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A Good Servant Ch. 01

By: LauraSFox



He was waiting patiently for his turn. He knew he held no power over what was going to happen, but still, he had a modicum of hope that he would not end up with a bad master. The training had been hard enough; all the young men prepared to serve in the lavish houses of Drena were talking endlessly about the life of luxury and delights waiting for them behind the heavy iron doors of the Institution. As soon as they reached 21 years of age, they were considered old enough and trained enough to serve the masters.

The last three years had been hellish, as far as Cory could remember. When he'd gone to apply for a simple worker position at the factory, they had rejected him, telling him he was too pretty for that kind of work. At the time, he had no idea what being pretty had to do with anything. Unfortunately for him, soon enough he found out.

Cory seriously doubted that things would change once they were sent to their masters. What kind of masters needed that kind of unforgiving training? After all this time, he still had felt a chill down his spine, remembering how the wooden device was shoved slowly down his throat, forcing him to ignore his gag reflex. He vaguely knew that this kind of training was needed for entertaining the masters' stables of pleasure slaves. On the other hand, any manifestation of sexual desires between the walls of the Institution was badly punished. When two of the boys had been caught kissing, they had been beaten so badly by the servant wranglers that they had to be sent eventually to work the factories, their beauty compromised forever. What had been worse, the rest had been forced to watch their punishment.

What stood behind that reasoning of keeping them pure in one way and shamelessly dirty in another was beyond Cory's comprehension. But he knew one thing, unlike the others. That any master they would get, the hell would just continue.

They were set in lines, apart from one another, so that their would be masters would have plenty of room to examine them thoroughly. The fact that they were naked was the least of their concern. They would be probed and touched and verified everywhere. The biggest fear, after all, was that they would be deemed unfit. A certain percentage was always rejected. Some went back to training. Others were sent to hard work, in factories, a fate that seemed a death of some sort for many of them. Cory had no such fears. He would have preferred working hard but honestly instead of being trained and taught to fawn over empty headed slaves and their hypocritical masters.

It was not a matter of choice, though. Apparently, his fate had been already drawn by others, and he held no control over it. It didn't help, either, that he was quite a sensual being, by nature. Being forced to perceive any sexual activity they had been trained for as just duty, a necessity with no further consequences for a task well done had been particularly painful. He had almost had a lover a long time ago, in a life that had happened before being sent to be chewed and spit by the bowels of the Institution. He still had his regrets that he hadn't lost his virginity back then, to the boy he'd been in love with. 

Arousal of any kind was strictly forbidden. Any sign of such a thing was strictly punished. Cory could vouch that a cane over an aroused member was among the worst kind of pain. "You are nothing but a convenience, an utility, molded to serve. Such lewd desires will be quashed." Those were just some of the words the trainers at the institution kept on telling them. And many of them were transformed into senseless dummies. Cory was not, unfortunately for him, one of them. He hadn't dared stimulating himself in a long time, but that didn't mean they could enter his thoughts, deny him the desire he still nurtured inside himself that someday he would be held, embraced and loved by another human being. As he grew up, transforming into at young man, dark desires began assaulting his mind; surrounded by beautiful boys of the same age, he started fantasizing. Sometimes he thought about being held down and penetrated by the others, used as a recipient of their pent up desires. He dreamed about sucking their beautiful cocks until his mouth was full. He never acted on his desires though. Being forced into abstinence was a really tough punishment for Cory. Knowing that a life without sex was waiting for him made him desperate.

He was pulled out of his mind by the low murmurs. It was a clear sign that the buyers were there. All the servants assumed the position, their eyes cast down, their hands tightly held together at their back, their legs parted. It was an unforgivable impudence for a servant to raise his eyes, to see the masters. 

A soft swish of clothes was the only sign that the masters were already present. Questions were never asked; it was assumed that the trainers had done a perfect job, so the only procedure applied was this visualization session. If a master liked what he saw, he took. That was all.

He could tell by the sound of steps that some of the young men around him were already being taken away. Finally, someone stopped next to him. A gloved hand touched his chest slowly, examining him. Cory could not breathe. It was finally there, the moment when he was going to be taken away, and condemned forever to serve as an appliance in some master's home.

The hand continued, steadily, its explorations. It was now touching the small of his back, just under his clasped hands, then it suddenly descended on his buttocks, squeezing one hard.

He knew he should have stand still. But, despite his better judgment, he jolted and snapped his head up, looking straight at the man handling him like he was nothing but a toy. If the man was surprised, he didn't show it. Cory stared into a pair of cold grey eyes for a couple of long seconds, before he was grabbed by strong hands to be taken away.

He could hear the trainer's low voice apologizing, like through a haze. But then he saw the owner of those steel eyes making a small gesture, and he was let go. He breathed heavily through his mouth. He'd been close to being rejected; he'd missed his chance. Desperately, he searched for the grey eyes again. He opened his mouth to say something, to yell, or do something outrageous, but the gloved hand covered it swiftly, and a short change of glances determined him to keep it shut. He nodded imperceptibly, and the hand moved, caressing his cheek briefly.

The custom demanded that the servant was going to be 'packed' by the trainers and sent to the master's house. So Cory was surprised to see himself pushed to move behind his new master, completely naked. He didn't say anything. After all, shame was not something servants knew or understood. So he started treading lightly behind the man now owning him. His soles felt the ground he was stepping on as if was trying to bind him, but he forced his feet to move, and follow his fate.

***

Now he was standing in front of his new master who was comfortably seated on a lavish chair, his hands crossed in his lap, with what looked like an amused look on his face. Cory could not help staring. The man was handsome, much more beautiful than any other he had seen in his short life. He had short brown hair, neatly combed over his head, and high cheekbones, lovingly balanced by sensual lips. The gray eyes no longer looked so cold. They even had a certain warmth in them.

"So, am I passing the test?" a deep, baritone worthy voice asked, and Cory blushed deeply. Being fair skinned, with blond hair and light blue eyes, his embarrassment was easy to read.

"I ... I don't really understand the question, master."

"Oh, but I think you do. Cory, why did you raise your eyes? You know the punishment for it."

Cory's forehead became all wrinkles.

"Do not over think it. Just tell me."

"I ... master touched me."

He looked with frighten eyes at the man on the chair. Even seated, he looked so tall, compared to Cory's smaller frame. Was the man wanting to learn the truth?

"And? Am I not allowed to touch you?" The man seemed amused.

Cory shook his head. "Forgive me, master. I have no idea what got into me."

He fell to his knees, letting his head touched the man's shoes in obedience.

"I didn't tell you that you could kneel," the man's voice became thicker.

Cory got up, trembling. He felt fear, pure and deep, turning his blood into ice. He knew what the trainers could do to him. What a master could do with a worthless servant, he didn't.

"Speak. Loud and clearly. Don't even think about lying."

"I wanted ... not to be touched. I wanted to be free," he said with difficulty, swaying slightly on his feet.

Laughter made him stop. He looked at the man, not sure if he could believe his ears. His new master was laughing so hard, it made the chair creak. In the end, the laughter subdued. "Well, Cory, you certainly are entertaining. I somehow felt you would be different. So, to make things clear, step closer."

Cory moved, although his feet felt like lead. He noticed how the man's hands were still in his black leather gloves, so tight that he could see the outlines of the knuckles through the material. Like a magician trying to warm up before a trick, the hands stretched, flexing long, elegant fingers. 

"Let's see," the voice grew deeper, laced with promises. Cory was pulled closer by the gloved hands firmly grabbing his buttocks. He gasped. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on letting his mind go blank, as his master started kneading his buttocks, parting them and getting closer and closer to his rear entrance. He felt his organ twitching; he knew he was expected to behave like a sexless being. Soon, his new master would learn the truth and he would be shamed, sent back to training or worse.

"Stop," he begged. "Master, please."

"Why? Open your eyes, Cory."

With great difficulty, he did. The gray eyes stared into his, then traveled down to his groin. When their eyes connected again, the master was smiling.

"So, no amount of beating at the Institution was enough to drive sensuality out of you ... Is this what you are trying to hide?"

Cory nodded, lost for words.

"Good," the man said shortly. "Let's set some ground rules, Cory. My name is Xavier, and I am your master. My first request is that you forget about what you were taught about having to hide your arousal."

The look on the young man's face must have been priceless. Xavier chuckled softly. "Really, they should not insist so much on forcing servants against their nature as males. Sooner or later, they are all used for this, by slaves and even their masters."

By masters? Cory stared at his master in disbelief. "But masters have their pleasure slaves, who are much more beautiful," he spoke, without thinking.

"Glad to see that the cat didn't get your tongue, Cory. I do not keep such slaves. I found them completely boring."

"But ... isn't it ... odd?"

Xavier laughed again. "What does the color of my clothes tell you, Cory?" 

It was only then that Cory looked closer at the man's attire. He was completely dressed in black, austere clothes. Surrounded by luxury, slaves and servants, the rulers, the highest class of masters, had only one restriction to abide to. Their clothes could be of no other color but black.

"Master, you are among the rulers," he whispered.

"Not very perceptive, are you?" Xavier chuckled. "However, the point is that I can do everything I want, including having fun with my newly acquired servant."

Cory gulped. 

"I have one curiosity," the man's hands started moving again, this time going upwards, caressing Cory's flanks. "How did you manage to fool them? A simple touch is making you hot like this."

Then Xavier changed his tactic, this time choosing to touch Cory's nipples, rubbing them between his index fingers and thumbs, mercilessly.

"Master," the young servant almost shouted. "No one touched me ... so no one knew I didn't ... respond to training."

"No one has ever touched you?"

Cory hesitated. This wasn't missed by clever gray eyes. "Who touched you?" Xavier's voice became suddenly harsh. "I don't intend to tolerate this. If you are not a virgin, I will send you back."

The servant felt a pang in his chest. He didn't want to be sent back. A single tear fell on his cheek. "I had a lover once. But he didn't, ... we didn't go all the way."

"Turn and bend," the master demanded, and he did as told.

A finger entered him harshly and he cried out. He was pushed on his fours on the plush carpet, and his butt cheeks were parted roughly. "You are saying that you are still a virgin?"

"Yes, master."

"Then we must remedy this situation. I will take you now, Cory."

"Yes, master."

"I wasn't asking for your approval. Come and make it wet. This is your first punishment. For letting someone touch you."

Cory felt weak to his knees. He felt as if he should have argued, but he knew better. As he turned, on his hands and knees, he was faced with the man's organ, released from tight black pants. It was engorged, angry looking, a thick vein on its tight surface. What made him in fear was the size, though. He used his mouth to grab the head and engulf it in his hot cavern. He was trembling on the inside, but in the same time he was feeling the familiar warmth in his belly. He was aroused, his an organ bobbing between his legs, painful in its needy desire. 

The servant moaned with the head of his master's cock in his mouth. He lapped at it, suckling it. Xavier caressed his hair and laughed softly. "I should not be mad at you ... shouldn't I? Tell me, Cory, do you want your master inside you? You're still a virgin, don't forget."

Cory let the hard organ out of his mouth to respond. "Please, master, I want all of you inside me," he whispered. Long thick eyelashes fluttered, as the servant got back to his task. This time, he took more into his mouth, pushing the man's cock deep inside, down his throat, revealing in the sensation of being filled so perfectly. His master allowed his ministrations, his breath becoming ragged, as well.

He was taken by surprise when the long hard cock was pulled away from his mouth. He whimpered at the loss.

"Don't worry, Cory, you will satisfy your master later with your mouth. I am really looking forward to enjoy your oral skills. You really seem to have a knack for it, too. Now, lie on your back and part your legs. Pray that you did a good job at getting my cock wet enough."

Cory felt as if he didn't mind anything. But when the blunt head pushed against his entrance, his fear got back in full force, waning his erection. "Master, please, I'll die!"

"Use your saliva," Xavier demanded curtly, withdrawing a little. Cory hurriedly complied.

When his master pushed again, he closed his eyes tightly, trying hard to relax. He felt warm breath on his face, ghostly like. "You will not die. You will love it."

The master had to be wrong. The excruciating pain made him scream, as the entire length was pushed inside him. The man remained still, letting the smaller body adjust. Cory felt the pain receding and slowly opened his eyes. His master was looming over him, watching him intently. "I will move now, Cory. Trust me."

