~~Begin

While the kitchen staff was preparing the king’s tray, Bagoas hurried to his rooms in the harem. He was startled; they were stripped bare. His bed was empty. The rich draperies at his window were gone. He wandered, almost in shock, to see what remained.

Only a few personal items – some of his clothing, a comb, a mirror, a rough hair clasp. His perfumed powders and soaps – treasured gifts from Darius – were missing. His jewelry. Anything that might remind him of his favored status with the Great King was gone. With a great sense of unease, he combed his hair and pinned it back, then went to the common room to wash himself. He found some the make-up and scented powders used by all the boys. He outlined his eyes with kohl, trying not to tremble, rouged his cheeks and sprinkled his skin with the common powder. Better than nothing – but hardly the delicate scent he was used to. He only hoped the new King would not find him offensive.

There was little time. He hurried to replace his things where he had found them in his rooms. He hated to put on clean clothes without a bath first, but he could not let Alexander see him in the same clothes so soon. He changed quickly, picked up the king’s tray from the kitchen and returned to Alexander’s chambers. Questioning Tmarras would have to wait.

He pulled back the curtain at the King’s bedchamber very slightly and looked into the room before entering, not wanting to disturb Alexander and Hephaistion if they were involved in… some private activity. But only Alexander was in the bed, sitting up – and he motioned Bagoas in.

He could feel the King’s eyes on him, watching him intently. He found himself both nervous and excited. When he glanced into Alexander’s eyes, he found no sign of yesterday’s revulsion, only... interest. Approving interest, he thought. He hoped. He dropped his eyes quickly.

Alexander simply sat quietly, watching him. But the King’s own mind was equally nervous. He found Bagoas fascinating, his looks, his manners, the shy way he would drop his eyes when he became aware he was being watched. He could understand why this boy had been a favorite of Darius. Yet, Alexander was wary of the attraction he felt. He had heard his own men comment on Darius’ pretty whore when they were in the harem. Not that they would deny his right to possess and use this boy but they would be less than pleased to learn of any affection he might hold for some Persian eunuch.

And it would be foolish – if not dangerous – to care for someone he could not trust. Besides, there was no reason to expect this attraction to be anything but temporary, like so many others. Infatuations always waned. Only Hephaistion was constant. This painted boy would fare no differently, he told himself sternly.

Hephaistion had urged him to enjoy the boy while he was gone, reminding him – with more than a hint of mischief in his eyes – that conquerors had obligations to enjoy their conquests. Alexander had only laughed earlier – but maybe Hephaistion was right.

Bagoas blushed as the King continued to stare at him. Alexander smiled, amused by these little displays of modesty. When he realized the hair was different today, he motioned Bagoas closer. Before, it had flowed dark and curling around the boy’s face and down his shoulders and back. Now, it was pulled back behind his ears, as it had been that first day in the harem, and held in place with some sort of clasp. Alexander had Bagoas move his head closer and reached up to run his fingers through the hair. He removed the clasp, loosing the hair. Its softness surprised him. Unlike the Persian nobles, the boy’s hair was not artificially waved, but rather had a soft, natural curl.

His clothes, too, were different. Less ornate than before. The clothing was finely made, of course, befitting the favorite of a king, but with just some hints of rich color around the neck. The deep blues and reds went well with the boy’s dark hair and complexion. The deep cut of the shirt invited further exploration. Did the boy mean to seduce him?

When Alexander noticed that Bagoas’ arms were trembling from holding the heavy service tray so still, while he had taken his time, he relented and told him to put it down on the table beside the bed. He pulled himself up further in the bed and Bagoas handed him a cup of honeyed milk. He sipped it and smiled when he found it delicious.

Bagoas looked around. “Lord Phaistion?” he voiced, wondering where he was – but not having the words to ask. “He want milk?”

Alexander shook his head. “Hephaistion is away. On a mission for me. He won’t be back until tomorrow.”

