HAVE YOU BOUGHT YOUR FINNISH SLAVE ALREADY?

Hold on tight. I will lead you into a world of tight, finnish boipussi. Thank my gf for this.

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The heavy door opened, squeaking on its old iron hinges. Heetu squinted as someone with a gas-lit lantern appeared in the doorway. He shifted backwards, tucked himself more into the corner of the sofa he was sitting on. The man in the doorway produced a sheet of paper and started to read.
“Touko.” From his accent, Heetu could hear that the man was Finnish himself. The boy named Touko appeared from somewhere and came forward on shaking legs. Heetu tried to breathe calmly. He knew what was coming.
“Veikko.” The man said. Heetu watched as Veikko moved out of the corner where he had been standing. He was the oldest of the group, it was a lucky day for him. He didn’t flinch as they put chains on his hands and send him to the corridor with Touko.
“Heetu.” For a moment, he didn’t register his own name, but then Heetu stood up and walked forward, like in trance. They had told him it could happen already at the first auction, but he hadn’t expected it. And it had.
On the corridor, they chained his hands up and send him to stand with Touko and Veikko until the guard with the list had properly closed and locked the door again. Then, him and the other guard escorted the three young men down the corridor, where they were joined by a third one. He was huge, bald man, but that didn’t mean much, because most of the men working in this business looked like they just stepped out of the woods where they had been chopping woods and screaming at bears all their life. He worked for the auction venue, Heetu hadn’t seen him before.

“With me.” He grunted to Heetu and took him by the chains. Heetu didn’t look back at Touko and Veikko, but knew fully well that this was it. He was never going to see them again. The guard brought him into a room down the corridor, opened the door one-handed to keep one hand locked around Heetu’s wrist, and pushed him inside. Heetu immediately saw that this was a room meant to be seen by patrons – it had tapestries on the walls and a carpet on the floor. There was a bathtub and a bed, it smelled of flowers and there was fruit in a bowl. Heetu swallowed. He was to meet his new master here, no doubt.
The guard closed the door behind himself. “Are you clean?” He asked.
“Yes, sir.” Heetu replied immediately. There was no doubt in what the guy meant – but before Heetu could say anything more than that, the guard already stepped towards him, grabbed his arm and pushed him to the bed. Heetu stopped himself from yelling out in shock.
The huge man bent him over the edge of the bed and yanked down his short pants, making way for his huge meaty hand to pull apart Heetu’s ass until he squealed, and with a short, practiced move, he pulled out the butt plug that he had to be wearing at all times. Heetu made another squeal, which earned him a slap on the ass.
“Quiet now!” The guard demanded, already letting go of him. “Your masters will be here soon.” The guard marched over to a chair and threw Heetu, who was back on his feet, some clothes.

“Get dressed.” The man said, and Heetu obeyed. His new outfit was a bright-red tunic and pants of a darker colour, high black stocking in soft red slippers. The guard watched him dress, but in a completely uninterested way.
When he was finished, the guard motioned him to sit down on the bed and wait. And so he did. After a few minutes, the guard left, locking the door behind himself without a word. Heetu was used to it being like that. The rarely treated them as fully human, they probably couldn’t see them like that if they wanted to do their job correctly. Heetu sat on the bed for what seemed like an eternity, with his heart pounding nervously in the beginning, then calming down after a while, because you can only be nervous for so long for something that wasn’t happening yet. Just as he was about to finally leave his spot and explore the room, he heard the footsteps of multiple people coming from the corridor outside. Heetu’s heart starting racing again as the guard turned the key in its lock and opened the door. Heetu had no idea who he had expected to see, but he was surprised at the people that came in: A man and a woman, probably Swedish, both in their forties, looking very rich and graceful. He stood up and bowed to them, kept his head down and waited for instructions.
“This is him. You are free to do whatever you please, sir and ma’am.” The guard said.
“He looks quite thin.” The woman remarked. Her voice sounded concerned.
“He will fatten up if Emil wants him to.” The husband replied, he sounded strict and unhappy somehow.
“Hey, look at me!” He said then. Heetu looked up, into the face of the man. He had a hard face, a bit of stubble on his chin and tired eyes. “You are a present for our son, Emil. You will come home with us and do whatever he wants. Understood?”
Heetu nodded. “Say something.” The man demanded.

