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Chapter 9

Serve

'The same damned dream….' The human thought in aggravation as he stared at the scene before him. He could see his old self; the person he was before he came to the world of masters. He scoffed at the naïve young man as he prepared for his shift at work. It was the same dream. Or at least, he thought it was. Then he noticed the next presence.

It was kneeling in a far corner of the room, where the scene from his own world blended into a familiar prison of dusty stone. This presence was unmoving as it hid behind mangled hair and a layer of filth. This was who the first master had made him. The human felt such an overwhelming sense of nausea as he stared at the pitiful slave. He almost lowered his eyes to mimic the beaten human before he realized something about his perspective had changed.

'Wait….' Things were hazy in this dream, but not hazy enough to leave the change unnoticed. 'There are three of me now?'

The human couldn't deny it. The dream was the same as before; the slave trapped watching his younger self, but he was witnessing both now. He was not the ragged one anymore. He was a third version. He was the one that served Master Hatchet.

He took a step back in disbelief, grateful to seemingly be freed from his eternal nightmare. He stared down at his hands; hands that were clean and unmarred by the first master. He was never really muscular, but he was no longer the malnourished shell of a person the first wolf had made him. His body had healed itself at long last. His strength was back. He could finally dream again.

His fist clenched as he let the thought wash over him in comfort. 'Master Hatchet is my only master. I am his now. It is he who truly heals.'

'All wolves are masters, and ALL masters are the same beneath that fur.' Another thought that was not quite his own interjected firmly, drawing the human's attention back to the ragged slave kneeling in the dirt.

He responded with a flare of anger. 'NO! Master Hatchet is different. He is kind, and he feeds me, and he-'

'And he used us the same as the first master did. Do you not remember when we met?' The slave interrupted with that pessimistic tone. 'We had to drink from him, and now he has drank from us. Do you believe it will end there? Do you think he won't take what he paid for sooner or later? Do you think he will not hurt us when he ruts? Do you think ANY wolf would be gentle as they tear through our flesh? As they take more than we have to give? As they demand we submit to whatever horrors they deem fit? He is a master. The baths and the beds may have blinded you to it, but he will have his own gospel. He will have his own demands of us. The bread has made you too comfortable. You may lie to yourself all you wish here, but it will do us no good.'

'A new gospel? I actually think that's a wonderful idea! The Master deserves his own!' A thought far more chipper than the previous two chimed in. The youngest human; the one from the first world, added his input at last. He turned towards the other two, his hand reaching up to pluck the nametag off of his vest and drop it into his pocket.

'Oh great… my personalities are splitting. Wonderful.' Hatchet's human sighed to himself.

The youngest was quick to cut back in. 'Oh, no. Don't worry. It isn't that. We would remain unaware of each other if that was the case. This is probably more like something you've created to try and make sense of things. It's likely because we feel conflicted. Which is fair, considering how differently the three of us lived.'

'And all the times before now, you never spoke. Why? Was I not conflicted enough then?' Hatchet's human countered defensively.

The youngest version shook his head, pointing towards the filthy version. 'He would never hear me. You wouldn't let me talk back then.'

'We didn't need the distraction, nor the false hope.' The slave replied flatly. 'The masters have no reason for hurting us, so it made no sense to try and reason with someone who doesn't understand such truths. The us from before this world couldn't survive what the masters demanded. He had not been worthy of the gospel. The words of such a heathen held no weight in my world.'

Hatchet's human looked back to his youngest self, eyeing the optimist with a skeptical gaze. 'So you're talking now. Mind pulling that nametag back out of your pocket?'

The young one just smiled, cutting his eyes as he dodged the question. 'The ragged one is right, I didn't survive the gospel. But here you are now, unquestionably alive. So, I think we need a new gospel; a gospel that helps us all serve the new master bett—'

'What is my name?' He asked again, cutting off his younger self, even taking a step towards him.

'I… we- we are not suppos—'

'What. Is. My. Name?' He stepped closer, clasping his hand firmly over his younger selves' forearm.

The nineteen-year-old stared with eyes wide, tears dancing on the edges while the corners of his mouth trembled.

