Little Big Man

LITTLE BIG MAN – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR: FULL HOUSE

Previously: Prince Abdullah unexpectedly arrives in St. Petersburg, without his father's knowledge, and bringing with him his brother Prince Jamal, the American employee Bill Tompkins, and a slave, who turns out not to be his personal slave (Ilya) but Declan, the trusty who had intrigued Ruslan during his time at the Palace. Alexei, sent off to the kitchen to assist Henri, misses the conversation that follows: Abdullah (who was supposed to be at a convention in Turkmenistan) demands to see Matti and then explains that he wishes to reacquire him, offering Declan to Ruslan in exchange. He states his intention not to return to the palace (where Matti would be in danger) and that Jamal, for reasons unexplained, would not be returning either. After Nikolai lectures the prince about the consequences of such an action (especially for Dmitri and Tompkins), Tompkins receives a phone call from the Prince Regent himself: The princes did not arrive in Turkmenistan – where are they?

DMITRI: FRIDAY, 27 JANUARY, LATE AFTERNOON – CONFERENCE ROOM

• Give me the phone. . . .Your Majesty?

• . . . Who is this? It sounds like – Dmitri, is that you?

• Yes, Your Majesty.

• What the hell are you doing with Tompkins? Where are you?

• I'm at home, in St. Petersburg. Mr. Tompkins is here with me. As are your two sons and a trusty.

• 3914?

• I think that's his number. Your Irish trusty, in any case.

• What are you doing with my sons?

• Trying to persuade them to return home. I hope you don't think I had anything to do with this. They arrived here unannounced, less than an hour ago.

• This is unacceptable, Dmitri.

• I agree. We have made it clear that they must return to the palace and that Prince Abdullah must apologize to Mr. Tompkins. Your son ordered Tompkins to have the pilot fly here, telling him the location of the convention had been changed. Tompkins is completely blameless in this, Your Majesty. He is quite upset about the deception, and you must not hold him accountable.

• . . . I see. Let me talk to Abdullah.

I extended the phone to the prince, who refused to take it.

• Your Majesty, he is not agreeing to talk to you.

• I am not surprised. He did not respond to my calls or texts. Nor did Jamal.

• Perhaps their phones are off. . . . Prince Abdullah smiled when I said that, so I suspect I am correct.

• Very well. If he will not talk to me, I will talk to him. Expect us there tomorrow.

• Your Majesty?

• Khalid will accompany me. Mustafa can manage things here in our absence.

• (through clenched teeth) Very well, Your Majesty.

• And are you still having those parties on Saturday nights?

• (hesitantly) Yes, Your Majesty.

• Increase your guest list by two. We will stay overnight and take my sons and my slave home to the palace on Sunday.

• Very good, Your Majesty.

The only thing that was `very good' about it was if they were successful in ridding the household of these Arab invaders. But from now until Sunday, it was going to be hell.

`Increase your guest list by two'. I had already invited Horst, Semyon, and Misha, in addition to Nikolai, Ruslan, and my servants and employees. Then I had to include Prince Abdullah, Prince Jamal, and, to be polite, Tompkins. That was fifteen. Now with the Prince Regent and Khalid that would be seventeen, plus me. It was a good thing we had three slaves to share.

ALEXEI: FRIDAY, 27 JANUARY, EVENING – PLAYROOM

With Master Ruslan owning Matti, Nikolai had taken over the administration of our nightly discipline. But tonight he was not here. Instead, the party consisted of Master Ruslan, the two princes, plus Matti, me, and the slave they had brought – who was definitely not Ilya. Given a second look, I recognized him as the trusty who had greeted us at the palace and shown Master to his room – the one who seemed to recognize Master Ruslan. Did I remember that he had an Irish accent?

The young princes had changed from their Western wear to their more comfortable Arabian robes. At dinner I had learned that they were staying overnight, and that the younger prince was named Jamal. But no clue as to why they were here.

With Nikolai absent, I expected Master Ruslan to administer the discipline, but instead Prince Abdullah ordered the trusty to give Matti and me twenty strokes on our backs with a heavy flogger and then ten solid strokes with the cane across the buttocks. The trusty then went into sub mode as the prince applied an equal number of strokes to him, though with less force than the trusty himself had dished out.

RUSLAN: I then ordered the three slaves to position themselves over fucking benches and Abdullah and I secured and lubed them. I explained the situation, particularly for Alexei, who may have wondered why what appeared to be a nightly fuck was going to occur without his Master present.

