TITLE: He Had A Very Good Time.

BY: Starkiller

RATING: NC17

CATEGORY: Slave fic

PAIRING: Ardeth/Rick

DISCLAIMER: not mine, don't sue.

ARCHIVE: Peja, me.


HE HAD A VERY GOOD TIME
By Starkiller

In one of their quieter moments on the journey towards Hamunaptra, Jonathan took Rick O'Connell aside to ask him a question.

"So what REALLY happened to get you landed in jail?"

O'Connell stared at him, icy blue eyes full of warning not to pursue this subject. Jonathan ignored it.

"Come on then, O'Connell. Tell me!"

"What did our smelly friend say?"

"That you'd had a VERY good time at a local brothel."

O'Connell burst out laughing.

"That should be enough for you."

"Well its not. Tell me the rest."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

Jonathan subsided grumpily, leaving O'Connell alone to his thoughts. Jail. That had been the culmination of a serious misadventure. He ran through the memories of the time between leaving Hamunaptra alone and ending up being on the scaffolding of the hangman's dock.

*****

The sun was hot. It beat down on O'Connell's unprotected head. His mouth was dry and his legs felt weak and rubbery. After two days and one night of trudging through the unforgiving desert, O'Connell had finally collapsed, and passed out.

He had not felt the cold, indifferent hands of the slavers as they lifted him from the sand. He did not realise that he had left one kind of hell and stumbled into another. Unconscious for two days, he had slowly come around, feeling nothing but tired and sore.

He'd looked around him, to see that he was in the back of a cart of some kind. His wrists and ankles were shackled. Other men and women, looking weak, hopeless and dispirited were in the cart with him. They all wore shackles on their wrists and ankles. He realised he was one of a string, and not alone at all.

Men came to open up the back of the cart, revealing that the sun was setting. Blinking against the bright light, O'Connell had taken the bowl of gruel and the tin mug of water that were handed him. He ate and drank in silence. It was clear to him what this was now. A slave ring.

Even though slavery was illegal, it was still practised, particularly in the black market. He knew that he would have to bide his time and pretend to be a weak and worthless piece of merchandise if he was to escape. His muscles and body hurt too much for him to attempt it at the moment. And so it was that he had spent the next few days as part of the string of the world's hopeless and forgotten.

The slave market was a tent city filled with colour, smells and noise. The slaves had been pulled from the cart by their chains and stood in a line, looking at the sandy ground. The slavers walked to and fro, consulting notes on a board and looking concerned. There seemed to be some debate about what each slave would fetch at auction.

The string was pulled none to gently towards the sea of tents that stretched as far as the eye could see. O'Connell trudged along, giving the appearance of having lost his spirit, but in fact, he had done anything but. He took careful note of what kind of weapons people in this fabric city wore, the proximity of back ways and hidey holes. He made careful note of the way that they walked.

They arrived in what appeared to be a central market area and the slaves were quartered in pens that were none too clean. O'Connell stood to one side, looking out of the cracks in the pen walls without seeing. He was thinking fast. Get on the platform, be bid on, and appear too weak to be worth any money. That would get him returned to the pens. On the way, he could tackle the slaver, grab the keys to the shackles and run like hell. A simple plan with only one possible flaw - that someone might buy him anyway. In that event, the next best thing would be to run when night fell. Either way, O'Connell was not going to stick around in this world of vice and corruption, where greed was fed on human misery and suffering.

Such noble thoughts. He shrugged mentally, taking his share of the food and water that was brought. He ate and drank quietly, still off by himself and taking little or no interest in the others in the pen.

After what seemed a few hours, two slavers entered the pen, walking amongst the slaves and working out their sale order. They stopped at O'Connell, who maintained his facade of a broken man. One gruffly reached out and stripped him of his Legionnaire's uniform jacket. O'Connell opened his mouth to protest...only to find a wicked looking dagger under his nose. He closed his mouth and made no protest. The slavers moved on.

