Plzeň Towers: Pt. 02

For full context, please see Part 01 of this story

You have no idea what time it is when you awake later for a piss. Elia has placed the pot by the side of your bed. He is asleep on his own mattress, snoring softly. As you urinate in the darkness, the sound wakes the young lad and he stirs under his blanket.

'Tomáš,' says Elia, quietly, 'Did you sleep?'

'Yes,' you reply, 'but what time is it?'

'God knows.'

'How long are we locked in here?'

'Till daybreak.'

Even if you slept for eight hours, it would still be only three or four o'clock in the morning. You guess it might be about midnight.

'Did you cum last night?' asks Elia.

'No.'

You are not sure how you feel about being asked this question. From the Master, it would mean one thing; from Luca, another; from this young lad, it means something else. But before you can spend too much time thinking about it, your cock makes up your mind for you.

'Come and wank me now,' you tell him, your cock stiffening more and more with every syllable you speak.

You lie back with your head on your pillow and wait.

As he performs his duty, you allow your mind to drift, not thinking of him at all, merely enjoying the sensation of an anonymous mouth. For the first time, you realise that the blankets and mattresses upon which you are all sleeping must be quite grubby and crusty. The room has the stale smell of men about it, which you never noticed until now. The dirtiness of it all excites you and you groan audibly.

'Some dirty bitch is enjoying herself,' comes a voice from further down the attic.

Instead of inhibiting you, the implied insult makes you harder. You even hope that the owner of the voice will come over and insult you some more, maybe even hit you. You groan again and Elia joins in, his groans muted as his mouth is full.

'Dirty fucking cunts!' comes the same affronted voice.

You squirm and wriggle, knowing that you are about to climax. It is all too much for your brain to cope with; even now, lying there in the smelly communal bedding, you cannot believe the reality of it all. You want the universe to witness your moment of utter surrender. The thought of it tips you over the edge.

You give an unconsciously loud cry and fill Elia's mouth with your cum.

As your body shakes and shivers, Elia remains where he is, his warm mouth around you. His hands find your hands in the dark and you squeeze one another tightly. As your sexual body returns to earth, your feelings about him undergo a sharp physical change.

You really want Luca close to you. You crave his Italian affection, however false or superficial it may be. Your eyes are wet with tears.

You wait for more verbal abuse from across the room, but nothing comes.

Elia crawls up further towards you. You sense that he wants to kiss you, but before he can get too close you turn on to your side away from him and pretend to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, you hear him softly sobbing into his own little pillow.

You are just drifting off back to sleep when you are all disturbed by the sound of the door being unlocked and opened while flashlight beams criss-cross the room. You sit up, startled and scared.

'Your friend's back, maggots!' shouts a voice.

You and the rest of the slaves, who have also sat up in alarm, peer into the darkness as what looks like three hooded figures drag into the room a naked young man. They bring him over to the central spot and one of them lowers a rope from the ceiling. This gets attached to the straps around his wrists and he is raised by a pulley about a foot from the floor and left to dangle there. As the lights catch his swaying and struggling form, you all notice that his mouth is gagged and his feet are tied together. Most shocking of all are the words inscribed in ink across his body: SLUT, CUM WHORE, COCKSUCKER, CUNT, FUCK TOY and more. His body starts to twirl round as the hooded men make their way out of the room.

A last inspection is made before the door is closed. A single beam of light is cast around the room, falling on each man in turn as he sits there. Finally, it lands on the slowly revolving shape in the middle of the room. It has stopped writhing now and its moans have abated. Its penis sticks out, its wet dribbling tip sparkling in the light.

The door slams shut and darkness descends again. Although there is now some light from the moon this evening, your eyes take a while to readjust and for a few minutes there is only pitch blackness.

'Are you OK, Tom?' whispers Elia.

You don't answer him back. Instead, you carefully crawl over to where he is lying and get in next to him. He greets you gratefully and kisses you. You turn him round and allow yourselves to fall back to sleep curled up together.

When you awake later, it is just starting to get light outside. You vaguely remember waking two or three times earlier and then going back to sleep. No-one else is stirring. You seem to be the first one.

The dangling man has disappeared. Only the rope hangs down from the ceiling. You realise that it must be Saturday morning and that you have the weekend ahead of you.

As you are wondering what to do next, a bell sounds and lights come on, shining down from the apex of the ceiling.

Everyone scrambles from their beds and hastily begins to clear away their bedding.

Within five minutes, a second bell rings and you join the rest of the slaves as they queue by the doorway, each holding a flannel, a small towel and some with a pot of piss. You are all stark naked. The man with the lettering all over his body is near to you in the queue. Elia stands behind you.