And he did. As his master moved inside him, his pain turned into discomfort, then slowly into an unfamiliar ache. Suddenly, the man changed the angle, and Cory grabbed at the strong arms, crying out, this time in pleasure. It felt as if his own stiff organ was rubbed at its roots from the inside and he let himself prey to the sensation. 

"Don't touch yourself," the command came, and he bit his lip. It was nothing he wanted more right now. His master was slamming hard inside him, thrusting with incredible force, and he felt helpless. Liquid came unbound, spewed from his untouched organ, feeling him with a pleasure so intense his eyes rolled in his head.

"You came without being allowed to," Xavier commented through his own grunts.

It didn't look like his master was upset, though. If anything, the servant's disobedience seemed to have triggered a new level of arousal in Xavier, who was now moving so fast, it made Cory's back rub against the thick carpet, like he was without his own capacity to dictate his moves on his own. When the master voiced his release, Cory felt happy. Fulfilled. 

Withdrawing slowly from his servant's lovely body, Xavier commented. "A natural bottom, this is what you are, Cory. Now open your mouth."

His own essence was gathered from his belly by gloved fingers, then pushed into his mouth, while he was still trying to catch his breath. He sucked at the fingers, tasting himself and expensive leather. That earned him another appreciative chuckle from his master.

"Have you ever tasted a man's essence?"

"No, master. They trained my mouth, but not with the real thing."

"So, what do you think?"

"I want to taste master's, too."

"Cory, you sly fox, you just got over your interview."

"Interview?"

"I never hire servants unless I try them personally. And I must say you are the first to pass it with flying colors."

"Do you have many servants, master?"

"Not at the moment, no. I am afraid you will have to look after this big house on your own. And, of course, after me," Xavier added smiling.

Cory looked at his master with admiration in his eyes. His forehead was caressed briefly. "You belong to me now, Cory. You will like it here. Now, prepare the bath. I seemed to have exerted myself a little," the master added with a smug smile.

A Good Servant Ch. 02



Finding his way around the house was not difficult at all. The setup was intuitive and everything was in order, that Cory felt his daily chores would not be too much of a burden. Except, of course, Cory blushed, taking care of the master's needs. He felt strange, but liberated. Humming cheerfully, he filled the huge in-ground bathtub, and used a few scented powders from the nicely arranged recipients. Feeling the stickiness between his butt cheeks, he grimaced a little. He would need a bath, too, but he would have to ask his master. So far, no clothes were provided, but he didn't feel cold at all. The climate all around the house seemed perfect.

Lost in his thoughts, he missed Xavier getting close to him, from behind. 

"What a nice sight," the master of the house spoke casually, and Cory turned, blushing.

"Really, they should have sent you to train at the Pleasure Academy, not the Institution. I guess the trainers no longer have good eyes for real beauty."

"Master is too kind," Cory bowed.

"No, I am not; I am quite difficult to please, usually. Such perfect fair skin," he commented, grabbing the young man's chin and tilting it upwards. "Eyes blue as the summer sky, and flawless blond hair, soft to the touch. Broad shoulders, small waist, perfectly round buttocks. And for those who like having their slaves take them, a nice cock to go along with the rest."

Cory's eyes grew wide. What kind of masters debased themselves in such a way?

"Don't get any ideas into that lovely head. Your holes will be used, but your cock will serve just as side entertainment."

The servant's mind was in turmoil. What was his master trying to say?

Xavier disrobed from his black silk bathrobe, allowing his servant to admire him in all his naked glory. Cory stared, completely dumbfounded. His new master had a perfect body, lean, but muscular. He was tall and graceful, like the statues towering over the city gates, a symbol of dominance over the rest of the world. The servant licked his lips, with a wanton expression on his face.

"You do realize you are openly lusting over your master while you should be doing chores," the master teased, and Cory blushed again. "Such a gem I found," Xavier added while immersing into the bath water. "I know at least someone else who will enjoy you. You will meet him soon enough."

Cory cast his eyes down. He had expected something completely different. Not being taken from the first hour by his sexy master.

"I think a bath would be in order for you, too, my lovely servant. Come here, join me."

The blond stared at his master in disbelief for a brief second, but he quickly complied. He couldn't suppress a moan of satisfaction while joining his master in the hot water.

"Such a sensual being," his master whispered, while gesturing to him to get closer. 

Xavier didn't waste any time and forced his servant to impale himself on his hot spear.

Cory grabbed his master's neck, for balance, and started moving up and down on his own accord, trying hard to refrain himself from shouting out his pleasure.

"Don't keep your voice down. I want to hear you."

It was all Cory needed for voicing his pleasure loudly, lewdly, emitting sounds and grunts like an animal in heat. He felt well used. He was quite certain he would not be able to walk, as he felt the delicious pain of getting stuffed by his master's huge member over and over again.

"Can I touch myself, master?" he asked through his moans.

"No," came the cruel reply, and a frustrated gasp was the answer. "I want to drill you until you lose your voice."

Cory whimpered, letting his head on his master's shoulder, allowing the deep penetration that was making him mad with desire. He could not go any higher. His cock was so hard, on the verge of exploding, he was certain something was bound to give in, to break inside him.

Luckily for him, Xavier came with a low, masculine growl, and his slack body was gently released from the tight embrace. 

"It is hard not to be allowed to come, isn't it, Cory?"

"Yes, master," he said in a small voice.

"Do you think I'm cruel?"

"No, master. You are so good to me."

"You certainly know how to flatter my ego. But I'll have you know that I'll always do as I please, regardless of what you do or say."

"My master's wish is my command."

"You have a sweet tongue to go with a beautiful face. You did great today. So you have earned a kiss."

Cory stood still, his mouth agape. A kiss? From his beautiful master? He had to be dreaming.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Xavier smiled, seeing the look of amazement on his sexy servant's face. He was so glad the servant was attracted to him. With others, he had to work to drive them out of their conditioning. The only reason he'd done so was because all of them had been exquisitely beautiful. Cory was the first to be so open in his sensual nature.

"Do not wash yourself too thoroughly. I want to know that at least part of my essence remains inside you," he said curtly, once he was finished.

He let his servant wash on his own. He could not wait to see Lucas's reaction.

***

"I really don't understand what could not wait," Lucas reproached, while walking through the door. 

"You'll see, and then you'll let me know if your lab experiments could be abandoned for one hour to witness what I am about to show you," Xavier said with a mysterious smile.

Like on cue, the door opened, allowing the young servant to step in, completely naked. Cory advanced slowly, searching his master's eyes for approval. He did not dare looking at the guest and Xavier smiled. 

"Lucas, this is Cory, my new servant. Cory, it is alright to look at lord Lucas."

Green eyes met baby blues, and the young servant stared in astonishment. Just in the course of a single day, he was meeting another gorgeous man. The black hair almost shined blue, while the emerald pools looked inquisitively and demanding. He was all dressed in black, just like his master, but his features looked softer, although manly. A bit shorter in height than Xavier, Lucas looked a bit heavier, as well. While Xavier was aristocratic to the tip of his fingers, Lucas looked as if he didn't mind doing things with his hands. Cory examined the man curiously. His curiosity was answered in kind. Eventually, Lucas smiled.

"Well, Xavier, I am still waiting. He is as beautiful as all your acquisitions."

Cory blushed at the compliment. It didn't matter that they were talking about him as if he was not in the room. 

"I assume you started his training, or should I say, reverse training?"

"My friend, with Cory, I didn't have to work at all."

"Really?" the inquisitive eyes returned to the young servant, who was waiting, wide eyed. "How come?"

"I think I'll better show you. Cory, touch yourself."

The servant touched his organ gingerly. Although his cheeks were in flames, he could not stop becoming aroused at the idea of having to masturbate while being watched by two pairs of aristocratic eyes. For a brief second, he imagined himself sandwiched between the two gorgeous men in front of him and he closed his eyes, moaning softly.

Lucas stared back at Xavier. "You are obviously tricking me. He is as lewd as if he came straight out of the Pleasure Academy. Was he really trained at the Institution? Please, do keep in mind that I am familiar with their procedures. The poor creatures are so taunted and twisted there until they could barely remember having sexual organs at all."

At the mentioning of the training, Cory felt his erection waning. He frowned, trying to get back to his fantasy.

"Well, Lucas, it looks like I found a diamond in the rough. Cory is particularly sensitive and sensual. He even wanted to be rejected at the selection, just to escape a fate of living a life without sex."

Lucas snorted. "With his looks? The slaves would have fought over him from day one. If it weren't for you, I doubt he would have ended the day without being mounted by an entire stable."

Cory gasped. Instead of causing him fear, the image evoked by Lucas made him even harder. The two masters turned both in the same time to look at him.

"Would you have liked that, Cory?" his master's voice dropped a few notes. "To have men lined up for you, wanting nothing but to fill your holes with their cocks? Admit it, don't be shy."

"Yes, master," Cory whispered.

Xavier turned to Lucas, with a triumphant look on his face. 

"I'll be damned ... and should I gather that you have already tested his nymphomaniac tendencies?"

"I had the pleasure of having him twice today."

"Was he thoroughly tested?" Lucas suddenly asked alarmed. "I suppose he has been used before."

"No, Lucas. He was a virgin. Well, he's not one anymore."

"You should really have called for me then," Lucas reproached.

"So you do not want to enjoy him? He has perfect deepthroating skills, although he has to be taught all the ropes. He is a fast learner."

Their conversation was cut short by a low whimper. Apparently, Xavier had forgotten about the order given to Cory to masturbate.

"Master, can I come, please?" the servant begged.

"I only allowed him release once today, and that could not be helped, really. What do you say, Lucas? Would you like a taste of him?"

Cory clenched his hand desperately over his organ. His master was obviously letting him suffer. What he saw next made him even more desperate. Xavier suddenly grabbed Lucas and pulled him into an arduous kiss. He looked as dominant as in his relationship with Cory, and that was incredibly hot. Interrupting the kiss, allowing Lucas the luxury of breathing, Xavier spoke.

"Tell us what you were imagining right now, Cory."

"Me, being taken ..." Cory spoke with difficulty, "... by both masters..."

Xavier laughed softly. "Don't you think you were penetrated enough today?"

"I want more, master."

"Lucas," the master of the house touched his friend's shoulder. "Should we help Cory in his predicament?"

The brunet nodded, his eyes glued to the young male's body. 

"Here is the deal, Cory. I will let you come only if you manage both of us in your tight little ass in the same time."

Cory emitted such a longing sound that both masters laughed.

"Stretching him would not serve," Lucas spoke, pushing his friend slowly aside. "I don't think double anal penetration should be in cards for now."

Xavier smiled, watching the other lord intently. Cory's eyes traveled from one to another, his mind too fogged with lust to really care what they wanted to do with him. His master gently gestured for him to come closer.

"Kneel, Cory," Xavier asked and he carefully sat in front of the two beautiful men, waiting for further instructions. 

His master seemed to like being in charge more than anything, because he slowly unzipped Lucas's pants to take out the man's engorged organ.

"Do you like this, Cory?" Xavier's voice was loaded with promises, and Cory nodded, his eyes taking in the glorious sight of Lucas's erection.

Gently, Xavier pushed his friend's cock into the young mouth, and Cory took it in, his eyelashes fluttering nervously. It had a slightly different taste, and it made him ache even more, deep inside his groin, his delayed release tormenting him.

A gentle hand came to rest on his nape, and then, there was another cock near his mouth, battling to get inside, as well. He gave up reluctantly to Lucas's hard cock to lavish his master with attention.

"Just look at him, Lucas, look at his wanton face," Xavier encouraged his friend, as his own arousal was intensifying. 

Lost in sensations, Cory began using both hands so he could stuff his mouth better. His lips and tongue caressed the silky heads, as he licked them in turn. 

Lucas was staring at him, and Cory looked up, as if drawn out of a sudden from his lustful stupor. When his eyes met the other's, a small moan vibrating in his throat made the man smile.

"Can I fuck your servant, Xavier?" Lucas asked, his eyes still glued to the servant's, as the young man's mouth was filled with cock.

"That is why I wanted you here, you know how much I love sharing everything with you," Xavier said with tenderness in his voice.

What kind of relationship was between the two? Cory could tell they were not just simple friends. He placed himself on his back, waiting to be penetrated, his chest rising and falling, a new kind of anticipation growing in his belly.