Now he was just a man in a dirty shirt, tan coloured pants, dark brown boots and covered with dust. Faceless, hopeless. The uniform would definitely have helped in his unsaleability. He sighed, and waited.

The slaves didn't have long to wait. Eventually slavers came, taking the slaves, one by one to be sold or rejected. A few were returned to the pens, most were not. Finally it came to O'Connell's turn. He trudged up the few steps to the platform and stood still while the auctioneer plied his trade. The sounds of the bidding were mingled in a cacophonous harmony with the other sounds of the market place.

The bidding went higher and higher. There seemed to be competition for him between two parties. Slowly, O'Connell began to take interest in things. One of the bidders was a woman, dressed in gold and red, obviously a woman of high station, given the burly men surrounding her. She was obviously looking for a pleasure slave. O'Connell briefly entertained the thought that being her slave might be fun, for a while at least.

The other bidder was a silent man, who's face was covered. The only thing O'Connell could see were a pair of dark, intent eyes. As the woman kept bidding, the man bid against her, his only action showing intention to do so being a gesture with his hand.

Finally, the woman subsided angrily. O'Connell gaped. He'd been bought by a man. This boded badly. The slaver took him off the platform, and the man who had bought him came forward to collect his property.

To O'Connell's chagrin, the shackles were not removed. A length of chain was given to his new owner, who took it in one strong hand, bowed slightly to the slaver, who bowed low and obsequiously in return, and led him out of the market square with a slight tug.

O'Connell followed the silent, black robed back through the throng of people pushing forward and around them. He was developing a bad feeling about the whole situation. He'd heard stories about what sort of things slaves were bought for and he wasn't eager to experience the reality. He was no stranger to same sex relationships, having been in the legions for so long, one took what was offered or went mad. After the first few times, he had even grown to enjoy it. There was no similarity to women, of course, but O'Connell was candid enough with himself to admit that he was attracted to men.

Certain types of men. Strong, powerful men, men who would fight him as easily as fuck him. It was all about power, the struggle for dominance. It was exhilarating.

They had reached the edge of the tent city now, and the man led O'Connell towards two camels, laden only with riding gear. The camel nearest him, the man tapped on the nose, and it grunted and complained even as it lowered itself to its knees. O'Connell waited. If he was to ride, his ankle shackles would be removed.

He found himself being pushed into the camel and yelped in surprise. Strong hands heaved him bodily over the camel's saddle. Horrified, O'Connell realised that he'd just been thrown across the back of the animal like a sack of potatoes. The motion of the beast beneath him indicated that it was rising to its feet. He felt something loop between the shackles on his wrists and ankles and swore. His new owner had tied both sets of shackles together under the belly of the camel. No escape.

He felt the animal begin to move and sighed. Escape would be impossible - for now. Something would come up though. O'Connell was an optimist.

They rode for what seemed like forever. The sun began to slowly dip below the horizon, and O'Connell risked a look towards the lead camel with his owner astride it. There was still no means of identifying the man. He sighed and waited.

Full dark neared as the man drew the camels to a halt. O'Connell dozed, awakened suddenly to the feel of the camel lowering itself to its knees once more. He felt himself being pulled off the back of the animal, once again like a sack of potatoes. The man holding his chains still said nothing, but led him towards a small spring and the only palm tree O'Connell had seen since leaving the tent city. The desert stretched out in all directions around him.

A sinking feeling filled the pit of his stomach. In the middle of the desert, there was nowhere to run or to hide. He sat down under the palm tree and gazed miserably at his feet. This was a wonderful end to a glorious career. He barely noticed when his new owner unlocked the shackles, allowing his limbs freedom for the first time in days.

"Who are you?"

He jumped at the sound of the voice and looked up into the face that was before him. Tanned, weathered skin, thick black curly hair, a beard, dark, dark eyes and tattoos on each cheek. The face was vaguely familiar. The voice was not. O'Connell stared at that face for a full minute, not speaking.

