He returned to the master’s office per orders and kneeled by the side of the desk for the next hour and a half until the master and Ben returned from their meeting. Oliver’s knees ached like a son of a bitch, but he plastered a fake smile on his face for his master and snuck a more genuine one to Ben when the men arrived.
Ben flopped down on the visitor couch and moaned. “God, I’m stuffed. Do you eat that way every day?”
Relaxing back in his chair, his father grinned. “Of course not, or we’d all be like beached whales. That was a special one to welcome you.”
Ben returned the look. “Thanks, but I think I’ll have Mary pack me a light lunch tomorrow.”
“Whatever you want, son. So, what’d you think of everyone?”
“They seem like a good crew. The sales department in particular is impressive in what they know about the products and the market.”
“Yeah, they’re a great bunch of guys. Did you have a chance to speak with more of the boys in the trenches on your earlier tour?”
“I spoke briefly again with Ken and met with Mario.”
“Oh, Mario. Christ, he had such a crush on your mother. I wanted to punch him in the face sometimes, the way he looked at her. But he’s a hell of a carpenter, so I kept him on.”
“I’m glad, because he does excellent work. I reassigned a slave, by the way, from the warehouse to Mario’s division.”
The Master sat up. “You did? Which one?”
“Mary’s boy, Danny,” Ben said, his eyes drooping from an obviously imminent food coma. “He’s too slender to do the heavy work. He’ll be better at the finer jobs. Mario can handle him and who knows, maybe he’ll have an aptitude for carpentry.”
“Mmph,” the Master grunted in reply before sitting back. “I suppose you’re right, although as pretty as the kid is, he’s worth more as a body slave.” There was a pause. “Maybe you should take him on.”
Ben’s eyes popped open and he sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
The master fiddled with a pen for a few seconds before answering. Oliver tried not to appear as if he were watching and listening to the conversation. It was tough to do. The tension level in the room had risen sharply even though nothing had been overtly said that would cause it. Except talk about Danny made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
Perhaps he was being overly sensitive given what the other slave had told him.
“I mean, I’m aware of the stress you must be feeling now that you’ve taken on this new responsibility, one that I’ve essentially thrust upon you. A boy like Danny could help you out there.”
On the other hand, maybe not.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about having this kid massage my neck,” Ben replied in a slow and deliberate tone.
The master scoffed. “You can have him massage anything you like. I’m just saying a blow job before, during, or after work is a great way to de-stress. At least that’s been my experience.”
Ben winced and his gaze flashed to Oliver for a second. The expression on his face was painful to see. “That boy is only seventeen,” he said in a low voice.
“So what? Who’s to know? He wouldn’t even be a novice at it.”
“H-huh?” Now Ben’s expression went from shocked to angry.
Oliver had only thought things were tense before. Sweat trickled down his side and in the back of his mind, he worried about getting into trouble for staining his shirt with perspiration. He tried not to gnaw his lower lip, but he fidgeted with fear of what Ben might do or say. He was a decent man to be upset about Danny. What good would it do him, though, to have a falling out with his father? It wouldn’t help Danny or any of the other slaves, including Oliver. Then he felt guilty about being concerned with himself. This was not about him.
“Now don’t get on your high horse, son. When your mother was going through the last round of chemo, she was so sick and I felt so helpless. The boy still lived at the house and it felt good to let off a little steam.” Tossing the pen aside, the man let out a loud breath. “It’s not like I fucked him or anything, and I rewarded him for the service.”
Yeah, by giving him ice cream to keep his mouth shut, and maybe so no one could smell cum on his breath. Oh God, Oliver needed to stop thinking about it in such graphic detail or that chocolate chip cookie wouldn’t linger long enough in his body to go to his hips. Ben looked equally sick, but he didn’t start yelling or anything, the way Oliver feared.
“Does Mary know?”
“Of course not. What do you take me for?”
A child molester. Oliver had to literally bite his tongue to make sure that response didn’t actually pop out of his mouth.
A long silence ensued in which neither man looked at the other. Finally Ben stood. “I should get back to work.” He left the room without uttering another word or looking at his father.
