Date: Mon, 26 Dec 2022 14:50:27 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Little Big Man - Chapter 40 (Authoritarian) LITTLE BIG MAN – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY: SEEMS LIKE OLD TIMES Previously: Completing the first of three `stories' that represent the most important incidents of his slavehood since its earliest days, Alex recalls a reunion with Latronius, the hulking Black `maroon' from the ship. Dmitri was away on a business trip, unaware that Ilya, left in charge, had pressured Pyotr into admitting Latronius and three friends onto the compound, where they take unauthorized liberties with Alex's body, including raping him multiple times without lubrication. When Ruslan discovers the damage to Alex's rectum, he reports it to Dmitri, but Ilya puts the blame on Pyotr and Grigory, and Dmitri believes his explanation. Alex, meanwhile, has a revelation while having sex with Latronius. He realizes how turned on he was – and that he had been `changed' by the experience. FLASHFORWARD: THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 17 – ST. PETERSBURG, RUSSIA ALEXEI: It's been two days since Master read about the incident that occurred while he was away. I've been waiting for the shoe to drop – for Ilya and Pyotr to be punished for allowing outsiders into the house and for the brutal gang-bang that damaged me. But Ilya seems his usual arrogant self, and Pyotr seems in good spirits, eager for blowjobs. It appears that Master has taken no action after reading about the incident – which surprises me. My own reaction to the reunion with Latronius also surprised me. Things fell into place that should have been obvious but weren't. There are none so blind, the saying goes, as those who will not see. On the boat, when I fucked New Mexico and liked it, I dismissed it as purely a physical sensation. Not psychological, not sexual. So when I also enjoyed fucking Florida, Kentucky, and all the others, I attributed it to mere friction, unrelated to the gender of the fuckee. An ass was an ass, and a woman's ass would have been even better because I was straight, wasn't I? The danger points had come with Matti and Rhody. When Matti touched my cock, when he kissed me, when Rhody wrapped his arms around me and I drank in his aroma, I had grown hard. With Latronius I had felt it as well, much as I resented his attentions. I was confused but I was so committed to being straight that I made excuses, passing it off as a biological need caused by deprivation, like prisoners in jail with nowhere to turn to but each other. When Master fucked me for the first time, it was painful. Surely this was proof that I was not gay – I was not enjoying it. And when Grigory and Ruslan first pushed their monster dicks up my back channel, it hurt like hell. More proof. Okay, Henri was gentle and sweet, and that was kinda nice but he wasn't attractive. Ivan – meh. Then there was Pyotr, who fucked long and hard but I didn't mind it because he liked me so much. And because he was really cute. That last part didn't hit me until later. But he had a crush on me and I realized – eventually – that I had a crush on him. And Ruslan's smell made me hard. So did the touch of his skin against mine. The night we spent in his bed together – I should have known then. Ruslan and Pyotr – any outside observer could see that I was sexually turned on by them. But not me. I was Captain Oblivious. It took Latronius – fucking LATRONIUS – to make it obvious. And then it all poured out. I realized I loved Ruslan's smell, I loved the way Pyotr would kiss the back of my neck while he fucked me, I even loved the sensation of Grigory's twelve inches pummeling my prostate. I loved Henri's tenderness. (Ivan – meh.) In the weeks after Latronius' visit, I actually looked forward to my afternoon fucks. Other than Ivan, each of them brought something special and I began to stiffen the moment I reported for duty. I even looked forward to being disciplined by Ruslan; it felt intimate and tender in a bizarre kind of way. Yes, he was beating me, but HE was beating ME. It made me feel special, he wasn't going to all of this trouble for anyone else. I knew he was simply doing what he was paid to do, but in my imagination he was doing it as an act of love. It wasn't, but in my fantasies it was. You will notice that nowhere in the above do I describe loving being fucked by Master. Why not? He was a talented fucker, his cock felt good up my ass. But he fucked me as a matter of routine. The others looked