The Wizard and the Torch

by Flaulus

Chapter 3

Gene thought about how his mother fussed over a dinner party. Every little detail had to be right and guests should not see any of the hard work that had gone into the preparation. He also thought about how she nagged his father, making sure he was properly dressed and warning him not to start talking politics or sport. Gene tried to avoid her dinner parties, and she didn't mind. Supervising one man was headache enough, a teenager easily bored by suitable dining-room conversation was too much. However, as he thought about his quest, he found his mother helping. Collars and chains were definitely kinky, leaving Gene embarrassed, but dressing Malcolm for an event was something his mother would understand.

On the other hand, Malcolm missed the security a collar offered. As Gene picked up his new collar, Malcolm knelt, but with his head tilted back to expose his throat. He knew Gene would not understand how important the moment was, and he would not be able to explain it. One of Genes friends might be thrilled to receive a football shirt signed by his favourite player while Malcolm was equally delighted to be bound to a master like Gene. Once the collar was fitted, he knelt forward, forehead to the ground at his master's feet, but his master did not like displays of subservience, so he quickly stood facing his master smiling happily.

Gene showed him how to fit the cuffs to his wrists and watched as Malcolm knelt down to fit another pair to his ankles. Gene hesitated, and they both looked at the cock-ring sitting on the table they had set up.

"I'm not worrying whether you want to wear it." Gene said, "I'm wondering what sort of impression it'll make."

"A good one, Master. Heavy chains mean I can't be trusted, and I might run. No chains mean I'm a good slave. Many think the bigger the collar, the more it shows how closely I'm controlled. Showing you own all parts of me without breaking my neck is a good idea."

"OK, you can fit it. Then we'll start your driving lessons."


"I'll start giving you the magic you need."

Teaching a willing slave had its advantages. Malcolm was responsive and listened carefully, though lessons were a little different to the ones Gene had taken. Lane discipline and road signs were irrelevant but Malcolm could soon reverse the car and trailer more adeptly than many experienced drivers. Understanding that in a market with narrow lanes, he needed to check the trailer, he confidently adjusted the mirrors. He learned to leap out and open the door for Gene and to park so that Gene could always step out in style. Gene was slightly irritated that his slave could reverse the trailer better than he could while Malcolm was satisfied he would be able to serve his master in his magical world.

Gene was worried it was all taking so long but the torch responded with: Time must progress but relative. Only seconds will have passed on the slave's world. He did not fully understand but was reassured. Malcolm, on the other hand, was learning rapidly. Many of the instructions were in picture form, so he learned to use the solar-powered microwave the shopkeeper had supplied and lay out the tent for Gene's comfort. The freezer fascinated him as did the numbering system when Gene explained it. The first words Malcolm could read included frozen and chilled.

In his turn, Gene learned to sit back and watch Malcolm work, but insisted Malcolm eat the same as him. However, it was not the same for Gene would seat himself at the table as Malcolm served and only when Gene had everything he needed would Malcolm sit and start his own meal, leaping up if Gene wanted anything. Gene only managed to have his way with one thing.

"At night, when it's dark, no-one can see your collar." Gene said, "We sleep as equals in one sleeping bag."

Or rather, Gene nearly had his way.

"And at dawn, your slave is ready to service your cock, Master." Malcolm grinned.

Gene's day had been stretched by travelling to different time-zones, so he was exhausted. Malcolm's day had also been unusually long, so he gratefully settled down beside Gene. Those following the torch's progress were content their plans were developing as hoped.

It was well after dawn the next day before either boy stirred and Malcolm woke first, realising with horror the sun was already high in the sky. His master was still fast asleep, arm across his slave and groin pressed against his thigh and if Malcolm moved, he would wake him, so what should he do? For a time, he was content to lay there enjoying the warmth of a boy he was already falling in love with. He shifted his arm to stroke Gene's hair. Gene responded by nestling in close to Malcolm who waited until Gene opened his eyes.

"So you're not a dream." he murmured as his hand slid down Malcolm's body, but Malcolm seemed unhappy, "What's wrong?"

"I should be preparing your breakfast, Master. I'm not preparing your clothes or your bath." Malcolm replied, "I know what you want from me, and I'm happy to serve you but I've just been lying here rather than working."

"You're talking about an ordered household where everything is organised." Gene replied, "You're going to suck my balls dry before I go for a swim while you cook breakfast for us. If I enjoy the meal, I'll let you jerk off while I watch."

"Yes Master." Malcolm replied and Gene felt his slave's cock twitch and swell. Gene unzipped the sleeping bag and guided Malcolm round, so they were in a 69 position.