The door opens and two guards dressed in leather uniforms enter the room. Neither of them resemble any of the servants. After a quick head count, you are made to descend the spiral staircase. Instead of the modern shower room, you are led into a dingy sluice room with open toilets and free-standing cold water taps.

Some of the slaves use the toilets to empty their pots; others need to sit there for a while to empty their bowels. The rest begin to wash at the taps, sharing one bar of green soap. A couple of them are cleaning each other, rubbing backs and shoulders with shared flannels or using their soapy hands.

You half expect some of them to be aroused and horny, but overall it is a joyless experience, a miserable ritual to be performed as quickly as possible. Several of the slaves try to help the one with the lettering all over him to wash it off, but some of the words seem to be in indelible ink, impossible to remove. Perhaps they were already on him before last night.

A third bell rings and you are all escorted back upstairs, where you change back into your slave clothes. Throughout the whole process, not one person has spoken, not even a guard.

But while you were washing, someone must have been up into the attic for there are bowls of steaming porridge waiting for you, arranged in a circle at the centre of the room, each portion topped with red and blue berries. There is a rough wooden spool in each metal bowl.

'We'll be given coffee later,' says Elia, breaking the silence.

By now the guards have departed, leaving the door open, and one by one the slaves are coming over to eat.

'Are you alright, Johan?' he asks the man who comes to sit down next to us. It is the graffiti boy.

'Yeh,' replies Johan. 'They fucked the arse off me again, all three of them.' He is grinning.

Finally, all the slaves are seated and eating.

'Sorry, guys,' Johan pipes up, looking at the rest of us. 'But it was my turn, you know.'

There are a few grunts of grudging acceptance and resignation. You wonder what might have happened last night if it hadn't been such an early curfew. You also wonder what might happen when it is your turn to try and leave. Your wayward cock hardens at the thought and you have to shift yourself to get comfortable.

'What happens, today?' you ask Elia.

'Chores. Coffee. More chores. Lunch. More chores...' - he pauses significantly and winks at you - '... and then evening entertainment.'

There is a ripple of laughter from those who overhear him.

'And then supper and bed,' he concludes.

You feel your heart beating and are sure that your face has blushed. You feel confident that you have made the right choice in coming and staying here.

For the first time, you have a chance to get a good look at the other slaves. Not one of them is ugly. They have clearly been selected for their looks. Even Johan is stunningly handsome, his short blond hair framing a strong, masculine face.

You have just finished your porridge when there is a summons from the doorway.

'Slave seven, follow me,' barks a voice you recognise. It is Luca.

Only a short walk separates the slaves' dormitory from the Master's bedroom. It is located through a hidden panel on the other side of the spiral staircase and leads into another part of the attic space, smaller, but feeling cosy and safe because it is beneath the eaves of the house. You like the warm and safe feeling that embraces you as you enter the room.

Just before he admits you to the Master's bedchamber, Luca grabs you from behind and puts his arm around your neck, pulling you in towards him. He licks your cheek and ear, and then he comes round to face you and kisses you softly on the lips.

The Master is sitting up in bed. It is a huge bed, unlike anything you have ever seen before.

'Come, sit beside me,' he says, moving over to make room for you.

There is a second person further along the bed, asleep, and you realise that it must be the same slave he chose last night.

You are about to speak but then you remember the rule of not speaking.

He lifts the bedcovers as you slide into the bed next to him. It is nice to feel the smooth fabric against your hands and the soft pillows behind your head.

There is a knock at the door and Luca enters without waiting for the Master's permission. This small incident intrigues you. You try to work out the relationship between the two of them. A pang of jealousy hits you out of nowhere. Luca hands you a fresh cup of hot black coffee in a white cup on a white saucer. He smiles as he passes it over.

'I am feeling horny,' begins the Master, 'When I woke up, I thought that for today your very first chore could be to satisfy my personal needs. I hope you don't mind.'

Once again you nearly speak, but stop yourself because you have not been asked a direct question.

He waits until you have taken a few sips of coffee and have placed your cup on the small table next to the bed. Then he takes your hand and places it over his groin.

The Master is wearing some sort of silk pyjamas. His cock lies upward, pointing to his belly. Your hand rests there, unsure what to do, not knowing what agency you have in this situation.

'Are you happy here, number seven?' he asks you.

'Yes, sir, very much, sir,' you reply. 'Thank you, sir.'

His cock twitches noticeably.

The Master moans and stretches his arms above his head, bringing them down to rest on his head.

'Tell me what happened to you last night. Did you have sex at all?'

'Yes, sir.'

His cock flexes.

'With whom?'

'With slave number six, sir.'

More movement. You respond to the movement by rubbing it gently.

