Goldfinch

Goldfinch Chapter 8

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"GOLDFINCH" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

GOLDFINCH

by Andrej Koymasky © 2018
written on April 3, 1986
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised by
Tom (chap. 1 to 4) and by Gilles (chap. 5 to 17)

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SECOND PART
CHAPTER EIGHT

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IKutkhay was sad. On the first days he was taken only by the master. He hurt him, but more than that, comparing it to his previous experiences, he was aware that the man used him and he felt humiliated, dirty. He was treated like an object, without gentleness, without warmth. He had to be ready to satisfy his master's yen any time of day or night, in any way he wanted -- it was part of the so called "instruction". It is true, the food was good and he also got an elegant, and very provocative, wardrobe but he was spending more hours naked than dressed. He would not have disliked this fact in itself, he loved being nude, but here being naked was the same as undergoing the sexual caprices of the man who seemed to have an insatiable appetite. The only relief was that he was not the only one who had to satisfy the master, so that at times he could be at peace and dedicate himself to the work that the house required. Once the master crossed Kutkhay in the corridor of the East wing. He made him stop, lean on a windowsill, he lowered the boy's breeches and took him there, while the other slaves were coming and going in that corridor. Kutkhay felt like crying for the humiliation, but managed to control himself.

After two weeks, the master decided to make both him and Jimmy available for the clients who attended the house. Some of them even stayed for several days. In the large mansion there were many bedrooms, a wide and luxurious dining room, several small drawing rooms, gambling rooms and a small theater where sexual shows were held, executed by slaves who had to couple on a low, well illuminated stage, under the eyes of the clients sitting in the half-darkness on the three sides of the stage, and who assisted excitedly, at times urging the boys on with coarse words. Also the "introductions of the new purchases" were held there, and Kutkhay had to couple with three black boys in front of that audience, electrified and excited by his fair skin.

The other young slaves seemed used to that life and also Jimmy seemed to adapt himself quickly without any particular problems. Kutkhay and his mulatto friend had sexual intercourse a couple of times, when they could go upstairs to have a rest. Normally neither Kutkhay nor Jimmy felt any desire nor had the strength to think again about sex, although the two boys liked each other very much. But they often slept in a half embrace, to feel a little human warmth in the midst of such squalor.

After four months of this life, Kutkhay finally succeeded in sending a letter to his young master, whom he always had in his heart, entrusting it in secret to a black pastor he met downtown once he accompanied Moses to make purchases. The pastor bound himself to have it delivered. The hope that Patrick could come to rescue him, gave him the strength to resist in that situation. He didn't like having sex with the new master nor with his "guests", with a few exceptions -- a few of the clients were even agreeable. But even when it was pleasurable having sex with some of the clients, he just didn't like the thought he was forced to it. Nor the thought that the client had to pay his master to have sex with him. He didn't like to be exposed like merchandise, to be put as a stake in the gambling rooms, nor to be put at auction. Neither did he like having to perform in the theater shows, having to please those men in any and every way. Some of the clients really disgusted him.

What amazed him the most was how the other slaves got used to it and accepted the situation quietly and even willingly. Even Jimmy was completely integrated nowadays.

When Kutkhay, one evening, asked him how he could do it, the boy answered with a smile: "But, my friend, here we eat like the masters, are well clothed, and are not lashed... what do you want, one gets used to everything, especially when you have no choice. And if the guests see you cheerful and available, ready and docile, they are happy so also the master is happy and we are treated well..."

Kutkhay became aware that the other slaves quite often had sex between them. Also Jimmy, as Kutkhay was almost never wanting it, several times disappeared to go to slip into the pallet of another slave. One night one of the slaves, a twenty two year old black boy, Tobias, slipped into Kutkhay's pallet.

When the boy said, gently: "No, please, I really don't feel like..."

Tobias said in a low voice: "It's a pity. I like you very much. You see, Goldie, doing it between us, puts things in their place... you are wrong saying always no. So, you'll die for sadness... Why don't you let yourself go?"

"I can't... and I would really die..." the boy answered.

Tobias caressed him with sympathy, but didn't insist.