"A change in plan." Gene chuckled, "If you cum before I do, you don't get any breakfast."

Gene felt rather than saw Malcolm relax even more. He doubted that Gene would let him go hungry, but his master was setting tasks and boundaries. He also appreciated the challenge knowing he had the advantages and the disadvantages. The advantage was he was the more experienced, and trained to pleasure his master. The disadvantage was having a master who did not want to punish him, so he needed to hold back to avoid causing his master a conflict.

As each boy responded to the other's touch, so they relaxed lost in the moment. Malcolm's mouth and tongue gently washed over Gene's manhood as it steadily became more eager while just as eagerly, Gene allowed his fingers to explore between his legs, and even inside him. Using his skills Malcolm held back just enough despite allowing Gene's mouth to do its work as Malcolm played his own game.

Despite Gene's less well-trained gag reflex and worry about whether he should swallow, it did not stop him trying to be gentle and to give Malcolm as much pleasure as he was getting and Malcolm responded to the novelty of a caring master. Slowly the pressure in both boys built until they tensed and spasmed. Malcolm's game worked as they came together, Malcolm eagerly swallowing Gene's jism while Gene coughed and spluttered, but Malcolm was satisfied. He had served his master well.

As they came down from their highs, Malcolm's slave instincts clicked in. His master had given instructions for the morning, and it was time to obey. As he tried to stand, Gene pulled him back.

"Where are you going?" Gene asked.

"To prepare breakfast, Master. I have to remember the magic to make fire, but it will be ready by the time you've had your swim."

"Wouldn't you rather just lay here?"

"It's a master's way. A slave's way is to fear the whip until the work is done."

"OK! I've got some magic chanting to do. Fix breakfast and bring it back here. After, we'll both go for a swim and then spend the rest of the day planning our grand arrival."

"As you command, Master." Malcolm replied seriously, but then grinned, "You need to practice reversing the trailer as well."

Gene slapped his stomach. It was loud rather than painful.

"Careful," he said, "I might beat you if you go too far."

"Yes Master, but I am obeying you. You told me to be honest."

Gene shrugged in defeat. Malcolm seemed to win every argument, yet remained eager to serve. Gene did not understand, but he did not need to. He needed to know more about the quest. He learned time must be sequential, but it can be compressed. He could view the fleet seconds after the last viewing or days after. You cannot go back before last viewing.

"So I can spend as long as I like here but still start my quest seconds after I last saw the fleet?" Gene asked the torch.


"Am I treating Malcolm properly? I could use a wish to figure it out."

Wish unnecessary. Malcolm happy. Physical punishment not your style but Malcolm would accept them. What would hurt him is knowing he has disappointed you.

"I'm just not used to slave owning."

Understood. Help limited, On football field, you accept great physical challenges, but you are gentle boy. Malcolm would also accept great physical challenges to prove he is worthy. It is what boys do.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Can help further. Think of magic as anything new to comprehension. To Malcolm, car is magic, yet he is learning to control it. In handling trailer, slave is better than master, at least for current needs. Collar is magic. It could be silver, but why is it so hard? Where is rivet? Slave understands touchpads, others will not understand why he cannot free himself. Even slave's cock bound to you by magic but slave also uses magic so has also become powerful wizard, yet he obeys you. He will not hide in shame because of his nudity and fetters. He will proudly display your ownership of him, demonstrating the magic you have entrusted to him.

"But it all comes back to him being a slave. It's wrong."

Does Malcolm think so? If he is free, it is important what he thinks.

"You mean he's free not to be free. It doesn't sound right."

No, but it is. Do not try to understand. Accept post of wizard's slave will look good on his CV.

Gene grinned, feeling happier. It was a repeat of other conversations and each time, it all sounded so much more reasonable, but it still nagged him.

"I want to spend today going over stuff, and we'll go tomorrow. Just one thing, jet-lag. Yesterday was longer than twenty-four hours, and I'm feeling it."

Detail overlooked. You require time of day to match. Will try to accommodate. Fleet being blown back by adverse winds, so will wait days for good winds.

"Sounds good. We'll go tomorrow after breakfast then."

Although Gene understood the theory, he was still uncomfortable with the practice. Malcolm was a runaway slave so if he was taken the punishments would be harsh: whipping, branding and then worked to death in the mines. He looked worriedly at Malcolm.

"I know that look, Master." Malcolm said, "I'm property, and it's how you must see me."

"We've gone over it so many times." Gene replied, "I do know, and you're wrong. I'm wondering how much you'll enjoy showing off."

