The day after Lord Mather’s death, Sira woke him and made him sit up to eat more soup and goat’s milk with bread floating in it. Then she gave him a tray with a quill, ink, and vellum.
“Since Lord Mather is passed, you have to write to the King to say you're taking over as his heir. It’s just a formality.”
Aspen stared at the parchment for a few seconds before he looked at Sira’s eyes which were red from crying. Even if they had been servants, they must have quite liked the last one. “I can’t be the lord.”
“Yes, you can,” said Sira. “Don’t you know what could have happened to you if someone else bought you?”
“The same thing that happened to me every day on the boat,” he replied in a wooden tone.
She glanced away. “Nobody can touch you now. One of the men at the slave house said to brand you with an S, but of course, we’re not doing that, and we took off the collar. You’re a free man.”
“The King saw me. He knows what I look like.” He’d fucked Aspen too, and the words froze in his throat for a moment before they tumbled out. “He raped me in the Hall.”
She avoided his eyes. “If you were a pleasure slave then, I doubt he remembers your face that well. It's not like you were someone with power. Do you always keep your hair down?”
“Yeah. Usually.”
“Then you’ll start wearing it up, or you can cut it short. I’m assuming you were half-naked then, and you’d be surprised at how different a man can look when he puts on some good trousers and a fancy coat. Besides, do you think he’ll specifically look to see where you’ve gone? And you don’t have to go to his home for any reason since you’re just a Baron. The King likely won’t call for some minor lord to come to dinner, and you don't have to go to court. Even if you cross paths in the future, time will mar his memory. He won’t suspect that a slave has somehow become a lord.”
“I don’t want to see him again.”