'Good boy,' he says, purring. 'And did you achieve orgasm?'

'Yes, sir.'

Each answer you give seems to stimulate him more.

'Tell me how.'

'I came in El... in number six's mouth, sir.'

The Master chuckles and his cock throbs.

'Slip of the tongue there, eh?'

'Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.'

More throbbing.

So each time he hears the word 'sir' from your lips it inspires and inflames him, perhaps.

'Thank you, sir,' you add, unnecessarily, just to make sure; and you are right.

The Master falls silent and you take the opportunity to take another sip of the coffee. It is sweet and strong. The room is lightly but expensively furnished. There are two large couches over on the other side. You make a note of as much of it as you can without attracting attention.

You are waiting for the Master to touch you in the same way that you are touching him, but he does not. You are also expecting directions, about having to do for him what Elia did for you.

'What about Luca?' asks the Master.

You don't understand the question.

'Luca wasn't there, sir,' you say, unnerved.

The Master shakes his head and clarifies what he means.

'What is Luca to you?' he asks.

You gulp, caught unawares.

'Sir...' you begin, trying to find something safe to say.

The fabric covering his cock feels damp now.

'You may take it out and touch it, if you wish,' he tells you. 'You don't have to.' He makes a long, low growling sound. 'This is so nice.'

'Thank you, sir,' you remark, without thinking, continuing to stroke him.

He nudges you sharply, yet playfully, with his elbow.

'I didn't tell you to talk, boy!'

You want to say, 'Sorry, sir,' but know it will result in another blow. You let out an involuntary whimper. His dick gets even harder.

'So what is Luca to you?' he repeats. 'Tell me the truth. It is your safest option.'

'I love him, sir,' you blurt out. 'I love him!'

The Master moves his whole body, stretching his legs and arching his back.

'Fuck, yes!' says the Master, 'Of course you do! We all love Luca!'

He moans a lot louder.

'Would you like him to take your virginity properly?'

'Yes, sir.' You pause. 'Please, sir.' You pause again. 'Thank you, sir.'

The three instances of 'sir' are met with three corresponding jerks of the Master's cock.

'Then we shall have to arrange something for you then.'

The Master has not ejaculated but you sense that he is very close.

'You may stop now,' he says, removing your hand from under the bedsheets. 'Finish your coffee.'

As you pick up the cup, he turns to look at you.

'I like you Tomáš,' he says.

You are surprised to hear him use your name.

'Until I once again call you Slave Seven you may call me Jack.'

You are anticipating a trick, a sharp jab in the ribs maybe, but you take the risk.

'Thank you, Jack.'

Nothing happens. There is no reprisal.

'He's fast asleep,' chuckles Jack, indicating the slumbering lump on the other side of his bed. 'I think I wore him out!'

'Who is he?'

'That's Wilhelm, the brother of Johan.'

'Oh! I didn't know that Johan has a brother here.'

'Indeed, not just a brother but a twin brother. And not just a twin, his identical twin. It is quite impossible to tell them apart.' Jack snorts. 'At least, it would be impossible to tell them apart if Johan hadn't had those silly tattoos done.'

'Tattoos?'

'Surely you've seen them. Those demeaning words across his buttocks and chest.'

The penny drops and you feel relieved. But then you begin to panic again, hoping you haven't misread things.

'He did that to himself?'

'Yes!' confirms Jack. 'We have fun embellishing them sometimes. Our embellishments wash off; his tattoos are permanent.'

You are stunned into silence for a short while.

'When we saved you from those ruffians in the park the other evening, what were you looking for?'

'I don't know,' you confess. 'This, I suppose.'

'Then the horn Gods were kind to you, weren't they?'

'Yes, very kind.'

'Lads have been beaten up and killed there too many times. It is a dangerous game to play.'

You nod in agreement.

'Your friends here are all good men,' he goes on. 'But good men are often the most lost, the most lonely and the most vulnerable.'

'From what I have seen, they all seem to look out for one another,' you say.

'Mostly, yes, they do - in here.' Jack sighs. 'But outside, out there, they would be like the rest and ready to kill each other for very little reason.'

'Are they all rent boys then?' you ask, remembering what you were told earlier.

Jack nods in affirmation.

'But not any more in the outside world, I hope. Here they can play in safety.'

'I am not one of them though.'

Jack smiles and laughs softly.

'In another life, you would be,' he says.

He reaches over you to the table beside the bed for his ashtray and cigarettes. His face brushes so close to yours that you can feel the prickles of his moustache against your face.

The sudden intimate proximity of his body to your body makes your cock react in its customary fashion.

As he strikes a match, a beautiful blond head emerges from beneath the sheets. It yawns and looks around.

