Blair's Branding

“Quinn, how he trembles.”
Blair did not realize that he did so until the man pointed it out. From anger or fear he did not know, but he could not stop shaking.
“Easy.” Quinn soothed as if calming a beast. He stroked Blair’s shoulder, and squeezed it.
*This one would take some taming* thought Quinn taking in the hunched shoulders and ducked head.

Blair could not help but flinch at his touch. This man, who owned him now, had that liberty, to touch him as he pleased. Right now it pleased him to slip his hand inside Blair’s shirt to slide them over his chest, belly and flanks. It pleased him to pull Blair against his body, pressing his length to his length.
A cry escaped Blair’s lips and he strained away from Quinn, pushing against his arms that locked his body against him. Quinn let him struggle a moment. Holding him was no real feat. The boy was no fragile girl, but Quinn was a seasoned warrior who came by his strength and stature honestly. So this house slave was no real test of it. He studied the boy closely before allowing him escape. Blair had to back pedal to regain his balance, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
*Taming at some later time* Quinn thought wryly.
He and his compatriots had just returned from an difficult campaign in the hinterlands of the galaxy. And though successful it was taxing to say the least on both man and vessel.
“Brothers I am worn to a nub as, I am sure, are you.” He said without taking his eyes away from his beautiful new gift. He smiled a smile full of danger and promise.
“A nub indeed.” one friend snickered salaciously.

Blair blushed at the double entendre, but was unable to tear his gaze from his captor. For the first time in his life he felt like prey, and he was caught in the mesmerizing gaze of a great cat. A cat who would toy with his prey, not kill it outright.
“Go to your homes and your women…and your men.” Quinn added slyly. Releasing Blair from his study he turned back to his compatriots. “Take comfort and rest and we will meet again in a day and make our report to our Clan Leader, my father?”
“Indeed.” replied another man, “You just send us away so you could take your comfort.” They all laughed and he laughed with them, walking them out. “T’is only polite as I have no intention of sharing.”

Blair thought he might be ill. For a moment he stood alone in the hall, the remnants of half eaten meals on the tables. He thought this might be that fate worse than death, and that he might prefer death over rape. Too late, his new master returned to the hall.
“What’s your name, boy? He asked raising Blair’s chin again with hard fingers.
“B…Blair…sir.” He let his gaze slide away from the Quinn’s hard features.
“Blair,” Quinn repeated, his accent giving the name a new flair. “That is an odd name. An off world name.”
Blair nodded, sick with dread.
“You do possess a strange beauty.” Quinn observed, but more to himself.
He poked his thumb at the pile of gear on the floor. “Take this up and follow me.”
The moment to flee was passed. All he could do was gather up his new master’s things and follow him deeper into the dwelling.

“I’m in shock.” Blair thought dully. Why else would he follow his would be rapist into his lair. It was because he didn’t know what else to do. Would he run where would he go? He’d been here long enough to see what they did with runaway slaves. He saw one girl who’d fled her master be given cheaply to another house to an unknown fate. This man, Quinn, didn’t seem like a bad person GOD what was he thinking? Was he rationalizing these circumstances? He wanted to weep, his knees felt weak, still one foot followed another and he followed his new keeper.

They entered Quinn’s private chambers. The room was large with smaller alcoves through the walls. The floor was stone, as with the rest of the house, and the main room was dominated by a tall, large poster bed and a large fireplace. Quinn pointed him into one alcove that turned out to be a gear room and armory.
“Put everything away and meet me in the bathing room.” He directed, indicating another alcove.

Here was a second opportunity for Blair to make an honorable exit. Amongst his master’s possessions were weapons; blades and blasters. All he had to do was turn a weapon on himself and his struggle would be over. He wasn’t sure how to operate the guns so he picked up a blade. It would be a simple thing to slit his wrist veins. Hand shaking he set the blade to his right wrist - the left was protected by the bracelet, but his mind would not allow it. Damn his optimism, hope was not yet dead - he could not take his own life. He could have wept with frustration and let the knife clatter to the floor. He was weak, too cowardly to do the one thing that would free him for certain. Instead, like a good slave, he completed the task assigned. The tedium and repetition of the it helped him pull himself together while he contemplated his fate.