“Yes, sir.” Heetu said. “It will be my pleasure to serve you and your son.” He had learned his lessons, he knew how to speak to Swedes. To… masters.
“Your Swedish is very good!” The woman remarked brightly.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Heetu replied. There was no use in trying to explain to them that most Finns living in Sweden spoke pretty good Swedish, and that he, Heetu, hadn’t spoken Finnish anymore since he was eight years old.
“You will like our home!” The woman said with a smile. “And I am sure you and Emil will become good friends!”
“If it only was for that.” Her husband murmured. He took his wife’s arm. “And stop talking to him like that. He’s a slave.” He nodded to the guard. “We’re ready then.”
The guard nodded and opened a cabinet. In there was a red leather collar on a chain. He handed it to the man. “It is usually given to them after the first time of taking possession.” He explained. The man sighed in an annoyed tone.
“Fine!” He said. Then he turned around to Heetu. “Follow us. If you make trouble, I’m going to beat your little ass bloody.” As the couple moved along the corridor, Heetu followed two steps behind them, never falling back. Sometimes one of them would look back, but luckily, they never found a reason for complaint. They talked about him among themselves, Heetu could hear the woman making remarks about how beautiful he was, for a Finn, and that they really picked out a good one. The man grumbled something about the price they paid and about he was still wondering if this was a good idea.
They passed through the now empty main hall of the establishment, still decorated for the festive act of presenting the newest slaves for sale or rent. Heetu felt nothing but hate for this place, whatever awaited him behind those doors, he was glad to leave it behind, hopefully forever.

Outside, the couple who bought him walked towards a very big and expensive-looking coach, ornamented with flowers and intricate patterns and two huge black horses, their fur gleaming. They were really really rich, Heetu realized. Behind it stood a simpler cart with a cage loaded on top. The coach had a driver sitting on the front, a Swedish-looking one, whereas the simple cart was occupied by an older man who was a slave as well, judging from the blue Nordic cross tattooed on his throat.
“On there.” The man ordered Heetu, and he obeyed without hesitation, climbed clumsily up the cart and into the cage. It was rough wood, but it had a blanket to sit on. The summer evening was so warm that it didn’t matter anyway. After the man had the slave lock the cage and give him the key, the couple disappeared into the coach and their journey began.
-
Heetu watched through the bars of his wooden prison as they left the establishment behind them and then rode through the forest for a long time. He watched the trees and the streams in the dim light of the summer evening, listened to the horses neighing and the crickets chirping in the high grass as they sometimes passed patches of fields. He felt miserable, he was getting hungry by now, and seeing open nature like this always made him sad, nostalgic for a better time, for his childhood, for home. For his cousins. Heetu hardly ever allowed himself to think of Onni and Tuuri because it hurt so much. It stung not to know where they were, if they were okay, if they really had received some money to compensate for the fact that he had been taking away from them. Did they have work again? Or were they enslaved, separated, even dead somewhere? For the sake of the special occasion of being bought, Heetu allowed himself to dwell on them for a while and allowed himself to cry.

