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“Thank you, Master,” Oriel replied in a dull tone.
Roth used part of the blanket to wipe off the excess cum from both of them. “Go wash up.”
The cuffs were undone, and he crawled off to the bathing room. At least he could wash off the other fairy’s cum too, although he still felt dirty. When he came out, Roth was still naked as he smoked a cig on the bed, and he gestured. Oriel crawled back up onto the bed and prayed the cig wasn't about to be put out on him.
“Lay on your stomach.” Roth held the cig in the corner of his mouth as he reached for a jar Oriel hadn’t noticed in the sheets. “We made a big mess on the bedding. Good job.”
What the fuck was wrong with him? Also, Oriel could have used this balm a few days ago, but he didn’t complain as it was applied to his bruised ass. Roth replaced the cap, flicked his cig in the ashtray next to him, and sighed as Oriel stared at the sheet.
“You must have been bright and happy once,” Roth muttered as he drew invisible circles on Oriel’s lower back with a finger.
What? Was he mad he didn’t get to do the initial breaking from day one?
"You can speak to me in private, you know?" added Roth. "I didn't forbid that."
"Okay, Master," said Oriel. Was he supposed to say something else? It wasn't like he wanted to chat with him anyway. What on fucking Ymir’s dirt could they possibly have in common or talk about?
Oriel dared to look at him. Roth took a drag from the cig as he stared into space with an irritated expression and his ears partially drawn back.
Oriel's mind scrambled as he tried to figure out if he better find something to say or keep quiet at the moment.
“You can go to bed,” Roth said in a stiff tone as his tail lashed.
Oriel might have been a little too eager as he got on the floor, but his Master didn’t comment. As soon as Oriel was in the cage, and the door was locked, a sense of relief washed over him. This was his space, and so far, no one had hurt him while he wasinthe cage. Roth was done with him for the night, so he was likely safe for a bit.
He curled up under his blanket as Roth put out the lanterns in the sitting room and went to bathe. The little splashes of water didn’t bother Oriel as he closed his eyes and tried to ignore this shame and the fact that Roth would probably be fully up his ass in another day or two.
One day, Oriel would make that fucker pay.
He later awoke to the main door closing, and he jumped. A little light came from the bedroom, and he made out Roth’s form as he approached. Oriel hadn’t even heard him leave, and he wondered what time it was.
His Master paused as he braced a hand on the wall. His breathing sounded heavy, and Oriel remained as still as possible as he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
After Oriel fell asleep, Roth must have left to see his friends and head out into the city. If he was drunk, what would he do if he remembered his slave? Oriel’s heart thudded as Roth’s footsteps made it into the bedroom.
“Fuck.”
The bed squeaked, and Oriel smirked to himself. He hoped Roth woke up with a raging hangover. Served him right. He turned over, stretched out more, made sure he was covered, and went back to sleep.
The servants woke him when they came in. One had food and water, and she opened the tiny flap for the bowls at the back. Another entered the bedroom, and something hit the wall.
“Get the fuck out!”
“I’m sorry, m’lord,” she squeaked as she bolted for the main door. The other hastily took the empty bowls and went after her. Oriel ate on his hands and knees like usual just in case Roth popped out. The bastard probably had a wicked hangover, and that would likely equal rage if his slave misbehaved.
He had finished eating when he heard water. After several minutes, Roth came out to lean against the doorway with his shirt off. On his left side, a huge bruise had blossomed on his ribs. It looked painful, and Oriel felt nothing but pure glee since someone must have kicked his rotten little ass last night.
He kept his expression dull as he turned his head back to stare at the wall. Absolute subservience would serve him best today since Roth looked like was in a foul mood. When he approached the door, Oriel got on his hands and knees as expected.
“You’ll bathe me. Crawl.”
Oriel was let out to crawl after him. Roth had another bruise on his lower back and one on his right shoulder blade. It was hard to tell if they came from punches or if he’d been slammed into something.
Whoever it did, Oriel wanted to kiss them. Maybe they’d do it again, and next time, they’d crack open Roth’s skull and splatter his damn brains everywhere in a tavern or wherever. It didn’t matter. The fucker who’d made Oriel shout like a damn slut last night would be dead.
Except…without Roth, Lord Delwin would lock Oriel back in that room and spend weeks torturing him to death. The fact that he truly needed Roth for now at least grated on his nerves as his stomach twisted.
Roth undid the ties on his sleep pants and let them drop to reveal another bruise on his lower right hip.