Before his eyes, Xavier was kissing Lucas with renewed passion. The two men looked so similar, yet there were so many differences that Cory could barely wait to discover them all. He had always liked to watch people, when he was in training, to find out what made each and every one unique, despite the trainers' efforts to make them conform, think and behave like the results of the same pattern. 

In the two perfect male specimens now frantically undressing before his eyes, he saw more. He noticed the slight reluctance in Lucas's moves, as Xavier was trying hard to get his attention, by rubbing his buttocks through his clothes. Could it be that Xavier wanted more and Lucas didn't? Cory observed how his master was undressing the other, like he was unpacking a long awaited gift. It was funny to think how even the most powerful could not always have what they wanted. 

Lucas's attention, however, seemed to be focused on the lithe form, waiting, legs parted, on the plush carpet. Unconsciously, just from a need to feel something, to complete what he was seeing, Cory moved his hands to his nipples and touched them. Their instant reaction made him gasp, and Lucas gently, but firmly, disentangled himself from Xavier's arms, to place himself between the slender legs. 

"Xavier, please help me with some lube, I want to be inside Cory so badly," he asked, as his shiny eyes were inspecting the servant's golden skin.

Smiling, Xavier whispered something into Lucas's ear, and the man smiled back, amused. 

"Even so, I believe it would be common courtesy to provide ..."

His mouth was taken again by Xavier. Cory did not wait any longer. Despite knowing that he should behave and wait to do as told, he grabbed the man's hard cock and placed it at his entrance, trying to impale himself in it.

"Cory here is impatient," his master joked. 

Lucas grunted at the sudden move. When Xavier offered him the vial, he used it with curt moves, and plunged inside the beautiful body. 

"Oh, yes, Cory, you are exquisite," he hissed.

He wanted to thank the man for the compliment, but his mouth was soon filled with his master's cock, and he hurried to serve, letting himself drown in the sensation of having two gorgeous men pound him from both ends. 

Lucas grabbed the servant's neglected cock and started to rub it. Cory was moaning helplessly, with his mouth full, as his ass was stretched and used and he could feel his own cock getting harder and harder.

"Don't come, Cory," Lucas demanded gently, and he felt as if he could just die that instant. What was with the masters and their obsession to deny a humble servant's needs so cruelly? 

What followed took Cory completely by surprise. "I want to taste you."

When Lucas withdrew from the compliant body, Xavier moved, as well. 

"Go fetch a glass for lord Lucas, Cory," his master asked with a mysterious smile. 

Barely getting on his feet, he stumbled towards the kitchen. He picked a flute and rushed back, his cock bobbing in all directions, now impossible to cool down by any means. 

He stopped for a second, to watch how his master was slowly masturbating Lucas who was now seated on the lavish sofa, his legs parted, and his beautiful eyes unfocused.

"Pour your seed in that glass, Cory," the master of the house demanded, without sparing him a glance, too caught up in pleasuring his friend. 

He didn't need any more encouragement. Feeling his toes curling at the sight before his eyes, he came in waves, trying hard to do as told.

With unsteady moves, he offered his master the glass. Xavier took it and Cory watched in amazement how he handed the flute to Lucas. As Xavier continued to masturbate Lucas, with longer, harder strokes, the beautiful lord raised the flute to his lips and started tasting Cory's precious liquid, with an expression of pure bliss on his face. His own seed spewed from his cock, spreading on his chiseled chest and abs. 

"Now, Cory, come and clean up," Xavier demanded, and Cory knelt almost trembling between Lucas's legs, so he could start licking the sperm from the man's body. 

His master did not waste any time, and Cory felt his ass cheeks spread apart as Xavier's cock penetrated him violently, as if the man wanted to split the servant in two. 

He gasped, and his head was pushed back so he could see to his task, then he understood, as his master exploded inside him right away. Apparently, not even his otherwise cool owner could delay his gratification for long.

As the three lay spent, Lucas was the first to speak.

"I absolutely love his taste, Xavier. Care to sell him?" he asked casually.

"No," came the curt reply, and Cory felt his heart beating faster.



A Good Servant Ch. 03



"Really, Xavier, I don't understand," Lucas commented, looking somewhat vexed with his friend's determination. "You usually get bored rather fast with them. Please at least promise me he can be mine once you are done with him."

They were talking over dinner, while Cory was tending the table quietly, trying hard to ignore the butterflies in his stomach upon hearing the masters' conversation. 

"I believe that it would be no issue for a repeat performance, if you come visit us," Xavier sipped wine from his glass, frowning. "What I do not understand," he emphasizes the 'I', "is why you are so keen on acquiring him."

"I always speak my mind," Lucas answered. "We're not so different, you and I. We both take what we like when we like. Of course, in this case, I could never insist more than it is socially accepted. If this is your final word, I will respect it," he added sternly, while cutting the steak on his plate with measured gestures. 

Cory was observing in silence. Lord Xavier was graceful to the tip of his fingers, even as he ate, while it looked like Lucas was paying too much attention to his table manners. If he didn't know better, he would have suspected the guest to have struggled to climb the social ladder to reach his current position, as opposed to Xavier who looked blue blooded and born to rule.

"I do not usually tell you 'no', you know it," Xavier's voice grew softer.

"Only on not so little things," Lucas commented, looking somewhat disappointed. 

"You see, I have taken quite a liking at Cory, and I would hate to part with him so soon. Plus, it is highly unusual for you to show so much interest in another human being."

There were inflexions in his master's voice, Cory wished he could read. Could there be a chip in the man's armor? Was he nurturing more intimate feelings towards his friend? Were not they responded in kind? He was so deep in thought, that he forgot he was supposed to bring dessert. 

His master looked at him, his half ironic, half indulgent smile back on his lips. Lucas coughed discreetly, to draw his attention.

He murmured an apology and rushed to the kitchen to bring the two servings of mocha pots de crème, he had especially and carefully struggled with, while the masters were recovering from the sensual session from earlier. He had used the heart shape he'd found among the utensils. 

Somehow, his master's choice had rung to him as romantic, so he'd wanted to please him with a proper layout, as well.

As he placed the dessert in front of the two masters, Lucas chuckled softly.

"You are always trying to seduce me with food, Xavier."

"This is not food, my friend, this is pure delight," Xavier commented, digging a small scoop of chocolate pudding and tasting it, half closing his eyes. "He is great as a cook, too," he added, and stared at Lucas with a meaningful look.

"That is to be expected," the brunet waved his hand, like such aspects were trivial. "They are trained to serve."

However, as he tasted his dessert, his green eyes grew a bit wider. "Well, I guess this is something ..." he mused, and using his teaspoon to get another mouthful of pudding, he held it towards Cory. "Come here, Cory, have a bite, too. I suppose you deserve it. Doesn't he, Xavier?" he challenged his friend.

Cory felt like a deer caught in the headlights. He looked at his master, feeling uncertain. Wasn't it a breach of protocol to accept something from another master? So far, Xavier had been in charge, even in much more intimate matters, but right now, he felt as if Lucas was crossing an invisible line.

"Go ahead, Cory, let Lucas feed you," Xavier ordered shortly, his appetite for his own dessert suddenly gone.

Cory tried to take the teaspoon from Lucas's hand, but the man stopped him. "Not like this, Cory. You will have to take it with your mouth."

The servant could feel his cheeks ablaze. He half closed his eyes, afraid he was going to embarrass himself. He gently took the teaspoon in his mouth, and used his tongue to clean everything. He tried to straighten up right away, as if he could felt his master's eyes watching him. 

Lucas grabbed him all of a sudden and placed the servant on his lap.

"It is delicious, isn't it, Cory?" the man placed the utensil on the table so he could caress the servant's thigh. 

"Yes, Sir," he said sheepishly.

"Do you know how it tastes better?"

He shook his head slowly, trying hard not to look at Lord Lucas, overly conscious of the hand that had slowly caressed him, now resting on his waist.

"From a pair of beautiful lips."

He watched, not even daring to breathe, how Lucas unceremoniously dipped his fingers in the dessert. He stood there as his lips were gently painted with chocolate, and moaned softly when Lucas's lips closed over his.

When he opened his eyes again, and Lucas gently put him down so he could stand, as well, he noticed his master was no longer in the room.

***

"I didn't peg you for the jealous type," Lucas commented while preparing to walk out the door. 

Behind the door to the giant hallway, Cory listened. He knew he was not supposed to be there, as his master had clearly ordered him to his quarters while he was going to see his friend to the door.

"Jealous?" Xavier was obviously trying to keep his cool.

"You are so easily provoked."

"You are probably doing a fine job at provoking me."

"A simple kiss? Really, Xavier?" 

Cory could not stop thinking Lucas was cruel. 

"It was not a simple kiss, Lucas, and you know it," Xavier said accusingly.

"You always invite me to partake, and I usually decline. I thought you would be happy seeing me so enthralled with your little pet."

"I thought so, too," Xavier's voice dropped a few notes. 

There were kissing sounds, and Cory could only picture the two beautiful men in their tight embrace.

"Why?" he heard Xavier speaking again.

"You know very well why," Lucas said matter-of-factly. "I'd rather be your friend forever, then your lover for a day."

"It wouldn't be that way between us," Xavier said softly.

"You always say that," Lucas laughed. "But you forget that I know you very well. You burn too hot, too fast. The only reason why you still want me is because except for these little trysts, I always say 'no'. Plus, I would be a fool to give my heart to you. You are ruthless. You step on broken hearts, like it is the most natural thing in the world."

"You're painting me in so bad colors," Xavier complained.

"They are your true colors," the other stated.

"At least, let me have you once," the master's voice grew hotter.

His demand was received with a low chuckle. 

"Don't even think about it, Xavier. No one fucks me. Not even my best friend."

Cory hurried to reach his room. His suspicions had been confirmed and now he was starting to feel afraid that his master's frustration and anger with being so bluntly refused by his beautiful friend was going to have a target in his puny little person.

***

He heard the bell ring and he knew he was summoned. He walked towards the master bedroom, with a nasty sensation curling in his belly. Lucas had commented on Xavier being ruthless with his lovers. Not that he was his master's lover, which only meant the man could not even be bothered to have mercy while exacting punishment.

Knocking softly, he entered.

"Have you called for me, master?"

Xavier looks amazing, his pale skin a beautiful contrast against the black silk sheets. He was completely naked, in a relaxed pose, but Cory could not let his guard down. The man had been upset with what had happened over dinner, and there were not going to be pleasantries being exchanged between the two of them before going to bed.

"I must have you know, Cory, that my appetite is quite difficult to quench. Especially I require service before bedtime."

He gestured for the young servant to approach, and Cory's eyes traveled the harmonious, worthy of a statue, body, to rest atop the erection the man was sporting.

"Yes, I see you know exactly what I mean. Use your mouth. I promised you I'll feed you some more, didn't I?"

Cory nodded and climbed the bed to sit between his master's legs. He carefully took the engorged head into his mouth, but Xavier's firm hand pushed him all the way, making him choke in surprise. He pushed against the man's thighs and focused hard on stopping his heaving.

"He likes you," Xavier commented, and the servant could not tell whether he was angered or bored while saying so. "Lucas doesn't like anyone," he continued while pushing Cory again to swallow him whole. "He is too busy with his experiments to care about such trivial things. It is rarely that I see him so worked up."

Cory felt fear growing deep and dark inside. Suddenly, he felt again as if he was in that strange dark room at the Institution while that long and hard device was steadily stuffed down his throat. It drove the fear of gods into him, and now he felt the same, as his master was using his throat mercilessly. 

Suddenly, his head was captured by two strong hands and he was forced to look into his master's eyes.

"You are crying," the man said and Cory blinked, and tried to wipe his tears away. "You are beautiful even when you cry," his master brought his lips closer and kissed him, long and deeply, with gentleness he had not had before. 

He had Xavier on top of him, making room for himself between the slender legs and kissing him slowly. 

"He will never have you. He doesn't realize it, but by singling you out, he made a terrible mistake. For as long as he will want you, I will not let you go. I will fuck you every day, use you as I please, and only let him have morsels to keep him interested."

Cory said nothing, trying hard not to tremble. His master seemed to be a dangerous, vengeful man. He knew nothing about him; nothing, except the fact that he was going to be used as a pawn in the game the two men were playing. 

"He will learn how difficult it is to wish for something you cannot have. Then, he will understand my pain."

Cory arched his back, as his master penetrated him. The pleasure was there, naked, but cruel. He didn't feel elated, like the first time; he was afraid, his body just responding to the new conditioning of being invaded like that. 