'Good morning, slave number one,' says Jack, cheerily. 'Slave number seven is just leaving. He has got me all pumped up to have another go on your body.'

Jack looks at you with mock ferocity.

'Piss off, piss lover!' he spits. 'This is not a fucking holiday camp. You still have many chores to do.'

You slide out from between the sheets and slink off across the room.

Luca is waiting for you outside.

'Follow me,' he says.

You make your way down the stairs, delirious with happiness.

***

Your chores for the house for the rest of that morning are quite surprising. They include cleaning and tidying, as you had expected, but also the preparation for cooking and, strangest of all, a couple of hours spent helping to groom and to be groomed by the other slaves. This includes being shown how to trim hair with an electric shaver as well as shaving, using hot towels and providing arm and neck massages.

In the process, you meet and talk to the other three slaves whose names you do not know.

As well as Wilhelm, Johan and Elia, - slaves one, four and six respectively, - you meet Pavel, Henryk and Patrik - slaves two, three and five. After meeting them all, you are not sure which one of them it is who shouted the abuse at you the evening before.

You learn that Henryk is Polish, while Pavel and Patrick are both from the Czech Republic. Not that it makes much difference. Everyone is expected to speak English at all times and transgressions are punished with a short spell facing the wall, hands behind the back, head bowed, and the time deducted from any free time allocated. This doesn't affect you as your English is exceptionally good and is your preferred language generally. But both Elia and Pavel make a couple of slips that morning.

The morning coffee break and meal times are designated free times for the slaves. Apparently, the evening entertainment sessions are not seen as free time but as a most important obligation. You are yet to find out why. Each time you ask about it, your questions are either deflected or simply ignored.

'Why won't anyone tell me about the evenings, Elia?' you ask, during lunchtime.

Elia shakes his head and carries on eating his soup and bread. He remains mute. So you drop the subject.

While you are eating, the servants walk around the dormitory supervising. There is no proper dining room, as far as you have found, and so all meals and rest breaks are spent back in the dormitory. This starts to explain its distinctive stale smell. There are small cushioned mats to sit on and rudimentary crockery and cutlery, but little else to make the meal times special. But at least you are allowed to speak to one another. It is the servants' job to spot infractions of the 'English only rule.'

As far as you know, the only native English speaker in The Towers is Tobias. Even the Master speaks with a trace of a non-English accent, though you are not sure if it is a bit of an act, engineered for your benefit. Sometimes, he seems too English, using old-fashioned or outdated phrases. You notice this more as your time at The Towers passes by.

No-one you ask knows why it is an 'English only' rule. The other slaves just accept it. The three servants are unapproachable at all times, unless they themselves initiate a conversation.

There is just one other person in the place who seems to be neither slave nor servant. This is Mo the chef. He seems to be free to come and go as he likes. The soup he prepares for Saturday lunch is watery and spicy, with noodles and vegetables. You assume that he is Chinese. About thirty, he is shorter than all the others, even than Sami. From what you have seen, his outward personality is of smiling friendliness.

You resolve to ask Luca a few questions and long for an opportunity to get close to him. Each time he passes you, at meal times or during the supervision of chores, he always smiles, showing off his perfect teeth. You wonder how genuine this smile is. Occasionally, he pats you on the arm or back as you learn new tasks, offering a form of praise. Each time he does this, you begin to feel breathless and embarrassed because the other slaves notice.

After an afternoon spent painting the walls of one of the outhouses at the rear of the property in the company of Pavel and Patrik, you are all allowed to return to the dormitory for fifteen minutes free time before evening entertainment. You feel hot and sweaty and would love to take a long warm shower. Only Elia and Pavel are missing. They are receiving their punishment for talking together in Czech earlier this morning, which is to stand once again facing a wall until told to join the others.

Yesterday, of course, due to Johan's insurrection, the evening entertainment was cancelled, as was supper. You wonder if the same situation is going to get played out again tonight. If so, you doubt if the place is really for you. The novelty of today's chores was exciting, but you foresee hours of drudgery ahead.

As before breakfast, before coffee break and before lunch, a bell rings and the slaves make their circle in the centre of the room. The lights are extinguished and everyone waits.

The Master's voice comes loud and clear:

'Last night, slave number one had the good fortune to join me in my bed.'

Silence and stillness.

'Tell them, slave boy, what it was like for you.'

From the other side of our circle, Wilhelm speaks out:

'The master's cock is washed and shiny. His breath is as sweet as the mountain dew. His feet are warm, clean and inviting. His hairy arse is dark and musky. His arms are strong. His heart is true. I love my Master.'

'Would you willingly join your Master for a second night, if he ordered you?' asks the Master.