forward to breeding me because they only got to do it once a week, except for parties. Master did it nightly, like it was part of HIS job: `Time to fuck the slave because it's nighttime and at nighttime I fuck the slave'. He remained impersonal to me as well. He had to maintain his position as Master – I was merely a thing to be ordered about and fucked, a possession to be controlled. He didn't want to see me as a person; nor did he want to be seen as a person. To do so would make him look weak. So I had no incentive to regard him as anything other than a Boss to be obeyed, a cock that filled my ass every night, an unfeeling automaton who made me sleep on the floor and kept me naked simply because he could. For my own survival and safety, I needed to obey him, and obey him I did. But I was not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right – that I was gay and liked having cocks inside me. He demanded honesty – and I gave it to him, completely, totally – and literally, other than this one area. I lied to him about that. It was a lie I thought I could never get caught in, because he couldn't read my mind. My mind was my one area of freedom. He'd never own that. But I knew I was lying. And I knew he knew I was lying. And he was not pleased with me. He was not pleased with Jackson, either. Jackson, who is no longer here. Jackson, whom Ilya says has no balls. I can't trust what Ilya says, but I'm scared that, whatever Jackson's fate was, it will be mine as well. And so my act of desperation was to come clean. To tell Master the truth. He says he wants to help me be a better slave. Maybe that is what I need to do. Maybe he can help me. And maybe surrendering that little bit of secret knowledge is the key to persuading him to keep me. FRIDAY, JULY 22, EARLY EVENING – KITCHEN It's been nearly three weeks since the party at which my ass was awarded to whoever won that fucking Fucking Game. I had almost forgotten about it until this evening when Master interrupted my dishwashing to order me upstairs to clean out., I was going to be collected soon for an overnight visit with my `guest master'. Who it was I didn't know – at the time of the party, I was too exhausted to pay attention to the results. But if I was to be `collected', it had to be one of the four outsiders present that night. I considered the possibilities. 1. Horst the German. In good shape if beginning to round out a tiny bit, with a thick but not long cock – still nowhere near the salami that Ruslan had. Horst fucked with vigor but not meanness. 2. Semyon the Fat. Thought Master was too lenient with me. Semyon was over sixty and had the smallest dick of the four of them; sex with him would be distasteful, but probably not painful. The foreplay, however, could be. I envisioned lots of toys and lots of sadism. 3. Mikhail the Bald, a.k.a. Misha. Alias Mr. Clean. Misha had named his slave `Hi'- `cunt' in the slave's native language. Nice guy, huh? But Misha had at least complemented my cocksucking. 4. Yuri. On the boat he was `John'. Like Master, Yuri took a slave home from Little Big Man. A slave who could only be one of seven people. And one of those seven people was Matti. I tried hard – unsuccessfully – not to think about that. Matti had taught me enough probability to realize that if there was a one-in-four chance that the winner was Yuri, and a one-in-seven chance that Yuri's slave was Matti, then the chances that I would be spending the night in the same house as Matti were only one in twenty-eight. And even lower – unknowable – odds that I could converse with him freely during the night. I didn't want to get my hopes up, only to have them crushed when I discovered it was a night under the lash with Semyon the Fat. And what if it WAS Matti? We had parted badly – he had screamed at me and sent me away, branding me a coward. Would he even be glad to see me or was that bitterness still welling up inside him, angry that I didn't feel about him the same way that he felt about me? But DID I feel that same way about him now? (Alex, don't ask questions you don't want to answer.) After I cleaned out, Master sent me to the garage. Pyotr was waiting with the trunk open. He gestured for me to climb into it. I looked around, wondering if Master was coming along or at least coming out to the garage, and then Pyotr spoke to me sharply. The only word I understood was `Boy' (my name), but clearly he was ordering me inside the trunk and I'd better get with it quickly. I was terrified, the traumatic journey in