Kutkhay was more and more depressed. But the worst had still to come. It happened after he had been in that house almost a year.

That day the master had just three guests and one was a man of medium height, stocky, with a hard face, whose name was Stevens. Kutkhay, Jimmy and two more boys were serving at table. That day they all wore really tight blue livery that showed up all their body's shapes. Stevens had eyes only for Kutkhay and for the generous bulge between his legs, underlined by the tense glossy blue silk beneath which they wore nothing else.

He had just served the guest, when the man placed his hand on his basket and fumbled with it: "Beautiful, and well endowed..." the man said aloud.

"Do you like him, Stevens? If you want, you can take him in your bed, later." the master said with a smile.

Kutkhay remained still, his tray in his hands, already used to these heavy attentions.

"Hey, but I like him too."

"I want him too!" the other two guests said laughing aloud.

Stevens stopped fingering him, unbuttoned the light breeches and lowered them down the boy's hips, then started to feel him up under the amused glances of the other three men and of the slaves. Nobody had ever made him undergo that in public, and Kutkhay violently blushed. Even when he had to participate in the shows it was different -- at least the clients were in the dark and it was a thing among boys. Without a word, he put down his tray and pulled up his breeches trying to button them again. Stevens laughed coarsely and tried to prevent the boy from buttoning them, pushing them again down.

The boy jumped back to escape those predatory hands and said with a choked voice: "No, please, sir."

Then the master stood up brusquely, making his chair fall backward, and sweeping the table in front of him with his hand making glasses and plates fall he said to the other slaves: "Bring that little pig here immediately!"

The boys hastily obeyed, seized Kutkhay and placed him in front of their master who, clasping Kutkhay's clothes at chest level, pulled the boy toward him and hissed in his face, with an evil look: "You little piece of shit, how dare you say no to one of my guests?"

Kutkhay, trembling, answered: "I'll do anything, sir, but not here in front of everybody... please, sir..."

"You - have - no - right! Not one! You can't decide what, how, when and where! You are just a slave, a little fucked slave. You just have to obey, and fast, and with a smile, understand? Turn around!"

Kutkhay obeyed. The master pushed him chest down on the table top, and while the other slaves held him fast, tore off his breeches, opened his fly, went on him and took him roughly, with such violence that the big and heavy table shook at each thrust. Meanwhile the other three men drew nearer, amused by the unscheduled show, so that they could better enjoy the scene, and egged the house master on with scurrilous words.

When the master was sated, he invited Stevens to take his place. The man, who was already aroused for the scene, didn't need to be asked twice. He had a member not really long but very fat and he took the boy with extreme roughness. Kutkhay managed not to scream from the pain, but he was hurting. The other slaves continued to hold him fast, and the guests were sneering. Kutkhay's face was wet with tears and he wanted to die. Once Stevens was sated, the other two guests, also aroused by the scene, wanted to take the boy in their turn. Then, the master ordered also the three slaves to mount the poor boy.

At last the master, his voice once again affable, said: "Stevens, as you are the one with the biggest tool among us, and it is you whom this slave offended, take him to bed with you and do him a good service -- make him scream, make him understand who is in command in this house. It won't cost you a cent; rather, I'll be grateful to you."

The man didn't need to be told twice and started to drag the half-naked boy away with him. Kutkhay was now in a state of shock and followed the man like an automaton.

When he could finally go back to the attic, the following day, the boy collapsed on his pallet. He felt torn to pieces, more inside than physically.

When he saw him come in, Jimmy approached him with a hangdog air: "Goldie, friend, I want to apologize for yesterday. I could not disobey, but I am deeply sorry, believe me..."

Kutkhay made a weak gesture with his hand as if chasing away something unpleasant: "I know... it's not your fault... don't mention it." he murmured without looking at his companion.

"But I'm really sorry. You are a good boy and..."

"No, I'm just a slave like you. To them we are animals, not human beings. We have no rights, we..." and at last the tears he had held back valiantly for so long flowed out freely.

Jimmy then, with a gesture of tenderness, caressed his head, then embraced him tight and gently caressed his back: "Now sleep, Goldie, try not to think of it..."

