well then
Safar
Cha0s1o1
Safar
During one of my war expeditions, my men and I stopped in the forest to rest.
My men dispersed to perform their duties.
Five hours later I see one of my men approach me.
"Sir," he said, bowing.
"We found the ruins of an enemy base nearby. There was nothing there except a slave chained to the walls of the dungeon," he informed me, and I frowned.
"How do you know he's a slave?" I asked curiously.
"He's wearing an iron collar, Sir," he replied, and I nodded. "However... There is no sign of affiliation," he added, and I looked at him in surprise.
"There aren't?" I asked in surprise, wondering why the slave's previous owner had not marked him with his mark on the back of his neck, either by burning it or tattooing it.
"He's probably just an unfortunate person to be entertained," my man replied.
"Where is this slave?" I asked, getting up to go and see the unfortunate man.
"In the doctor's tent, unconscious. His health condition is not very satisfactory" he replied.
Cha0s1o1
"There was a crash from the doctors tent and a sharp yell. The slave woke up. When Safar entered the tent it was sheer chaos, the slave had the doctor pinned under him with a scalpel to his throat, wild eyes darting from face to face of other nurses and soldiers attempting to help. The slave was gorgeous, and Safar could easily guess what he had been used for, especially with the scarred tallies across the slaves inner thigh."
Safar
As soon as Safar entered the tent, he could sense the energy was unstable. He quickly assessed the situation and noticed the slave had regained consciousness and was acting out in desperation. Staring intently at the slave and ignoring the chaos around him, Safar moved calmly towards the slave with authority in his steps. The Sultan's deep honey voice carrying over the chaos, "Put the scalpel down." His hand hovering over the hilt of his sword, always ready to take action if necessary. The Sultan's eyes holding a mix of amusement and intrigue while looking at the gorgeous creature that was the slave in front of him.
Cha0s1o1
"The slave's pale blue eyes fixed on Safar, and narrowed, gripping the scalpel so tight his knuckles turned white. This man had power, he knew it, but knew not why he was here, surrounded by people. He tried to speak, but as he opened his mouth blood gushed out onto the doctor pinned beneath him, and his eyes widened in panic. He was bleeding, why was he bleeding? Why couldnt he feel his tongue?"
Safar
Safar didn't flinch at the sudden surge of blood, staying level-headed even as the scene became chaotic. He moved swiftly towards the slave while his men rushed to tend to the injured around them. The Sultan's voice still calm amidst the panic, "You should let go of the scalpel, it won't help you now."
His eyes never leaving the slaves' tense expression under the threatening situation he found himself in. Empathy slowly seeping into Safar's gaze as he realized what must be happening inside the poor creatures mind - pain, fear, and confusion. "Don't worry," he assured softly, knowing full well how it felt to be trapped in such a dire circumstance, "I'm not here to harm you." *He reached out gently, trying to take
Cha0s1o1
"the slave flinched as the man tried to touch him, making a guttural cry as he slashed with the scalpel, slicing Safar's palm. The message was clear, no touching. Perhaps thats why the slave attacked the doctor in the first place"
Safar
A low growl escaped Safar's lips at the sting of the cut, but he remained unperturbed, sure that healing herbs would take care of the wound. The slaves reaction made sense to him now - fear and defense mechanism all rolled into one.
Safar responded to the sliding declination with a small laugh, amusement edging his voice. "I see you have your reasons." He didn't push further, instead choosing to let the slave recover from the sudden agitation.
Fixing his gaze back onto the slaves writhing form, Safar mused internally, ""His tortured past has only made him more beautiful, every scar a testament to his resilience. Perhaps even more precious than a filly foal on its first day."" His eyes twinkling encouraging
Cha0s1o1
"The slave spat blood on the ground, his mouth still bleeding profusely, the doctor held captive, clearly still keen on doing his job, gasped in horror." "your highness... the boy's tongue- its, its not there" "And the slave seemed to understand the doctors words, eyes widening as he dropped the scalpel in shock and panic"
Safar
Safar frowned at the doctor's words, turning towards him with a questioning look. "What do you mean his tongue isn't there?"
The doctor swallowed hard, fear visible in his eyes as he replied, "It's been cut out, possibly removed by his previous owner." Safar could feel his anger rising at the thought of someone mutilating another human being in such a manner. It was one thing to take someone prisoner but removing their tongue? It was brutality beyond measure.