"I repeat, who are you?"

O'Connell blinked and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I'm Rick O'Connell. Former Legionnaire captain. Who are you?"

"I am Ardeth Bey, leader of the Med-jai, Rick O'Connell."

"The who?"

The man avoided the question and handed O'Connell a bowl. The smells coming from the bowl almost made him swoon. Real food. At last. He ate hungrily, enjoying the taste of the food. The man called Ardeth Bey sat not far away from him, eating, but with much less gusto than O'Connell. He didn't care if he looked like a pig, shovelling food into his mouth. It tasted too good.

O'Connell licked out his bowl, aware of the stares of the other man.

"Stop staring at me. I'm hungry." v The other man shook his head and gently came and took the bowl away from O'Connell.

"There is more."

Quietly he handed the bowl back to O'Connell, once again full of steaming hot food, and once again, O'Connell cleaned the bowl. A third time the bowl was filled. It was only after the third serving that O'Connell's stomach began to feel full. He sighed in contentment.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Silence stretched out.

"So..um...why did you buy me? I mean, what do you want a slave for?"

"I do not want a slave."

"Oh. Well, why buy me?"

v "I saw you at Hamunaptra. I followed to make sure you would be all right, but by the time I found you, you were up for sale in the market. You should thank me. The woman who nearly bought you is a Sultana. She is renowned for her cruelty. You would not have survived a week as her slave."

"Oh. Still doesn't answer my question. Why buy me?"

"I did not wish to see such bravery as yours rewarded with the slow and painful death that the Sultana would inflict on you. I would prefer to kill you myself, cleanly, honourably, one warrior to another, giving a warrior's death."

O'Connell felt a trickle of concern down his spine.

"So you bought me to kill me? What a fun guy you must be at parties."

Ardeth frowned.

"No. I will not kill you. I merely said that I would prefer to do so, had you been bought by the Sultana. I will make you well again and then help you return to Cairo. There you may return to America, should you wish. But do not return to the desert, Rick O'Connell. Stay away from Hamunaptra. It would be your death."

"No-body tells me what to do!" Flared O'Connell.

"Not even when your life is at stake? Go to Cairo. Enjoy the brothels. Return home to America and forget this place. The alternative is chaos and death and destruction, for you, for me, for the world. Would you live content in the knowledge that you had helped to bring that into being?"

"Fine. Whatever."

O'Connell lay down on the sandy ground beneath the tree. He was so tired. Tired and angry. He wanted to go home, but he did not appreciate these warnings the man had given him. To him, they were nothing more than the over reactions of a superstitious people, tied to a dead religion whose glory had been over 2000 years ago. Hamunaptra may be the city of the dead; but to him it was the city of treasure.

He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. Although he was tired, sore, weak and tense, his mind working overtime, he found that he was soon fast asleep.

Ardeth watched the man he had rescued from the slavers with quiet confusion. He knew that his warning about Hamunaptra would be ignored. For that alone he should kill this man here and now, while he slept. While O'Connell dreamed dreams of gold, women and wine, he remained blissfully unaware that his life hung in the balance while Ardeth contemplated what he should do.

Ardeth stood, and sighed. Running both his hands through his hair, he moved away from the sleeping body of Rick O'Connell and went to stand by his camels. They ignored him, as camels tend to do. He moved away from them, past the edge of the oasis and stared out at the desert. The stars reflected the nothingness that stretched out before him. In the moonless night, Ardeth raised his arms towards the uncaring sky and demanded of whatever gods happened to be listening, "Why me?"

Why him indeed? Rescue a man he should kill, contemplate about whether or not he *should* kill him....never before had his duty as Med-jai conflicted so horribly with his conscience and his desires. Truth be told, he didn't want to kill the American. He had...spirit and courage. The fact that he had survived the desert and the slavers meant that he was strong and resilient. Ardeth got the feeling that he should leave well enough alone; help the man to heal, set him towards Cairo and be done with it.