It felt freeing to acknowledge how much it all hurt sometimes, if you didn’t do it too often.
It was already completely dark outside when the coach pulled into a small town. They rolled along cobblestone for a while until they turned a corner and passed a few mansions, so big that sometimes, Heetu couldn’t even really make out the house in the distance, just high fences and huge gardens that probably, somewhere, contained a house.
And then, they finally pulled into an alley behind a huge gate and their possession rolled towards a house. It was hard to make out any details in the dark, but there was no mistake that this was the largest house Heetu had ever seen. The slave who had been driving the cart opened the door of his cage as he got it back. The couple disappeared into the house without another glance at Heetu.
“So, out with you.” The slave said in Swedish. Heetu, stiff-legged and clumsy, climbed out of the cage and would have fallen down the cart if the man hadn’t grabbed his arm and steadied him.
“Thank you.” Heetu mumbled as the stepped down from the cart unharmed.
“No problem. I’m Aaron.” The slave said.
“Heetu.” Heetu replied.
“So you’re one of those who get fucked?” Aaron asked bluntly.
“You could say that.” Heetu replied. “It’s not like I chose it.”
“Who does choose their fate these days.” Aaron said glumly, and Heetu just nodded. Together, they walked past the coach and turned to the right wing of the enormous building. There was smaller entrance door there and Aaron opened it with keys he had in his pocket. Inside, it was dimly lit by a gas lamp burning low.
“You’re lucky you got here, though.” Aaron said to Heetu as he lit a gas lamp and walked along a corridor. “The Larssons are filthy rich, so there is plenty of food for us. And their son is stuck-up sissy. I heard you’re for him.”
“I think so, yes.” Heetu replied. “What’s his name?”

“Emil.” The man said. He opened a door and suddenly, they were in a brightly-lit kitchen full of people. There were several cooks, maids and kitchen boys running around and shouting things. The atmosphere seemed hectic, but not unfriendly to him.
“Evening! Where’s Saara?” Aaron shouted into the chaos.
“Hi! She was called to the master’s a minute ago!” A woman replied. She was about to turn back to her work when she saw Heetu.
“Is that him?!” She asked and came over to them. Suddenly, all eyes where on Heetu.
“Yes, he’s the present.” Aaron replied.
“Oh my, you’re so thin!” The woman said. Up close, Heetu realized that she wasn’t that much older than him, but she looked rosy and well-fed, with thick ash blonde hair in a braid.
“I’m Mari. No e.” She said and smiled. “They like it when you have a name they can pronounce. I’m the head cook.”
“I’m Heetu.” Heetu said. He was overwhelmed that everyone was so friendly up to now.
“Are you hungry, Heetu? You look like they haven’t given you anything to eat since the Swedes took over!” Another female cook had said that, making everyone laugh out. Heetu realized that he was incredibly lucky to be here with these people. He only needed to nod so Mari made one of the kitchen boys bring him a basket of bread, apparently leftovers from breakfast. They all watched him with great interest as he dug in. The bread was still pretty tasty, and Mari brought him butter and salt to eat it with, and when the kitchen boy offered him a cup of coffee, Heetu thought he might cry. He couldn’t remember anyone who had been this nice to him who wasn’t family in years.
“Are you okay?” Mari asked as he had to wipe the tears off his cheeks.
“It’s – it’s fine. Just… why are you all so… kind?” Heetu asked into the round.

They all laughed. “Oh, that’s easy.” Mari said with a grin. She moved in a bit closer and said, still loud enough for everyone to hear, “Because we fucking hate those bastards up there, and if we aren’t nice to each other, no one else is!”
She clapped her hands as a bowl of milk was boiling over on the stove. “Back to work, everyone!” she said, and they all got to it. Heetu stayed put for a moment longer with his bread. When everything was going the intended way again, the older female cook came over to him.
“Unelma.” She said. Heetu nodded. “You don’t find me outside the kitchen much, the master’s don’t like me much.” She grinned, a few of her teeth were missing. “They don’t know what to make of my name.” Laughing, she went back to cutting vegetables.
“Let me tell you something, Heetu”, she said, still in earshot as she cut carrots, “don’t trust anyone with a Swedish face in here. Us, you can trust us. We’ll never betray you. If you’re here for us, we’re here for you. We might not be free, but we can find ways of our own to have a nice life if we only stand together. But the masters only think of themselves, don’t ever think they like you or something. But the guards are worse, mind you. They will fuck you over for anything, rat you out, beat you for fun and tell the masters they had to do it. Try to be out of their sight as much as possible. If you want to be safe, come here, the kitchen’s never empty. All the masters do is eat.”
Heetu smiled. This was still completely unexpected. Finally, he noticed that Aaron wasn’t around anymore, but he didn’t mind much, just sat and ate more bread until he was completely full. It wasn’t true that no one had given him any food for ages, just never such good food. Heetu thought that probably not a single one of these slaves would even touch the bread he had eaten at the establishment.