Malcolm grinned, "Driving a magic carriage for my master, carrying his magic charms, knowing how to read a map, using a light pen, wearing the most expensive chains in the world: what do I have to show off about?"

"Just remember they're keeping you out of the mines."

"Yes, Master."

"Let's go."

They appeared in a small grove of trees. Malcolm drove slowly concentrating on the traffic. Gene would have worried more about men trudging along with wicker baskets on their backs, the occasional cart hauled by oxen and children rushing over to stare into the strange wagon. Malcolm pressed the horn, and the children leapt back only to edge forward hoping the beast would roar again. Gene rolled down his window.

"Mind the wheels," he said, "They'll crush your feet."

Some children wore iron collars but Gene could not see any difference in the way they behaved compared with children without.

"Where are the oxen?" One of them asked, "Or are they horses? Or slaves?"

"They're little boys who ask too many questions." Malcolm replied, "They're squashed up in that little cabin in the front."

The boy who had asked the question looked worried then shrieked, "Malcolm. We thought you were dead. What's happening? What is this thing?"

"Hello Trey." Malcolm said, "Will you run on ahead and warn the City Father a powerful wizard wishes to speak to him. Find someone to go and tell my parents as well. I'll visit them when my duties permit.

He turned to Gene, "I know how fast we can go, but it's market day. People will be curious, and the streets crowded. Trey will just run through it all while we struggle."

"Just my luck." Gene murmured, "Rush hour. It's a pity we can't get a police escort."

But Gene had underestimated Trey. He stopped briefly at the city gate and warned the guards. He watched, a little nervous as two men tall with muscular bodies to match, wearing little more than loincloths ran towards them. The bows, quiver of arrows and daggers hanging from their belts marked them as soldiers and Gene waited nervously.

"Hello Malcolm." The first one to arrive said, "We're supposed to arrest you and cart you off to the dungeons. I'm not so sure it's a good idea though."

"Don't worry." Malcolm laughed, "My master won't turn you into lizards if you defy him, but we do need to speak to the City Father about pirates."

"You're right. News of pirates takes precedence. What do you need?"

"There're plenty of slaves idling around, so if I unhitch the trailer, could one of you get it hauled up to the palace. Could the other one clear a way for us. Master will want it done in a friendly way."

"I'll just check with your master."

"Master is a stranger here. I know what he wants, and I know how to get it done." Malcolm snapped as he got out.

"I've often wondered how your back is still so smooth, but you serve your master well." the soldier chuckled. The conversation did not fit with any of Gene's expectations, but he was getting used to that. Instead, he sat back, aloof apart from the children's curious stares.

Once Malcolm was back in the driver's seat, the soldier walked slowly forward, found the car following closely behind and walked faster looked behind again and broke into a trot, yelling, 'Make way for the monster'.

It was as good a name as any and by the time they got to the city gate, the soldier was maintaining an impressive running speed. Gene was not surprised they slowed considerably in the city but folk obligingly cleared a way for them. Although it was called a palace, it was smaller than it had seemed on the map, but it had an impressive flight of steps leading to the entrance. Trey stood at the top of a flight of steps with another man, but Malcolm beckoned him back down as he hurried round to open the door for Gene. Trey did not have a collar, wore a tunic but seemed happy to obey Malcolm who put a backpack on him and gave him another bag to carry before running up the steps to stand just behind Gene.

"The City Father." Malcolm whispered.

"Greetings, Stranger." Geog Af Builnia said, "What can I do for you?"

"I've come to trade, sir." Gene replied.

"You know the slave is mine, yet you use him as if he was yours. Do you insult everyone you wish to trade with."

"It's a complicated story, but I want to buy him."

"He disobeyed orders, visited the harbour, and you abused my hospitality by taking him."

"No! I found him on a beach, after the captain had taken him, and he had escaped the pirates."

"You did not take him from my domain?"

"No, I did not."

"My apologies. Please come in and let me offer refreshments. My house is your house so of course, my slave is your slave while you're here."

"Thank you." Gene replied.

Gene had heard of dining couches and settled into one. He accepted a goblet of wine from a slave and chose an orange from the fruit offered him. Malcolm knelt on the floor, waiting.

"Forgive my bad manners in rushing into business, but I'm intrigued. I'd like to hear the boy's story, about you and what you have to offer. Somehow I don't any of it is ordinary."

"Malcolm, you begin. What happened to you?"

Malcolm obeyed finishing with, "Master Gene comes from a world of magic, Master. I've seen glimpses of it and you have seen his carriage. On his world, he is a novice, learning of its powers. I'm not sure that I can explain much more."