Feeling his muscles tensing in response, Safar tried to calm himself down, knowing that the slave needed less hostility there. "He took a deep breath and spoke quietly," "Don't worry, boy, I will take care of you. You are safe now."
Cha0s1o1
"The slave didnt seem to entirely trust his word, but atleast was now cooperating with doctors and healers as they kept his tongue from bleeding, the boys pale blue eyes trained on Safar's dark stormy ones."
Safar
Safar watched the slave cautiously, his eyes never leaving Safar's intense gaze. It was clear that trust had to be earned, a fact which pleased Safar in its own odd way. He liked taking what others deemed broken or unworthy, polishing them into treasures.
He approached the slave slowly, stopping next to the healing station where the boy lay. "I am Safar, your new master," he announced formally. "You don't need to fear me anymore. You are part of my kingdom now."
The last part was spoken softly, a caress rather than a command. His hands twitched slightly as if wishing to touch the slave, but he restrained himself. The boy needed time to understand that Safar meant well. *In the corner of his eye, he noticed one of his
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Safar
men bringing them platters of fresh fruits - his favorite. The sweet scent wafted through the air, and for a moment, Safar almost forgot about the current situation. "Do you like fruits?"
Slowly, he placed one of the platters on a table nearby, out of reach but in sight. A quiet challenge perhaps, meant to test the boy's trust as much as his instincts.
His voice was soft, full of genuine curiosity, drawing the slave's attention away from his injuries to the forbidden bounty. ""Native orchards have produced these,"" Safar explained further, desire flickering in his eyes like flames dancing in the night. "We never import fruits; they are precious to us." He watched attentively, anxious to see how the slave would react to this little
Cha0s1o1
"it may have been a little cruel, testing the slaves trust with something he so clearly enjoyed. Safar watched as the younger man looked at the fruits, as if touching any would dirty the whole platter, gingerly picking up a slice of something unfamiliar and trying to eat it with all the salve on his tongue."
Safar
Safar's eyes softened slightly at the sight of the slave's hesitation.
""Poor thing,"" Safar thought to himself, ""touch-starved and unable to trust anyone.""
He watched as the slave gingerly picked up a slice of fruit, unable to resist watching the other as he consumed the unknown delicacy. The sweetness seemed to be tantalizing, but dangerous because he struggled with the fresh wounds still present in his mouth.
Safar moved closer to the table, carefully picking up a similar slice of fruit and sampled it. A smile graced his features as he savored the taste for a moment before chewing and swallowing. ""You like them?"" he said, eyeing the plate and then glancing at the other man.
Cha0s1o1
"The slave just looked at him again, but his eyes no longer held that violet glint; rather, the man seemed curious about the sultan. He settled himself on some blankets and pillows prepared for him, clearly unused to it from how much he shifted, and watched Safar again. Oh how Safar couldnt wait for the wound on his tongue to heal so he could hear the boys voice."
Safar
Safar noticed the slave's change in expression and took it as a good sign. The boy seemed to be settling down, adapting to the new environment slowly. Although, Safar longed to hear him speak, he did not pressure him into doing so. Instead, Safar reached for some slices of the familiar fruit again, taking care to pick out the softer ones for the Slave.
""Here,"" he said, offering him the fruit with the softest flesh. ""This one might be easier to eat."" He gestured towards the slice with a small smile, pleased with the way the interaction was going.
Cha0s1o1
"Here the sultan was, on a war expedition choosing to spend his time feeding a slave. His father would think him nutty. But there was something addictive in the small amounts of trust the slave was giving him, taking the food he offered, resting near him. Such a large contrast from when the slave first woke up"
Safar
Safar couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he fed the slave the soft fruits. Indeed, back home, his father would have thought him foolish for spending so much time with a mere slave. But it seemed the younger man had grown somewhat fascinated by the boy's gradual trust in him.
"+Such large wings of trust those small gestures carried+", he thought. His fingers brushed against the stranger's lips now and then. Safar made sure to wipe away any juices that dripped from the corners of his mouth while feeding him, an intimate touch he wouldn't subject another warrior to. He already knew the power he held over the slave indulging in his desire. It was intoxicating just how easily the slave gave in.