'Why is he so afraid?' Hatchet's human wondered. He only wanted his name. He exhaled, backing off some as he opted to simply reach into the vest pocket and pluck out the tag himself.

'Of course it's blank….' He furrowed his brows, trying to form the thought as calmly as possible, turning back towards the youngest. 'Why? Why won't you just tell me?'

The youngest shied away, clasping his forearm with his right hand while his jaw clenched in response.

'He doesn't want to remember. None of us do. It's… hidden.' The slave was speaking again.

Hatchet's human turned to address him instead. 'Hidden where? Why?'

Silence. Even here, the damned silence was to be his answer.

A flick of wary eyes was direction enough. The human turned to where the slave had glanced. A door awaited.

He took a step back in alarm, the golden light surrounding the doorway a well-established threat by this point. He was NOT going through that thing again. The first master was on the other side. His panic began to consume him, that is, until he noticed the shape seemed a little off.

'It… isn't the same door, but… the first master IS in there. He just isn't the only thing in there.' The brave human looked back towards the other two. Neither would dare even peek his way. 'They know it, too.'

He turned his head back to that strange door, trying to remember why he knew the shape of it so well… trying to discern what could be lurking on the other side.

He reached a hand forward, urging his arm to move despite everything within himself telling it not to. He was nearly to the handle….

'Stop.' They begged in unison.

He turned towards the other two, demanding answers one last time. 'Why? Where does this lead?'

'We don't think about it.' The youngest pleaded.

He scoffed. 'Why not? If my name is in there, I'm going in to get it.'

'More than our name is resting there.' The slave whispered behind ratty hair. 'We keep so much there. You know what we must not linger on. It's what keeps you from becoming me.'

Hatchet's human wasn't sure how to respond.

The youngest cut in instead. 'You know what we know because you are who we were. If you don't remember, its because you don't want to; because you have no reason to. Even before the first master, things were never easy. The before wasn't good to us, it just wasn't as bad as the white wolf…. Yet, now? Things seem better than we believed they would ever be.'

The human stared at his younger self in surprise, unsure of why it all felt so true. There was so much he knew he had hidden, but even his name? 'So what do I do now? Just leave it all buried? Just carry that weight within, and move on with Master Hatchet? Do I abandon the gospel the same as my name?'

The slave answered the rhetoric, 'We do not hope. We do not shed the gospel. We could not forget it, even if we wanted to… but….'

The youngest finished for him, 'But, we can change it. Master Hatchet is a kind Master. Even if he does eventually hurt us, he allows us such freedom, he shows us such tenderness. He provides, and we will provide in return when needed.'

'And how do I serve without a name? How am I to be a person again without one?' He pleaded a final time. Taking that first step was never so easy.

'Even if you knew our name, would we be able to tell the Master? Could he use it? No. That name does not serve us. It is not who we are anymore.' The youngest shook his head to accent the point, standing firmly with that same smile the human always used to bear. 'With a new master comes a new beginning. With a new beginning comes a new gospel. With a new gospel comes a new us.'

The youngest continued as the dream started to crumble around the edges. 'Choose a new name. Better yet, let the Master choose one for us. Be who we get to be now. Run. Feast. Rest. Fight. Release…. Serve, because we want to. Take pride in our indulgence. Take pride with who we are becoming. Take pride in our role, for it is finally one that grants us happiness. Take a new name. The old one doesn't serve us anymore.'

Darkness overtook the dream, and even the malicious light of the door was swallowed by the shadow.

His eyes parted slowly, his face nestled into the thick fur of his Master's brawny chest. A calming, concentrated breath of that scent soon followed, making for an easy transition back to the waking world.

~ ~ ~

Hatchet was lying awake atop of the bedrolls, as naked as the day he was born while the human; who was just as bared, lazed away on top of him. The summoned was curled up, his upper half sprawled across the wolf's torso as his legs tucked against Hatchet's side. Hatchet had his left arm tossed over his smaller human, offering a little warmth to his furless friend while holding his leash. The summoned would occasionally clench his hands ever so lightly, his fingers digging into the fur as he unconsciously grabbed and released the pelt by the fistful.

Hatchet didn't mind. It was admittedly kind of pleasant. He was far more concerned with what dream could have his little human so animated; what could cause those brows to furrow so threateningly.