Wilhelm drops to his knees.

'Yes, indeed, sir, with a joyful heart,' he proclaims.

The Master again enters the circle of slaves and stands in the same pose as the previous evening, legs astride and hands on hips.

'Tonight, my cock is soiled with this morning's cum, my breath is smoky from too many cigarettes and my feet are unwashed since yesterday,' he announces. 'My arse is as musky as ever.'

This time the whole group of slaves falls to their knees, yourself included.

The Master turns round and round several times, making up his mind.

'Number seven!' says the Master. 'Tonight, you shall have the pleasure. Rise and come with me.'

'I am fifty years old,' announces the Master, lighting a cigarette. 'How old are you? Thirty?'

He has led you back into his room where you sit on opposite sofas.

'I am twenty eight, sir,' you tell him.

The smoke from his first exhalation reaches you. You are relaxed and tense at the same time, shifting between nervous and confident energies; it is a very strange feeling. The scent of the smoke excites you.

'Am I too old for you?' he asks.

You pause. Not from nervousness but from wanting to provide him with the most honest answer you can. It is a subtle form of confidence.

Perhaps he senses this because he remains silent, patiently waiting.

'I don't know, sir,' you say. 'I am a bit lost actually, sir.'

He waits some more, watching you. Smoke continues to drift over.

'You wouldn't be here if you were not lost,' he says. 'All the boys here are lost.'

'Yes, sir.'

He rises from the sofa and walks over to you, standing in front of you.

'Would you say that I am lost too?' he asks you. 'You can tell me the truth.'

Your pulse increases and you can feel your face going red.

'Don't answer!' he says suddenly.

The truth hangs in the air. You are both aware of it. You are both extremely aroused by it.

'Taste me, slave,' he says, as he exposes his semi-erect penis.

You lean forward as he wipes a drop of precum from his dick and offers it to you on his forefinger.

It tastes like nectar. Your head is spinning. Your cock is hard and tight against the rough cloth of your slave trousers.

'Oh God,' you moan, and he anoints your lips with another large droplet.

He drops to his knees and stares at you. His eyes are bright blue. They look right through you.

You are afraid that you may pass out.

'You are going to strip, climb into my bed and wait for me,' he murmurs.

You nod your head, unable to speak. You know what is coming next.

He stands up and stays there for a while, his cock firmly erect. He is circumcised. It is a very low cut. There is no foreskin at all. The clear juice dribbles from it.

You reach out a hand to catch some of the falling liquid. You lick it off carefully, looking up at him.

'Yes, Master,' you say.

It is only when you are snuggled up under the blanket and sheets of the Master's bed that you realise you are missing out on the evening entertainment.

He has been off to the bathroom and comes back to join you, dressed in the same silk pyjamas as this morning.

'What happens at the evening entertainment, sir?' you dare to ask.

'Fuck knows,' he replies bluntly. 'I keep well away. They have nothing to do with me. Ask Luca.'

'Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.'

He has slipped into bed on the far side and has to work his way across to get near to you.

'Turn over and let me cuddle you,' he says.

You turn on your side, looking towards the door. He snuggles up next to you, his hands warm from washing against your bare skin. You can smell his breath, rich with tobacco. He gently strokes your hair.

'I don't have any favourites here,' he tells you. 'But tonight I shall make love to you as though you are the whole world to me.'

He groans softly and holds you closer to him. You shiver from anticipation. His hand begins to stroke the rest of your body, finding your nipples, arousing them with his finger nails.

'I fuck all the boys here except Wilhelm and Luca,' he reveals. 'They fuck me. And they do a very good job of it.'

You wonder where this is leading.

'What should I do with you, Tomáš?'

You look out across the room, your heart racing.

Against all your better instincts, the words come spilling out of your mouth.

'Fuck me, sir. Please fuck me, sir. Please fuck me, sir.'

Your whole body trembles. You have gone too far. You feel you have broken all the rules, not of the Master but of yourself.

'By the way, you smell lovely, Tom,' says the Master. 'I love the stink of a dirty boy.'

'Thank you, sir '

'While you are here with me, everything is at your disposal. Use the bathroom whenever you want.'

'Would you like me to shower, sir?'

'Fuck, no. I want to sniff every inch of you first.'

For the first time, you can feel his hard cock on your back as he rubs up against you.

'It's going to hurt you a lot if I fuck you,' he whispers into your ear.

You squirm and say, 'Yes, sir. I know, sir. Whatever you want, sir '

He sighs loudly in appreciation and you smell his smoky breath. You wouldn't mind if he wanted to slice you up and mutilate you. You only want to surrender everything.

'After you left me this morning,' he continues, 'Wilhelm fucked me.'