He reveled in the simplicity of the moment and how
Cha0s1o1
"This became a daily occurrence, the slave had yet to speak to anyone and would refuse to cooperate with anyone unless Safar was present, and Safar gained the habit of eating his meals with the slave."
Safar
As the days passed, Safar found himself growing more and more attached to the slave. The boy's exclusive reliance on him for even the simplest of things made him feel responsible for his well-being, his actions influencing the young man's physical and emotional health. It gave him a sense of power that he had never experienced before.
The notion of seeing the Slave hungry or unhappy made Safar feel... strange. He couldn't describe it, but it was something that drove him to take even better care of the slave.
Safar ate every meal with the boy, trying different foods until he found ones the slave liked most. Sometimes they would sit in silence, while other times Safar would tell stories of his past battles and experiences, hoping to gain at least a reaction from the unsuspecting youth. The slave was still silent when others were around, but Saf
Cha0s1o1
"In the quietness of the tent at night, when the slave thought Safar was asleep or had left, he could hear the young man trying to speak. His voice was raw and pained, an evident lisp as his tongue continued to heal, his body accepting the replacement the doctors had given him. His voice, though clearly unrefined until he healed, was soft and honeyed. Everything Safar hoped it would be."
Safar
Safar had just returned to his tent after a small gathering with his fellow warriors. The air was thick with exhaustion, and he could almost feel the weight of his armor still on him. But then, as he came closer to his sleeping area, he heard something that made his heart skip a beat.
A voice.
He could hear the soft murmurings of the Slave, trying to speak in the silent confines of the tent, unaware that Safar was present. His heart racing at the sound, Safar tiptoed closer, careful not to startle the young man.
The slave's voice was raw and pained, the lisp telling that his tongue had not fully healed just yet. But it was soft and honeyed too, a sound that sent shivers down Safar's spine. He listened to the slave blurt out muddled words and
Cha0s1o1
"Safar found himself wanting to know the Slaves name, finally one day. And watched as the young man happily ate the food Safar brought him with ease, his road to recovery soon finished"
Safar
The day had come when Safar could contain his curiosity no longer. He found himself increasingly obsessed with knowing the young man's name, wondering what kind of person he was and what had led him to that fateful dungeon. But perhaps more than anything else, he wondered about the significance of the name itself; if it would bring him closer to the boy, or make him feel as though they were two separate entities once more.
As the Slave happily devoured the delicacies Safar had painstakingly chosen for him, Safar found himself lounging against a nearby chair, watching the boy's face. Even in this state of bliss, there was not a hint of joy or contentment in his expression. There was only hunger, plainer even than his pale skin.
Without missing a beat, Saf
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Safar
Safar decided to take matters into his own hands. He approached the Slave, who barely looked up from his meal, a small smile playing on his plump lips as he relished the tastes Safar had provided for him that day.
Kneeling beside him, Safar took the Slave's hand gently in his own, tracing his fingers over the delicate moles peppering its surface. He could feel the nipple piercings through the fabric of the boy's tunic and it sent shivers down his spine. Lowering his voice to a whisper, just so that only the two of them could hear, he asked, "Your name, darling. I want to know your name."
For a moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath. The Slave's pale blue eyes widened
Cha0s1o1
"The man took a moment, processing Safars words and actions, before allowing himself a small smile." "what month was it when you found me?"
Safar
Safar sensed the Slave's hesitation, but he was not prepared for the question. It threw him off for a moment, before he quickly regained his composure. He looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the tent before landing back on the young man before him.
"It was the month of August, if memory serves me correctly," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Why do you ask, darling? What does it matter to you?"
As Safar spoke, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. He had expected the Slave to reveal his name, to finally address him directly, and instead here was yet another question. He wondered what it was about this boy that was so enigmatic, so alluring even in his weakened state.
Cha0s1o1
"Then my name is August" "He nodded, as if pleased with himself before popping another slice of fruit in his mouth. Did... did the slave not have a name before now?"
Safar
Safar felt a jolt in his chest at the revelation. August - it was such a simple, unassuming name, yet it seemed to fit him perfectly. He found himself smiling faintly as he listened to the Slave say it. There was something oddly gratifying about knowing that after all these days, weeks, even months, he now held the key to the boy's identity.
But even as he reveled in this newfound knowledge, Safar couldn't shake the nagging feeling that August had not been his name before they met. Had the young man spent years living with an alias, only now to become August? The thought both excited and unsettled him, making his pulse quicken with desire and trepidation in equal measure.