confined space on the plane from Mogadishu replaying in my mind. I hesitated, and soon felt Pyotr's hand on my ass. The other hand went on my leg and before I knew it he had deposited me inside the trunk. There were better ways of lifting me, but Pyotr had managed to find a way that incorporated copping a generous feel of my glutes. He maneuvered me into a fetal position – handling my ass more than he strictly needed to – and slammed the trunk shut. I was again in a confined space, barely able to move, feeling like I couldn't breathe (although I could). And full of the irrational fear that I'd never get out and that my lifespan would be severely – you'll pardon the pun – truncated. I heard no conversation – no parting instructions from Master – before the car started to move. Pyotr knew where to go and he drove me there. It took – how long – twenty minutes? Then the car slowed and came to a halt and I waited in silence for what seemed like ten minutes but was probably only about three. I heard voices – Pyotr's and another Man's – and then Pyotr unlocked the trunk and I got out, coming face to face with the Man who would be my Master for the night – Yuri. Yuri! The odds of seeing Matti had just jumped to one in seven. Yuri's slave could be Matti or Rhody or Noisy or Nodak – but could also be Wyoming or South Carolina or Nevada. I looked in vain for a naked slave with a familiar face, but saw only two Men who looked like bodyguards, in addition to Yuri. No slave. Perhaps Yuri had not procured a slave from Little Big Man. Or he had, but had sold him. Or – The odds of a reunion with Matti were sagging. I looked briefly at the two Men accompanying Yuri. They were both sturdy and broad-shouldered, one about the same size as Pyotr, the other short and stocky. Neither one looked Russian. The stocky one was dark, clearly from the Indian sub-continent, and the taller one looked Eurasian – not exactly Chinese but with some kind of East Asian influence in his face. Both were quite handsome. I suddenly remembered myself and dropped down to present my ass. - Well, Wisconsin, at least you learned SOMETHING from my friend Dmitri. I felt Yuri's hand on my ass and his finger tracing down my crack, lingering at my hole and rubbing against it slightly. I felt a small thrill as he teased my anus, and that thrill resonated to my balls – and a tiny jerk in my cock. Yuri noticed. - Perhaps Dmitri is training you better than I realized. Despite your dismal performance answering the doorbell. Come along. FRIDAY, JULY 22, EVENING – YURI'S PLAYROOM The two assistants, at Yuri's direction, suspended me upside down, as Latronius had done. But differently. A rope was tied around my waist to support me and then my legs were pulled down to about a sixty-degree angle with the horizontal. Viewed from the side, I would resemble a lower-case letter `r'. I felt something go into my ass – something small and tubular, but not a tube. Metal. Like a rod. Or a ... Funnel. Something went into the funnel and into my ass. A unique way of lubing me up, I thought. Yuri's two associates had stripped and were standing in front of me. Suspended upside down, my head was at the height of their crotches. - So, Wisconsin. I will call you `Wisconsin' because Dmitri tells me your name is `Boy', and my slave is also called `Boy'. I don't want there to be any confusion who I'm talking to. - (So he did have a slave. A thrill passed through me. One in seven, if he took an LBM slave.) - I should introduce my employees. Nurbek is from Kazakhstan, part of the Soviet Union until 1991. Anil came to St. Petersburg from Sri Lanka to study, and has remained here ever since. I would ask you not to make a joke about his name – he does like anal action, but not in his own anus – but, of course, as you are a slave, the idea of making such a joke is absurd. - (Matti would make such a joke, I thought. But he would have the good sense not to speak it.) - Now, Wisconsin, which of these Men's cocks do you want in your mouth while I fuck you? I looked at my choices. Nurbek had Pyotr's physique – he had the same wonderful indentations at the sides of his abdomen and a washboard stomach. He was tall like Pyotr, though with his quasi-Asian face resembled him not at all. His cock was long and thick with prominent veins. It was uncut and several hairs were visible along its length. Anil was shorter, softer, but still well-muscled. His cock was smaller but thick, and cut. And it was dark brown, which made me think about Latronius' cock, and I started