Xavier moved inside him, slamming hard into him, but he didn't cry out.

"Does it hurt, Cory?" he demanded, his eyes burning.

Cory opened his eyes to look at him. "I take everything my master wishes to give me," he said, and Xavier's eyes grew wide for a split second. Hot lips descended over his, as his master settled for a more forgiving rhythm, making him squirm.

His cock was pressed between their hard bodies, the delicious friction making him spew his load. He felt the now familiar sensation of having his insides coated with hot manly seed. Xavier withdrew a little, and rested his head on his chest, breathing heavily.

"You are very smart, Cory, very smart. You know what buttons to push. Then I will tell you just one time, because I know there will be no reason to repeat myself. Cross me, let Lucas have you behind my back, and the consequences will be dire. Understood?" 

"Yes, master," he said softly. It felt unnatural to be threatened just after having hot sex with his beautiful master, but now he understood once more his place in the world. He had no high hopes. After all, the rulers were masters to everyone else. They were above the law, corrupted by so much power entrusted in their hands, and ruthless. 

"Do I frighten you?" Xavier demanded, letting his body slide to one side to let Cory breathe. 

"Yes, master," he said in a small voice.

"Fear is good, Cory. It keeps you alive," his master commented.

"May I go to my room now, master?" the servant asked carefully.

"No, it's been awhile since my bed was kept warm for the entire night. Remain here," Xavier dragged him closer, and placed the blond head on his firm chest. 

"May I wash?" Cory asked hesitantly, although he knew the answer.

"No, I want you marked by me. Tomorrow, I will have the jeweler come. He'll make you a beautiful collar. I'm thinking sapphires and gold. It will go with your eyes," Xavier pondered, while gently caressing his servant's back.

Cory could not understand how his master could be so gentle in his gestures and so cruel with his words. He stood there, listening to Lord Xavier's steady heartbeat for a long time, before he could fall asleep.

***

Preparations for a large party were underway, and Cory was buried in chores head over heels. Other servants had been brought along with their masters, and his otherwise calm kitchen was all a ruckus. He was seeing to his tasks with his eyes down, trying hard not to look at the young servants around him. He expected expressionless faces, like the ones they were trained to achieve, while being educated at the Institution, but he saw nothing of the kind. 

The young men seemed boisterous and carefree, and there was gossip flying in all directions. From the stolen glances, he could tell none of them had been with him at the Institution at the same time. They were probably from other units, he mused, as strict rules commanded that no servant in training was to roam the area as he saw fit. So, except for the dozen boys he had been with in the same room, he had no knowledge of anyone else.

"Isn't he pretty?" he heard a tall, beautiful redhead commenting.

He continued to stack plates, just looking once at the man talking. The servant was staring at him, but he could not say whether he was the subject of the conversation or not. The other three servants had stopped from their activities and they were looking at him, as well.

He blushed and cast his eyes down.

"Wow, so virginal," another, with fair hair, like Cory, commented. "How can you be in Lord Xavier's service and still be able to blush?"

The redhead punched the other in the arm. "Stop it, Kain. He's obviously new."

A smaller, cute male, with a mop of black hair getting in his eyes, joined the conversation. 

"Cory, tell us, has your master fucked you?"

The question didn't sound like an insult; actually, the four letter word sounded completely natural, and the youngster's question just simple curiosity.

The rest laughed seeing his hesitation. The redhead took him by the shoulders.

"Come now, Cory, we're dying to know. All the servants in Lord Xavier's service so far have been so thoroughly fucked, that you cannot believe the stories they said. So, please, please, with sugar on top, tell us all the dirty details!" he made a dramatic gesture as if their whole lives depended on Cory's confession.

"I ..." Cory started, "I cannot tell anything."

"You're afraid," the redhead commented. "How could you be? Your master has made the happiest servants in Drena so far. When he's done with one, he sets him free with a pile of gifts. You could not believe those cocksuckers now, how they go to parties, and wiggle their tails to rich tourists, just because they had the chance to be in Lord Xavier's bed," he commented, expressing his disgust.

"Your masters ...", Cory blushed, "don't they all ...?"

Another unanimous laughter was the answer. "No, sweetie. They have pleasure slaves trained at the Academy to satisfy their cocks. We're just some glorified housemaids, that's all."

Despite the brazen attitude, Cory could tell the redhead was disappointed, and he understood why everyone was so interested in what he had to say. But he was still afraid. They obviously had no idea how scary the man could be. They had not been threatened like he had been.

The bell made them all stand to attention for a second, and then hurry to see to their tasks again. Cory went first to set the table.

Firm hands grabbed him from behind, as he bent over the table to place utensils next to the plates.

"Hello, Cory," he heard Lord Lucas whispering in his ear.



A Good Servant Ch. 04



To say he felt nothing while his hips were held still by strong, firm hands, would have been a lie. Despite his sudden need to just push his ass against the owner of said hands, his conscience told him to straighten up and assume a rather frigid countenance, as he turned to face lord Lucas.

"Good evening, sir," he bowed politely, his eyes traveling from the man's chin along the black silk shirt to find a rescue point in the subtle black diamond tie needle, one of the few jewelries the rulers were allowed to wear.

The man did not seem to be taken aback by the servant's attitude. A low chuckle was the answer and Cory's chin was gently tipped, determining the young man to look up. The slightest amount of blush colored the high of his cheeks for a brief second, as his eyes sank in the emerald pools. The fact that Lucas was so beautiful it hurt didn't help. Mustering all his courage, he cast his eyes down, avoiding the direct look.

"Can I help you with anything, sir?"

He could almost congratulate himself for maintaining his voice steady as he spoke. 

"Oh, Cory," Lucas whispered seductively, "you can help you me with a lot of things."

The young man was saved by the rest of the servants, marching from the kitchen with all kinds of delicious treats on their trays.

Cory took advantage of the brief interruption and scurried away, murmuring an apology. No matter how much he wanted to stay right there, and lose himself in Lucas's amazingly hypnotic gaze, he knew his master's words could not be taken as idle threats.

He was aware that the man would not follow him to the servants' quarters, so he hurried to his room to catch a breather. He needed to wash his face, and regain a neutral color and fast, as a servant with cheeks ablaze would have made, for sure, a strange subject for conversation in the lavishly appointed dining room.

As he got in the hallways again, he almost head-butted the redhead servant from earlier.

"Cory," the servant said sternly, "your master is a bit dissatisfied with your sudden disappearance."

"I will be right there," he said quickly, and tried to get fast past the redhead.

"My name is Dion," the servant said, catching his arm.

He turned to smile at the other. "Nice name," he commented, and the other winked at him. 

"I'll help you out tonight," the redhead walked side by side with him. "It is your first party? Of this size, I mean?"

"Yes, it is," Cory admitted, while still walking fast. 

"Sorry about earlier, we were way too nosy. But a servant's life does not have that many highlights, except for gossip. We kind of want to know everything."

"That's alright," Cory shook his head a bit. Dion seemed to be a really nice guy, and he could use a friend close to his age and station.

"After we tend the table, we will have to get the slaves prepared for the show," Dion dropped his voice, and looked at Cory, trying to gauge his reaction.

But Cory remained silent, not knowing if a reply was required to that or not.

Hesitantly, Dion continued. "Does your master allow you to ... help?"

"Help?" Cory shrugged. "I don't know, I guess I'll have to ask."

***

Cory could not say whether the masters were truly enjoying themselves as the atmosphere around the table seemed to be quite hush-hush. There were very quiet conversations being muttered, and it looked as if those seated at the table were interested only in the people located within close proximity and nothing else.

As they finished serving the courses, he noticed how the other servants were called by their masters and then sent away with a short nod. He caught Dion's eyes for a second, and the redhead made a small gesture towards Cory's master.

The young servant understood. He had spent almost the entire evening behind Xavier, trying hard to ignore how intimate he and Lucas seemed. They were talking sotto voce, just like everyone else, their heads almost touching, while, in turn, they barely touched the food placed in front of them.

Somewhat reluctantly, he got closer and leaned in, so his master could hear him.

"Master, I apologize for interrupting," he whispered.

Xavier turned with a somewhat displeased expression on his face.

"Speak," he said shortly.

"I was wondering if I should go help the others preparing the slaves," he continued, keeping his eyes down.

There was a short glint in grey eyes that Cory missed. A quick glance was shared between the two rulers. Lucas's lips pursed in displeasure.

"Yes, of course. After all, you need the training, and since I don't keep any slaves, it would be hard for you to achieve that kind of knowledge otherwise. Go with the others. I look forward to seeing what you have learned tonight," he added with a mysterious smile, again looking more at Lucas, then at Cory.

The servant nodded in the same fashion he had noticed the others doing and walked away, without looking at his master or his companion.

Lucas voiced his protest as soon as Cory was no longer within earshot.

"Xavier, is this a way for you to torment me?"

"What are you saying?" Xavier feigned innocence. "He just needs the practice."

"He needs the practice ..." Lucas mirrored his words. "... he in particular, of all the servants you had."

"You know I've never kept anyone on a tight leash," Xavier's grey eyes turned into slits, as he continued to smile. "My servants are allowed ... how should I put this? ... a bit of leeway to compensate for their otherwise boring lives spent dusting and cooking all day long."

Lucas straightened his back and moved slightly away from his friend, as if he no longer cared for companionship. 

"Leeway ..." he sneered while repeating the word. "He has no clue about what to expect, has he, Xavier? You know his conditioning will force him to serve. What would you possibly hope to achieve with this? With his looks, he will obviously be used."

"And why shouldn't he?"

"Don't you mind having your bed warmer spread and thoroughly fucked by some low life slaves? Or others' cum is just your choice for lubricant?" Lucas spat the words, while grabbing his champagne flute in front of him, in lack of anything else. The strong fingers flexed against the glass, as if their owner was trying to strangle the poor object happening in his way.

"Come now, Lucas, don't be crass. This is so not like you," Xavier chided, ignoring the tension in the man's shoulders.

"That only proves how little you know of me," the brunet dropped his voice to an almost pained whisper.

Xavier's eyes flashed in anger. Lucas was really cruel to treat him like this! And for what? For a servant? He touched the man's hand, caressing the small patch of skin between the black glove and the hem of his shirt. 

"Why?" came the barely audible question. "Just because you can?"

Xavier sighed. "No, because every little thing in this world is set, and a servant does not belong in a ruler's heart."

"But he does belong in a ruler's bed," Lucas continued to ignore Xavier's touch.

"Why not? They are prepared and trained to serve."

"Not like this, and you know it."

"Yet there are many ignoring this so called rule you are talking about," Xavier shrugged as if they talked matters of minor importance. 

"With all due respect, Xavier, you are in a class of your own when it comes to this. You ostentatiously refuse to take any slaves, just to debase these creatures and make them yield. Is conquest the only thing you care about? Is this why are you insisting so much in trying to get me in your bed?"

Xavier frowned. Lucas seemed quite disturbed. It was unlike Drena's brightest mind to judge his best friend in such a manner. 

"I told you it would be different between us," he said sternly, withdrawing his hand and stopping the caress on the brunet's wrist. His fingers itched for the touch, but they had to behave for now. "I could even let you ..." he leaned forward and whispered something in Lucas's ear.

The man didn't look pleased. "I would still not be interested," the words poured acid on Xavier's pride. "Do not mistake the little liberties we take for something else. I've never been and I never will be interested in being more than friends."

Xavier feigned a small yawn, to hide his unease. Lucas was a passionate human being; it was one of the things he loved in his best friend. But getting on his wrong side had never felt like this before; it was not like he was afraid. Friends or not, there was no one above him, no one. Xavier had been born to rule, and other position than number one was beneath him. In dealing with other diplomats, or with his many lovers, it didn't matter; he was the one in charge. Lucas just had to be taught, despite his overbearing pride. Even if Xavier had to crush him, he had to make the beautiful brunet his. 

***

Cory stepped into the large living room, transformed into the slaves' headquarters for the evening, his head in the clouds. Getting away from Lucas made it easier to think of him, so when he took in the scene before his eyes, he just remained stuck in the middle of the room, his mouth agape.

Several male specimens, completely naked, were relaxing in various provocative positions on the sofas brought to the room specifically for the event. The servants Cory had met earlier were fawning over them, making their perfectly tanned bodies glisten with special oils they had probably brought from their masters' homes.