Kutkhay felt the warmth, the affection and strength of the young mulatto, and abandoned himself trustfully to that hug, falling asleep almost at once. He woke up in the dead of night. Jimmy was sleeping near him, still holding him in his embrace. Kutkhay caressed him with gratitude.

Jimmy woke up and asked him: "Do you feel better, Goldie?"

"A little. Near you, yes..."

Jimmy smiled in the dark and caressed the boy's head, and Kutkhay pressed tighter against him. Then Jimmy kissed him tenderly on his forehead: "Sleep some more, Goldie, have a rest."

"Will you remain here?"

"As long as you want." the mulatto sweetly answered.

Kutkhay kissed him in his mouth, Jimmy caressed him, their tongues played lightly, holding tight against each other, their legs intertwined.

After a while, Kutkhay called in a murmur: "Jimmy?"

"Yes, my friend, tell me."

"I have to run away."

The mulatto kept silent for a long while.

Kutkhay repeated in a breath: "I have to run away. Will you help me?"

"It is very, very difficult. And also very dangerous. There is the wall, there are the dogs... And then, you know what they do to the runaway slaves..."

"Yes. But I'd rather to be hanged than to continue this way."

"I see. You seem a white man... you possibly... you can possibly even do it. But you don't have the right clothes, nor money and above all, no papers... And then, would you know where to go?"

"To my real master."

Jimmy again became silent. Then he whispered in his ear: "Don't talk of that, now. We will talk tomorrow, when we will be sure not to be overheard. Now sleep."

"But will you help me?"

"I will see. What I can do, I will, willingly. But I have to think about it... Now be quiet, and sleep..."

Kutkhay nodded in assent, gave a light caress to Jimmy's cheek and tried to sleep some more. The mulatto caressed him for a long while, pondering his friend's request, until he too fell into a deep sleep.

At dawn, the mulatto was back in his own pallet.

In the morning old Moses went to wake up Kutkhay: "Goldie, get up fast, and wear these clothes. You have to bring breakfast to Massa Stevens,"

"He really has to go?" Jimmy asked.

"Yes, he asked expressly for him..."

"But he is not in good shape... I can go in his place..."

"I understand, but those were the orders." Moses answered, sadly shaking his head and looking at Kutkhay with a sense of sympathy.

"It doesn't matter. I'll go." Kutkhay said with a gloomy expression.

He stood up, put on the tight red breeches that the old slave handed him, the wide white shirt open at the chest, and followed him to the kitchen to take the tray with the breakfast. Then he went upstairs to the client's room, knocked and entered. He put the tray on the table and was starting to lay out the breakfast when the man, lying naked on the bed, told him: "Leave that there. Pull off those rags and come here in my bed. For breakfast I want to fuck that nice ass of yours again."

"As you wish, Massa Stevens." the boy answered complying with the order.

He had never called anybody Massa like the slaves did, but always sir. But this time he used that word -- that hateful man was anything but a sir... After undressing he lay on his belly on the bed, near the man, ready for the assault that wasn't late in coming.

"You really have a good ass, boy! Nicely tight, I like it. I'm thinking I'll ask your master to sell you to me..." he said and went on top of him.

He took him violently. Kutkhay closed his eyes and bit his lip to not let out even one cry. He endured the long assault to its end without moving, without screaming, without emitting a sound. When Stevens was sated, he got up and still completely naked sat down at the table for his breakfast, .

"May I get up, now, Massa?"

"Sure, come here, you too should have your breakfast. Crouch under the table, between my legs and keep it in a good shape with your mouth, as I want to fuck you again later." the man answered laughing amusedly.

Kutkhay obeyed while tears of rage dripped down his cheeks.

If, instead of the hateful Stevens it had been his young master there, he would have performed with joy, with pleasure, with devotion, with love! He closed his eyes and recalled Patrick, the so beautiful body that he could admire for so many nights, that he could caress with his lathered hands while he took his bath. He recalled the strong and at once gentle hands of the young man that caressed him so many times, the gentleness and delicacy, the affection with which Patrick always treated him, and sadly asked himself why his young master, even if he received him in his bed so many times, even if he embraced and caressed him, never made love with him. Was he possibly not interested in him? And yet he caressed him, and if Kutkhay each time was aroused by that, some rare times he had the feeling that Patrick also was somewhat aroused... Mainly during the nights, while he was sleeping and instinctively leant against him. And yet, he never took the first step, never... Who knows why? He remembered how, one night, feeling his young master's arousal pressing against him, Kutkhay shyly dared to caress the warm turgidity with a light and trembling hand. He just brushed it but he stopped at once, afraid to wake him up. But that fleeting contact still filled him with pleasure and desire.

