GENTLE TOUCH

Part One

Hercules stumbled dazed, his torn muscles screamed at him to stop and rest but he knew he had to keep going, that last monster almost killed him, his strength waning with each step, he forced himself to keep walking a little further. Finally he fell to his knees, the scorch marks on his back shon in the moon light with the red and blackness. Blood dripped from the open wound on his thigh, "father" he cried out as his eyes closed and he let the blackness take over.

Slowly he opened his eyes, squinting against the brightness of the sun, groaning he tried to sit up, when he realised his hands were chained to the side of a wagon, tugging slightly he tested the chains they should have easily snapped, then he realised his ankles were shackled also. His senses alerted now, he tried to sit up, why couldn't he snap the chains? Movement from the end of the wagon caught Hercules' eye and he turned to face his captors.

Two men stood staring at him, one tall and extremely thin, he had dirty straight black hair that hung limpy past his shoulders, his face marked by pox sores, and his dull grey eyes looked unfocused, the other was also tall but heavily built, his head shaved of all his hair was tattooed with exotic pictures and designs, his green eyes appeared to be almost transparent.
In his hand he held a small bottle, filled with a thick black substance. His smile showing rotten yellow teeth made him look like evil itself. He moved around the wagon until he stood behind Hercules, roughly he grabbed him by the hair and forced his head back until his neck was going to snap. "Time for more of your medicine big guy!" he smirked, the other man grabbed Hercules' chin and squeezed his jaw until his mouth opened slightly, then the foul liquid was poured down his throat, making him choke it down. Hercules' head spun and he could feel a fog settling around him, his eyes began to get heavier, as the poison invaded his body. Vaguely he could hear them talking, but he couldn't understand what was being said, he felt the wagon move, but in which direction he was unsure of.

Days passed the same, each time he seemed to wake more of the poison was forced down his throat, he knew the wounds he received off the monster Hera had sent were healing, but he was so confused, he felt so weak.
Finally the wagon stopped Hercules could feel himself being dragged from it and half carried towards a ship, he had no strength or will to fight them the confusion taking hold totally. Through his blurred vision he tried to take in his surroundings, they chained him to a post in the centre of the cells in the ship. There were no other prisoners in his cell, but in another at the furtherest end there were a group of slave girls, and in one next to it there were a group of young men chained together. Hercules sighed and rested his throbbing head on his arm, he had to get out of here, and find out what was going on, if only he could muster up enough strength. Before he could do anything, his tormentor came down the steps carrying another bottle. Desperately he tried to wrench himself free from the shackles to fight but he couldn't. Resigned he glared at his captor, silently vowing to exact his revenge, as the foul liquid was once again poured down his throat, this time though, he was not left alone, he felt the touch of the flame sear his skin dully, at least the poison stopped the pain as well, closing his eyes, he thought of Deinenara and the children playing in the Elysian Fields, he flinched again but once again he felt nothing as he could see their faces and hear their laughter.
Exhaustion mingled with the effects of the poison and his head dropped to his chest, oblivion took over Hercules and he let himself fall into the blackhole.
Hercules could hear the voices and cries of the slaves, but it didn't register with him anymore, he could no longer remember who he was or what had happened to him.

The sun blinded the prisoners as they were led onto the deck of the ship, the young women were herded into one corner, the young men into another, then they brought him out, he gazed around trying to focus in the daylight, although he had lost weight, and had shadows under his eyes, he was still muscular and so handsome. He let himself be led by the chains around his wrists without fighting them. He was a slave after all wasn't he?
Roughly they were all herded into a wagon and driven into the centre of the port town. A large stage was set in the middle of the town's square, surrounded by poles. In his fog of existance he realised it was a slave block, for auctions and by the look of the crowd there was about to be one, and he was a part of it.

From beneath her veil she watched disinterested as they brought in the new ship load of slaves to be sold, trailing after her father, she stared around her trying to hide her bored air. Then she saw him, stopping still she watched as the chained him to a post, the sun glistened on his massive chest, he had a defeated air about him, but still showed some spirit underneath the grime and the despair he felt. Urgently she tugged at her father's robes, impatiently he spun around ready to tell his daughter off, when she lowered her veil enough for him to see her smile, "Father" she whispered, "buy me that one, I want him!" her Father followed her pointing finger to the young warrior shackled to a post apart from the other slaves. He looked strong and reasonably healthy and extremely good looking, unable to deny his daughter anything, he smiled and touched her cheek gently, "of course I will buy him for you Asherone, my pet! just let me conduct some business and we will buy him for you!" The sale went smoothly before he had to be dragged onto the block, before he knew it the chains were replaced with thick rope and he was pulled behind a horse, by an armed man. A covered coach ahead of them leading the way. He was a bought slave for unknown people in an unknown land.