After a while, Aaron came back and had someone else in tow.
“This is him.” Aaron said to the woman in a long, marine blue dress. “Heetu, this is my wife, Saara.”
Saara nodded to him and watched Heetu, her face not readable. Heetu shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
“Saara is responsible for everything.” Aaron said. “You better listen to what she says.” He smiled. “Also she’s my wife, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s my boss.”
Saara didn’t even acknowledge this whole talk with a smile. “Heetu, right?” she said. Heetu nodded. “Come with me.” She said and turned around, expecting Heetu to follow. He scrambled to follow her, out of the kitchen through another door and up two flights of a steep staircase.
“These are the servant’s stairs, use them unless explicitly ordered otherwise by the masters.” Saara said as Heetu climbed the stairs behind her.
“The servant’s sleep on the first floor, right above the kitchens. You get a room on the young master’s floor.” Her voice was completely neutral, there was no way of knowing what Saara thinks of him or the situation.
“Why?” he managed to ask.
“I am not to question what the master’s do.” Saara replied. It didn’t sound like she was trying to shut him up, rather like she was really even trying to understand her bosses anymore. “Leave that to the rest of the staff, they rarely do anything else.”
On the second floor, Saara opened a door into a hallway, much bigger, well-lit and laid out with thick purple carpet. Heetu nearly forgot to breathe upon the beauty of it all.

Saara walked along the corridor, which seemed impossible wide to Heetu, until she found the right door and opened it. Behind the door was a small but prettily furnished room, which a huge bed, clad in bright red linen, a nightstand, a desk, a chair and a wardrobe. Heetu stepped inside in awe.
“Why?” He asked Saara, who stood in the door frame. She shrugged again.
“I was told you are supposed to wait in this room until they come get you around midnight. Try to get some sleep until then.” Saara nodded to him and closed the door. Heetu waited for the lock to turn, but it didn’t. Saara’s steps disappeared.
He was alone.
-
Heetu woke up when there was a knock on the door. He bolted upright, he had fallen into a light and restless sleep. The door opened and light fell into the room. A man stood in the doorframe, a gas lantern in his hand.
“Hello?” He said.
“Yes!” Heetu replied and scrambled to get out of bed and bow in front of what he thought to be his new master, then kneeled down, eyes fixed on the ground. “My name is Heetu, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” He said.
“Heetu.” The man said. It sounded breathless. “I’m Emil.” The man said. He sounded a bit arrogant.
“Look at me.” Emil said softly, and Heetu did. He saw a young man, a soft round face with hardly any edge to it, blue eyes shining down at him in the soft light, wheat blond hair falling down long to either side of his face. He was wearing a white shirt embroidered with ornaments spilling over his shoulders and along his collar. He was absolutely beautiful.
“You are… amazing.” Emil said appraisingly, raising a hand and touching Heetu’s cheek. Heetu closed his eyes, expecting Emil to be harsh, but he wasn’t. His hand and his touch were soft, caressing his cheek, his jawline, down his throat.

Your girlfriend didn't have to bless us with this obnoxious piece of shitty fanfiction. She could have given up writing altogether.