• As a courtesy to Prince Abdullah, I am allowing him to give his former slave his nightly fuck one last time. Matti, if he requires you to speak, you will refer to him as Your Highness' and not Sir'. That applies to you, too, of course, Alexei.

• (Abdullah, in Arabic) You told Matti it was for one last time. It will not be the last time.

• (in Arabic) That remains to be seen. There will be a party tomorrow night, and you may be granted access to Matti at that time. Or not; when more than one slave is present, it is far from certain who will fuck which slave.

• (Abdullah, in Arabic) As long as I am here, I demand access to Matti. I am not leaving here without him. And we are not going to return to the palace where they will put him on the dome.

• (me, in Arabic) If you do not stop this insistence, I will translate your remarks into English for Alexei and Matti. (in English) Since the Prince will be fucking my slave, I will be fucking his – or rather, his father's slave, whom he has brought here. And Jamal will do the honors for you, Alexei.

• (Jamal, in Arabic) I think I'll pass, thank you. I just want to watch.

• (in Arabic) Your Highness, I think it will be good experience for you. Declining this offer will show weakness in front of the slaves, never something you should do.

• (Jamal, a bit nervously) I'll just watch. I'll learn something by watching.

This I doubted. It wasn't as if he had never before seen a slave getting fucked and needed instruction on how to do it. The palace was the best training ground in the world for learning how to deal with slaves.

I decided to give him some cover, nonetheless.

• I'm sorry, Alexei. His Highness has something of a headache tonight. Your Master will fuck you in his bedroom as usual.

Abdullah looked disgusted, Jamal looked embarrassed, and Alexei looked confused as I untied him and told him to stand against the wall.

Abdullah shucked his robe, his eagerness to fuck Matti obvious in profile. Before I knew it, Abdullah plunging his member into Matti's receptive cunt. Having more components to my ensemble, I undressed more slowly, but my eagerness for the upcoming event was equally transparent.

• Are you ready, Declan?

• Yes, sir.

And he was. I positioned myself behind his well-used hole and plunged in with a single thrust. He took it like he was sucking on a straw, welcoming my wrist-thick member into his body. I rode him good and hard, and he pushed back against me with every thrust, encouraging me to go deeper and deeper. I knew that the palace avoided acquiring slaves who had identified as gay prior to their slavery, but had to wonder about Declan, given the enthusiasm with which he greeted my penis. His grunts as I pounded him were expressions of pure joy. Meanwhile, Abdullah was reaming Matti to the best of his ability, but I could see that, despite his enthusiasm, Abdullah was no match for the fucking skills of myself or Dmitri. Or Grigory or Pyotr either, for that matter.

I shot my load more quickly into Declan than I would have liked, then stuck my cock into his mouth for cleaning. A trained slave, he began working his tongue on it, encouraging me to become hard again, and I grabbed his head and face-fucked him for a second, albeit smaller, orgasm.

I looked over at Jamal, and, to my pleasure, saw a pronounced bump in the way his robe fell: The boy was hard as a rock. At least he was getting off on this. It was worrisome that he wasn't more active, but there was still a year until he was given his own boy to dominate. The tenting in his robe was a good sign that he would come around in time. The conversation that followed was all in Arabic.

• Did you enjoy that, Jamal?

• (Jamal) Yes, Mister Ruslan. That was hot. That was really hot.

• Tomorrow night, then, you will join us?

• (Jamal) Perhaps I will. In fact, I think I will fuck Alexei now. But I don't want anybody to watch.

• (Abdullah) My brother doesn't like his sex in public, I guess.

• He'll have to get over that. Sex at the palace is hardly kept in the closet. So to speak.

• (Abdullah, grinning) No. Although I once fucked Matti in the closet.

• (Jamal) Actually, `Dullah – and Mister Ruslan – could Matti stay? Maybe it's okay if somebody watches, so I can get used to it – but not one of you, you'd make me too nervous.

Abdullah looked at me and rolled his eyes. I shrugged and gave him a `he'll grow out of it' look.

I informed Alexei that the young prince would be fucking him after all, and that Matti would stay on to observe. Then Abdullah, Declan and I left the room, as Jamal fumbled with his robe but kept it on while we were still in the room.

ALEXEI: The young prince looked around nervously, then walked to the door, opened it and looked around, as if to make sure that his brother and Master Ruslan were nowhere to be seen. He remained dressed in his robe and approached me.

• I'm not going to fuck you. Your name's Alexei?

• Yes, Your Highness.

• You don't have to call me that. I just want to talk to you. To both of you. Come over here where there are some chairs.