He noticed how Dion was carefully massaging the round buttocks of a beautiful brunet with long hair. When the slave's eyes lazily opened, he noticed they were the deepest blue. 

The slave shifted and watched him with interest. Cory just stared, finding it impossible to unglue his eyes from the brunet's steady gaze.

"Who's the new bitch?" the slave drawled the words, and Cory felt an unfamiliar sting somewhere right in the middle of his chest.

Dion slapped the man's buttocks. "Play nice, Antoine. He belongs to lord Xavier," the redhead warned.

"So?" the slave got up, followed by other pairs of interested eyes, as he got closer to the object of his interest. 

Suddenly, it was silence; Cory could feel it, thick and dangerous around him. The slave called Antoine stopped in front of him. He was a few good inches taller than the servant, so Cory had to tip his head a bit backwards to keep his eyes on him.

"Pretty," Antoine commented, while catching a few strands of blond hair and playing with them, by rolling them on his fingers. "Since you're Xavier's toy, I suppose you know well how to suck cock," he said with a small smile that made Cory shift a bit nervously.

Fortunately, Dion came to the rescue. "Don't bully him. He's new. And just because he belongs to lord Xavier - don't ever forget to add the honorific, Antoine, or one day your ass will be toasted - it does not mean that he is supposed to be your toy, too."

"What?" Antoine crossed his arms over a perfectly chiseled torso. "I am only asking to be prepared by him," he smiled and winked at Cory.

"I think I am perfectly capable of doing that," Dion's dark eyes grew a shade darker. 

"I am bored of you," Antoine flicked his mane of black hair over a shoulder, trying to dismiss Dion from his view. "With you, it's always the same routine. I want something new. Can you give me something new?" he asked, lifting his chin in disdain, and watching Dion through his eyelashes.

"What a melodrama queen," Dion hissed. "Any hot orifice will do for you. Stop being difficult."

"I can tell master my performance lost its shine because you failed to prepare me," Antoine warned, making Dion roll his eyes in exasperation.

Cory felt compelled to intervene. "There is no problem, Dion. I came here to help, after all. Please let me know what I have to do, and I will do my best."

His small speech made the two turn their heads in surprise in the same time. Cory could tell the others in the room, slaves and servants alike, were now staring at him. Again, he was showed his place. His master was one thing, though; a powerful man, capable of crushing Cory within a blink of an eye, while this slave was nothing but one of the many toys groomed to please the rich, just like him. 

"Then suck my cock," the brunet said, grabbing his package and giving his organ a tentative rub.

Cory's serene sapphire eyes clashed for a brief second with the deeper blues. 

"Please make yourself comfortable," he said with a small smile. Dion was looking at him, wide eyed, saying nothing, and, in passing, as he followed Antoine to the sofa the slave had been sprawled until earlier, he winked at the redhead. 

He had to meet these famous slaves, after all, and his master was right that he needed the practice. He was a fast learner and he was not going to let Antoine see him ashamed or embarrassed. 

The brunet lay on his back, parting his legs, and raising his lean, muscular arms above his head.

"Make it hard and wet. I have some drilling to do tonight to please the masters. So don't give me some lame blowjob, bitch," he said with a sneer.

Calmly, Cory took a seat between the long legs and touched the slave's organ, carefully drawing back the skin and caressing it.

"Your humble servant's name is Cory," he looked Antoine in the eyes, as he descended to engulf the round head in his mouth.

The short hitch in the brunet's breathing, as their eyes remained locked let him know he had won. Even small victories were worth taking into consideration, for a young servant who was expected to please and nothing else. 

His eyes at half mast, he incrementally pushed the growing organ into his mouth, letting it slide down his throat. The now well known familiar stir in his groin made him shift a little, to adjust his position. If he wanted to survive tonight, without fear of embarrassment and worthlessness, he had to keep his head in the game. So he thought at the harsh training at the Institution, to will his erection down. 

The brunet did not seem to care that Cory's skillful technique was lacking in enthusiasm. He grabbed the blond head and pushed inside, deeper and deeper. The servant took the reins once more as he squeezed the base of Antoine's cock hard and withdrew.

Antoine whimpered, as he felt cold air hitting the skin that had been so properly lavished until then. 

"You are properly stimulated now," Cory politely bowed and stood up. 

The brunet followed him with his eyes, as Dion hurried to pamper him some more. 

"I want him," the slave said like a petulant child. 

"And?" Dion shrugged, but he looked after the blond as he took a seat at the far end of the room, the same serene look on his face he'd had as sucking Antoine.

"What do you mean 'and'?" Antoine spoke annoyed. "He'd better be here after the party, or else ..."

"Else what?" the redhead challenged.

"Or it will be you passed around tonight. And I know how much you hate it when I let all of them have a go at you."

Dion pretended to be unaffected. "Have it your way. I do not mind as much as you think I do."

"Watch it, Dion," Antoine's voice dropped a few notes. "I can always make the game more interesting. Maybe we should test how much you can resist with your head under water, this time?"

The redhead stiffened visibly. "You wouldn't dare," he warned, but his confidence from earlier was visibly shaken.

"Master doesn't really care. He can always replace you with some new face. I'm not sure if he even knows your name ..." the brunet seemed to ponder, with an evil grin plastered all over his face. 

"He'll be here," Dion blurted out, the corners of his mouth falling and his eyes looking down. 

Antoine patted his head, in a fake gesture of affection. "Good boy. That's what's keeping you interesting and alive, Dion. Your ability to execute orders. Don't forget."

Dion looked grimly over the place where Cory sat, seemingly unaffected by the slurping sounds and moans filling the room, as the servants were getting the beautiful slaves ready for the show.

Antoine suddenly took his hand and placed it over his softening erection. "C'mon, Dion. Give it a few rubs, for luck."

"It's not like you need it," the redhead regained some of his composure, but did as told, making the supple organ lengthen in his hand again. 

The brunet laughed and grabbed Dion's head to place a quick, hard kiss on the servant's mouth.

From his place, Cory watched. He could tell Dion was afraid. Despite the beauty, the luxury, fear was ever present, and he could only guess what Antoine wanted as he gestured towards the place where Xavier's servant sat. 

If he could live through his master's threats, he could live through the whims of a pampered slave. His back straighten, his eyes looking ahead, he stood there, as if nothing mattered in the world.

***

The servants were not necessary during the performance, so they chose to remain in the living room after the slaves took their leave.

Cory sat next to Dion who looked lost in thought.

"So, Dion," he asked the redhead, "what is the performance all about?"

The other servant threw him a furtive look. "The masters enjoy seeing their slaves battling for dominance in a ring. And, of course, fuck," came the explanation.

Cory nodded. Dion made a small gesture as if he wanted to say something else, but then returned to his sullen silence. 

The blond could feel something was amiss. He gently touched the other's shoulder. "What did Antoine say to you that you are so afraid right now?"

The redhead almost jumped. "N-nothing," he stammered, but his face scrunched in a painful grimace. "Look, Cory," he just blurted out, "you should just go."

"And where should I go?" Cory asked with a small smile. "This is my master's home."

"Antoine ..." Dion breathed out, on the verge of panicking, "he wants to ..."

Cory squeezed Dion's shoulder. "I guess I know what he wants."

"No, you don't", the redhead said sharply. "He'll force you to do it with everyone else. He gets off on making others feel miserable and useless. He'll make you feel like a cheap whore, and you will not be able to say 'no', because ..."

"Dion," Cory warned. "Is your master letting him do it? Debase you and feel bad about yourself? Use you?"

"He doesn't care," Dion's eyes were wet with tears. "Please don't let it happen to you."

Cory's shoulders tensed. "Thank you for the warning, Dion. But sooner or later, it will happen anyway. It may be Antoine or someone else. And I was sort of warned before this may happen."

Dion sniffled. "Aren't you afraid? You may still be ... a virgin?" the redhead asked, unsure.

Cory shook his head slowly. "Were you when it happened?" the blond asked hesitantly and the other nodded with a bitter expression on his face. "Don't worry. He's a stupid one. And I saw you dealing with him. You can have power over him."

"I can?" Dion stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I may be new here, but there is one lesson I learned since I came here. Tell them what they want to hear, do what they want you to do, and you will have a fair chance to survive. Deep inside, be true to your own self."

The redhead stared at him in awe. "How old are you, Cory?"

"21."

"And how come you're so smart?"

"I doubt I'm smart. But I know one thing. That I enjoy living, even if it means suffering or being treated like you matter less than anything."

Dion looked around, with a sad expression in his eyes. 

"Drena is the most beautiful city on the coast. Yet so few people can enjoy its riches. From all, we are the worst. Slaves to the slaves, we are nothing but a commodity that, once rendered useless, can be thrown away."

"What happens to the servants? How long are they supposed to serve?"

"When we get too tired or too used, we are usually sent to work the factories. I heard life is bad there," Dion said with a whisper.





A Good Servant Ch. 04



"It's hard out there, but you are also free," Cory said with melancholy in his bright blue eyes. "Freer than here."

"You were taken from there? I was raised here, within the city limits," Dion said with unbound curiosity.

"Yes, I was. And I wanted to remain there. Apparently, I was too good looking for hard labor. Isn't that a bummer?" he added, as if he was talking to himself. "I ... loved someone there," he said hesitantly, suddenly feeling the need to confess, to let another human being know about his thoughts, his feelings, his life before becoming an utility and nothing more. 

"For real?" Dion was the one to squeeze his arm now, a bit excited. "How was he?"

"He was ..." Cory realized he was having a hard time remembering his lover's face. "He was a bit older. But he was good to me. A hard worker. Not as beautiful as any of the people around here. But he was kind, and ..." his words died on his lips, seeing the doors opening and Antoine and the others walking in.

Some of the slaves looked a bit shaken. There were marks on their skin that hadn't been there before. Of them all, the long haired brunet was marching in, as victorious.

Dion's hand squeezed at Cory's arm tighter, but the blond was prepared. He watched with feigned indifference, as Antoine slumped on one of the sofas, and his eyes traveled the beautiful muscular body now glistening with sweat and rested on the large organ which, even soft, looked impressive. He could tell the other slaves had lost and had to service the beast.

Servants were slaves to the slaves, Cory mused, thinking of Dion's words. So, he was expected to be a whore. That was not as heavy a task as others thought. After all, when his master and Lucas had spoken about the possibility to have him service an entire stable, the thought had appealed to him. 

Sex was power. But power had to be yielded by a skilled individual, to reach its potential. Cory was not sure of all its intricacies, but he knew he was a fast learner. He rose, touching Dion's shoulder briefly, and headed straight for Antoine who was watching him with burning eyes.

He sat casually on the arm of the sofa and leaned in to whisper in Antoine's ear. "I heard you wanted me."

Blues eyes turned to watch him with growing interest. Cory touched the man's right shoulder and started caressing the long sinewy arm. "Was it a good night for you so far?"

"It's only getting better," the brunet grinned and suddenly grabbed Cory to have him sit in his lap. "Tell me," he whispered, hardly refraining a tremble in his body, "has Xavier fucked you?"

Cory smiled and caressed the slave's cheek. "Yes, he has."

The small nervous flutter in the man's eyelashes told him Cory it was the answer he was expecting. A cruel smile stretched on the brunet's lips, as he spoke to the entire room.

"Who wants to empty his balls in lord Xavier's new fuck toy?"

Cory remained relaxed in Antoine's arms, as he could hear the cheers booming from every slave's chest in the room. That earned him a surprised look from the brunet. 

He slowly closed in the distance between their lips and brushed over Antoine's mouth. "And I thought you only wanted me for yourself. What a shame," he feigned regret. 

Antoine's arms gripped him tightly. A meaningful look was exchanged between them. Cory disentangled himself from the man's embrace and rose to face the naked slaves who were drawing closer, making a partial circle around him and Antoine. 

One grabbed him and pulled at his uniform, but he carefully freed his arm from his hands. 

"There is no need to do that," he said somewhat derisively. With slow moves, he started to unbutton his shirt. He let it slide on slender shoulders, and looked back at Antoine who was staring at him with an indecipherable expression on his face. His eyes became sultry, as he continued to undress, looking at no one else but the brunet.

Completely naked, he knelt, inviting the slaves to come closer. Apparently, his actions had taken all aback, and they were now a bit nervous. He grabbed a cock near to him in his hand and engulfed it in one go in his mouth. His master had said he needed the practice; so he was doing nothing else but better his skills as a servant.