to get hard. - (as deferentially as I could muster) Anil, Sir, if you please. - Well, you're getting them both. But Anil first. Anil inserted his cock into my mouth immediately. I gasped as a surprise pain invaded my asshole. A large dildo was forcing its way down my ass – yes, down, because I was still suspended with my ass higher than my head. - I said I would fuck you. I didn't say with my cock. Yuri pushed the dildo in and out as Anil's musky taste filled my oral cavity. I liked his smell and lavished attention on his balls. He did not force himself on me or injure my throat, but allowed me to take the time to actively blow him. My ass was rich with the fullness of the dildo – which hugged tightly to the walls of my colon – not as long as Grigory's or as thick as Ruslan's. It was like being fucked by Latronius, which sent waves of pleasure coursing through my bowels and to my brain and to my mouth. Anil pulled out and I lunged after him. I wanted that cock back in my mouth. Nurbek laughed and said something in Russian. Before I knew it, his cock had replaced Anil's. A more substantial penis, I uncharacteristically gagged on it at first, even though I have taken bigger. I settled down and worked on him for several minutes, all the while Yuri pushing down on the dildo stuffing my ass. Nurbek pulled out suddenly with an unintelligible (to me) explanation; I was guessing he was about to shoot his load down my throat and didn't want to cum yet. Like Anil, he wanted to do that up my ass. I was taken down and thrown over a sawhorse, where for the next hour I was sodomized by Yuri, Anil, Nurbek, and then by Yuri a second time. I shot my load during Nurbek's fuck, which pleased the Kazakh to no end. Then I heard Yuri speak Russian to Nurbek – I heard him say `Boy', although it could have been a syllable in a Russian word, I suppose – and then the tall Man went out of the room. Yuri blindfolded me and I prepared for what was to come next. I had been fucked in the ass four times – plus by the dildo – and taken two cocks in my mouth. I expected the next act was to be the punishment phase. But I was wrong. There was no punishment phase. I spent the entire night with Yuri without so much as a hand-spanking. I heard a door open and footsteps – Nurbek returning, I expected. My heart was pounding with excitement. Was Nurbek alone? If he had Matti with him – or any other slave – would I have heard it? The slave wouldn't speak, and he'd be barefoot, so I likely wouldn't hear his footsteps. Then I heard Yuri say the word `Boy', addressing him, not me (I was `Wisconsin'). So there WAS a slave in the room! Was it Matti? One in seven, one in seven, one in seven, I kept telling myself. It didn't help. The seven was bad. But the one was more than zero and that was good. One in seven: It neither dampened my hopes nor raised them. I'd just have to wait. Yuri spoke to his slave in English, some distance away from me. - Boy, you have been a slave now for just over one month. I am pleased with your service. You deserve a reward. I am not going to fuck you tonight – I have already shot my load twice in the last hour. Instead, I will let you choose whose cock goes up your ass – Anil or Nurbek. Raise one finger for Anil and two for Nurbek. That was strange. Did Yuri not allow his slave to speak at all? Master had restricted my speech severely, not allowing me to ask questions or speak without permission, but it seemed like Yuri was turning his slave into a Trappist monk. It heightened my curiosity – who was he talking to? Please let it be Matti. One in seven, one in seven. - Two fingers. Very well. Nurbek. I listened for the next fifteen minutes as I heard Nurbek talking trash (I assumed) as he reamed the ass of the unknown slave. I heard rhythmic grunts, from both Nurbek and the slave, but I couldn't place the voice. Would Matti grunt like that? Would Noisy? Would Nevada? Please let it be Matti, even if I had to listen to him being fucked. Maybe, like me, he had grown to enjoy being fucked – a fate we had worked so hard to avoid on the good ship Fundamental Experience – and this was a pleasurable experience for him. After all, the slave had chosen the better-endowed, more aggressive fucker in Nurbek. - That was not your reward, Boy. Your reward is what comes next. You will have noticed another Man's slave across the room. I have fucked him twice, and Nurbek and Anil have both fucked him. He is to be used one more time tonight – by you. As a reward for being a good slave, you may top