"Ah, August," Safar repeated softly, rolling the
Cha0s1o1
"August just hummed, rolling over where he lay to face Safar" "..so whats your name?" "It struck Safar that it was entirely possible August didnt know he was a sultan. And the thought of being known as simply himself made him practically drip satisfaction"
Safar
The question took Safar aback, not quite expecting the tables to turn so suddenly. Yet, there was something about August's inquiry that commanded his respect and intrigued him. He knew that revealing too much about himself could prove dangerous - after all, power was what defined him. But there was a thrilling vulnerability in laying bare just a piece of his identity, even if it was only a fraction.
"My name, my sweet August," he began, leaning closer to the boy until their faces were mere inches apart. August's eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in anticipation, but Safar simply lowered his voice further. "You can call me Safar."
Safar lingered in that intimate proximity, relishing in the heat of August's breath on his skin, the faint scent
Cha0s1o1
"August smiled, though he seemed to tense in any intimate situations, pulling away and rubbing some of the tallied scars on his thigh subconsciously" "...Safar.. Seems we're both named after months, hm?" "Those scars... tallies on his inner thigh. He knew what they likely meant, and it enraged him. August was a slave, that he knew for sure but.. it seems August was used for sex. Each of those tallies represents..."
Safar
Safar's heart skipped a beat at the sight of August's scars. The realization that the boy had been plucked from whatever life he might have had before, rendered into a mere piece of flesh to be ruled over was profoundly sobering. It reminded him of how powerful he truly was - not just ruler of his kingdom, but over the lives of those in his dominion.
In that moment, Safar felt a surge of determination. He would protect August, he decided. Whether out of pity or desire, he couldn’t say, but something within him compelled him to look after the Slave. And as perverse as it may sound, the thought of being the one to decide the fate of those marks sent a thrill racing through him.
"A most fitting name then," Safar said
Cha0s1o1
"August brought food to Safar's mouth in return, solidifying Safar's suspicion that the boy had no idea the man he talked so comfortably with was a sultan" "youre thinking too hard."
Safar
Safar paused, surprised by August's gentle insistence. He had been lost in his thoughts, deliberating over his own power and influence, the implications of it all on this delicate relationship he was cultivating with the Slave. August, however, seemed to live in a world seemingly devoid of such complexities, and Safar found himself drawn to that simplicity.
"True," he murmured, accepting the food from August's hand and bringing it to his lips. "I get caught up in my thoughts sometimes." Truthfully, he wondered how life would be if he could set aside his duties as a Sultan for even a while. To simply exist in the present, unencumbered by the burdens of his station - there was an allure in that thought.
But as August fed him, their hands touching
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Safar
, Safar found himself pulled back into the present. He felt a surge of lust at the simple intimacy of the act, and a game plan began to form in his mind.
There was something beautiful about the wary trust August had placed in him, and yet, Safar knew that this childlike innocence would not last for very long. Before too soon, the world would surround them both once more, and the cruel realities of life would set in. But for now, he allowed himself to indulge in this moment.
"You have a lovely touch," Safar murmured, leaning in closer to brush his lips against the corner of August's mouth in gratitude. "Thank you."
With that, Safar's hands stealthily reached out to cup August's cheeks, drawing him into a deeper kiss.
Cha0s1o1
"August tensed at the kiss, eyes wide. But when no pain came, no suffocating and disgusting greed, he relaxed, melting into it. To August, Safar was just Safar. He had no idea the man he was kissing was a Sultan, a general maybe, or a renowned soldier perhaps. But not the Sultan. And Safar /desired/ that, to be seen as a person rather than a title, to be desired innocently."
Safar
Safar gasped at the sensations coursing through him as he deepened the kiss. The lingering taste of oranges on August's lips mixed with the heady scent of his arousal, driving Safar wild with desire. In this moment, the battle-hardened Sultan was nothing more than a man entranced by the pleasures his slave willingly provided.
Pulling back slightly, he caught August's gaze, their eyes locking in an intimate dance. He hardened his heart against his role, erasing every ounce of authority and might from his demeanor, focusing solely on the warmth and innocence he saw in August's eyes.
"Do you like that?" he whispered softly, his breath caressing August's parted lips. "Tell me."