'Yes, sir?'

'It was so good, but do you know what happened when I came?'

What happened, sir?'

The Master laughs softly to himself and sighs.

'I called out your name, Tomáš. I couldn't help myself.'

The shock of what he has just said is twofold. You feel overwhelmed by him thinking of you in that way, but you are also anxious about what Wilhelm is thinking and feeling - and about what he might say to the others.

'Are you shocked, little one?'

You don't know what to say.

'Get used to it. There are plenty more shocks to come.'

He rolls over and turns away from you.

You don't know what to do.

All you can hear is your own heartbeat. You gaze at the wall and the door, looking for any sign of salvation.

He has taken something away from you yet it also feels like a gift. A negative feeling with the sense of a hidden reward just out of reach.

'It is early yet,' says Jack. 'We have the whole night ahead of us.'

You turn over in order to look at him. His face looks different from the last time you looked at it. You avert your gaze.

'May I use the bathroom?' you ask.

'Little one, the whole house is yours tonight. Make the most of it.'

Blinking, you slip out of bed and find your way into the bathroom. It is huge, with two large baths.

The toilet is in a separate cubicle from the rest of the room. When you emerge, the taps of each bath are running.

As you enter the bedchamber, the Master says, 'I have asked Luca to come in and scrub our backs. I hope you don't mind.'

The Master is clearly skilled at reading your mind. He knows what you feel about Luca, either from his own direct observations or from what Luca himself has told him. You don't know whether to feel delighted or frightened. To be alone and naked with Luca is one thing; to be naked in the company of Luca and the Master is another thing altogether. But, whether it is fear or delight that inspires it, your cock springs into action at the thought of it all.

The bath water is hot and deep. You are glad to be washing off the sweat and soil of your body, even though the Master seems to enjoy its scents. For the moment, you are alone in the bathroom. The Master has not yet come through from next door, though his bath is now ready.

You have been sitting there for about two minutes when a door on the other side of the bathroom opens and Luca walks in. As the door opens, you get a glimpse of the room behind the door and are amazed to see that it is another bedroom, Luca's room, so close to the Master that they share the same bathroom. Your cock starts to shrink out of embarrassment at the thought that you may have got everything wrong. Now it looks as though Luca and the Master are living almost as partners. You suddenly feel out of place.

What makes things worse for you is the fact that Luca is no longer in his servant uniform but wearing only a pair of dark blue boxer shorts. You suddenly feel that you have landed in some other version of reality: either it is the set of a porn movie or the home of some eccentric millionaire in which you are the honoured weekend guest.

'Would you like a drink?' Luca asks you. 'Jack and I usually have something bubbly while we bathe.'

Do all the slaves get this treatment, the ones whom the Master chooses each night? You have so many unvoiced and unanswered questions.

There is a long glass-topped table in between the two baths. The Master enters carrying a tray with glasses and a bottle of champagne. He puts it down on the table. He is naked, his cock at half mast, his body firm and muscular, with light brown hairs across his chest, arms and legs. Gingerly, he lowers himself into the steaming waters of his own bath tub.

'Well?' asks Luca, 'Would you like a drink?'

'Yes, please,' you reply, timidly, half wishing you could get out and leave. But it is the weak half of a wish; the strong half is the wish for an adventure, whatever strange and shocking things may transpire over the next few hours.

When Luca has finished pouring out the two drinks, the Master says, 'I forgot the nibbles.'

Luca nods and retires to the main bedroom. He returns shortly with two bowls of mixed snacks: salted nuts, pretzels and chili rice crackers.

He sets the bowls down next to the glasses of champagne and steps back to wait by the window.

The Master raises his glass.

'A votre santé!'

'Thank you, sir,' you reply, taking your own glass and saluting him back.

The sharp cold drink hits the back of your throat and makes you cough.

'Luca,' says the Master, 'Can we both get our hair washed, please?'

Luca comes over from the window, first to yourself, and begins the process of washing, rinsing and conditioning your hair. Everything smells of raspberries. He uses the clean bath water to wet and then rinse, but takes fresh water from the sink to complete a final rinse. Then he repeats the same thing for the Master. Throughout this procedure, you are all silent. The only sounds are the sloshing of the water, the crunching of the snacks and the occasional clink of a glass resting back on the table.

'Our backs now, please, Luca,' asks the Master.

You are always thinking of him only as the Master now. It is very hard for you to think of him at all as Jack. You realise that they are both personas, neither of the names truly reflecting the human being that lies under the different names. They are names that disguise, not reveal, just like your own.

You lean forward slightly as Luca begins to use a rough sort of flannel to rub and scour your back. You feel most of the tension within your body subsiding and a different sort of tension once again arises from your groin. He works your neck and shoulders, then your arms.