He turned back towards their camp, eyes on the ground.

"What are you doing?"

He jumped, startled. O'Connell was half propped on one elbow, staring at him with suspicion written all over his face.

/As well he should be suspicious. I could kill him easily while he slept/

"Checking the camels, the desert. There is wisdom in making sure that one is truly safe from harm at night."

O'Connell grunted. It had been a calm, soft voiced answer, but he suspected that there was something more.

"You were thinking about killing me weren't you."

"Yes."

The simplicity of the answer rocked O'Connell and he blinked, several times, trying to dislodge the knot of fear that had locked onto his heart.

"So why didn't you?"

"It did not seem....appropriate."

"So what *is* appropriate?"

"Rest. Sleep. We will discuss things in the morning."

O'Connell glared belligerently at the Arab, but Ardeth ignored him. He pulled off his robes, leaving his torso bare. O'Connell suddenly licked his lips in silent appreciation.

/Well now. Well, well./

He watched with interest as Ardeth stretched out on the ground beside him, on his side, facing away from O'Connell. It gave him the opportunity to study the Arab's broad back, the muscles, tendons and contours. The scars that could be seen on one side. He studied every line, every nuance of tone and colour of skin. Mesmerised, he watched nothing but Ardeth's back, ignorant of everything else around him.

A slowly growing throbbing from his groin alerted him to the fact that he not only found the man attractive, but highly desirable.

/Totally fuckable./

He watched, for how long he could not say, until Ardeth rolled over in his sleep, presenting him with a view of the equally well muscled chest. Golden skin lightly traced with black hair, muscles, several more scars. O'Connell's eyes wandered over the feast that was the man's body, gorging in the sight of the long, golden neck and strong, powerful shoulders.

"Must you stare at me all night long?"

O'Connell jumped with a startled oath.

"I can feel your eyes upon me, Rick O'Connell. It is...uncomfortable."

"Sorry."

O'Connell lowered his eyes to the sand and grass before him.

"Actually, no, I'm not sorry. Its either look at the stars, and I've done that so often that its boring, or look at the ground, and hey, that's boring too. Looking at you isn't boring. Its kinda nice, actually."

Ardeth opened his eyes, and gazed at him, expression unreadable. For some reason, O'Connell felt the burning need to continue to explain himself.

"See, I know you were thinking about killing me, and I know that you didn't. You rescued me from the slavers in order to nurse me back to health, and I'm all for that, because I feel as weak as a newborn baby, which was NOT helped, I might add, by being thrown over the back of a camel like a sack of potatoes! Jeez! But with a nurse as gorgeous as you are, how can I help but *not* stare at you?"

Silence, and the still inscrutable gaze of Ardeth upon O'Connell.

"Okay, I guess I'm probably not helping my popularity with you here, but...its the truth. Why save me? There's gotta be more to it, because by your own admission, you seriously thought about killing me. You could've achieved that by letting that sultana woman buy me. Is there something else you'd like to share with the rest of the group, Ardeth Bey?"

The question hung there in the night air.

"There is no other reason for me having saved you, O'Connell."

"Really? Are you sure now? Because hey, stripping off like that, I *know* that that's not the way the desert people behave in oasis's with strangers. Especially after they've told said strangers they were thinking of killing them while they slept - very rude, by the way. So...what more is there? Hmmm?"

"You are very...astute."

"You sound annoyed. Did I pierce your armor, huh? Word or two of truth piss you off? Well well. See, way I see it, I'm still a slave. I'm *your* slave. You bought me. You own me. The question is now, what do you want to do with me?"

Even as he spoke, O'Connell got to his shaking knees and peeled off his shirt, flexing his muscles. He noticed through his lowered eyelashes that he had Ardeth's complete and undivided attention.

"I also know that your people don't...object to same sex relationships. What's the phrase...oh yes. 'Take love where you find it, be it man or woman, be you man or woman.' Something like that, yeah?"