And now, instead, he had to do what he did with these vulgar and hateful men, to do things that... that he would only have done willingly for his unique and true master. He hated his present master, he hated Stevens, he hated all the other guests of his master who paid to give vent to their passion on him, who abused him and the other boys just because they were slaves. Who decided they were slaves, and with what right?

Then, a long while later, he recalled Mokoa, possibly dead, possibly a slave, and wished he were dead rather than being used in that way. In his tribe slaves were never forced to do anything so shameful... His tribe was more civilized than were these men...

Finally Stevens unloaded in the boy's mouth, but was not yet sated: "Did you enjoy your breakfast, boy?" he asked with a wicked smile while he was leading the boy again to the bed. Kutkhay didn't answer. The man insisted, with a voice dangerously honeyed: "Did you enjoy the breakfast I fed you, slave?"

"Yes, Massa. Thank you Massa." Kutkhay answered.

"Then make it hard again, as I want to fuck you some more. It's a pity that I have to leave this evening. But we will meet again, I like your ass too much, and also you are skilled with your mouth. I have to convince your master to sell you to me..."

Kutkhay, while the man was hammering inside him, prayed in his heart that it wouldn't happen. When, at last free, he went upstairs to the slaves dormitory, Jimmy was waiting for him, already dressed and ready to go downstairs.

"Goldie, my friend, after lunch, as soon as you can, come to the garden. I have to talk with you."

"Good."

In the afternoon the two boys were able to meet in the garden: "Goldie, I talked with Barney -- we can trust him. The day after tomorrow the master is away and we can possibly try..."

"Are you sure about Barney?"

"Yes... he says he is in love with me and for me he is ready to help you. He already helped another slave to run away and it seems that he was not caught..."

"Why don't you flee with me?"

"It will be more difficult for two. Don't worry about me. Then, too, you have more possibilities of success. Barney thinks so too."

"But... and the other boys?"

"Don't trust anybody, it will be better. Behave exactly as always. Barney is trusted by the master therefore it will be easy for him to organize everything. Now go back to the house, we must be careful not to make anybody suspect anything."

The day after, at night, when Kutkhay went to the attic, Jimmy was waiting for him: "Goldie, tomorrow, after the master leaves, I'll wait for you in the coach house."

"For the escape?" Kutkhay asked in a whisper.

"Yes, but keep quiet now. I'll explain to you tomorrow."

"Can you embrace me, Jimmy?"

"Later, when everybody is asleep."

"I'll wait for you..."

"Sure."

A voice asked for silence. The two boys parted and each lay down on his pallet. Kutkhay stayed awake for a long while. Meanwhile he was thinking -- possibly his escape was near, he would maybe meet his young master soon. This thought made him happy... He felt Jimmy slipping in with him and the two boys embraced tightly, caressing each other, and fell quietly asleep.

The day after Jimmy was waiting for Kutkhay in the coach house. As soon as the boy entered looking around and searching with his eyes in the half-darkness for his friend, Jimmy called to him in a low voice -- Kutkhay saw him peeping out from behind the old master's coach. He went to him -- Barney was there also. The smell of dust, grease and leather was sharp.

Barney smiled at him: "Listen, Goldie -- tonight you will jump the wall at the side of the lane sloping down to the river. At the crossroad you will take the street for the town and you will go to pastor Matthew's church. You know where it is, don't you?"

"Yes..." Kutkhay answered -- he was the black pastor to whom he had entrusted the three letters he managed to write to Patrick that year.