'Would you like your legs too?' he asks.

You nod your head, too giddy to speak.

He stands at the side of the tub and reaches over, lifting your nearest leg out of the water a little. He is using soap which has already begun to cloud the water. You are glad about that because it hides your growing erection. He gently lowers your leg back into the water and begins to massage the other one. The tip of your penis is now visible above the water line because of the angle of your body. He catches it softly and deliberately with the back of his hand and you utter a moan.

He lowers your leg back into the warm water and is about to move away to attend to the Master when he hesitates, bends over the tub and then kisses you passionately on the lips, his tongue entering your mouth. All the time, you are conscious of the Master watching you. You want to throw your arms around Luca's body but resist the temptation, instead leaning into the kiss with the same intensity as the other man.

Until now, the room is brightly lit but suddenly the lights begin to fade and the whole room is suffused in a softer orange glow. As you come out of the kiss, you wait until Luca begins to work on the Master's back before looking around and trying to work out how the lights changed.

'Sir,' you ask, 'what did you mean when you said that the whole house is mine tonight?'

The Master turns his head to look at you. Luca is cleaning his back.

'What I said,' replies the Master. 'Whatever you want is yours, from anywhere in the house. It is something I say to all my guests.'

'Whatever I want?' you query.

'Yes, Tomáš, whatever - whoever - it is at your disposal.'

The Master goes quiet and Luca continues. The sound of the water splashing seems louder when the lights are dimmed.

'What about Sami, sir?' you ask, nervously, determined now to make the most of your opportunity.

The Master laughs and Luca follows suit.

'If you want Sami, you can have him,' answers the Master.

Without missing a beat he asks Luca to fetch Sami.

You wait to watch Luca leave through the Master's bedroom but he doesn't. Instead, he goes across to the door which leads into his own bedroom.

'Sami, you're wanted,' he says, in a voice just above a whisper.

Ten seconds later, Sami appears at the doorway, in the same state of dress as Luca, except that he is wearing tight boxer briefs.

In these brief few seconds, you have divined that the bedroom is shared and that Tobias is somewhere inside, possibly asleep.

'Yes, sir?' says Sami.

You are caught off guard by the ease and suddenness of it all and immediately begin to get cold feet.

'I'm sorry, sir...' you begin to stammer.

'Don't worry,' says the Master. 'Luca and Tobias can hold you down as Sami fucks you. It will be no trouble at all.'

You hold yourself tightly, your hands clutching your arms.

'But, sir...' you protest.

'Silence!' commands the Master. 'It is ordained.'

'Tobias!' shouts Sami from the doorway. Within thirty seconds a sleepy looking Tobias puts his head round the door.

'Yes, sir?'

'Duty calls,' says the Master. 'So sorry to disturb your beauty sleep.'

Tobias smiles, unconcerned. Sami grins. You are unable to see Luca's expression as he is still behind you washing the Master.

The Master refills his glass and tops up yours.

'To The Towers!' he proclaims, 'And to all who fuck in her.'

***

'I believe this calls for Sibelius,' mutters the Master to himself, fiddling with the controls of his music player.

You are on the bed, pinned down by Tobias and Luca who each have hold of a leg and an arm.

'Don't struggle so much,' says Tobias. 'Relax. It will be a lot less painful.'

You turn your head to look at Luca. You glare at him desperately. He shakes his head.

Sami is standing at the foot of the bed, waiting for the Master to finish.

'He looks like a broiled lobster,' laughs Sami, seeing your body still red from its hot bath.

'Broiled or boiled,' adds Tobias. 'I never know the difference.'

The music begins and the Master sits down on a sofa. He turns to look at Sami. He nods his head. Sami crawls on to the bed and grabs hold of your legs.

You scream and writhe. You look again at Luca. He is still shaking his head.

You know he is your safe word and want to cry out his name. But also you want this violation more than anything else. And also, at the back of your mind, the tiniest suspicion that the safe word is useless.

By now, Sami is on top of you, his smooth muscular body heavy on yours.

'Please, Sami, please,' you beg.

His cock is hard against your soft buttocks. You remember that it is not so big as Luca's but you are scared of it. It is the vicious tool of a bully, a rapist.

You yourself are as hard as hell, harder than you have ever been in your life, so hard that it is like having a knife between your belly and the bedsheets.

'Oh, fuck, no,' you scream. 'No, not this! Not this!' You know that you are mere seconds away from cumming.

Luca's hand is now on your neck, holding down your head. You struggle to look at him again but his face is away from you.