He had now peeled off his boots and socks, and had managed to rise to his feet, unsteadily, but still maintaining an air of dignity. Ardeth merely watched him as he began to pull off his trousers.

"See, I'm not really looking for love. I wasn't actually looking for death either, but I've faced that a couple of times this month, and I think I've met my 'stare death in the face' quota for one year. I'm looking to be reminded that I'm alive. Think you can help me with that?"

Completely naked, erection standing out proudly, O'Connell stood, hands on hips, looking down at the staring Med-jai.

"Hmm. Guess not. Oh well. Cold water for me."

With a shrug of his shoulders, he waded into the pool, hoping that the cold would help get rid of the lustful sensations he was feeling. He did not look towards Ardeth, did not face his direction. Diving down beneath the water, he stayed submerged for as long as he could. Coming up for air, he gasped in the warm night, breathing deep into his lungs. A pair of damp, strong arms encircled his waist. He froze. His cock, which had slowly begun to lose its stiffness, grew instantly rock hard again.

Soft, warm lips touched his shoulder, his back. O'Connell whimpered. At that sound, teeth sunk into his back and he gasped, leaning back into the embrace. He did not move, did not respond in kind, merely waited to see where the other would take this.

One hand moved up his chest, the other moving down his groin, to take his cock in a soft yet firm grip, and gently stroke, even as the soft, hot mouth began to shower his back with kisses. O'Connell couldn't keep still and silent any longer. The nearer he got to orgasm, the more he shuddered against the body pressed up to his. His breathing got harsher, and his head fell back onto the shoulder of the other man. As he came, he let out a cry of pleasure.

Neither man moved. O'Connell content to stay where he was, although now he had come, he was definitely interested to see where Ardeth would take this next. He did not have long to wait.

As silently and as swiftly as he had arrived behind him in the water, Ardeth was gone, leaving O'Connell standing alone in the middle of the pool.

/FUCK! And WOW! But...FUCK!/

Stomping angrily out of the water, up the slight incline towards the spot where they had made their beds, O'Connell swore under his breath, commenting at length on the parentage, uncleanly habits and personal hygiene of Ardeth.

"Are all American's as noisy as you?"

O'Connell looked towards the voice, the vision that met his eyes stopping his tirade mid sentence.

/............!/

Ardeth, still damp, half lay back on the makeshift bed, still naked.

And aroused.

Fighting his now well overheated brain's single message to him to 'screw him into the sand!', O'Connel gulped noisily.

"We try."

Ardeth sighed and looked at the ground. v "You know my people's ways too well, Rick O'Connell."

"Does that mean you want more from me than my perfect health and fitness? No, wait don't answer that. Answer this instead. What can I do for you, Master.?"

"Master?"

"You own me. You are my Master. How may I serve you?"

"I do not want you to do anything that you do not wish to."

"Er....word to the wise here, friend, but I *like* this game. See?"

O'Connell pointed down at himself and his once again obvious erection. Ardeth blinked, and then chuckled softly. The sound was like nails raking down O'Connell's spine, and it had exactly the same effect.

/I had no idea I could get SO hard! Dear gods! No-one is *EVER* going to be able to match this man's effect on me after this!/

"You are...still weak from your ordeal. The time in the desert and the slavers wagons, it has taken a toll on you, yes?"

O'Connell nodded vigorously.

"Very well. Therefore, until you regain...full health....only light duties."

"Would those light duties involve sex of some kind? Because I'm good at those sorts of light duties."

"It was my thought that you could water the camels."

O'Connell stared at him, then slowly counted backwards from ten.

"You....what?"

"Water the camels."

Spluttering with rage and indignation, O'Connell stormed towards the bucket lying by the packs so carefully placed when they had arrived here. He grabbed it, and stormed to the pool, filling the bucket, and marched angrily to the first camel, who drank deeply. He moved to the second camel, who emptied the bucket. Storming back, he tossed the bucket back into the packs.

"Satisfied?"