Matti and I followed him, sharing confused glances. This didn't feel right, but we had to obey him, even if he wasn't yet sixteen. So far as the hierarchy went, this biological boy was a Man, and although I was of legal age now (and Matti nearly so), we were biological men who were boys. And so we followed him and sat down.

• (Jamal) I give you permission to speak freely. You don't have to wait for a question to say something, okay?

• Yes, Sir.

• So you knew Matti before you were captured?

• (surprised that he knew that) Yes, Sir.

I was also surprised that he said Matti' rather than boy' or `4387'. He picked up on that.

• Oh, Abdullah always calls him that in private. I think slaves should have names – I mean, they're people, too, right?

• (this could be a test, but the boy seemed guileless) That is not for me to say, Sir.

• You don't know if you're a person?

• Yes, Sir. I know.

• So you are, right?

• If you say so, Sir.

• I say so. You are a person. You're just a person who happens to be a slave. What's it like?

• Sir?

• What's it like? Being a slave?

I looked at Matti. He looked at me. He waved his hand, slightly, as if volunteering to field this one.

• (Jamal) Yes, Matti, you can answer. Of course, you can answer. You can both say anything at any time. Anything. It won't go further, I promise.

• (Matti) Anything?

• (Jamal) Anything.

• (Matti, with a grin) Can we disclose our secret plan to murder all the Masters and take over the world?

• (Jamal, delighted) Yes! Yes, Matti, I want to hear all about it. But don't murder me – I'm not a Master for another year.

• (Matti, to me) What do you think? Should we spare him?

Matti, you're living dangerously. But it was wonderful to see the old Matti given a chance to emerge. I decided to play along.

• Was he on the list?

• (Matti) I can't remember.

• Better call your friends at the Helsinki Assassination Squad and find out.

• (Matti) Yes, the good old HAS. Of course, some people refer to them as HAS-beens.

• (Jamal) See? You ARE people. You're funny.

• (Matti) Well, that's why they made us slaves. Too many funny people in the world, an over-population of flippant comics.

• Matti, let's not go overboard here. Your Highness, we're still obedient, respectful slaves.

• (Jamal) No, no, it's fine. I want to see the person behind the slave.

• But, if I may say so, Sir –

• (Jamal) You can, you can. I told you, you can say anything.

• When you're a slave, you can't let it show that you're a person. I mean, we don't – we don't have status. We're – officially, we don't count. It's like – in the original U.S. constitution, they only counted slaves as 3/5 of a person.

• (Matti) And we count about 3/5 of a person less than that.

• But once you accept that –

• (Matti) It's okay.

• It's more than okay, really. When I was having trouble adjusting to slavery, Master said something to me that I didn't understand at the time. He said that when you accept that you're worthless, then you will have worth. And that you should be proud of having no pride.

• (Jamal) That doesn't make sense.

• It does, if you're a slave. If you're really a slave . . . Sir, may I ask you a question?

• (Jamal) Yes, of course, I keep telling you, anything?

• Why are you asking us this? And why don't you want to fuck me?

• (Matti) That's two questions.

• Finnish Calculation Wizard.

• (Matti) Yes, I can count to at least two.

Jamal's mood had become more clouded though, despite our banter. He looked around as if he was deciding whether or not to say something, then looked straight at Matti, and then at me. I could read his mind: can I trust them? And then I saw the moment where he decided he could.

• (Jamal) I'll tell you, but you can't tell anyone. Not anyone. Especially not my brother. And especially not my father or my uncle.

How the hell would I tell his father or his uncle? They were back at the palace and – oh, shit. If he was concerned I would tell them, he must be expecting me to go back to the palace. Oh, God, please no. These thoughts were abruptly ripped from my mind by what he said next.

• (Jamal) I was raped.

What? Matti and I looked at each other. What do you say to that? Matti went for the literal.

• (Matti) Someone forced you to have sex with them?

• (Jamal, whispering) Yes.

• (Matti) But you were like, on top, right? They made you fuck them.

• (Jamal) No. I got fucked in the ass.

• (Matti) My God, who did that? It wasn't one of your uncles, was it? I mean – I swear I won't say anything, I mean, well, who would I tell, I mean I'm not allowed to tell, much less – well how would I even see your uncles, unless –

It was uncharacteristic for Matti to get this flustered. I was just as flustered, but my flustering took the form of being too flustered to speak.

• (Jamal) It wasn't my uncle. It wasn't anyone in the family.

• (Matti) A guest – it wasn't the diving coach, was it?