Soon enough, there were cocks of different shapes and sizes battling for an entrance to his mouth. He caressed hairless sacks as he moved to taste each and every one, with his eyes half mast. Antoine's hot gaze was drilling his back. He knew it was there and he could bet his life he knew what the slave was thinking. 

Strong arms lifted him from the floor, making one cock slide effortlessly from his mouth. He did not need to turn his head to know. As he was placed on the sofa, and impatient fingers pushed inside him, lubricated with nothing but saliva, he exhaled, and closed his eyes.

"You could have said earlier you wanted me, too," he heard the accusatory whisper in his ear, as a large cock was pushed inside him, without too much preparation. "Now I have to let these losers have you, for fuck's safe."

Antoine sounded angry; Cory loved it. Emotions were good; if he was the only one capable to keep a clear head, while enjoying having his backside hammered by the best cocks in all Drena, he was the winner, and no one else. And Xavier and Lucas were no different from the horny slaves, lining up behind him to have a go at him. To know that was a relief; for a little while, he thought his master to be different. But in this world, it looked as if everyone was thinking with his cock.

That gave him enough to work with. With a small frustrated grunt, Antoine spent himself inside the servant's body and then a sharp sting burned his right butt cheek, as the slave slapped him.

"He's a natural bottom, guys. Enjoy him now, 'cause after this, his ass is mine."

Cory smiled inwardly. Having another cock pushed inside him, after being made slick by Antoine's cum, was easier. He could focus on the pleasure alone, as he grabbed his own cock and started pumping it. At least Dion would deal with a satiated, less of a prick, slave tonight.

He sensed someone moving in front of him, as the slaves continued to hammer him one after another.

He languidly opened his eyes, to see Antoine crouched in front of him and looking at him with reproach in his big beautiful eyes.

"Are you enjoying this?" the brunet spat.

"I am born to serve," he whispered between moans, as his prostate was brushed over, making him see stars.

"This is not what I'm asking," Antoine added.

"I told you. I would have rather had you and you alone," Cory whispered back, as he came and his eyes became unfocused.

"Why?" the brunet seemed oblivious to Cory's manifestations of pleasure as he was thoroughly fucked.

"Because you are the most beautiful man I've ever seen," Cory lied, as his mind traveled for a brief second to a pair of hypnotic green eyes.

"Really?" Antoine grinned.

Oh, boy, not the smartest tool in the shed, are you? Cory thought, as he slowly nodded and arched his back to receive the next cock owner directly into his well used ass. 

"More beautiful than your master?"

There were many reasons to understand why vanity was considered a deadly sin by the ancients. Cory slowly opened his eyes to look into Antoine's deep blues. 

"Don't let anyone know I told you that," he breathed out, as he wiggled his ass to enhance his pleasure. 

Antoine's smile was brighter than the sun. The brunet jumped to his feet.

"Party's over!" he yelled, and sounds of protest were the immediate reply.

"But we haven't gotten to fuck him yet," one slave protested.

"I am the only one that gets to fuck him from now on," Antoine spoke. "Be thankful I let any of you touch him."

He brutally pulled Cory up and dragged him in his arms. "If anyone touches what's mine ..." he let the threat float in the still air of the room.

Disgruntled slaves turned their backs to now search for the other servants, to vent off their steam. For a brief second, Cory's eyes crossed with Dion's. He winked at the other, and the redhead's look of amazement was priceless. 

"We don't have much time left," Antoine grabbed Cory's head to kiss him.

The blond averted his lips. "They had their cocks in my mouth," he explained, as Antoine's embrace became impossible tight. "I suppose you don't want to taste them all," he added with an innocent look, as he stared into the slave's eyes. 

With a low growl, Antoine pressed his head against his chest. "Next time I see you, Cory, I want you all to myself."

***

In the meantime, the masters were starting to leave. As Cory headed for the main hallway, to join the others, he suddenly crossed paths with the last man he wanted to see that night.

"Are you alright, Cory?" Lucas gestured to caress his head, but Cory quickly bowed to avert the touch.

"A master should not be concerned with a servant's well being. It's against the protocol," he said quickly and hurried to move along.

The man's strong grip stopped him. "A master does what he pleases, servant," Lucas's voice became low and dangerous. 

Cory suddenly felt his arm becoming free. He raised his eyes to see his one true master. He bowed and Xavier commented.

"Everyone has left. Would you care to stay a while longer, Lucas?" his master asked.

"No. I should get going, too," Lucas's voice sounded annoyed. 

***

"Cory," his master caressed his hair, as they both sat on the master bed. "How many cocks did you have in your ass tonight?"

There was no real need for a confirmation, but Cory was glad to have it. Xavier had known what was going to happen.

"I didn't know I had to count," he said innocently, and Xavier laughed. 

"You're such a good servant, Cory, such as good servant. Do you still have any energy left in you to serve your master, then?"

"Of course, master. I always do," he raised his blue eyes to look at Xavier. 

Grey eyes searched his face for the slightest sign of rebellion. Not finding one, the man's beautiful features relaxed. 

"You're good at following orders, Cory. It's all you need to do. Don't ever forget who your master is, and the world will be yours."

He had a mind of asking what that meant, but as Xavier moved against his body, letting his intentions know, he let the world fade away.



A Good Servant Ch. 05



Sampling the merchandise was not a habit for Vachiari. The merchant was used to seeing pretty males and females walking around naked, but this time, he felt more tempted than any other time. 

He touched the chained male, asking his assistants to turn him, while he was feeling up the muscled body, the chiseled chest, and the round mounds, where his hands remained a bit more than he'd first intended. He eventually pushed them apart, curious to see if the specimen had been used. The tight puckered hole showed no signs of assault, and Vachiari could count on his experience to safely say that the captured male still had a virgin ass.

Not for long, the middle aged man mused and stopped his ministrations. The slave was now writhing against his restraints, and the muffled sounds that could be heard, despite the mouth gag, were a clear indication that the young man was not happy with being handled. 

Vachiari took a step back, and asked his assistants to turn the slave so he could take a good look at his front, too. The longish, raven strands, the deep, charcoal like eyes, and dark skin made him exotic. Slaves born and raised to please had their benefits, but a beautiful specimen like this one could only be found outside of Drena, in the distant tribal camps located far inside the mainland. And that was where he had been captured, while attacking a caravan.

The merchant had little respect for the tribes living far from the coast cities. They were just uncivilized apes, but, from time to time, such beauties would emerge, and he knew how to recognize value when he saw it. Staring at the chained male some more, he thought about how the master purchasing the youngster would have a tough time teaching this one not to bite. Still, his exquisite beauty obviously made any obstacle pale in comparison.

It was not just the young man's beauty that was making him stand out. There was something about him, he exuded sex, like he was made for it. His rebellious attitude was just making things even more exciting. Vachiari shook his head. No matter how much he felt the need to use the exquisite body, he was a man of numbers. Profit, important profit, could be made with him, especially if left untouched.

He signaled the men to take the slave away. He had some phone calls to make.

***

It was unusual for Xavier to receive such a call.

"Vachiari, as much as I value your business," he said in a tone that suggested the exact opposite, "I don't see why I should move just to see this specimen you are talking about."

He listened, completely bored, to the merchant's well crafted praise. "Alright," he eventually said with an exasperated sigh. "I suppose I could resell him for a profit, if he is as beautiful as you say. Please do arrange the sighting at my home. I have no intention to mingle with commoners at the slave market. A cage? Is he dangerous? Are you trying to assassinate me?"

He smiled thinly while taking his time to hear the man's long string of apologies. Only a seasoned money handler like Vachiari could put together so many words to say a simple thing. 

He put the phone down, and called for Cory. A new task was to be added to the servant's chores.

***

Cory looked fearfully at the strong irons bars keeping the young male caged inside, and the ones outside out of harm's way. Xavier was walking around the cage, seemingly trying to see the slave from all angles. The servant knew he was not supposed to stare, but it looked as if he was drawn in, compelled to look at the dangerous man inside.

To say the slave was beautiful would have been an understatement. He was dark, much darker than anyone Cory knew, although Lucas's black hair touched his thoughts briefly. His skin was almost shining and the way he moved reminded the servant of the nature documentaries he sometimes watched featuring wild beasts observed in their natural habitat. Only the one inside the cage was not a beast, but human, and this was far from the places he used to roam. 

The slave stood stubbornly with his back to the audience, and both Cory's and his master's eyes traveled along the gracious back, on the round buttocks and lean, long legs. This was no ordinary slave. His muscles had not been trained by special devices requiring mindless repetitions until the desired form was achieved. He was a creature of the wild, shaped by hardship. He looked a bit underfed, too, Cory thought. He wanted to ask his master if they could give the slave something to eat. When he'd been a child, he'd known hunger. He could not stand the sight of someone going through that. 

Xavier hummed appreciatively. He took a long cane and pushed it through the bars to touch the slave. Apparently his sudden move finally made the other turn, and Cory's mouth formed a perfect silent 'O'. The long dark hair moved against the shoulders as if it was made of silk. For someone born and raised in the wild, that seemed impossible. He doubted the slave took time to brush or wash his hair. Or maybe he'd just been pampered to be presented to his new master.

The man's face was carved in dark marble. The hard planes of his face made him harsh and masculine, but the delicate nose and almond shaped eyes could put him against the most beautiful odalisque in the empire. His mouth was sensual, with full lips, and Cory could not stop thinking how would they feel if the slave was to be kissed.

The cane hissed through the air, hitting the slave's legs.

"Kneel," Xavier boomed, making Cory jump.

His master had never hit him. Threatened, yes, asserted dominance, yes. But he was not violent like this. He stared in stupefaction at his master's eyes, shining with something new and frightful, as he continued to hit the slave, as much as the bars and the distance allowed, trying to make the male inside yield. But the slave stood still, only a small flinch in the muscles of his face being a sign that he was registering each and every hit.

Without thinking, he grabbed his master's arm, eyes wide in fear as Xavier turned to look at him, seemingly too surprised with Cory's actions to do something right away.

"Please, master, I don't think he understands," he spoke softly, caressing Xavier's tense arm in apology.

"Of course, he doesn't know the language. But this," the lord of the house gestured towards the cane, "he can understand. He is nothing but an animal, and has to be trained."

Xavier made a gesture to shake Cory off his arm, but the servant didn't back down. "He may be uncivilized, but he doesn't look stupid. I think there are other ways."

"Then why don't you show him, Cory?" his master whispered menacingly.

Cory turned towards the cage and looked the slave in the eyes, begging without words. He made a gesture pointing at Xavier, then he slowly knelt in front of his master. After that, he gestured at the slave. The charcoal eyes watched him with interest. A small smile started to spread on his face. He closed his fist and slammed it on his chest in a proud gesture. 

Cory felt his insides torn. The slave understood alright. But what he meant, without words, was that he was a free man.

Xavier smiled thinly. "See where your good intentions lead, Cory? The animal thinks he has a say, although he is locked in a cage. Rest assured, I will make him yield."

Cory kept his head down. "Why, master?"

"Why what?" the ruler asked annoyed.

"Why take a slave now? He is obviously not good for this, either. Why not release him?"

The servant had no idea how he dared challenged his own master like that. But seeing that beautiful youngster, a free man, locked in a cage, was making scream on the inside.

"You are quite chatty all of a sudden, Cory. What has gotten into you today?"

"He may be dangerous. He may hurt you," Cory continued. "Why keep someone so dangerous in your own home?"

"I doubt he could hurt me, Cory. As you can see, he is caged. There is no possibility for him to do anything. He doesn't have a weapon and he is completely naked. And he could be no match for me."

You cannot know that, Cory thought, keeping his head down.

"Now you just ruined the mood," Xavier threw the cane on the sofa, obviously dissatisfied. "Let's watch the specimen and observe him now, since you are so sure you know everything about him."

***

Xavier sent Cory to the kitchen to bring some food and sat on the sofa.

In his cage, the slave was watching him almost without blinking. Xavier could tell he was tense and ready to pounce. He chuckled and watched him, too. His eyes rested on the man's organ. Quite endowed, too, he thought, and suddenly felt the need to adjust his position.

The beast inside the cage was making him hard with just his mere presence. Xavier wondered how that supple skin would feel under his fingers. For once, Vachiari hadn't lied. This was a beautiful male, barely over 20, untouched, as the merchant vouched, although he had his doubts. He wanted to see for himself.