"No."

"NO??? What the fuck???"

Ardeth raised an eyebrow. O'Connell closed his mouth. He followed the other man's gaze down towards his groin.

/Gold. Absolute GOLD!/

"As you command, Master."

Sinking to his knees in front of Ardeth, he slid his mouth down and over the thick, hardened shaft of Ardeth's cock.

He could feel Ardeth's hands in his hair, could feel the thigh muscles tighten with the build up of increasing pleasure. O'Connell swirled the tip of his tongue lightly around the head of the cock in his mouth, delighting in the silken feel of the skin. He slowly lowered his mouth down until he had managed to deep throat Ardeth. Using his lips to apply a light amount of pressure, he gently and rhymithcally squeezed the balls until the soft moans from his companion became a hoarse shout as he came, into O'Connell's mouth. O'Connell didn't move, sucking and swallowing until he felt Ardeth relax. Then slowly he pulled his mouth off of the now softening cock, sliding his hands along the flesh of thighs, hips, waist, chest, until they lay, body to body, O'Connell pinning the other man down into the sand.

O'Connell's lust filled blue eyes locked onto the sated brown eyes of Ardeth. He could feel himself getting harder and harder, and could feel that Ardeth himself was also returning to hardness. He traced his fingers along the jawline of the man beneath him and murmured softly.

"What do you wish me to do next, Master?"

For answer, he found himself being rolled onto his back, so that he was now pinned by a hard, masculine body on top of his. He ran his hands lightly down Ardeth's back, feeling the muscled flesh, the bones of his spine and shoulders. He gazed up into the dark brown eyes, aware of his own harsh breathing and his rapid heart beat. As Ardeth lowered his lips to O'Connell's, their tongues met, as they tasted each other on the other's tongue, nibbled at each other's lower lip, lightly ran the tip of their tongues over the other's teeth. It was bliss, it was passion, it was everything O'Connell had ever hoped to get from a single kiss.

In the end, however, the weariness he had been suffering from since their arrival here began to take over and he gently pulled Ardeth's head back by the convenient handle that was his hair.

"I'm sorry Master, but I need to rest a bit."

Ardeth's expression became concerned, and he levered himself off of the body beneath him with surprising swiftness.

"Are you unwell?"

"Just...tired. That doesn't mean you have to go away though....Master."

Ardeth smiled, a small half smile that made O'Connell want to swoon.

"Very well. I will lie here with you through the night, if such is your wish."

"Each and every damn day since I saw you, Ardeth."

"It has only been one day, O'Connell."

"Has it? Feels like eternity. In a good way."

His voice was dreamy, sleepy. He felt the strong body of Ardeth Bey beside him, fitting seamlessly, skin to skin. Reaching for Ardeth's arm, he drifted off into a deep, deep sleep.

*****

The sun was high in the sky when O'Connell woke. He felt refreshed, relaxed. He thought sleepily back over the night before. He thought about how good Ardeth had felt in his arms, in his mouth, against his body. He didn't care if he never saw civilisation again. In Ardeth was beauty and power, treasure and gold.

"Are you awake?"

O'Connell opened his eyes and looked up at Ardeth, who stood over him, wearing nothing but a white linen loincloth. The reaction in his groin at the sight was instantaneous.

"Awake and ready for whatever you command me to do next....Master."

Ardeth smiled.

"I thought you would care to join me for a swim."

"I'm up for that. Literally as well as figuratively."

He stood, freeing himself of the light blanket that had been carelessly pulled over them as they had slept. Ardeth's smile was appreciative.

"You are looking well, O'Connell."

"I try to take care of myself."

Ardeth laughed.

"That is not what I meant."

"I know. So what?"

They grinned at each other, and Ardeth gestured towards the pool.

"Come."

"Any second probably."