• (Jamal) Worse than that. It was a slave.

WTF?!!! I mean, WTF??!

• (Matti) Did you say a slave?

• (Jamal, nodding) My brother's slave. His new one, the one who replaced you. 4398.

• Ilya? Ilya raped you?

• (Jamal) I don't know his name. Blond, a little taller than you – had a Russian accent.

• That's Ilya!

• (Jamal) I didn't like him from the start. He was rude to Abdullah, and arrogant. He wasn't like a proper slave.

My head was exploding. Ilya, having been enslaved, had raped Jamal.

• (Matti) Does anybody know?

• (Jamal) Oh, yes. He's on the dome now. They castrated him – completely, you might say. Nothing left down there at all. And he'll be executed within weeks.

• And you? What about you?

• (Matti) Sometimes, in some places, when a man is victimized -

• (Jamal) I was the subject of some gossip, yeah. Maybe I encouraged him. Maybe I led him on. Maybe I asked him to fuck me. Maybe I ordered him to. That's what some people say. And in case you're wondering – No I didn't, but I'm not sure Uncle Khalid believes me.

• Your Highness, I'm so sorry.

• (Jamal) But you know what the worst thing was?

• (not wanting to know) Sir?

• (Jamal, softly) I liked it.

There were tears in his eyes when he said that. And then he rose from his seat.

• (Jamal) I liked it. I'd rather get fucked than do the fucking. There's nothing worse in the world when you're a Man and you'd rather be a slave. On Sunday I'll turn sixteen. And one year from then, I'll be given a eunuch that I'll have to fuck every day.

There was nothing to say to this.

• (Jamal) I've said enough. I should go upstairs. Remember, I fucked you, okay, Alexei?

• Your Highness, I can't lie to my Master. If he asks about it, I'll have to tell him the truth.

• (Matti) Your Highness, put your cock in his mouth. That way, Alex – Alexei – can say that he sucked your cock. And he won't have to lie.

The young prince looked grateful for the suggestion. I got down on my knees, and Prince Jamal lifted his robe, revealing the smallest cock I had seen in my seven months of slavery. It was limp by now, and I realized that the erection I had spotted earlier, while Matti and Declan were being fucked, was Jamal fantasizing about being one of them, not about being Master Ruslan or Prince Abdullah.

I took it into my mouth and worked on it for – oh, ten seconds, before he withdrew.

• (Jamal) Now. Now you can say you sucked my cock. Would your Master ask you for how long?

• He doesn't usually. Just whether I enjoyed it. I guess we should go upstairs, too.

• (Jamal) You don't want to stay a while and talk?

• (Matti) We can't. We're not allowed to talk to each other. It's not like at the palace where slaves can talk when they're alone.

• (Jamal) Imagine. Something that's better for slaves at the palace than outside. So you're friends, you knew each other before slavery, you've been separated all this time, and now that you're back together, they don't let you talk?

• Master said maybe on Sunday, if we weren't needed on duty.

• (Jamal) That's not right, you should have a chance to talk.

• We can't go against orders, Sir.

• (Jamal) . . . What if I ordered you to talk?

• (Matti) Master said we couldn't talk unless given permission. He didn't say unless HE gave us permission.

• I think my Master said the same thing.

• (Matti) I spot a loophole.

• (Jamal) Good. I am now ordering you to take the next thirty minutes and talk to each other.

• Sir, might I suggest fifteen minutes? If you're upstairs, they'll wonder where we are.

• (Jamal) Okay, fifteen minutes. I'll try to keep my brother and your Masters from seeing me for fifteen minutes. Where's a good place to go where I wouldn't be seen?

• Try the laundry room. No one will go in there on a Friday night. It's the first door on the right after you go up the stairs, easy to slip into without being seen, as long as no one's in the corridor.

• (Jamal) Thanks. And – remember – don't tell anyone.

• We can't. We're slaves.

He left us.

• Matti, I'm scared.

• Me, too. Fifteen minutes of talking? I'm out of practice. I'm not used to talking more than fifteen seconds.

• So let's not blow it with Finnish frivolity, okay? Not when I'm this scared.

• Right, sorry. Finnish frivolity is my natural defense mechanism. What are you scared about, specifically? Other than the fact that we don't know what the fuck is going on.

• I'm scared that they're here to take one of us back with them. Why else would they be here? They want something. And I can't think of anything they'd want other than you or me.

• Yeah, well that's logical. But Master said he was allowing Prince Abdullah one last fuck. Emphasis: last.