him. If you would like that, nod your head. . . . I will interpret that as an enthusiastic `yes'. Come with me, Boy. I heard footsteps. - You may recognize this slave, Boy. He was with you on the boat. And then I heard a gasp. - It seems you do. Nod if you recognize this slave. I couldn't hear a nod, but I was pretty sure that's what he was doing. - Who is it, Boy? Who do you recognize? - Wisconsin, Master. And I recognized that voice. It was not the voice of the attempted runaway South Carolina. It was not the voice of the insensitive jerk Nevada. It was not the voice of my enemy-turned-not-quite-friend Wyoming. It was not the voice of my friend Noisy. It was not the voice of my friend Nodak. The voice that I heard was the voice of a man who loved me. But it was not Matti's voice. It belonged to Rhody. And the sound of his voice made me hard as a rock. SATURDAY, JULY 23, NOT LONG AFTER MIDNIGHT – YURI'S PLAYROOM - Do you want to fuck me? - What? Those were the first words we said to each other. It took a while before we were able to speak. Yuri had changed his mind and fucked me a third time after letting Rhody make love to me. And that's what he had done. Rhody gave me one of the best fucks I had had since becoming a slave – well, in my life, then. Of course, being only five-seven, Rhody's member was proportionally smaller than those of most of Master's employees. But it was thick relative to its length and filled my ass nicely. Rhody combined Latronius' fullness with Henri's tenderness with Pyotr's passion. Despite the obvious difference in the size of their respective members, I responded to Rhody chemically the same way I did to Ruslan. Just being near him had brought my cock to full attention. My pheromones went into overdrive. I loved his scent, his masculinity, his very essence. The feel of his skin next to mine sent me into a rapturous state and dictated love notes to my balls. He had that body-builder strength; his sinewy arms reminded me of the hunky handyman. He exuded testosterone. Being with Rhody was heaven. Having him fill my insides was sending me into paroxysms of joy. Those twenty minutes with Rhody were the best twenty minutes of my slavehood so far. And then, deciding he had no more use for us, Yuri guided us to a cage in the corner of the room. It was long enough to stretch out in, but only about four feet tall and just wide enough to hold a twin-size mattress, which it did. The cage opened from the top and had a padlock on it. - This is where Boy sleeps after a party. Tonight you both sleep there. One of my servants will unlock you in the morning. Wisconsin, do you need to piss before I lock you in? - (I did, in fact.) Yes, Sir. Rhody immediately sank to his knees in front of me and opened his mouth. I looked around. - There is no toilet in the playroom. Boy is well-trained, as you can see. And I felt a twitch in my cock at the prospect of putting it into Rhody's mouth, but wished it was for another reason. I closed my eyes as I let the liquid flow into his mouth. When I opened them, Rhody's face was expressionless as he placidly accepted my piss and smoothly swallowed it without reacting to its taste. When I had finished, Yuri then asked the same question of Rhody: - Do you need to piss, Boy? - No, Master. Thank you, Rhody. - Well, if you change your mind, you'll have the opportunity. That mysterious comment became clear moments later. He gestured and Rhody got into the cage. - On your side. Rhody positioned himself on his right side - (to me) Now you. I started to climb into the cage, facing Rhody, but was stopped. - Other way. Anil and Nurbek picked me up and placed me in the cage the way they wanted me – on my right side, facing Rhody but with my head at the opposite end of the cage. Which had me facing his junk, while he stared at mine. - Put yourselves inside each other. Cock, balls, everything – in his mouth. I felt Rhody pull me toward him and then felt him enclose his lips around my cock. He kissed it before opening up widely and taking the whole of it onto his tongue. He opened up wider and soon my balls were inside him as well. I was not a large man but clearly Rhody was having to adjust to accommodate all of my manhood inside his mouth, and maintain his breathing through his nose. I had better get him inside me before he became completely stiff and so I leaned forward and took him inside me in one go. I gagged for several seconds, having done it so rapidly that my tongue was startled, and it took me nearly a minute before I was