He’d never been with a man and had never wanted to. None of that mattered now since Quinn obviously had and enjoyed the recreation. He tried to imagine what it would be like to have another man…inside his body and felt equal parts terror and panic…and curiosity? Excitement? That would be sick. Quinn was master, he was slave so he had no say. He could only hope Quinn would be good to him, not cruel or hurting. Panic and impotent fury made him momentarily lightheaded so that he had to grip the wall to maintain his balance on his way to his second task.

The bathing room was large and tiled on the floor, walls and ceiling a stark white. To the left of the entry were sinks and toilet. To the right were a sunken section for showering with a wooden platform to keep feet off the cold tile, and a large hot tub. Right next to the doorway was an inset room for massage complete with table, counter, recessed shelves and relevant equipment. It was a luxurious space and Blair would have appreciated it more under different circumstances.

Quinn stood naked on the shower platform, Blair was unprepared for that, with his back to him. He stretched mightily - tendons and joints cracking and popping. Despite himself Blair studied this man, Quinn. He was tall and broad. His shoulders were well muscled, his legs were long and muscular. His backside was hard, lean and prominent and he didn’t have an ounce of superfluous flesh. There was a great black stylized panther tattoo across his left shoulder and down his back. Blair must have made some noise because Quinn suddenly looked over his shoulder to him, an unreadable, considering look in his eyes. Those blue eyes were striking in their own right, set in that hard but lovely face, and it was all he could do to tear his gaze away. Quinn thrust his chin at the shower apparatus - Blair was to help him bathe.

It had all been part of his training as a valet, but he’d bathed his teacher - a fat, soft old man. It was easy then to imagine he was washing someone’s dog or prize horse and completely divorce his mind from what he was doing. But Quinn was handsome and vital, and had acquired Blair for his own pleasure. That body was appealing and frightening at the same time in what it represented.
Since when did he find men’s bodies appealing?

“Well come on, boy.” Quinn snapped impatiently, his voice fuzzy with fatigue.
Snapped out of his reverie, Blair brought the stool to him and had Quinn sit. After he blended the water to a comfortable temperature he set to his task, first washing his hair and his face. Rinsing away the soil of warring, he slipped the soft soap and coarse sponge over his muscular body; lifting an arm to scrub beneath it, bending him forward to attend his back, making him shift and rise, attending a leg, a thigh, a foot. He tried to be businesslike about this task, but having his hands all over Quinn’s body emboldened him, intrigued him, took away some of his apprehension. For the moment he could imagine they were lovers, that what he was doing was an act of love, not a task set to him by a lecherous master….dammit.
He was finished and stood back.
Quinn leaped to his feet with a shout, re-energized by the vigorous bath. “Whoo!” he cried, shaking himself like a dog - flinging droplets everywhere. He spied Blair bearing a towel, and with a dastardly smile, caught him up in his arms and kissed him.
“Mmph.” Was Blair’s complaint when Quinn pressed him tight against his naked, wet body. The thin shirt went sopping immediately.
“No.” he cried, but only that before Quinn slanted his mouth against Blair’s and forced it open, invading him with his tongue, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth and biting Blair a little.
Blair pushed futilely against Quinn’s encircling arms, panicking truly as he felt Quinn’s cock hardening against his belly.
Quinn let Blair out of his arms a second time.
“No.” Blair said again, backing away wild eyed, holding the towel in front of him like a ward.
“Yes.” Quinn contradicted, leaning towards him with predatory intensity.
Blair fetched up against a tiled wall. He spied the opening.
“Run then.” Quinn challenged when he saw the direction of his glance.
Blair never felt so close to weeping. His options were only to run, take his chances on the street, in this town on this unknown planet, or to stay and be ravished by this unabashedly naked giant, cock jutting and hard. Quinn saw his decision even before Blair knew he’d made one.
“Take off your clothes.” Quinn commanded, thrusting his chin at them. He sat back on the bathing bench to watch.
For a while it was all Blair could do to stand there, breathing in heaving gasps, covering his mouth to stop himself from puking from horror. Quinn waited, hand braced against knee, on the bench.