Shaking his head, Ardeth walked down to the edge of the pool and waded into the water. He dived into the blue depths, rising again like a golden nymph. Mesmerised by the image before him, O'Connell watched, bemused and entranced as the Arab stood hip deep in blue water, sunlight glinting off the droplets on his bare chest and shoulders. He watched as Ardeth's muscled arms raised, he ran his hands through the wet tangles of thick black hair, shaking out more drops of water.

Without realising he was doing it, O'Connell slowly walked into the water, completely under the thrall of the image of the other man. He moved towards Ardeth and stopped a few feet away.

"I am yours to command, Master."

Ardeth regarded him, and then held out a cake of soap that O'Connell had previously not seen. The message was not lost on O'Connell. He swallowed, aware of the intense pressure and desire to turn Ardeth around and screw him until he screamed. Taking the cake of soap, O'Connell began to soap and wash the body of Ardeth Bey, paying close attention to detail. He worked meticulously, thoroughly, enjoying every moment of his duty.

It was no longer a game. O'Connell was aware that he would do anything Ardeth commanded him. He was powerless in the face of that brown eyed gaze, helpless in the power of the bright smile. If Ardeth commanded, O' Connell would do it. That was all there was to it. He was concentrating on Ardeth's chest when he felt him being grabbed at the wrists.

"Stop."

The low voiced word was husky. O'Connell looked up into Ardeth's brown eyes and gulped.

"Master?"

There was no reply. He felt himself being gently pulled closer, until they were skin to skin. As Ardeth lowered his lips to O'Connell's in a passionate kiss, O'Connell dropped the soap in the pool and, pulling his wrists free of the other man's grasp, wrapped his arms around the hard body against his.

They kissed for what seemed an eternity, before O'Connell felt himself being guided towards the bank of the pool. As one, they lay on the ground, damp from the lapping edges of the water, half in and half out of the pool. As the water lapped gently around them, O'Connell felt his body being touched, explored with gentle fingers, fingers that stroked his skin, even as a hot tongue plundered his mouth, kissing him deeply and fervently.

Feverishly, O'Connell began to touch Ardeth's body, exploring through touch what he had just cleaned with soap. He ran his fingers down Ardeth's torso, thighs, hips, tracing the contours of the muscles, taking hold of the rock hard cock in his hand, delighting in the feel of it, even as he felt Ardeth's hand close around his own cock.

He felt himself being pushed over so that he lay flat on the ground. Licking his lips, he let Ardeth raise his hips, so that he was on his knees, face pressed to the sand as if he were one of the faithful, praying at Mecca. While the Muslim world prayed to Allah, O'Connell prayed to Ardeth Bey. He felt fingers, soft and damp slide inside him and he groaned intelligibly, moaning as the fingers began to stroke, hitting his prostate and sending shivers of passion down his spine.

The fingers were gently removed, and O'Connell felt a cock at his entrance. Slowly, slowly, he felt Ardeth push himself inside, and stay, immobile, as O'Connell adjusted to the sensation. O'Connell was panting, pushing back with his hips in a none to subtle hint for the other man to start to fuck him, but still Ardeth waited. Unable to bear it any longer, O'Connell opened his mouth and did something he thought he would never ever do to or for anyone.

He begged.

"Please! Please Master! Please, I'm begging you, just do...something! Please!"

He could feel Ardeth's breathing on his back as he leaned forward to gently nip him below the shoulder blades. O'Connell wailed.

"Was that so very hard?"

"Please!"

Ardeth began to pump, slowly, deeply. Each and every thrust inwards connected with O'Connell's prostate. Each and every time, O'Connell wailed in pleasure. He felt himself coming, reaching the point of orgasm when a hard encircled his cock, while another rubbed down his spine, and gently he felt himself being slowly stroked and massaged to completion.

As he half wailed half cried in his release, he felt Ardeth come inside him, and he shuddered in continued pleasure. He did not move. Ardeth would command him, when he was ready.

Slowly pulling out of O'Connell's body, Ardeth gently layered light kisses down O'Connell's spine. O'Connell was a limp heap on the sand, gasping and moaning, muscles spasming again and again. Ardeth smiled slightly.