“You get 'em." The beast cheered on his human, chuckling at the show, basking in how content it all felt. There was just something right about this; something different than what Hatchet had ever experienced. It seemed everything about the summoned was different in some manner, but the wolf didn't think that was a bad thing at all.

There was nothing more than what it was. There were no stipulations or demands. No grand decrees to be made. No promises to be broken. There were no words between them, but that only made the summoned an even better companion as far as the wolf was concerned. He was so easy to appease, and he was so enjoyable to take care of. The way he reacted in the smallest ways; his eyes focusing on an offering of meat, or his hands trembling with gratitude whenever the wolf soothed his concern. He was always grateful, even though the mercenary owed the human his life.

Still, the human chose Hatchet as his Master, and Hatchet would surely have him….

“At least… for another day." The wolf confessed. In Hatchet's opinion, it was a little easier to face the harder truths if you spoke them aloud. In all likelihood, they would be separating after meeting his contact after the final day's ride ahead. The wolf felt strangely wary, finding he wanted nothing more than to waste a little more fleeting time with his human.

“My human. Like I truly own him. You're getting in too deep, Hatchet. He is a victim first, and a summoned hero second. He deserves to go home, or at least, he deserves a lot more than some hired sword for the crown can give him…. It's the best thing for him." He tried and failed to ease his worry, but no amount of reason would ever make sense of what he felt. For the first time in far too long, he did not want to be alone.

The wolf reached a clawed digit forward, snagging his index finger into the loop of the bulky collar as the summoned dreamt the morning away. “I want you to eat all you can stomach until the last day you draw breath. I want you to never be left with another scar, no matter how quickly you can heal from it. I want you to know peace, whatever that may cost me to find, for you are due such tenderness in this life. You have shed enough of your own blood. I won't have you following me to shed even more…."

Hatchet clenched his jaw, his brow knitted and nostrils flaring from a measured breath out to steady himself. The wolf pulled the summoned a little closer to him with his larger arm, snugging him up tightly before whispering a final, unheard confession. “I really did enjoy making you climax. You more than deserved it for saving me, but with that kiss you gave me after…." Hatchet shuddered, finishing with an embarrassingly instinctual growl, “I feel in this second life, I've already known more happiness than the entirety of my first."

Hatchet tugged the collar a little too tightly amid his confession, prompting the human to stir from his dreams.

Dark eyes met those like rubies as fluffy fur met smooth skin. Despite all of the sorrows in their past, and all of the uncertainties ahead, neither could contain their smile in that waking moment.

~ ~ ~

The human seemed to be enjoying himself as far as Hatchet could tell, but not quite as much as his mare obviously was. The two were trotting along, a noticeable pep in both as they zigzagged across the landscape. Occasionally, they would gallop for a moment, or he would direct her towards some interesting plant, but they seemed absolutely thrilled by the company of the other. Hatchet was happy to see it.

The sell-sword watched them play for the first half of the day's ride, up until the dense forest gave way to a grassy plain. This was when Hatchet finally stopped, coaxing the human to turn his mount and join the wolf with an observant stare; waiting for direction.

Hatchet dismounted Shade, moving over to the mare after to help the human off. Once they were both down, the wolf took a moment to stretch, raising his interlocked hands to the back of his neck and arching his back, his biceps and chest bulging from the efforts.

The human stared up at the display, feeling a flutter once again. He tore his eyes away, a light blush rising on his cheeks.

'I shouldn't want this so badly….' He berated himself. The guilt for desiring a master after everything the wolves had done to him left a confusion like no other.

He forced his eyes back to Master Hatchet, admiring the beast despite it all. 'But… his rough touch is always so soft. His maw hungers for me, but he does not bite. His capable claws are always so careful when they graze over my skin. His firm hand holds my leash, yet, I know… I will beg him to hold it forever. He deserves something in return. I want to give him something back.'

Hatchet looked at the human and flashed those familiar fangs. The wolf nodded off towards the thinning tree-line, conveying he needed to make a short stop before they continued. He turned and took a few paces, locating a nearby tree that looked like a good place to go. He stood there for a moment, eyes closed, letting his mind drift on all that had transpired during his mission.