He rose and touched the iron bars slowly. There was enough room for the slave to draw away from his master's touch, but he didn't move when Xavier extended his right arm through the bars.

The ruler caressed slowly the taut abdomen, going lower. The slave's breathe became more labored, when Xavier grabbed his cock and pushed the skin back to play with the sensitive head. Apparently, the beast didn't mind being touched. 

***

Cory felt his jaw slacking seeing the scene in front of his eyes. His master, one of the most powerful men of Drena, was slowly stimulating the slave who stood still, his eyes at half mast, an expression of unhidden bliss on his face. 

Xavier turned towards Cory. "See, Cory, maybe I know other methods, too."

The servant placed the tray filled with goodies on the small coffee table and stood there, not knowing what to do. 

"As much as this creature excites me, I would not get my mouth dirty. So, Cory, come here," his master gestured for him to approach. "On your knees," he whispered, gently this time, and Cory obeyed. "What do you say, Cory? Would you like a taste of this?"

Cory nodded slowly, fascinated with the dark cock rubbed steadily by Xavier's elegant fingers. His master pulled the slave closer to the bars, to allow Cory easier access.

The servant didn't need any more encouragement. His smaller hand closed over his master's, taking over. As Xavier let go, he licked slowly the engorged head, reveling in the slave's needy whimper.

"I think he likes it, Cory," his master said satisfied. "Take care of me, as well."

He stopped his licking to take his master's cock out and suckled at it greedily. The slave seemed to mind being neglected like that, as his hand pulled a bit clumsily at Cory's hair, to draw his attention.

Cory obliged right away, and, unconsciously, made the two move closer to one another. Soon, he was switching from his master's long, thinner member to the dark meaty one, taking one, than the other, deep in his throat, and using his hands to increase stimulation. 

He saw Xavier sneaking a hand inside the cage again to grab the slave's buttocks. It seemed that the sudden move triggered something in the young male, as Cory felt right away the tang taste of ejaculate on his tongue. He swallowed quickly and turned to enjoy his master's seed, too. 

But Xavier took his own cock from his servant's hand and whispered: "I think I want to mark my slave a little, Cory. Come on up and help me keep him steady."

He stood up and grabbed the slave's naked ass, mirroring his master's gesture from earlier. The slave's skin was supple and silky everywhere. Xavier grabbed the youngster's nape to draw him into a kiss, and started to ejaculate, through the bars, over the man's taut abdomen.

The slave fought a bit against the kiss, but he slowly relaxed, as Xavier slowly spread his seed over the dark skin with his fingers.

"Cory," Xavier spoke, "you are allowed to touch him only when I ask it. Do not do anything other than what is necessary to keep him fed and well taken care of. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," he nodded and Xavier rewarded him with a short kiss.

The slave blinked, a bit confused. Maybe he could not understand the relationship between master and servant. Or maybe he could not understand his own role just yet. 

***

It felt strange to serve Lord Lucas when Xavier was not at home. He could not take any threats lightly, especially when coming from his master. But he could not quench the longing he felt each time he saw Xavier's beautiful friend.

"Cory, why are you so cold towards me?" Lucas asked. 

The man truly loved asking direct questions.

"Please cut the crap about protocol," the ruler added.

Cory's eyes grew wide. Apparently, Lucas did not care about protocol indeed. He had yet to hear such words from his master's mouth. 

"I ..." he stuttered. "My master ..."

Lucas shook his head. "I suppose there is no more need for words, then. But, he is not here. So do not fear. Come a bit closer. It has been a while since I looked at your lovely face."

Getting closer was truly not an option. He felt his knees turning to butter when Lucas was around, and even from afar he could not stop daydreaming about him. 

"Please, forgive me, if I cannot follow through with your request, master," he bowed, to hide his reddened cheeks.

"You should use the honorific sparingly with me, Cory. Unless you really want me to consider myself your master and whisk you away from here."

The blond looked up a bit, surprised, once more, with Lucas's direct manner of speaking his mind. 

"What do you fear?"

"Myself," Cory answered and this time, he looked straight at Lucas.

"Oh," the man lay back on the sofa. "Now that is an interesting conundrum ... Why should you fear your own self?"

"Why do you want me, Lord Lucas?" Cory blurted out. "I am nothing but a servant, worse than a slave. I am everyone's toy and ..."

"Hush," a strong hand caressed his head. "I know. But would you not believe me, at least one tiny bit, when I tell you that I would be hard pressed to name one person who's caught my eye in a very long time?"

"I am nothing special," he continued, keeping his head down. 

"Even the fact that you say that makes you special. In a world full of arrogant pricks, from masters to the most insignificant slaves, and even some servants, you see yourself like this. Xavier has always brought some new toys home, and despite their beauty, I've never found someone to my liking. It's not the case with you. Join me on the sofa?"

"I don't think I should," Cory whispered.

"Then just stay where it's comfortable for you. I want to talk a little with you."

Cory took a large pillow and placed it on the floor, sitting gracefully on it, trying hard to ignore the green eyes following his every move. Lucas continued.

"I am a man of numbers, of cold hard facts. Emotions have always befuddled me, so I've preferred to push them away. But, ever since I met you, and Xavier allowed me to taste you, I cannot seem to be my own self. Even when I am running an experiment and my head should be focused, your face appears before my eyes like you are there, with me. You do realize you could compromise some very delicate data?" Lucas laughed softly.

Cory felt his mind in turmoil. No one had ever spoken to him like that. Not even his lover from before being sent to the Institution. He sat up brusquely. 

"I am no worthy of your interest, Lord Lucas," he said, his voice shaking. "I am nothing but a whore."

"Because you are forced to copulate with anyone your master whishes?" Lucas rose and grabbed Cory's arm, shaking him gently, as if he was trying to make him see.

"No, because I enjoy it," the servant blurted out, and Lucas let him go, in surprise. "Please forgive this lowly servant," he hurriedly added and almost ran out of the room, leaving the other to stare after him, in disbelief.

***

"You are truly making my young servant lose his head," Xavier commented, while entering the room, as he'd just seen Cory pushing angrily against the kitchen doors without noticing his master coming home.

"No, he's making me lose mine," Lucas murmured. "Please, Xavier, name your price. I cannot take him out of my mind."

"Good," Xavier said sharply.

"How can you be this cruel with your best friend?" the brunet complained. 

"It serves to taste your own medicine, doesn't it, Lucas?" Xavier sat next to his friend and placed a small kiss on his cheek. "Plus, why would you want a hole as well used as his? You know I hold nothing back. And I let anyone who wants him have him."

"Do you think debasing him will make me think less of him?"

"He's just a nymphomaniac. Don't you think it would hurt your research, having to deal with his constant need for sex?"

"It seems to me you are forgetting something, Xavier. I am qualified to appreciate Cory's appetite as healthy."

"You were the one using the term first. About his nymphomaniac tendencies?"

"Well, I didn't know him then. It was a simple statement based on information provided by you."

"Forget about him, Lucas. He enjoys enough attention from slaves. Plus, he has his place in my bed. Don't just go for a prostitute like him."

"I believe you are overestimating how many are fucking him. Or do you suppose he is gangbanged at every party you attend?"

"Why not? He's beautiful enough to make those overly sexualized creatures lose their heads."

Lucas laughed. "You are wrong, Xavier, and that proves how little you really care. Rumor has it that Lord Arnaud's prized slave, Antoine, has the hots for him. He put the word out that no one should touch Cory, or else, he would strangle them to death. See? You throw him to the wolves, and he becomes alpha's favorite ..."

Xavier looked really surprised. "I should have a talk with Arnaud."

"And tell him what? That he should command Antoine to stay away from Cory? And let the others fuck him? You know how much Arnaud is infatuated with that bawdy slave. People even say that it's like he is running the household, that much power he has over his master."

Xavier was obviously displeased.

"Cory stands out. It cannot be helped, even if he tries to keep his head down to the ground. Stop torturing him. Stop torturing me. Do you want me? Is that it? Then you can have me. But give him to me," Lucas pressed.

Xavier stared at Lucas in disbelief. "You are serious," he said, frowning. "You are willing to become my lover, just so you can have that in your bed?"

"Not your lover," Lucas spat. "I would let you top me, if you let me have him."

"Once?"

"Preferably yes," Lucas grimaced, in obvious displeasure over the subject.

Xavier laughed. "It's obvious why you didn't make it in politics, Lucas. Your negotiating skills are appalling. No deal," he added shortly.

"What?" Lucas looked surprised. "I should have known it's just a game for you. You've never really wanted me, then?"

"Oh, no, I've always did. I still do. But your terms are unacceptable. I can offer something else, though. A more profitable arrangement ... for me, at least. If your desire for Cory is so great, then you should pay the right price. One night with me equals one night of having him in your bed. And don't expect lenience. I will be ruthless."

"As many times I want?" Lucas seemed to ponder, a dark look on his face.

"As many times as your body can handle," Xavier added with a small mischievous smile.

***

Cory took the food tray to take it to the slave. The exotic beauty locked in the cage had seemed pretty tame over the few days he'd been there, making his job easy.

He placed the tray on the table and called softly for the male.

"Hey, I brought you some tasty treats."

The man moved closer and Cory brought a plate, keeping it up so the other could help himself with the neatly arranged appetizers. 




A Good Servant Ch. 05



"You really like these ones, don't you?" the servant said affectionately. He knew the slave could not understand a thing, but he liked talking to him nonetheless.

The slave was looking at him, as he ate, like he was expecting Cory to take the plate away at any time. 

"Don't worry, there is plenty," Cory tried to alleviate the slave's fears. 

He turned a bit to look what he should bring next. Strong arms suddenly grabbed him, and the plate fell from his hands. He tried to scream, but his mouth was covered with one hand, while the other arm was plastering his back against the iron bars. He was held in such a fierce grip that he could not move at all, even his feet being off the ground. The man seemed much stronger than he looked.

A silky whisper caressed his ear: "Now tell me, fuck toy, how the hell can I open this cage? I'll let your mouth free, but if you scream, I will break your neck in an instant."



A Good Servant Ch. 06



Cory stood still, to let his assailant know he had no intention to fight. Slowly, the hand on his mouth moved away.

"I cannot open the cage," he whispered, trying to rein in his trembling. "Master has the key. And even if you could get away, how far do you think you can get? Without any clothes, sticking out like that? You won't make it too far. Master is home, by the way."

The slave seemed to ponder, his arms going a bit slack. "I guess there's more to you than just your looks. So, now should I just let you go and alert your master?" 

Soft lips caressed Cory's ears. He'd seen much better and more sophisticated attempts at manipulating him. His heart was beating wildly, but for once, he wanted to do what his own brain dictated. 

"No, I won't."

"Really?" the lips continued touching his ear. "I can make it worth your while."

"I am ... really not interested in that. But I hate seeing a free man like you locked in a cage. Let me down and we could talk."

The slave released him, then watched Cory as the servant was picking up the spilled food. 

"Who are you?" Cory asked.

"My name?"

"That would be a start."

"I am Ayn."

"There are few free men in Drena. Are you from another city?"

"No, I am ... from far away."

"How did you become a slave?"

"They caught me. I'm robbing their transports for years, so I guess it's only natural to pay what's due," Ayn shook his head, while laughing, mostly to himself.

"What are you going to do?"

"Well, since you're not going to rat me out, I think I'll stick around here for a while."

"If you earn master's trust, he will let you out of the cage."

"You're sure? He seems to be a class A pervert to me. I think he likes it that I'm trapped like this. It makes him feel almighty and shit. The problem is that staying locked up makes a bit crazy. I was going to wait a bit more and be on my best behavior." 

"I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, just let master do what he wants. I will try to convince him that it's not good for your health to keep you like this."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Don't you see?" Cory smiled. "I am nothing but a servant. But by helping you, I can do something different from what I usually do. Something that may be just a bit more meaningful than everything else I do in my position."

"Oh, ok. I guess," the youth shrugged. 

The door opened and both fell silent. With a frown, Xavier noticed the spilled food. 

"What happened?"

"I stumbled and trashed the tray. I am so sorry, master," Cory bowed. "I was just cleaning up."

"Alright. Don't fret. How's our guest of honor doing?" Xavier got closer to the cage and touched the bars, as he looked at the beautiful slave locked inside, who was watching him with apprehension. 