"I see. I suppose you'll tell of flying machines and men moving mountains. I offer no insult stranger, but would your story enter the realm of the storyteller?" Geog Af Builnia asked.

Gene grinned, "Probably. It seems like a fairy tale to me at times."

"Very well. What do you offer for trade?"

"There's a fleet of pirate ships heading towards you. I don't know their plans, but I gather it's more than just a raid." Gene replied, "I don't know how much use I'll be, but I'm offering my help in exchange for Malcolm."

"I see." Geog Af Builnia paused, thinking deeply, "I'm wondering why you're asking for so little to save our city. Why are you so eager for me to be guided by you?"

"I think I love, Malcolm." Gene replied, "I was thinking how valuable he is to me, not to you."

"Yes, I can believe you. You look at him far too often for a master but not for a lover. You make no promises for the help you offer but promise to try. I must take the gamble that your trade could be worthless, so it seems to be levelling out. I accept. The boy is yours."

"Malcolm, the map."

Malcolm took the map from the backpack Trey was holding and laid it out onto the floor. Gene had found it in his tent not long after he had asked for it and it was impressive. Printed on a thin but seemingly indestructible material, it unfolded from a small wallet to be about 4 metres square. There were no visible folds or creases, and it lay flat. They had opened it once before and Gene had explained it to Malcolm. It had come complete with a light pen.

"OK, Malcolm." Gene said, "Tell us what it is."

Malcolm stood up, with Gene looking for signs he was embarrassed or humiliated, but he held his head just high enough for the collar to be clearly visible, and his hips just forward enough to show off his ring.

"Imagine a bird flying so high, he could see all our lands." Malcolm switched on the pencil and pointed it at the sea. "I don't know if he would see it as blue as this, but he would see the sea and the river." He shifted the pencil beam, "And he would see the city. He would see the people in the market, and he would see the pirate ships but this is a picture of the world."

A man stepped forward and pointed a spear at a cove in the river, "I recognise this place. Do these darker objects represent the trees in the apple orchard?"

Malcolm looked uncertainly at Gene who nodded.

"And where is this fleet of yours? How does this help us?" Geog Af Builnia asked.

Malcolm took an ornament from a table and placed it on the map.

"We think it's about there, Master. As we learn more, so we can adjust the position."

The man who had spoken took another ornament and placed it near the city, "The army. I can order it to positions along the coast, but it's a two-day march. We still face a threat from the North and if we scatter the troops along the southern coast it'll take two weeks to reassemble it and meet Cradoc's army. Do you have any suggestions?"

The man who Gene now guessed was a general had turned to him.

"Yes, but first some magic. Malcolm, the radios. Give me one then take a soldier to the market."

Gene was a little nervous as the others patiently waited, then Gene's radio crackled into life.

"We've arrived, Master."

"What do you want them to buy?" Gene asked the general.

"Can I speak to my soldier."

Gene nodded and spoke into the radio.

"Help the soldier speak to his general." Gene commanded.

"Hello?" A nervous voice said.

"Where are you, boy?"

"On the far side of the market, sir. I'm not even shouting, yet you can hear me."

"Come back here," the general ordered. "I think I see a plan but explain.

"You send enough troops to beat the pirates and have them stay here." Gene said pointing to a place on the map. Send spotters to points on the coast and when they see the ships you order the troops forward."

"Using your infernal devices. It's untried."

"It is also answering your biggest fear." Geog Af Builnia said, "Is there a threat to the North, Visitor?"

"I don't know." Gene replied, "I learned enough to warn you, but I don't know any more."

"You have ideas?"

"The fleet is delayed because of adverse winds. Your other enemy does not know that. Could they have tried a coordinated attack?" Gene asked.

"It's possible," the general replied, "It's possible it's not adverse winds, but they're sailing to a favourable position ready for an attack. They're out of sight of land and no sailor likes to be so far out unless there's a reason. The moon is nearly full. The night of the full moon could be the signal. What do you say, stranger?"

"It could be both. Adverse winds are slowing them, and they wanted to appear with as little warning as possible."

"Is it important, General?" Geog Af Builnia asked.

"No, Excellency. I suppose not. We still have to split our troops and if they came out of the morning mist we wouldn't know their landing site until they were well established."

"It's a bad policy to split our forces, but I suggest we adopt our new friend's plan to the south, and you send half the army to the northern frontier. Keep the remainder as a reserve and to defend the city until the situation becomes clearer. A decisive victory would be ideal but giving the impression our army is twice as big as it is could cause our enemies to think again."

"What say you, Stranger?" the general asked.