"The pastor will give you some clothes and also fake papers. The master will be away for two days, this is the best moment. The dogs will be asleep, you don't have to worry -- I'll put a special powder in their food, a light sleeping drug that pastor Matthew gave to me, so that next morning they will be awake once more and nobody will know they were made to sleep. At least I hope so. It will be dangerous, anyway, but possibly... If anyway they catch you, remember, you must absolutely give no names -- you did it all by yourself, is that clear?"

Kutkhay vigorously nodded: "Thank you Barney. Dangerous or not, I have to try, I can't resist any more. But, why are you doing all this for me? How can I repay you? And you, Jimmy?"

The mulatto answered first: "No, it's me who is paying you back... for what I did to you."

"But it was not your fault, we both know it."

"But I feel remorse. I didn't like what I had to do, but I didn't have the courage to refuse, so I feel remorse." the youth insisted with a serious air.

Barney interrupted them: "Take this, here are the few coins I have been able to save. They will for sure be of more use to you than to me. The pastor will give you some more money."

"You still haven't answered me, Barney. Why are you doing all this for me?" Kutkhay asked again.

The black boy let out a deep sigh, scratched his head, then said: "Well, you see, boy, I was born here and since I was twelve I've been leading this kind of life. After the old mistress died, her son became the new master and raped me. Then he transformed the house into what it is now... but, all considered, I don't possibly regret that. I can't lead a different life; I could never work on the cotton fields, I'd die for sure in a few weeks, I don't have the right body. And then, I really like having sex with men, and where can I find so many as here? But the master sold all the old slaves, among them my father and my mother, and all the women slaves, among them my two sisters. And on purpose he sold each of them to a different master, as he was amused to separate the members of a family. And for that, I can't forgive him. I stay here as one master is the same as another; here I don't be too bad, and I don't dislike this kind of life, even if pastor Matthew can't imagine how I could like having sex with males. But when I can make the master pay... I do it willingly. And you offer me a new occasion to take my revenge on the master, because he is too proud having a slave who could pass for a white man. I managed to gain the master's trust, in all these years, and this gives me a certain freedom of movement and also a certain authority here in the mansion, so when I can, I take advantage of that. Moreover, this time I got a real crush on Jimmy and when he promised me that if I helped you he'd stop doing it with all the other slaves and do it only with me... well I found another very good reason to help you." Barney said with luminous eyes.

He pulled Jimmy to him and kissed him. Jimmy had an embarrassed giggle, but caressed the young man between his legs. Kutkhay looked at them smiling -- it was evident that the two liked each other and he was happy that Jimmy found somebody loving him.

"Hey, hey, hey... if we don't stop now, we will never stop... I like you too much, boy!" Barney said parting from Jimmy unwillingly, but still holding his hand and smiling sweetly at him.

"I hope you two can be happy, in spite of everything, boys. I, if I can find my young master again... I love him... But I'll never forget you two, Jimmy, Barney..."

Then Jimmy embraced him: "Now go, friend. It is better they don't see us together."

"Don't trust anybody -- some of the slaves are bootlickers and just to get into the master's good book, they'd even be ready to sell their mothers and fathers. Go now, hurry up. And may God save you."

"Good bye Barney. Good bye Jimmy. And thank you."

Kutkhay was the first to get back to the house and at once started to help the other slaves do the cleaning, to tidy up as usual. The day passed fast, and even if he felt inside an excitement growing as the time for his imminent flight approached, he managed to keep his usual frowning air so that nobody would suspect anything.

At night, when he felt that everybody was asleep, he got up, and greeted Jimmy with a light kiss.

The boy pulled him to himself and whispered in his ear: "Barney is waiting for you downstairs. Farewell, friend."

Kutkhay, his heart in his mouth, went down the stairs and into the garden. He saw the dogs sleeping. Holding his breath he crept past them without losing sight of them, afraid that the drug in their food was not enough. When he reached the enclosing wall, he recognized Barney.

On impulse he embraced him and gave him a long intimate kiss, full of warmth.

Barney sighed and jokingly murmured: "Boy, if you did this before, I probably wouldn't help you run away, I'd have kept you here for me!"

Then the young man helped Kutkhay to climb the wall and Kutkhay, sliding down the other side, was alone. He walked fast and reached the hut of pastor Matthew without obstacle. He knocked with the agreed signal. The pastor opened the door and hurried him in.