• And then the prince said something back in Arabic and his tone didn't seem like it was gratitude. It was more like arguing. I wish to hell I knew what they said.

• I'll be honest. I'm worried, too. More about you than about me.

• If he takes you back, you'd have to go on trial.

• Maybe not. This Ilya clown didn't work out very well. Master Abdullah needs a replacement. I'm a known quantity. Compared to this Ilya dude, I'm roses and caviar.

• Roses and caviar. Interesting mix.

• A Finnish delicacy. You fry the roses in whale oil and then –

• Matti.

• Sorry. Master Abdullah wouldn't want me back if it was a death sentence. He must have worked out a deal with his uncles for me to pass my trial, or at least keep me off the dome.

• Unfortunately, that makes sense. But then why did he come and not his uncles, who would have more influence and more authority? I mean, he's not even twenty-one yet, is he? If the palace is behind this, why would they send him and not someone older?

• Hmmm. I hate to admit it, Cheesehead, but you just made a good point.

• And why would he come with his brother? And why would he bring a slave?

• He wants to trade the slave for one of us?

• That makes sense. But why him? Master likes smaller guys, and I think Master Ruslan does too. There's dozens of smaller guys at the palace. Why not bring one of them if they want to trade?

• Have you been taking logic lessons? Worthy analysis, my friend. Why, indeed.

• That's the only thing that gives me hope. They brought the wrong slave. Master likes blond boys, my size – that's what everybody says.

• In which case they should have brought somebody like Idaho, who's blond and has a great ass.

• . . . Matti.

• Alex.

• . . . I don't want to lose you. Again.

• I don't think you will. Master won't give in to them, and neither will Master Dmitri.

• Even if we get past this – we only have a few months together, you know.

• Huh?

• Master's taking me on the boat for this year's Little Big Man. When I come back, you'll be gone.

• What do you mean, I'll be gone?

• Master Ruslan's setting up on his own. He'll be taking you with him.

• Shit.

• Shit, indeed.

• . . . Is our fifteen minutes up?

• Yeah, it might be. Matti, before we go.

• What, I suppose you want a kiss or something?

• Yes, please.

• Well, okay. Since you said `please'.

Thirty seconds later:

• I do love you, Matteus Laukkonen.

• And I love you, Cheesehead Sorenson. Almost as much as I love lutefisk.

• Lutefisk is not Finnish. It's Norwegian.

• I'm branching out.

DMITRI: FRIDAY, 27 JANUARY, LATE EVENING – MASTER BEDROOM

Ruslan stopped by after he finished in the playroom to let me know that Alexei's nightly fuck had been entrusted to Jamal, but, given the boy's history and previous reluctance to engage with slaves, he suggested I interrogate Alexei to make sure. Technically, his mandated daily obligation had been met in the afternoon, but a pre-bedtime fuck was part of his routine, and I didn't want to break it.

• Did Jamal fuck you?

• No, Master, not in the ass.

• In the mouth?

• I took his cock in my mouth, Master.

An evasive answer. Alexei was good at answering indirectly.

• How long was his cock in your mouth?

• (pause) About ten seconds, Master.

• As I thought. Lie on the bed and put your feet behind your neck.

Something I knew he was limber enough to do. I applied the lube to his hole and then went into the bathroom to wash my hands. I left Alexei on the bed, exposed and vulnerable (and uncomfortable). He'd have to wait a bit longer for the gift of my cock. There was something I needed to do first. Partly based on information gleaned from Ruslan, and partly based on my own suspicions.

I picked up the phone, and dialed Tcherepnin's number, speaking to him, of course, in Russian.

• Gennady? Sorry to bother you so late. Can you come here tomorrow?

• When? And why?

• Morning would be best, or early afternoon. I'm expecting some visitors tomorrow, but I'm not sure what time they'll arrive.

• I can be here at eleven. Will that do?

• Yes, perfect. And bring a lie detector.

• Why?

• Something I want to find out.

• I'll have to bring Bobrovsky. He's the polygraph expert.

• Okay.

• And you know what he'll want.

• I can't have Alexei used tomorrow during the day. A party tomorrow night.

• Well, you know what the solution to that is.

• Invite you to the party.

• And Bobrovsky.

• And Bobrovsky.

Sigh. Two more for the party list. What are we up to now, nineteen? Twenty tops, counting me. And only three slaves. And if they all stay over, I don't have enough rooms.

Tomorrow was shaping up to be one hell of a day.

[COMNG UP NEXT: CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE - THE LIE DETECTOR]