"O'Connell."

"M-M-Master."

"How are you feeling?"

"Totally fucked."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I feel like I've been screwed to heaven and back and that I am totally unable to move. You're amazing. No-one is ever going to be able to compare to you. Do you realise you've ruined me for other women? And other men?"

Ardeth sighed, sitting down on the ground next to the prone form of O'Connell whose eyes were closed and who was smiling blissfully.

"O'Connell, I meant I wished to know if you still felt weak and frail?"

"Oh. No. Why?"

"Then I must get you back to Cairo."

O'Connell opened his eyes and looked at him in disbelief.

"What do you mean?"

"I have a duty, O'Connell. As pleasurable as this is, it cannot last. I cannot avoid my duty. As much as I would like to."

"Oh. When?"

"When you are able."

"Give me thirty minutes."

O'Connell pulled his protesting body up off the ground and marched resolutely back towards the encampment. He ignored the feeling of the fluid trickling out of him, stopping only briefly to grab up a towel and roughly towel down his body. Jerking on clothes, raking his fingers through his hair, he turned and scowled at Ardeth, who had dressed quietly and stood looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Now what?"

"Are you truly sure you are ready for the return to Cairo?"

"I'll be fine. Lets go shall we? Wouldn't want to keep you from your duty and all that."

Ardeth sighed and reached out, taking O'Connell's arm in a firm grip.

"O'Connell..."

"No, no. I get it. I don't like it, but I get it. Just remember Ardeth - if we should ever meet again - YOU bought me. You own me. Don't you ever forget that."

"I will not forget."

"Good. I'll not mention this to anyone, but I'll remind YOU of it, later, if we meet again. You can't just buy something and not expect to take some responsibility for it."

"I take full responsibility."

O'Connell's eyes softened slightly and he touched Ardeth's bearded cheek with one finger.

"Good. Lets go to Cairo then, shall we?"

*****

The ride was shorter than O'Connell had expected it to be. As they topped a rise in the sand dunes of the desert, he was confronted with the vista that was the expanse of the city of Cairo. The pyramids in the background, timeless as the stars mocked him with their permanence.

/I'll never get to have this again. Not with Ardeth. Not with anyone./

Ardeth turned to face him.

"Will you be all right here?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

Ardeth nodded, and made to turn his camel away. O'Connell stopped him.

"Ardeth?"

"Yes O'Connell?"

"What do we do if we do meet again?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well...are we friends? Lovers? Strangers? What?"

"What would you prefer, O'Connell?"

He thought about that for a minute, and then sighed.

"I'd prefer friends at the very least, but I know that won't be. So I guess it'll have to be as strangers."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. I may change my mind later."

"I would expect nothing less."

"Its been fun, Master."

Ardeth smiled at him.

"Go. Go to Cairo, have a good time. Let what has been between us remain a happy memory, a private joy to be treasured in our quiet times, when we are alone."

"Yeah. Good bye, Ardeth."

"Allah watch over you, O'Connell."

Ardeth turned his camel and headed out into the desert without a backward glance. O'Connell watched as he disappeared into the horizon and the desert. Sighing, he turned his face again towards Cairo.

It wasn't hard to find what he was looking for. In a darkened shop front, he accosted a portly man and scowled.

"What can I do for you, honoured sir?"

O'Connell glared at him.

"I'm looking for a good time, friend. Think you can help me with that?"

The man smiled and bowed obsequiously.

"If sir has the means, we have the merchandise."

O'Connell pulled out a wad of money. He had found it in his trousers pocket and had known that Ardeth had put it there.

"Will this do?"

"Certainly, honoured sir."

"Good. Because I want to have a VERY good time. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

As the man moved to summon the various prostitutes, O'Connell sighed. He would have as good a time as he could in order to forget Ardeth. Yet he knew the truth of the matter, and that was that he never truly would forget.



END