His feet were already bare. Blair slipped out of the wet shirt easily, but the breeches were harder. He swallowed, took a breath , pushed them off and stepped out of them fast. He couldn’t get his breath. Quinn was suddenly in front of him, hard against him, pinning him against the wall, hips grinding against him, his cock branding Blair in the belly.
“Please.” Blair whimpered.
Quinn braced Blair against the wall with a powerful forearm…then sank to his knees and took his cock into his mouth.
“Ahh!” The sensation took him by surprise and he felt his balls contract. Just a few strokes of Quinn’s hot mouth and he came hard.
Quinn looked up at him, smug and pleased.
Quick as a whip he was on his feet and picked Blair up by the waist, as easily as if he was as light as a girl and took him back into the sleeping chamber and tossed him on to the bed.
Blair came to his senses enough to start scrambling away backwards but Quinn just laughed and snagged an ankle and drew him back. He climbed up between Blair’s legs and pinned him to the bed with his body.
Blair tried to buck him off, but Quinn just laughed again, his breath coming quick with his arousal.
“No” Blair cried again. He could feel Quinn’s cock against his body, he’d never felt another man against him this way. He’d never been on his back with a large, heavy man between his legs, pinning him, rendering him powerless. He was truly panicked now and Quinn took his mouth with bruising force thrusting his tongue in as a foretaste of what would come.
Blair was taken aback by the flavor of his mouth then realized the musty, salty tang was his own spunk.
“Oh God!” he cried as Quinn suckled his nipples and the traitorous things pebbled under his teeth.
Quinn paused, locked Blair’s wrists together above his head in one of his large hands. Slowly he stuck one of his fingers into his mouth, withdrawing it equally slowly now glistening with saliva. He smiled evilly at a horrified Blair and reached between his widespread thighs to slide the slick finger into his ass.
Blair bucked like he was electrocuted, and cried out more in shock than discomfort. It was one finger, one wet slick finger. Quinn laughed when Blair’s eyes almost rolled back in his head from the sensation of his thrusting his finger rhythmically, stroking his prostate. He released Blair’s hands but instead of pushing him off, Blair just held his head and arched, gasping open mouthed as he came a second time, shooting sticky cum between their bodies.

Blair’s thighs fell slackly open as he shuddered through this second orgasm, his second ever with a man between his legs. Quinn reached above his head to the nightstand and dipped his fingers in some perfumed unguent. Blair was relaxed now, more than he would ever be so Quinn reached between his thighs again and returned his fingers to Blair’s anus, this time rubbing the lubricant well into him. Even in his weakened state Blair shuddered anew from the sensation. Then Quinn lifted Blair’s hips up on his own thighs, pushing Blair’s legs high, and slowly, carefully penetrated him.
“Unnhh.” Blair moaned, the pressure making his eyes wide.
Quinn entered him completely then waited for him to get used to the sensation. When Blair finally took another hitching breath he started to slowly but thoroughly pump into him.
Blair couldn’t take his eyes off of Quinn who frowned with concentration and effort as he kept the pace slow and easy.

And Blair wept. He wept from arousal, from ache, from loss of control. He wept because Quinn was fucking him whether he wanted him to or not. And he wept because it felt soooo good, and this shocked and dismayed him. Equally he wanted Quinn to leave him alone but to keep doing what he was doing. He wanted his freedom, but he wanted Quinn *yes like that right there right there right there*.