Part two The hot midday sun burnt his skin, adding to his discomfort but he remained silent standing with his back as straight as he could, the fog was slowly lifting from his drugged mind but the confusion was still there. The ropes chaffed his wrists as he tugged against them but still he stayed silent. Watching for signs of someone to come and tell him what was going on. Finally she appeared on the steps in front of him, he watched her sweep down the stairs with such gracefullness, she was tall and slender under the flowing robes and veils, but he could only see her eyes, those wonderous large cat like green eyes, with flecks of gold that glinted in the sunlight. She wore a small jewel on her forehead, and golden rings and chains covered both of her hands. She came to stop in front of him regarding her new purchase carefully, he needed bathing and the wounds had to be cleaned and tended to but under all the grime and blood he was a magnificant looking man. She ran a finger across his chest and down his stomach, feeling him stiffen and squirm slightly under her touch, why the slave was modest. Summoning the slave master, Asherone gave orders for the new slave to be bathed and prepared for her then brought to her chambers. He flinched as she ran her hand over him once more, feeling more and more uncomfortable under her scrutiny. Roughly he was dragged to a shelter at the end of the courtyard, where the remains of his clothing were ripped from him and he was pushed towards a small pool, standing in the cool water eased the heat he felt from standing in the sun. His hands were tied to a rafter above his head before two slave girls came in, their faces covered by veils and their eyes downcast, they silently washed him, removing the weeks of dirt, sweat and blood, gently they cleaned the scabs and scars that covered his body, without uttering a single word, he started to relax slightly as their ministrations eased the throbbing pains and aches that coursed through him. Finally they finished and he was left alone again for sometime, his arms ached from being stretched above his head, closing his eyes for a moment he tried to rest, but faceless people invaded his dreams. He felt himself being cut down, slowly he focused on the person in front of him, the silence was almost deafening as he was clothed with a thin sheet wrapped around his hips, he was led to a forge then, pushed down onto his knees, they placed his wrists into gold cuffs and sealed them with a heated bar, then a sizzling hot brand was raised above his shoulder ready to mark him a slave, "no" a voice came from behind, "the Mistress doesn't want him marked he is to be her personal slave and warrior!" the order was given, he let out a sigh and relaxed slightly. A chain was passed through the loops on the wrist cuffs and a leather collar was fastened around his throat, signalling the position he was given. Then he was dragged towards the main building, still no one spoke to him or seemed to even acknowledge his presence. Except to lead him to his new owner. That thought sat uneasy with him, his spirit called out for freedom, but his will had been broken. He felt fragmented and lost.

Asherone reclined on her cushions waiting to see her new warrior slave. The excitement ran through her, no other man or slave had made her feel like this. Movement in the room, made her open her eyes and stretch, he was there, standing proud and slightly defiant, his father was told that he had been a trouble maker on the voyage over and had to be subdued with the potion, they had been given several bottles of it to use. Asherone had one ready to use if he caused too much trouble. Dismissing the other slaves, leaving her guards standing at the door, Asherone inspected her new prize more closely, walking around him she ran her finger across his muscles, he needed some meals to strengthen him but oh Gods was he beautiful. He tried not to flinch under her touch and gaze.
She let her veil drop from her face allowing him to see what she looked like, smiling seductively, she stood in front of him, her skin brown and glowing in health, her green and gold flecked eyes framed with long black lashes, her shining straight black hair hung simply down her back to her waist, a small diamond glittered on the side of her nose. She was the most exotic looking woman he had ever seen.
"So slave what am I to call you?" her voice slightly deeper than most women, rang like music in his ears.
"My name is........my name is........" he tried to shake his head and clear his thoughts, what was his name? "hmmm well for now you can be called........Hantayo........yes that suits you, you can call me Mistress or Mistress Asherone, you are my personal slave, you will sleep over there on that cushion, you will tend me at all times, or be ready to attend me when I call you, you will protect me if ever the need arises, and fight as my warrior champion in the games....is all that clear?" Asherone snapped out, slightly impatient with his hestitance. He looked at her sadly, the name she gave him was not his but he couldn't remember what it was, she was beautiful but she owned him, her accent was thick and hard to understand but he could just, he gazed over at the simple long cushion she had pointed to, this was to be where he lived now and belonged but it felt so wrong. He shuddered convulsively as she produced the little bottle of the black poison, how did she get that.
"oh by the way, disobey me, anger me and I will use this, I own you now Hantayo make no mistake I will use this to control you if I need to!"
"no, no ........Mistress I understand what you have said!" he whispered suddenly feeling so ashamed, a slip of a girl and a small bottle made him shiver and whimper like a child.