able to control my breathing, and more than once in the process I had pushed my teeth down on the edges of Rhody's scrotum. I would have apologized if speech were possible. Once I adjusted to the sensation of his manhood filling my mouth, my brain was free to absorb other senses – like taste and smell. I had always, I realized, loved Rhody's smell, and his balls, lying on my tongue, filled me with ecstasy. There was really no room for me to maneuver my tongue around to lick them but I tried. It was sexy as hell, but also made breathing awkward. And, from time to time, my gag reflex kicked in, when things weren't perfectly in synch. How long did we have to remain like this? A while. I soon felt another sensation: rope. One piece tied Rhody's head to my abdomen; another bound my left wrist, which lay on top of my sideways body, to that rope. My right hand, extended above my head, was tied to his feet. Rhody was bound in the same fashion at the other end. And then the top of the cage came down and was locked into place. - You may talk to each other, and have sex if you like. Once you figure out how to get yourselves free. Yuri and his Men departed the playroom, leaving one (dim) light on; you could see but only a little. It took a while, but after about ten minutes, he had worked his head free of the rope and twenty minutes later he had bitten through the rope binding my hand to my junk, and then I could use it to untie the knots, and we could separate. Rhody undertook a complex series of movements, which, had he been an automobile instead of a person, amounted to something akin to a seventeen-point turn. By the end of it, our heads were facing each other. I hadn't thought there was enough room to do that, but clearly Rhody had experience in this cage and knew just how much you could move around within it. A lot of his maneuvering involved parts of his body landing on top of parts of mine, but I didn't mind that at all. Rhody, you could have been a gymnast as well as a wrestler, I thought. And then thought about how spectacular he would look on the still rings, especially with his shirt off. Our mouths now free, he spoke. - Do you want to fuck me? - What? - It seems only fair. You should have a chance to get your rocks off, too. - Rhody, really, after all we've been through, that's the first thing you want to say to me? - No. I thought maybe I needed to. - Try again. - (grinning) God, Wisconsin, the moment I saw you tonight - it was the second-best thing ever. - Second-best. Thanks, I guess. What was the first-best thing? - Making love to you. - Oh, Rhody. - I'm sorry. Did it hurt? That was selfish of me, I know. But I loved making love to you. I've dreamed of this moment since – well, since the moment I met you, I think. - It didn't hurt, Rhody. - Chris. - It didn't hurt, Chris. I . . . I don't know how to say this, but it was about the best sex I've had since becoming a slave. - Really? - Really. - I mean . . . really? - Really. - Oh, god, Alex, that makes me feel so . . . I don't know, but I was feeling so guilty for loving our sex so much, I was so afraid that you were hating it and resenting me and . . . and that's why I asked if you wanted to fuck me because I thought you might be furious and want payback. - I felt a lot of things, but fury wasn't one of them. Chris – listen, do you mind if I call you Rhody? I know your name is Chris and it's important to me that you shared your name and I respect that, but I met you as Rhody and I think I'll always think of you as Rhody. - As long as you think of me sometimes, you can give me any name you like. Other than Boy. - Yeah, well that's my name, too, Boy. - Master says after two months he will give me a name if I've been satisfactory. - Are you satisfactory? - I think so. Master seems pleased with me. It's strange, Alex – is it okay if I call you Alex and not Wes or Wisconsin? - Of course. - It's strange. I knew on the ship – after I fucked Maine – I knew I was gay. I think I've known it all along, I just never accepted it. - Which is why you got admitted to Little Big Man in the first place. - I guess. On the ship, I knew I liked having my cock sucked by guys and I knew I liked having my cock up dudes' asses and I knew I was really turned on by some of their bodies. I think you know whose bodies turned me on the most. - Me and Maine. - Yeah. You and Maine. And then the tables were turned and I wound up here. All of a sudden it was other dudes going up MY ass, and I thought I'd hate it. - And you didn't. - And I