"Come, boy. Nobody saw you?"

"No, pastor, there wasn't living soul."

"Good. Here, here are the clothes. Change now, meanwhile I'll explain what you have to do. I'll take care later to make sure your livery disappears."

While Kutkhay was changing, the pastor briefly explained to him the new identity he would assume -- if somebody asked him who he was, he was to say he was the son of a corn chandler going to reach his father. He gave him the fake papers, he explained clearly the road he had to follow to go to the North, then made him repeat all the instructions, to be sure the boy understood well.

"It will not be easy, son. When your flight is known, the white men will pass word and each of them could be your potential enemy. Your fair skin will protect you in part, but it is likely that your master will put a reward on your head and that your description will go around and so... Be really careful. I'll pray to the Almighty for you... but if through bad luck they catch you, try not to betray those who helped you."

"Not even if they kill me, pastor, I swear."

"No, don't swear, you don't need to. Now start at once. Remember the names I gave you, but look for those people only if you are in great danger, and try as hard as you can not to compromise them. While nobody suspects us, we can help other slaves to run away, to go to a safe place. Here, in this bundle, I put some food and some coins. It is not very much but can be useful. Farewell, son, go now."

"Good bye, pastor... good bye."

Kutkhay went out and vanished in the night. He walked quickly along the road, covering a lot of distance. He kept on all night and at dawn, a little before the slaves came out to work in the plantations, he left the road and went through the fields until he found a hideout in a thicket of wild bushes. Then, lying down, he slept for several hours.

When he awoke, the sum was already high in the sky. He ate some food and, making sure there was nobody around, he left his hideout and resumed his way towards the North, taking to the road again. He passed several men on horse, a couple of carts and a stage coach, but nobody seemed to care about a boy, apparently a white boy, walking his way quietly, whistling in a carefree manner.

Kutkhay's heart was light. Reaching the North, he had to find the road to the town of his young master. He would approach his house, being careful not to be seen by the servants or by the old master... He tried to imagine the scene -- he would lie in wait so that he could see Patrick when he was going to have his usual morning walk, alone, and then he would show himself... he imagined the surprised face of the young master, and his own joy bursting out... Finally he would be again near the young man he adored... he would again take his bath with him, sleep in his arms... But the old master would not oppose? He didn't know, he could just hope and wait. Anyway he had absolutely no doubts about Patrick. Yes, perhaps he could live hiding in the barn or somewhere. Patrick could come to him at night, while everybody was asleep... He continued to fantasize, walking fast and happy.

For three days he walked without any problem.

He also got a ride on the wagon of a farmer who was going with his wife to the North. He told the couple his cover story and saw that it worked. The couple shared with him the food they had. On the fourth day, it was afternoon, he was passing through a small village with wooden houses, when he saw a fountain. He stopped to refresh himself and to rinse away some of the dust from his legs. While he was bent over drinking from his cupped hands under the water jet, he heard a gig stopping behind him.

He continued to drink quietly, until he felt a hand on his shoulder and a voice calling him: "Hey, you!"

He froze -- that voice had an all too familiar sound. It was not that of the master, but... he slowly turned and was dumbfounded -- it was Massa Stevens! He tried to wriggle away but the hold became stronger while Stevens called to his coachman and another slave in his gig. Kutkhay was terrorized, he felt lost, he had fallen out of the frying pan into the fire.

The two men came and Stevens told them to hold the boy fast, then addressing him said: "Look, look who we meet! Goldie the runaway! Your master is furious with you, do you know?" Then, turning to his slaves, he ordered: "Tie him up and put him in the gig, in back."

The two men did so. Nobody saw that his bundle was left near the fountain and Kutkhay thought it was a lucky thing -- at least they wouldn't find the fake documents on him, and they wouldn't suspect he had been helped.