Sami pulls up your body and Tobias pushes a couple of pillows underneath you. You are grateful and angry at the same time. You realise that this is the last chance to save yourself.

Enslaved or saved, you think, not knowing what the difference is any more.

He enters you with a grunt that reminds you of a tennis player making a serve.

You want to laugh so badly.

But the pain tears through you, unforgiving, unstoppable.

Luca rubs your hair and a violent tremor runs through your head and out into your body.

It is not too late to stop it, surely.

'Luca!' you cry out, and for a split second everything does seem to stop. It is a moment frozen in time.

'Luca, forgive me!'

Although you cannot see him, the Master sits up sharply in his seat.

'Luca,' you yell one last time. 'No fucking safe words!'

The world resumes its revolution; Sami is reanimated. The Master sits back into his seat. The music continues, the symphony playing in the background, the soundtrack to your destiny.

Luca is sobbing silently, the tears streaming down his face, but you will never know this.

You are by now wishing and imagining yourself in a different position, where your mouth too is filled with cock. You alternate between the thoughts of Tobias and Luca. It is only when you think of the Master's cock filling your mouth that the whole fantasy works and you enter the final countdown.

Your cum cascades unseen into the silk sheets beneath you.

Yet Sami continues his mindless, thoughtless, soulless, beautiful rutting, oblivious to your hopes and needs. He goes on and on, using you mercilessly. He is like a machine, fixed on a relentless course, able to run for hours, its batteries never draining, his smooth arms wrapped tightly now around your waist.

You imagine too a film crew in the room, capturing every second; and then the millions of men who watch the film, their cocks spraying forth their seed, one after another, for all eternity; and you cannot help but cum a second time; and this time, at last, Sami joins you and finally collapses down upon you, all sweaty against the freshly washed hairs of your body, his smoky mouth reaching round you for a kiss.

You wonder who or what is Sibelius as the music fills the room.

***

You must have fallen asleep because as you come to and look around you, the bedroom is empty. The music is still playing, although at a softer volume. You sit up and wait, wondering if you should dress and sneak away. Your body is moist with semen, all over your genitals, and probably leaking from you.

Suddenly, from the side, Luca enters and tells you, 'I have run you a fresh bath.'

He helps you out of bed, wrapping a towel around your body, and you realise how much it hurts to walk.

You feel extremely shy and wish you had been left to curl up and die in the bed. There is such a strong pulsation of shame that you cannot meet his gaze, lowering your head, hoping he'll disappear soon. Then he goes off into his bedroom.

You have been in the bath for about ten minutes when the Master comes into the bathroom from the servants' bedroom.

'We'll have supper soon, little one,' he says in passing on his way to his bedroom. 'I hope you like stroganoff.'

'Yes, sir,' you reply meekly, not daring to look at him. 'Thank you, sir.'

You make sure you are clean all over and get out of the bath, drying yourself quickly. Wrapping the towel around your body, you go back into the Master's bedroom and look for your clothes but cannot see them anywhere.

The Master, who is sitting on one of the sofas, notices what you are doing and says, 'Wear these instead,' throwing a pair of pale blue silk pyjamas at you.

'Thank you, sir.'

'You may wear those for the rest of the weekend.'

'Thank you, sir.'

'Come and sit by me once you are ready. Supper will be here any moment.'

You have just sat down next to him when the door opens and Tobias walks in with a large tray of food, and following behind him is Sami with another tray.

You shrink a little in your seat and know that your cheeks are turning red.

The two men set the food down on the table in front of you and begin to serve the Master and yourself. Once they have finished, they serve portions for themselves and sit down on the opposite sofa.

Luca then enters the room, takes a bowl of food and a fork, and sits down next to Sami.

As you raise your eyes to look, Sami is staring at you over his meal. He smiles at you and licks his lips. In spite of everything, you begin to feel tremendously aroused again.

He must sense this because he says, 'Want some more, boy?' in a very ambiguous manner.

The other three men laugh. You are red with shame and disgust at yourself, your cock engorged.

The Master intervenes.

'Forgive us, Tomáš, but we are not used to entertaining such good boys as yourself.'

He places a hand on your leg and allows it to stray to your cock.

'He's rock hard again!' he says, delighted, amazed.

'Let's reward him then,' says Sami.

'Oh, yes?' asks the Master. 'How?'

Sami looks at each of them in turn with a smirk on his face.

He turns to look at me and says, 'Let's make his 'good boy' status permanent, sir.'

The Master puts down his bowl and claps his hands gleefully.

'Yes!' he says, 'Yes! A nice tattoo!' He taps me on the chest. 'About here, don't you think?'

You want to protest but can't. You know that you can't possibly ever have a tattoo.

Why does heaven always so quickly turn to hell?