Bagoas understood only that Hephaistion was gone. He nodded. And found himself relieved. He was confident in his skills to arouse and please the King – or his companion, if he was so ordered – but he found the thought of bedding both of them… distasteful. Not since Datis had he been shared or passed around. He hoped Alexander would not use him in this way. His face must have registered his emotions, because Alexander was speaking again. “What’s wrong?”

Bagoas hesitated, then mumbled something about an old memory, hoping Alexander would not understand and drop the subject. He smiled and dropped his gaze to cover his distress.

Alexander understood, at least, that Bagoas did not want to talk and that it had something to do with Hephaistion. Alexander spoke very slowly trying to make sure he was understood. “Hephaistion is Alexander, too. You will obey him as you obey me.”

Bagoas instinctively stepped back and reddened even further. He nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Don’t forget what you are, Bagoas. Just because you are pretty will not sway my heart. Nor Hephaistion’s. We expect obedience.” Still, Alexander was sorry when he saw the boy blink back tears. There was an awkward silence as Alexander finished eating. The boy had stepped back, trying – and failing – to be invisible. Alexander smiled at his quick submission. It was said the boy was bold with Darius – and he would not have it. But he had need of him now. “I want a bath.”

Bagoas nodded. “Yes, Master,” he murmured softly and turned into the long hallway that led to the bathing chamber. Even as he walked the hall, he pushed his feelings back. A slave must never show hurt to his master. Darius is gone, he reminded himself.

The bathing chamber was a beautiful place and Bagoas had always enjoyed being here. The smell was pleasant from the bath oils, and, somehow, the warmth that was oppressive elsewhere was comfortable here. There were special and pleasant memories of Darius here, too, though he pushed those from his mind, as well.

Bagoas was confused. In spite of all his hard won knowledge of courts and powerful men, he found he liked Alexander. But he knew Alexander was dangerous and that affection for the powerful was not safe for a slave who had no choices. If Hephaistion wanted him, he had no doubt Alexander would allow it. Or worse...

He told the slaves to fill the enameled tub and they hurried to comply. When he heard Alexander enter the room, he told them to leave. When he turned to face the King, he found him wrapped about the waist in a robe and he reached to help him remove it. Alexander slipped out of it easily and stepped into the tub. Bagoas could not help but notice the strength of his body, the muscles rippling just below the skin – and the scars. Alexander’s body was covered with them. Strangely, Bagoas did not find them unattractive. Without thinking, he reached to touch one on the King’s arm, but dropped his hand quickly and lowered his eyes when Alexander noticed. He did not see Alexander smile.

Now, he removed his own shirt, in preparation for bathing the king. He started to apply scented cleansing oils to the sponges, but Alexander quickly stopped him. “I don’t want to smell like you,” he said. Bagoas tried to explain the oils had belonged to King Darius - but Alexander became more adamant he didn’t want them. “I like the scents on YOU, Bagoas, but they are not for a warrior.” The boy replaced the bottle of oil and pulled out one of the plain ones. Alexander smelled it and gave his permission for Bagoas to use it. He started to wipe down Alexander’s body, the shoulders, back and arms first, then the legs. He was reluctant, however, to reach into the tub to wash the king’s genitals. Alexander noticed, of course and placed the boy’s hands where he wanted them. Bagoas was unsure – did his King want to be cleaned or did he want to have sex? Bagoas stroked him gently, but was quickly reproached. He blushed again and used his hands more discretely.

The King shifted so Bagoas could wash all of his body. Indeed, he cooperated with everything until Bagoas began to wash his hair. “I don’t want to look like a Persian.”

It took Bagoas a few moments to understand what was said. “No, King Skander. No Persian – just clean.” Alexander relaxed, trusting him, at least in this. He left the tub as soon as his hair was done and Bagoas handed him a towel for his body. Darius would have had multiple slaves in attendance who would dry him, but Alexander dried himself. Seeing this, Bagoas began to rub Alexander’s hair briskly with another towel. In his halting Greek, he tried to explain he must do this quickly to arrange his hair properly. Alexander was not sure what he said, but wrapped the towel about himself, sat on the bench Bagoas pulled out for him and relaxed in his hands. Bagoas combed, dried and buffed the hair repeatedly until he was satisfied. When he presented a mirror to Alexander, the King seemed genuinely pleased.