There was plenty that stood out -dying for one- but more than anything else, having the human in his maw was at the forefront of those thoughts. However, the time the human took Hatchet into his mouth was competing for just as much attention, much to the wolf's dismay. He felt immense guilt about what he had done the day they met, but he hated how much he'd enjoyed doing it even more. It would seem that guilt was affecting the wolf in more ways than one. His flow just wasn't coming.

With a sigh, the wolf conceded, figuring the call of nature would simply have to wait. He parted his eyes to a different outcome. His human was standing right in front on him, surprising the wolf. Hatchet cursed himself for letting his guard down enough to be snuck up on, but that was hardly the focus for long.

Without warning or direction, the human knelt, his eyes averted as a raging blush burned across his cheeks. He seemed hesitant for a moment, like he was weighing his actions. Then the human cast his dark eyes up to meet the astonished red ones of his Master, a needful longing confessed by that doting eye contact and a maw so willingly parted in presentation.

Hatchet shuddered, staring down at the kneeling human with fading restraint. His sheath stirred immediately, his tip peeking out from its cozy comfort, enticed by an even warmer place to be. He stood there, telling himself he shouldn't; that it wasn't ethical to, growing even more excited as the seconds drug by. Just as he teetered on the edge, preparing to step away before he could no longer abstain, the summoned took matters into his own maw.

And by 'matters', I do means Hatchet's fat fucking dick.

The beast stood breathless, his eyes wide and his body as motionless as his mind currently was.

The human knelt patiently, dedicated to wait as long as his Master needed for the task.

Despite Hatchet's stunned reaction, his body seemed to have little issue taking the liberties the summoned offered. With a familiar chill working its way down his spine Hatchet shifted his hips forward, pushing his tip between parted, pink lips. He released his flow as a content growl escaped between clenched fangs.

The human drank swiftly, ensuring he didn't lose a drop; not from fear, however, but from an eagerness to perform. His Master had a stout flavor; one heady, and potent, and just a bit too overpowering to be ignored in any way. There was something unmistakably masculine about the taste of that piss combined with the smell of that musky crotch. It was exhilarating, to serve in such a way by his own choice. His eyes never strayed from the wolf's as he succumbed to his conflicting desire. He knew his place, and he had embraced it. The low vibration from the wolf's growl only coaxed the human on now, where such notions had only frightened him in the past.

The mercenary stood completely still until the deed was finished, a steadying hand on the human's head the only movement he made. He exhaled at last as the final drops trickled down the human's throat, his disbelief finally giving way.

The human stayed there, the Master still in his maw, growing larger by the second. A grip at his skull made him hesitant to move, but the human pressed his luck and lips forward, accommodating more of his Master, offering all of his maw to the wolf.

Hatchet finally pulled away, knowing he would surely be unable to resist the urges if he let that short tongue flicker against his flesh for any longer. Goodbye would be hard enough as it was….

The wolf knelt, smirking at the surprised summoned. Hatchet saw the worry on the human, so he thanked him with a tender lap on his cheek to settle any doubt. He had enjoyed it. Hatchet rose with his human, coaxing him to stand. Hatchet moved his hands to the hood of the human's cloak, pulling it up to reactivate the illusion. They stared at one another, each feeling the most overwhelming sensations.

Hatchet broke away, steeling himself to make the cut soon. He tied the mare to the back of Shade's saddle and remounted his horse. He pulled his human up on his lap, revisiting their past travel accommodations with bittersweet emotion.

The summoned leaned back into the wolf, snuggling up closer to the beast he so adored.

Hatchet's arms tightened around his human, holding his companion lomgingly for the last leg of their journey together. They would reach Verdant Village -and their contact by extension- by nightfall.

~ ~ ~

Sorry guys. It really has been so damn hectic lately. Holidays working retail is rough enough, and just been busy as shit outside of that, so haven't been able to write as often as I've wanted. Hopefully the story still has some interest after so long without an update. Shorter chapter, but next act kicks off next chapter.

Next chapter will be out soon, (hopefully.) I'll say now, they will not be separating.

See y'all next time. Thanks for reading. Always happy to hear your thoughts and stuff. Happy Halloween!

~Red Bayou