Cha0s1o1
"August smiled, nodding, slowly licking Safar's fingers on his lips and keeping eye contact. He was trained well, and probably would cut off the hand that touched him if it were anyone else but Safar. He never wanted to be used like that again, but with Safar... it was okay"
Safar
Safar's breath hitched as August licked his fingers, a thrill of excitement coursing through him at the submissive gesture. And yet, there was something undeniably defiant in that action, a stubborn assertion of self, a reminder that even though he had been taken captive, this young man refused to let anyone rule his soul completely.
"You have a way of making the simplest things feel extraordinary," Safar murmured, eyes warm with fond appreciation. He gently inched his hands lower, skimming over August's shoulders and arms, feeling the strong muscles beneath his touch. "I want to know more about you."
Before August had time to react, Safar leaned in closer, his mouth catching August's lobe between his teeth, giving it a gentle nibble.<
Cha0s1o1
"August let out a soft noise, leaning his head forward to rest on Safar's shoulder. They were both kneeling close to each other on the makeshift tent bed, knees slotted between each other's and hands tentatively gripping fabric. The interaction was steaming up, quickly."
Safar
Safar relished the feeling of August's soft hair brushing against his chest and indulged in the warmth that radiated from their bodies as they pressed together. He ran his hand down the side of August's face, trailing his fingers over delicate cheekbones and soft, pliant lips.
His heart ached with the need to possess this person who had won him over without even realizing it. As much as he desired to control and own everything August had to offer, Safar understood that the innocent youth thrived on the subtler expressions of emotion and affection.
With gentle care, Safar traced the curve of August's ear with his thumb, earning a brief shiver from the young man. "You are beautiful," Safar whispered, his voice low and husky as desire pumped through his veins.
Cha0s1o1
"August practically swooned, leaning in to kiss Safar again, slowly shuffling them closer together so their chests were touching and their thighs were slotted between each others. He hadnt known care like this in years, and he craved it more than anything"
Safar
Safar's heart pounded in his chest as August melted into him, their bodies connected intimately now. He knew the young man was starved for affection; it reflected in the intensity of their embrace and the desperation he could sense in August's eager kisses.
With a growl of desire, Safar deepened the kiss, his hands gripping August's hips, holding him closer still until their hips were rocking together in a slow, sensual rhythm. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the feeling of August's heat against him and to savor the sweet taste of his mouth. The need to possess and protect this innocent soul consumed him completely.
Breathing heavily, Safar withdrew from the kiss and tried to regain some semblance of control
Cha0s1o1
"August didnt even try, he kept rocking his hips against Safar's, mouth hanging open as soft gasps and moans escaped now that Safar's lips werent swallowing them. If he knew he was doing all this with the Sultan of all people, he'd likely flee three kingdoms over. But for now, all he knew was that this was Safar, the gentle, caring man who saved him."
Safar
Seeing the pure, unadulterated desire in August's eyes was like a intoxicating drug to Safar. He could not escape the feeling that this consuming need, born of innocence and unexpected tenderness, had the power to consume him entirely.
But August didn't know who he was - just the tender man who saved him. That anonymity was his strength; it allowed for the purity of their connection to shine brightly without boundaries or expectations getting in the way. And the idea that August might feel fear or shock if he knew his savior's true identity only heightened Safar's urgency to protect this fragile beauty.
He tilted his head, capturing August's lips once more in a desperate attempt to quell the roaring fire inside him. His hands slid
Cha0s1o1
"August whined, looking into Safar's eyes, speaking between sloppy, wet kisses" "...mhn... do you want... all of me..?" "he slowly lifted his hips, hands teasing at the edges of his waistband, tugging them just over his hips but above his crotch. Oh, the gall to tease a sultan"
Safar
Safar's heart raced as August's hands teased at the edge of his waistband, his lips torturously languid against his. It was a brazen and daring move – one that should have made him steel himself against such advances.
But it was also the most beautiful sight he had ever seen; something so innocent yet so confident embracing the forbidden with such boldness. And somewhere deep inside, the notoriously unforgiving Sultan felt his hardened resolve crumbling under the influence of this mysterious captive.
"Yes," he groaned, his body jerking involuntarily as if he were physically responding to the unspoken request. "Take what you want, my dear." His voice shook slightly, betraying the vulnerability the situation
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