When he was well tied and in the gig, Stevens stood in front of him, his legs parted, his fists on his hips: "If I give you back to your master, he might give me a reward... but then he will for sure flay you with lashes to give you a lesson, then hang you to give a lesson to the other slaves. It would really be a shame to waste such a beautiful body as yours, especially your beautiful ass that seems just made to be enjoyed. On the other hand, if I keep you for myself, sooner or later he would find out, as he often comes to visit me... How can I justify the fact that you are in my home? After my insistence on buying you, he would certainly think I kidnapped you and he would get mad at me... What can I do with you? I would not at all regret keeping you for myself, that's true, but..."

Kutkhay was trembling but he didn't utter a single sound. He hated that man and despised him with all his strength -- he was not even worth an answer. Stevens continued his soliloquy for a long while.

Then he seemed to brighten up as if he had had a brilliant idea: "Yes, I will keep you for myself just for a few days. I like you, you know, and I want to have my fun with you. And then, I'll sell you to a slave merchant I know, and I'll ask him to sell you farther away, towards the East. So, I'll get a lot of enjoyment first and some good money later; certainly more than the reward your master could give me... and you will not be wasted. What do you think? Aren't you grateful to me, as I'm saving your skin and your life?"

Kutkhay didn't answer, rather he shut his eyes -- just looking at him bothered him. Stevens laughed carelessly, mounted the gig and ordered them return home immediately. After a short trip, they arrived. The boy was carried inside and entrusted to a herculean black man. The man undressed him and, without saying a single word, washed him with some roughness, then carried him bodily to the master's bedroom where he chained Kutkhay naked to the bed, fastening an ankle to the bed post. The boy remained chained to that bed for days, in complete power of the man who gave vent to his lust on the boy several times a day. The man seemed to have an insatiable sex hunger and made poor Kutkhay undergo continuous assaults with a roughness mixed with some sadism. The boy, knowing it was absolutely useless trying to oppose him, underwent that sex marathon keeping inert like an object, in the hope that the man would get tired of him soon.

Twice a day two different slaves came to feed him. One was the herculean man who had washed him.

From the beginning, the man laid out the rules clearly: "If you want to eat, you first have to pleasure me, the master said."

He opened his trousers and extracted a long black sausage, pendulous, with a purple glans and put it in front of his face stretching his pelvis towards the boy. Kutkhay complied without breathing a word.

The man seemed happy: "I always dreamed of getting head from a white boy... Suck boy, suck -- the master told me you were good at it!"

Kutkhay again was plunged into a gloomy depression and he just hoped that Stevens would decide to sell him soon -- anything was better than being in the power of that sadistic, perverse and insatiable man. When he was alone he thought again of his illusion to be free at last, and he mentally invoked Patrick, almost hoping that the intensity of his thoughts could reach the young man and be felt by him. He knew it was an absurd hope, but this helped keep him from going crazy.

After about one week of that hell, at last the man tired of him. He dressed him, tied him up, hid him in a wagon and transported him to another town toward the east, where he sold him to a slave merchant, recommending that he be careful as the boy had already attempted once to run away. So Kutkhay passed a second time through the humiliating experience of a slave market.

In that area the sales took place in the open air, on a kind of small stand, where the slaves were brought one after the other and shown to the audience while an auctioneer sang their praises and announced the base price. If somebody were interested, then a short auction was held until the bidding ended and a buyer was found. The slaves that nobody bought were put back in the wagon and it all started over again in another town. Thus Kutkhay passed through the markets of three towns -- the farmers were not interested in him, he was too white and not strong enough, even though he was not really a weakling. But his base price was too high. Anyway, the merchant was not worried -- he never lowered Kutkhay's price as he knew that sooner or later he would find a buyer. Especially when he discovered that Goldie was able to read, write, and keep accounts.

The fourth town was bigger and more beautiful than the others. It was the county seat, and it was very probable that here the boy was more likely to be appreciated by some rich citizen. So said the merchant.

"You are a slave for the city, beautiful, white, young and learned. You were too good for those rough countrymen."

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 9

Please, donate to keep alive Nidty site, that allows you to read these pages, Thank you - Andrej

In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to read them, the URL is

http://andrejkoymasky.com

If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help me revising my translation into English of another of my stories, send me an e-mail at

[andrej@andrejkoymasky.com](mailto:andrej@andrejkoymasky.com?subject=Your Stories)

(I can read only English, French, Italian... Andrej)