When Alexander began to stride down the hallway, Bagoas started to follow, but Alexander turned and pointed him back to the tub. “Use it yourself, Bagoas. The water is still warm. No need to waste it.” Bagoas didn’t know exactly what was said, but understood parts. Still he hesitated, thinking it was not proper for him to use the new King’s bath, but Alexander grabbed his arm, turned him around and smacked him on his ass. Bagoas glanced back in surprise to find Alexander grinning broadly. He smiled shyly in return.

He felt guilty pleasure as he approached the tub. He had, of course, been in it before, but never alone. King Darius had often invited him, but it seemed very strange to have the whole of the tub to himself. He glanced around quickly to be sure no one was watching, then poured some of the scented oil into the water. Alexander had approved of the smells on him. As he slipped himself in, he took several deep breaths of the delightful fragrance, then relaxed and dropped his head under the water, running his fingers through his hair.

Alexander had come back – unseen by Bagoas – and watched him ever so briefly before leaving for his meeting. He found himself thinking about how much he wanted to go back and join the boy. But there was no time for play this morning and he refused to acknowledge the thoughts.

When Bagoas was done, he dried himself. Having no comb, he brushed through his hair with his fingers, then dressed and hurried back to the king’s bed chamber. He found it already cleaned – the bed changed, the curtains drawn. He was relieved. He did not know how to do all these things, and was glad to find they were not his responsibility.

He had no idea when the king would return or if he was expected to stay here. He reapplied the healing ointment and began to consider his options. He decided he must return to the harem to be examined again by Tmarras – and to find out about his rooms. And to make himself presentable by doing his hair and reapplying his make-up. Afterward, he would see if he could find Osine. The sentry grinned at him, touching the damp hair, as he was leaving the King’s rooms, but made no comment.

Bagoas acknowledged him and then hurried to his old rooms, where he combed his hair. He started to pull it back as he had done earlier. But then he remembered Alexander did not like that, and he let it fall free.

When he finished his hair, he went to Tmarras. The older eunuch told him to remove his trousers and bend over the back of his chair. He examined the tear and pronounced it was healing nicely.

“Why are my rooms empty, sir? My powders and make-up are gone…”

Tmarras interrupted. His face had taken on its usual haughty expression. “You are no longer a member of the harem. The new King has given away all the boys to his Greeks.” He smiled at Bagoas’ obvious fear. “If the King does not allow you in his chambers, then you will stay with the other household slaves. The only boys this King will keep in the harem are those who work here.”

Bagoas stood quietly for some moments taking in what Tmarras had said. To his disgust, Tmarras held out the ugly wooden phallus. “I suggest you use it – the Greeks will not long excuse you for being unable to accommodate them.” The vicious smile returned. “Or perhaps you would like to be back here. Under my supervision.”

Bagoas only shook his head mutely. Never did he want to be with Tmarras. In that moment, he wanted to run from the room, but there was nowhere to run and his training kept him in place. He supposed the man was right. The thought of the phallas was abhorrent, but he took the ugly thing from Tmarras’ hand. He walked with it back to his old rooms, to pack it with the other things he would take back with him to the King’s rooms.

When his packing was complete, he sought Tmarras again and told him he needed another session with Osine. Tmarras started to object, but Bagoas pulled himself up straight, looked Tmarras in the eye and told him the king had given him permission to study the Greek language again. It was a lie, but Tmarras did not question him, and sent quickly for Osine.

Bagoas pictured himself explaining his activities of the day to Alexander. Yes, I used the Great King’s bath oils and I lied about your commands. He hoped Alexander would be amused.