didn't. I began to realize just how gay I was. I look back at my life before Little Big Man and I think – Chris, what were you thinking? You were never all-that-attracted to girls. I was always gay, Alex. And I not only wanted ass, I wanted cock. - Sounds like you're adjusting to life as a slave. - Oh, God yes, Alex. I'll be honest – I've never been happier. You know my life was a mess before. My father was abusive, I was on drugs – I was miserable. Even at Providence I was miserable. And then Little Big Man came along and I won the state contest – okay it was Rhode Island, not like winning California, but still – it gave me such confidence. And then on the ship when I discovered who I really was – it made it easy for me to transition here. I was born to serve, Alex. My Master is a good Master. He's stern, but he's fair. Only - - Only what? - I heard Master on the phone to a German friend who doesn't speak Russian – - Horst. I've met him. And he's met me, he said euphemistically. - Anyway, I heard Master say they're going to do Little Big Man again next year. - Shit. What happens to us? - I don't know. That worries me. Master has lots of friends, I guess he'll give me to one of them. I wish it were Nurbek. But as long as I get a good Master, I'll be happy. I've met a couple I wouldn't want. One of them named Semyon. - Ha! Semyon the Fat. I've met him, too. - What about you, Alex? How have you adjusted? You say you didn't mind being fucked when I fucked you, but I know you're not gay like I am. - Well . . . - What? You are? - Yeah, pretty much. As you said, Rhody, we all were. We just didn't know it. On the ship, I denied it – I liked fucking but that was just because I got my rocks off and it was like prisoners in jail, right? And I hated being fucked at first – there are a couple of servants in my household who have enormous cocks – but I've come to realize that I like being fucked, too. - So let me go back to where we started. If you ARE gay, do you want to fuck me? - (Long pause) To be honest, Rhody, yes. - Awright?! We don't have any lube, but you can use saliva, it'll be enough. - Wait, not so fast. I want to, Rhody, but I'm not going to. - Why not? - I don't think Master would allow it. - How would he know? - I'd tell him. If he asked me, I'd tell him. If he caught me in a lie, there's no telling what he'd do. I keep things from him that are in my head, but the things that could be verified I never lie about. - How is this verifiable? How could he possibly know, other than you telling him? - Are you sure we're not being monitored? I'm pretty sure my Master has cameras in his playroom. - Hmm, I see what you mean. I suppose we better be careful. - I'm only talking to you now because we were given permission. - My Master said we could have sex. - I don't think mine would approve of me fucking you, though. Not without his permission. - Could we still have sex, though? - You want to fuck me again? - (sheepishly) Yeah. But only if you want to, Alex. And don't call it fucking. Call it making love. I do love you, Alex – you know that. - Yes. - But I know you are . . . fond of . . . someone else. . . - . . . Rhody? - Yeah? - Do you know where anybody is? Do you know about the others? Did you know I was in St. Petersburg – or even in Russia? - Not exactly. But – I heard Master on the phone to his German friend – he said that Boris was upset because he didn't get a black boy and that `all four of us wound up with white boys'. - So that means – - So that means Noisy is with the Prince. And South Carolina. - And Nevada. They wouldn't consider him white. - Which leaves Nodak and Wyoming and – - Matti. - And Minnesota, yes, Matti. Two of those three are here in Russia and the other one is with the Prince. But I have no idea who's where. For all I knew you were the one with the Prince. But I hoped and prayed that was not the case, because then I knew I would never see you again. I mean, I didn't expect to anyway, but as long as you were in the same country, there was some hope. God, I love you, Alex. - Stop saying that. - I'm sorry. I shouldn't. I know you're in love with him, not me. For your sake, I wish it was him you were having sex with instead of me, if it would make you happy. - Rhody, I am deliriously happy lying here next to you. - But you still wish it was Matti, don't you? - Yes, although . . . I don't know how he feels about me at this point. - He loves you, Alex, he loves you as much as I do or more, I know that. - Have you forgotten Mogadishu? Have you forgotten