"I'm thinking of buying time. If they invade it could take a day for a rider to raise the alarm and another day for the troops to reach the front. How many spotters do you need on the south coast and how many radios would we have for the north?"

"Radio — your voice boxes. How far do they shout?" the general asked.

"The manuals say about twenty miles but maybe more here." Gene pointed to the map, "About this far inland."

"Nearly a day's march, two days if they're to fight a battle. That's the edge they want. The pirates will attack first as a diversion. We'll do a forced march south, and they'll retreat onto their ships. We'll then have to do forced marches all the way North to meet Cradoc. Our men will be exhausted and strung out along the road. Excellency, I'm suddenly more hopeful. I'll take the whole army north to the halfway point and just leave a garrison force in the city. Stranger, will you command the troops in the south?"

"Me? I'm only a kid. I don't know about battles. Besides, you don't know me. You can't trust me with a job like that."

"You know how to use those talking boxes, and I suspect you understand more than you realise. No, I don't trust you and your second-in-command will be ready to kill you if you betray us. If we can trust you, then we can expect a glorious victory that will bring terror to our enemies."

"Who do you intend as this young man's second?" Geog Af Builnia asked.

"Your son, Yousif. He is ready."

"Step forward, Yousif." A boy, a year or two older than Gene obeyed, "I thought he was ready to lead, not just be second."

"He will be the tactician, leading in battle, our guest will be the strategist, planning the campaign. Is that acceptable, Yousif?"

Yousif nodded, "It's the tactician who will find glory in battle."

"Do you have a name, stranger?" Geog Af Builnia asked.

"It's Gene."

"Welcome, Gene," Geog Af Builnia said, "I shall find you suitable quarters."

Malcolm bent forwards, forehead to the floor.

"You wish to speak?" Geog Af Builnia asked.

"Master Gene is a wizard and needs to make his chants in private. Is Trader Wilhelm's villa still empty?"

"You think I would spy on my guest?"

"No, Master. You would never do such a thing. Master Gene needs to know he is secure, and he needs to feel it as well. A helpful servant entering to serve Master Gene could be enough to spoil the magic."

"He will still need servants. Will you choose girls or boys so ugly he'll only have eyes for you?"

"If he's willing, I would choose Trey as the first."

"And you plan on controlling your master's life and making decisions for him."

"Master comes from a world of magic. Here, he cannot command a candle to light, but he can command me to light it."

"And you Wizard Gene, do you tolerate his rudeness and presumption?"

"I have to because he's right." Gene replied, "I am a stranger here, and I have a lot to learn to survive. I think Malcolm is trying to say that he can teach me in private where I won't be embarrassed."

"It's strange because I thought wizards knew everything." Geog Af Builnia said, "But I have only met fakes trying to impress me. Your choice of slave will either show you to be a man of deep wisdom or a fool. See that Wizard Gene's slave's orders are obeyed."

The meeting seemed to be over and Gene stood uncertain what to do until Yousif approached him.

With your permission?" he asked and as Gene nodded, commanded Malcolm to stand. Yousif grabbed Malcolm's balls and fondled them before feeling the ring.

"It's so hard," he exclaimed, "It's not silver, is it? It would tarnish against his skin."

"No." Gene replied and Yousif grinned.

"You're not happy letting me handle him, are you? His father allowed me use him in exchange for teaching him to be a body slave. You look puzzled, not annoyed."

"If his father is a slave, could he have refused?"

"Oh yes. His father is an expert in rearing all sorts of livestock. My father would support him, if I damaged any stock. I must be careful with his horses and his slaves. You are not annoyed?"

"Malcolm's already told me about his life."

"I was hoping to make some sort of deal with you, but if you truly love him, I suppose it's impossible."

"Excuse me, Masters." Malcolm interjected, "Master Gene doesn't know our ways well enough to decide. Perhaps you could continue later."

"OK, Malcolm. Be honest. Do you want me to give you to Master Yousif?"

"Give me. No, Master, definitely not, but hired or loaned for an afternoon? Yes Master. It would be fun, and if the fee was teaching me more about being a house slave, I could serve you better."

"Now, you do look shocked." Yousif laughed.

"I do love him. He's a slave, so he has to love me, but I didn't expect him to want someone else."

"He doesn't want me." Yousif laughed, "Didn't you see how worried he was when you suggested giving him to me. I'd spend an afternoon with him, and maybe you'd spend the time with another boy."

"Malcolm's right. Give me time." Gene said, "It's not the way my world thinks."

"Understood." Yousif said, startling Gene but maybe, it was just a turn of phrase.

Gene looked at Yousif's bare, muscular chest and his cheerful boyish face and wondered how his sex life could become so complicated.

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