“You’re my present.” Emil said, still in awe. “I will take good care of you, I promise.” He turned around and closed the door behind them, then came back. He took in the room.
“And you will serve me, and do whatever I say, right?” He asked.
“Yes, sir.” Heetu replied.
He looked straight ahead, but behind him, he could hear how Emil walked towards the bed and sat down on it.
“Come here.” He said. His voice sounded breathless all of a sudden. Heetu stood up and walked towards him. Emil was sitting on the bed, his legs planted on the ground.
Heetu felt how his heart started pounding. This left little room for confusion.
“Closer”, Emil demanded, sounding breathless and impatient. Heetu walked until his feet almost touched Emil’s.
“Sit down.” Emil ordered. Heetu stepped closer carefully and placed himself on Emil’s lap, his legs encircling Emil’s torso, his crotch in his tight red pants close to Emil’s stomach. Before he could readjust himself much, Emil grabbed a fistful of Heetu’s hair and pulled his face down for a kiss. It wasn’t rough, but impatient, Emil wanted everything at once, invaded Heetu’s mouth, explored it hungrily. A moment later, he grabbed Heetu’s crotch with his other hand, making Heetu gasp, and palmed it, explored the outlines of Heetu’s dick, gasping whenever he found something interesting to trace with his fingers. His mouth hungrily kissed Heetu’s mouth, his chin, down his throat and upwards again, always directing Heetu’s head by grabbing his hair by the fistful. For a moment then, he seemed to wait, but then he grabbed Heetu’s hand and placed it firmly on his own dick, clearly outlined underneath Heetu’s hand through Emil’s linen pants.
“Blow me.” Emil ordered. Heetu nodded and his heart started racing. So this was really happening, starting from now.

based

Emil wasn’t ugly, or especially mean, but Heetu still felt very overwhelmed by having to do this to someone he knew for, what, 3 minutes now?
He dutifully slid down Emil’s lap until his knees touched the floor, and under Emil’s watchful eyes, he opened the buttons on Emil’s pants and laid his hand on Emil’s dick through his underwear. Emil gasped, watching him with great interest, waiting for him to do more. Heetu palmed the growing erection Emil had, then pulled him out of his underwear. An impressive, completely hard dick sprung free, and Heetu had to fight the urge to back away even stronger now. It was not uglier than the ones he’d seen before, certainly of a good size, and smelled just as musky. While he was still gathering himself, Emil grabbed his hair again and pressed Heetu’s face onto his dick. Heetu fought the urge to wrestle against it. He supported himself on Emil’s knees as he obediently opened his mouth and gagged down the hard cock as far as he could. Emil moaned. Heetu closed his mouth around him. With Emil’s hand in his hair guiding his movements, Heetu started to move his head up and down, Emil always forcing him to take a little too much for his own comfort, to go a little deeper, to stay there a little too long, to swallow around Emil’s cock deep in his throat. He started sucking, and every time a little bit of precum came out of the cock, Heetu had to fight to not gag. For a while, they went slow, Heetu sucking and gagging and coughing as little as possible, but then, Emil grew impatient with that, too.

“Faster!” He demanded, out of breath and harsh, and he meant it – he pressed Heetu’s head down and ripped him upwards in more rapid succession now, Heetu struggling to keep up, struggling to not fight it, gagging when the cock hit the back of his throat, barely having time to compose himself, he sucked and sucked and licked the tip when he got the chance, while Emil gasped and moaned and forced Heetu to go even harder and faster by the minute.
Then, finally, Emil pressed Heetu down and held him there, swallowing down Emil’s entire cock, while Emil thrust deep in his mouth, moaning loudly, forcing his cock in all the way down until he came, came deep down in Heetu’s throat, cum shooting straight to Heetu’s stomach.
Emil fell back onto the bed. “Wow”, he gasped.

This is not fiction, my friend.
This is the future. This is the right of every human being to own a finish piece of frosty meat.

Honestly kill yourself. You're the reason literature went to shit. No wait, women are.

shhhh. don´t fight it. you know you need that Finn-puss

I sincerely hope the far right god emperors will send you where you belong

i belong with my swedish masters

This is some next level faggotry my god.

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TL;DR

I dont like this

sounds remarkably like it is a complete shit faggot copypasta
hmmmmmmmmmmm

Yes hello and what the fuck

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