the big fight? That's how we ended, Rhody. We didn't have a chance to patch it up. We parted ugly. Angry and ugly. - That's what proved to me how much he loves you. - Huh? That makes no sense. He yells at me and tells me to get away from him, he's done with me, that's what he says, done with me – and that proves to you how much he loves me? - Yes. - . . . (calmly) Explain. - He wanted you to be pissed off. So that you wouldn't be hurt when you were separated. He didn't want to break your heart, Alex. He deliberately provoked you so that you could get over him and move on with your life. Because he knew you probably won't ever see each other again and he didn't want you mourning his loss forever. What he showed you that last hour in Mogadishu was the exact opposite of what he was feeling. - . . . You think so? - I'm not a fool, Alex. I could see it in his eyes. He was faking it. It was killing him inside to say that to you. He really loves you, Alex. As painful as it is for me to say this to you, you were meant for each other. - God, Rhody, this is hard. If he's in Russia, maybe somehow – but how could I ever see him? He's probably not in St. Petersburg – your Master is the only one from the boat that I've seen. And what are the chances that I'll even see you again? It was just luck that I wound up here tonight. - So let's take advantage of this and cuddle for a while. - I want to do more than cuddle, Rhody. I want you to make love to me, again. He did, and I spent the rest of the night in his arms. It was like being next to Ruslan the night I spent in his bed – pure heaven. Only I knew that Ruslan wasn't in love with me like Rhody was. The question was – was I in love with Rhody? If I had never met Matti, and had met Rhody under different circumstances – and truly aware of my sexuality – then I think I could have lived my life in perfect contentment with Rhody at my side. But then, what Rhody had said about the last moments in Mogadishu had just brought home to me how much I loved Matti – and yes, now that I admit that I am gay, I can use the word `love'. I do love Matti. And now there was a two-in-three chance that he was here in Russia somewhere. Still, Rhody . . . The question in my mind was: Can a guy be in love with two dudes at the same time? If so, it was a double tragedy, as it was doubtful I'd ever see either of them again. FLASHFORWARD: FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 18 – MASTER'S BEDROOM - And why you choose this episode, Alexei? - I think it's obvious. - IS obvious, but I want to hear you say. - Because it made me realize how strong my feelings were for Rhody. - And? - And how much I was still holding on to my feelings for Matti. - And? - That I was even capable of calling a thing `love'. - Love is powerful emotion, Alexei. You think it holding you back? - I'd like to ask you a question, Master. - Go ahead. - Do YOU think it is holding me back? - Yes. - Do you – sorry, another question. - Is okay. You may ask. - Do you . . . expect me . . . do you expect me to love you? - No. Not in same way. I expect you be one with me. I expect you devote to me. I expect you commit body, soul to me. - That sounds a lot like love. - Consider dog. Dog devote to its master. Dog follow master everywhere, dog look up to him, dog need him, dog crave master attention and dog repay him with adorate. Is love? - Are you saying I'm a dog? - Is imperfect anna – comparing thing. - Analogy. - Da, analogy. So – is what dog feel for master love? - It might be. Hard to say what's in the mind of a dog. - Exactly. Hard to tell what in mind of slave also. But good slave must demonstrate devote – every living moment is to please Master, every thought is to please Master. Is love? Maybe not. But if is devote – then it not matter. Devote good enough for slave. But must be genuine devote, not, how you say, covers on window. - Window dressing. - Window dress, da. Must come from heart, must be real. Is no room for other person. You must rid heart of love for Minnesota, for Rhode Island. Only room for Master. At the moment, there was no room in my heart for Master. How could there ever be, when I ached for Rhody's touch, when I was consumed by thoughts about Matti and how he was coping. When I loved . . . at least one of them. I was approaching halfway through my year as Dmitri's slave and something had to change. Or there might be a change in my living situation – for the worse. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-ONE - AN UNCONVENTIONAL CONVENTION]