Osine arrived in the common room in just a few moments. He saw immediately that something was wrong. “Have you eaten?” When Bagoas indicated he had not, Osine fetched what was left from his own breakfast. Bagoas only picked at it and Osine began to realize why he was so thin – and so unlike most of the eunuch servants. He handled the rolls of fat at his own waist.

The two boys worked together for just a short time before Bagoas discovered what Alexander and Hephaistion were arguing about last night. It seemed that Alexander frequently drank more than Hephaistion thought he should. Bagoas was immediately frightened that his questions would be seen as a betrayal of the King’s privacy. “I… I shouldn’t have said anything,” he stammered.

But Osine quickly flashed a huge grin. “The new King’s behavior is already known, Bagoas. You haven’t given away any secrets. He may be a great warrior, but everyone knows his weakness for wine.” And pretty boys. “It is said that the other one… Phaistion, tries to control him.” Osine relished in having knowledge the favored boy did not. “It is also said that others of the Greeks resent his influence over the King. But all of them wish the King did not drink so much.” Osine laughed. “It will be interesting to hear what happens at his meetings today with our lords.”

Bagoas questioned him further and learned that Alexander was meeting with most of the high courtiers in the palace. They would indeed be appalled if the Great King were to drink overly much. “Thank you, Osine,” Bagoas said as he stood to leave. “I appreciate your help.” He excused himself, picked up his things from his old rooms and left again for the King’s chambers.

As he tucked his things in the closet among the King’s belongings, he thought about what he had learned. The Persians would be horrified at drunkenness. Alexander could lose all of their respect. He kept telling himself it was not his concern. This man had conquered his people, his home. Why should he care it came to naught? Because so many more might die. Because my own fate could be so much worse. And finally… because I like him. He thought he might be of some service to Alexander if he were present. Of course, Alexander might also be furious with him. But he would seek out the king and if he was not welcomed… he would apologize and leave.

When he located the gathering, he slipped into the back of the room. He saw that most of the Persian nobles were, as usual, accompanied by their eunuch slaves. He was recognized and his arrival caused some stir. Alexander turned and saw him, then motioned him forward. Bagoas came and prostrated himself. He heard mumbling from the Greeks but Alexander told him to kneel by his side and serve him. When it was time to pour more wine, Bagoas made sure the King’s was watered. Alexander noticed the change and nodded subtle approval. When it was time for the midday meal, Bagoas discreetly served his King, helping him perform the Persian rituals, without being obvious.

As the meeting wore on, Bagoas found himself both surprised and pleased by his new master’s composure. He was amazed by the orders he was hearing. Most of the Persian lords were to remain in control of their lands, needing only declare their loyalty to Alexander. Bagoas watched closely from his lowered eyes and noticed some few who seemed to be hesitant or defiant. Later, he thought, he would tell Alexander what he saw.

When the meeting broke up, Alexander rose to leave, and Bagoas rose quickly to follow him. Alexander was aware his slave was desired by many of the Persian men – and detested by as many of his own. He found himself grateful that Bagoas had searched him out and looked after him, realizing how badly things might have gone without his help. He must try to do something to make the boy more acceptable to the Greeks. By all the Gods, he thought, I’m thinking of keeping him with me.

When they arrived back at the royal rooms, Alexander turned and embraced him quickly, kissing his forehead, before heading to the bed chamber. Bagoas was so surprised that it took him a moment to follow. Then he hurried to help Alexander undress and pulled back the coverings of the bed. Alexander patted the bed beside him and told Bagoas to join him. I’m not prepared. There was a moment of panic. But he quickly undressed and did as he was told. To his surprise, Alexander did not move to touch him. He was being asked simply to rest with the King. To his surprise, he found himself disappointed – he wanted Alexander to want him... Skilled as he was in creating desire, he dared not use his skills on Alexander without being asked. If he could have read Alexander’s mind, he would have felt much better. Alexander wanted to rest before he initiated sex play. But knowing none of this, Bagoas slipped into a light sleep.