Asherone regarded the proud slave in front of her for a moment and then removed the chains from his wrist cuffs, then she gently pulled the cloth away from his hips, naked he flushed under her gaze and tried to focus on the window and the view of mountains in the distance. Humming to herself Asherone enjoyed herself as she stared at him, he was built like a God, and he was hers. Did she have a eye for flesh or what, giggling she left him standing there and went over to a trunk at the bottom of her bed, she rummaged through it for a moment and then pulled out a pair of soft white satin baggy leggings and a matching loose fitting shirt. "here cloth yourself with these, you cannot be shown to my Father like that, this privilige is just for me!" she said as she tossed them to him. Quickly he dressed feeling more comfortable with clothing on once again. Asherone sucked in her breath as she turned and stared at him, the clothing was a perfect fit, the shirt open in front showed his chest and the scars so brilliantly. The pants loose enough for comfort, still showed his manliness quite well.
"Do I need to replace the chains Hantayo?" Asherone asked wickidly twirling them in her fingers,
"no...........no Mistress there is no need for chains!" Hantayo replied, feeling the annoyance once again for having to act like a whipped man. "well then I expect you to walk behind me, close behind me, you will keep your eyes down and speak to no one unless I give you permission to.......is that understood?" the orders came so naturally to Asherone, he realised that this was one woman born to be a Mistress. "answer me or suffer slave!"
"I understand Mistress!" he answered finally, lowering his eyes he bowed slightly, all he had to do was bide his time,and to avoid the poison long enough, until he could work out a way to escape.
He followed her out of the room, and like she demanded he kept his head low, but he took in everything around him. He sat behind her at dinner, watching everyone through slit eyes, it was like he was in some terrible dream and he would wake up, remember who he is and what had happened to him. Asherone, gracious as her Father's hostess greeted the various guests and saw to their personal slaves, setting the evening perfectly, all of the guests were rich and well connected her Father being Proctor of the town made sure he surrounded himself with the people who could get him to the top of the hierarchy. But all of the time she kept glancing towards her new acquisition. All she wanted to do was go over and have him take her into his arms, shaking her head she smiled at what was being said without listening, her thoughts taken with the new slave. Hantayo glanced up at Asherone catching her eye, then looked down again, he could feel her steady gaze on him, maybe this is the way to escape, seduce her and get her to ease up on him a little. But could he, the thought of seducing her made him shudder and feel uncomfortable.
Asherone ordered her guards to stand watch outside the door, as she prepared to for bed. Hantayo stood silently trying not to watch as she let each veil and robe slide from her lithe body. Slyly she smiled and walked over to him, feeling free in her nakedness, she rubbed her hands over him, kissing him lightly, "I want you to pleasure me" she whispered in his ear, as she tugged at the waist to his pants, flustered he pulled away, annoyed Asherone grabbed his wrist and pulled him around to face her, "Don't you dare pull away from me! Remember who you are and where you are!" Asherone snapped wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled his face down to her, kissing him hard and deeply. She could feel him relax slightly, kissing him harder Asherone pressed her ample breasts hard against him. Sweeping her up into his arms he carried her to her bed, laying her gently down he lent over her and kissed her back, then he stood and looked at her with a small smile, "excuse me Mistress, but when I love a woman I am the one who makes the first move!" he said softly as he bowed to her.
Angery Asherone thumped the pillows, her face red in temper, "You are the slave, you are to do whatever I wish!" she cried out,
"Forgive me Mistress, but I think you would rather a willing lover than one who lies there feeling nothing?"

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