~~

He awoke to find Alexander’s hands on his body. He started to tell Alexander there were things he needed to know – but Alexander’s hand quickly covered his mouth. “Shush, shush, pretty one - there will be time for talk later.” At first Bagoas lay quietly under the caresses, insulted that his words were ignored. But this was, after all, what he had wanted from Alexander, this is what he knew how to do better than anyone. And he knew he mustn’t anger the King.

He began to make small sounds of pleasure. “Master, may I… may I touch, too?” he asked. Alexander replied by moving the boy’s hand to his chest. Bagoas began to return the caresses. He was hesitant, not knowing what Alexander would like and not knowing if he should be as forward as he was with Darius. But Alexander instructed him, moving his hands over his body. Soon, Bagoas could tell Alexander liked to be caressed, so he stroked his arms and chest. He hesitated only briefly before moving his mouth over the King’s nipples. He played gently, licking and tickling and soon heard the King’s own sounds of pleasure.

Alexander lifted Bagoas’ head and moved it to his face, kissing him deeply. The boy's soft mouth opened in invitation. Alexander licked at Bagoas’ lips and started to nibble. He moved his fingers to the boy’s nipples. They were soft and flaccid. Alexander began to flick them with his fingers, until they were erect. Then he moved his mouth to suckle and bite. To Alexander’s surprise, Bagoas pushed his chest into his teeth, his moans becoming louder. Willingly, Alexander bit harder and twisted the other nipple with his fingers. There was no doubt Bagoas took pleasure from his actions. And Alexander found himself even more excited to know he could cause such responses in the boy.

When Bagoas reached his hands down to Alexander’s groin, he found him fully erect and hard. He hesitated. King Darius sometimes let him finish with his hands, but preferred penetration. Alexander turned him over and began to fondle his buttocks. Bagoas was used to this as well. Darius had always liked his buttocks, too. He made small moans, first simply as he had been taught, but then Alexander began to pinch him harder and the sounds became true, as the pain melded into pleasure. Alexander moved his hands between his legs, feeling for his penis. “Do you feel nothing?” he asked, surprised that Bagoas was limp in his hands.

“It better for me than I show, Master.”

Ever so gently, Alexander began to push the buttocks apart and moved one of his fingers into Bagoas’ opening. Bagoas squirmed against his thrust. Alexander pushed in a second and third finger, feeling his rim, pushing it to open him further, feeling the sweet opening expand. Gentle as he was, Bagoas experienced unpleasant pain and betrayed it. Alexander stopped immediately, and asked if he would be hurt. Bagoas truly wished to deny him nothing he wanted, but he finally nodded. Alexander groaned but turned him once again and began to push his face toward his groin. These were techniques Bagoas knew well, at which he excelled, and he used his tongue and teeth to tease and push Alexander to higher levels of excitement.

He nibbled the shaft, creating little wrinkles, then used his tongue to smooth them away. He licked at the head of Alexander’s erection, teasing, until he could feel the vibrations on his tongue and lips. When he could feel the final tension build, he took Alexander entirely inside his mouth, suckling. At first, Alexander moved himself in and out, enjoying the warm wetness, but then, in one deep thrust, Alexander pushed himself deep into Bagoas’ throat and was done. Warm seed filled the boy's mouth. Bagoas swallowed and did not immediately release him, but continued to suckle and tickle with his tongue. When Alexander withdrew and moved away, he gently pulled Bagoas on top of him and began to kiss him again. Bagoas sighed in pleasure and relaxed in Alexander’s arms.

As they quieted, Bagoas began to talk of dangers. Alexander did not understand what he was saying, and said they would need an interpreter. Bagoas didn’t understand either, but knew he must wait. He cursed himself for spoiling the mood. He knew the master must leave him satisfied and content. That was the first thing he had learned, before any other skill. Then he tried to make up for it – drawing little patterns with his fingers on Alexander’s stomach and gently teasing his groin. “You pleased, Master?” he asked. He knew he had performed well, but he feared his new master was used to much more. And he had been an idiot to bring up the other matter.

“Oh yes,” Alexander answered, once again playing with Bagoas’ dark hair that covered his chest. “Your mouth is sweet and tender. I have never experienced such deepness, that you could take all of me.” Bagoas was relieved to know he had not disappointed. “Is this good for you?” Alexander finally whispered. In answer, Bagoas kissed him again and laid his head on his chest, his dark hair covering it again. Alexander was charmed.

There was no way for Bagoas to answer the question with words. He could experience climax, but it was always coupled with great pain. He preferred to give pleasure, without expecting it in return – except he found he enjoyed the little pains from Alexander. To be held, to be valued were the rewards he sought. Alexander ran his fingers through the dark hair, spreading it out even further. Gods, but he loved this hair. Finally, though, he pushed the boy aside and said he must prepare for dinner.

Bagoas rose to his knees. “You wish me go?

“No. Not tonight.” Bagoas helped him dress. Alexander noticed the still pouting nipples and he reached to pinch them gently. Instinctively, Bagoas pushed closer. “We will have more time for play in the future,” Alexander said, laughing, finding he truly looked forward to exploring this boy more fully. Bagoas smiled back at him. He understood there would be future times. Alexander brushed a kiss on his forehead and told him to get something to eat. “I will see you when I return.”

Bagoas’ thoughts were swirling. He was ashamed again that his body had betrayed his need of the touches, his enjoyment of the pain. It is unbecoming, he thought, for a slave to express needs. Still, Alexander had seemed satisfied with him. And, indeed, Bagoas did hope there would be other occasions to play.

He thought of going to the kitchen for food, but decided he would rather sleep. Since the King had left him in the great bed, he decided it would be acceptable for him to sleep there. He awoke later to sounds of a storm outside. Alexander was not back and he went quickly to the windows to see if this was a sandstorm, or simply thunder, signifying a cooling of the air. Since there was no sand blowing, he pulled open all the curtains and enjoyed the chill that surrounded him. He started to return to the great bed, but thought better of it, instead pulling out the blankets he had brought from his old rooms and making a pallet just outside the heavy curtains of the King’s bedchamber. As the lightning flashed outside, he was drawn to watch, just as he had been when he was a child. He slipped on his trousers and stood by the windows, enjoying the sights and sounds of the storm.

When Alexander entered through the doors of the great room, Bagoas ran to greet him. The King did not acknowledge him. He was frowning, then asked for paper and writing tools. “Library,” Bagoas answered, leading the way. Alexander followed him. There was a small desk with quills and pots of ink. Alexander moved to sit. Bagoas lit the lamps in the room and Alexander thanked him. But when he asked if he wanted wine, Alexander dismissed him.

Bagoas went back to his pallet, confused again. He told himself that he had never been with Darius this way. He had always been dismissed when his services were no longer needed. This new King he was actually living with. Still, he was hurt.

When Alexander returned and headed toward the bed chamber, Bagoas got up from his pallet, meaning to help him undress. But when Alexander saw him, he smiled, took his hand and led him into the bed chamber. Bagoas helped him undress and put his clothes away. When he turned around, he expected the King to be in bed, but he was standing in the same spot and motioned for Bagoas to approach. He loosened the boy’s trousers from around his waist and they dropped to the floor. Not waiting for him to fold them, Alexander motioned for Bagoas to get in the bed. When Alexander slipped in himself, he pulled up the bed coverings against the rare chill, wrapped the boy in his arms and told him he smelled wonderful. When Bagoas asked what he was writing, Alexander said it was nothing. He kissed him a few more times, gently, and then fell asleep. It took Bagoas longer, but eventually, he slept also, feeling wonderfully safe for the first time in many long days. He was sure now he had pleased his new King.

~~

It was this sight – Alexander holding tightly to a Persian bed boy – that greeted Hephaistion the next day as he entered the King’s chambers just as dawn was breaking. He refrained from his first impulse – to pull the boy from Alexander’s arms and throw him on the floor.

~~end

To be continued...