"I think he could use some time outside the cage," Cory said simply. "He needs a thorough bathing, and also to move around for a bit. He is going to lose muscle mass, if kept like this for too long."

Cory was perfectly calm as he said all that. Xavier seemed to think it over for a while, but then, for a moment that stretched to eternity, in Cory's mind, he spoke.

"Alright. Shackle him. Then let's take a bath together."

A short meaningful look was exchanged between Cory and Ayn.

~A Good Servant~

With his hands bound together in the front, the slave could not do much. Cory helped him get inside the bathtub, while he was completely naked himself. Xavier watched them with burning eyes.

"What's your educated guess, Cory, now that you have seen plenty of slaves used for pleasure: has this one been used before?"

"I don't think so, master. He is still uncomfortable with being touched."

"Good," Xavier smiled, and dropped the dark silk robe he was wearing to descend in the in-ground bathtub. 

Cory made Ayn sit, and started pouring water over his beautiful black hair. The brunet laughed as water got into his eyes. He shook his head, splashing water everywhere. Xavier laid back, relaxed, and watched his servant going about his business. Above the water, the nice curve of Cory's ass made his organ stir. His arrangement with Lucas had yet to be detailed, and he was not a man of postponed pleasures. In front of him, two gorgeous young bodies, one golden, another dark, were inviting him to take over and prove himself as master.

Cory was manipulating the slave, making sure to wash him everywhere. Ayn had to get up, to allow Cory to wash his lower part of the body. When hands filled with soap suds rubbed against his buttocks, he jolted. Xavier smiled, amused. As the servant knelt in the water to wash the dark youth's front, he gasped.

Cory stopped to look at his master. "Is there anything wrong, master?" he asked dutifully.

"No, not at all. Just finish your job."

"All done," Cory got up, waiting for orders. 

"Kiss him," Xavier ordered curtly. 

Almond shaped eyes flinched for a split of a second. The master of the house looked at the young slave, a bit pensive. 

Cory grabbed gently Ayn's neck and clamped their mouths together. With his hands bound, the slave could not do much, but whimper woefully, as his lips were slowly kissed, with infinite tenderness. 

Xavier got up and grabbed both young men's asses with his strong hands. His erection was standing up proudly and he pushed it between the slender bodies, enjoying the warmth and the friction. Being taller than both, his weapon of choice was practically getting a full length massage from the boys' taut belly muscles.

Never a man to wait being served, he moved his right hands from Cory's buttocks to the servant's golden hair. He used his leverage to have the blond move his head, and let his master ravage his mouth.

Xavier's left hand grabbed a fistful of dark hair, mirroring its sibling's wanderings. The brunet, unlike Cory, seemed caught unawares, as the master abandoned the servant's pliant lips, to attack less responsive ones.

Cory was slowly caressing Ayn's back, to give him assurance. He knew Xavier could be a good lover, but he could feel how tense the slave was. He watched as the master was kissing Ayn with brute force. There was a war of dominance there Xavier hadn't had to fight when taking Cory. But a slave made from a free man was a totally different matter. 

"Show him," Xavier demanded, without even taking his eyes off his prize, as he interrupted the kiss.

Ayn was breathing heavily, his eyes at half must. He was sensitive alright, Xavier mused. Trained well, he could easily become a wonderful lover. 

"What, master?" Cory asked, licking his lips unconsciously. 

"How to suck my cock properly. I think there is no better teacher than you."

Ayn was pushed to his knees, while Cory knelt on his own accord. He touched his master's engorged organ and pushed the skin downwards to give the head an experimental lick. He gently guided the majestic cock towards Ayn. The brunet was staring at him, his eyes wide. He blinked and pursed his lips, then he grabbed the brunet's neck to get him closer. He didn't like it, either, to force the brunet like that, but it meant more time outside the cage, and making his master more lenient towards the slave's condition.

Reluctantly, the slave mimicked Cory's move and licked the head a little. He withdrew with a small grimace, but Cory caught him and kissed him. He guided their entwined mouths towards the master's cock. Ayn seemed more accepting of taking Xavier's cock in his mouth, as Cory coaxed him. 

Now Xavier could feel it, the glorious feeling of having two young mouths, one skillful, with perfect training, one inexperienced, reluctant, but more and more willing. Tongues and lips were now playing along his shaft, but his need was growing stronger and he wanted nothing more but to stick his hardness in something hot and wet, applying just the right amount of pressure. 

"Let him do it," he ordered shortly, and Cory hesitantly withdrew. 

Xavier grabbed the dark head and pushed through silky lips, only to be met with resistance. The young man writhed, and tried to push against the invasion, but his bound hands didn't allow him too much freedom to move and fight the assault on his mouth. 

The master could not care less now what the slave was feeling or thinking. Cory watched, biting his lips, as Ayn tried to fight back, to no avail. Soon enough, his nape was against the edge of the bathtub, and his mouth was forced to open, his throat made to accommodate the large cock. 

Without thinking much, he rose and embraced his master from behind. His hands traveled to the base of the man's cock to pull back. 

"What are you ...?" Xavier whispered angrily, and Cory sank his teeth in his master's shoulder, licking the bite and sucking at it right away.

"Take me, master, please," he begged in a sultry voice. "I cannot ... anymore ..."

"Cory, you slut," his master chided him, but he let go of his prey, who immediately started to gasp for air and cough.

Xavier's eyes were burning darkly. Cory felt fear nestling in the pit of his stomach. The servant was turned roughly, pushed with his buttocks up, his chest resting against the edge. Cory took a deep breath. He knew that was going to hurt and voiced his pain, as Xavier impaled him without caring for any kind of lubrication. 

"Why are you crying, Cory?" his master asked, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted it, didn't you?"

"Yes, master, don't stop," Cory breathed out, wiggling his ass and adjusting, as fast as he could, to the uninvited invasion. 

"I have no intention to," Xavier slammed against the lithe body, again and again, like possessed.

There were far too many temptations around him, Xavier had a distant afterthought, as he slumped on Cory's body, as the fading ebbs of his orgasm were leaving his body. He would have normally let Cory at least adjust a little, but this time, his body impaling the other's felt so right and so fulfilling that he just couldn't stop. Wouldn't, he thought, and kissed a damp smooth cheek in apology. 

"Don't tempt me like this ever again, Cory. Don't bite me if you don't want to see my beast," he whispered against the servant's ear. 

Next to them, Ayn was looking at Xavier with pure hatred in his dark eyes. He was lucky Xavier was too busy kissing his servant.

~A Good Servant~

"There," Antoine exhaled sharply as Dion was massaging his back. 

It felt amazing to have the familiar hands working his body after a workout. 

"When is the next party on?" he asked, enjoying his neck being skillfully massaged. Dion's hands were wonderful.

"I believe there is still a week until then. The masters seem to be busy with something important, so they don't have time to play."

"What a bummer," Antoine stretched and yawned. "I haven't seen Cory in a while. What do you know of him?"

"His master took a slave, so Cory has his hands full now," Dion said simply, while using a towel to get rid of the massage oil on his hands.

"Xavier took a slave?!" Antoine's good mood dissipated in an instant, his sudden move making Dion cringe. "Is he fucking my Cory?"

"Highly unlikely," Dion said with a small sigh. There was going to be a cold day in hell when a slave more spoiled than Antoine was going to be born. "From what I've heard, there is no ordinary slave lord Xavier ordered to be installed in his penthouse."

"What does Cory say?" Antoine straightened up, his eyes shining at the prospect of hearing some juicy gossip.

"The slave is kept in a cage ..."

"Why? Is he a wild animal?"

"He was captured from the wild, it seems. He doesn't speak the language, but he is very beautiful."

Antoine's blue eyes darkened with jealousy. "Did Cory say he was beautiful? Did he use this exact work to describe him?" he grabbed Dion's arm.

It was funny to pull Antoine's chain once in a while, but Dion knew he was going to be the one paying for the slave's frustration.

"Actually, I think he said 'exotic'."

"Does Cory like him?"

If he hadn't known what a bastard Antoine could be, Dion would have almost pitied him. The poor guy was really jealous.

"He just means more work for Cory. I don't think so," Dion said pensively. "Plus, his master wants to train the slave himself and he is very adamant about no one touching his slave without permission. What? Do you think Cory's that easy to fall for another slave so quickly?" he teased, smiling.

Rough hands were suddenly in his red mane, as Antoine got dangerously close. "Do you mean he fell for me?" he whispered against Dion's lips, making the servant tremble slightly.

"You should know better," Dion whispered back, trying hard to quench the familiar fear in his gut. Antoine could be cruel when angered.

"I know, of course I know," Antoine said haughtily. "I'm so horny right now. I want Cory so badly," he climbed on top of Dion, pushing the servant back on the bed and forcing his legs open wide.

"Let me suck you off," Dion offered, hating how Antoine was ready to claim him, again. He did not enjoy sex, and he doubted he ever could. There was nothing but dominance on Antoine's part and humiliation on his each time it happened.

"No," Antoine refused like a petulant child. "Your ass, or nothing. And get ready fast, or I will tell master you burned the food today."

"I didn't ..." Dion tried to protest feebly.

"You sure?" Antoine said menacingly.

Dion hurried to push down his pants. He was walking a thin line with his master lately, Antoine being the main cause. He was not ready to be sent down to the factories to work. Cory said it was not so bad, but he'd been born inside the city gates and he knew no other life. 

As Antoine pushed inside, uncaring, he bit his lips hard, fighting the tears streaming down his cheeks. At least, this time, Antoine seemed to be in a hurry to finish, without playing cruel games. He just slammed inside Dion's lithe body, over and over again, until his breathe became ragged and he voiced his climax with a howl. 

He rose, feeling dirty like usual. 

"Where do you think you're going?" Antoine grabbed him and forced him back on the bed. 

"I need to wash," he said curtly. "Master has to be home soon."

"No, you won't wash. Keep my jizz inside. Know it's there," Antoine said, his beautiful face twisted by a nasty smile. "Know who owns you, bitch."

Dion's lips trembled. He'd been too quick to think Antoine would finish with him so easily. 

"Please, Antoine," he begged, his eyes shiny with tears. "Master gets mad if I do not look perfect. He'll know you and I ..."

"So? Let him know. That keeps him on his toes. This is the difference between you and me, Dion. I don't let anyone make a bitch out of me."

~A Good Servant~

Ayn was resting his head against the cold bars of his cage, with a bleak look on his face. He jolted when Cory walked in.

"He's going to do this until he's satisfied, isn't he?" he murmured, and Cory nodded.

"He wants to give you a name," the servant spoke, looking sideways.

"Like hell he does," Ayn spat.

"A name is nothing but a word," Cory tried to appease the slave. 

"I refuse," the slave uttered through clenched teeth.

Cory sighed. "Look, I know it's hard."

"No, you don't. He raped you in front of me and you got up from there like nothing happened."

Cory cringed. "It's not like I ..."

"No, it's admirable, I think. You have a strength inside you, Cory, which I don't. I won't let him have his way with me. He'll have to kill me to do that."

"Shut up," Cory's voice became sharp. "You know nothing. Do you think he'll care if you die? He may get frustrated over it, but otherwise you'll be nothing but a stupid slave who's never really cared about freeing himself. I will teach you how to enjoy it. Don't waste your life for a fuck!"

Ayn stared at Cory in disbelief. Cory seemed surprised with his own harsh words, too. Breathing a bit faster, he continued. 

"We'll pretend I'm teaching you the language. I'll let him know your name. I will tell him anything needed so that he goes easy on you, but you will have to do your part. Once you are out of the cage for good, we can start planning your escape. It won't be easy and there will be danger ahead. But I won't let you ..."

For some reason, his mouth became dry. Ayn looked at him in awe. 

"You really are something, Cory," he said with something akin to affection in his voice. "I've never let anyone, you know ... I've never depended on someone else. But with you, I feel like I can trust you with my life."

~A Good Servant~

Cory was waiting for his master's arrival, sitting quietly in the large living room. He had to play his part convincingly. Xavier was no stupid man.

When his master entered the house, he hurried to welcome him.

"Great news, master," he said excitedly. "I learn your slave's name!"

"Really?" Xavier stopped from taking out his gloves to hand them to his servant.

"I am trying to teach him our language, so you can communicate with him."

"That's very thoughtful, Cory," Xavier caressed the boy's head. "So what's his name?"

"He's called Ayn," Cory looked up, his face all a smile.

"Ayn ..." the master let the name roll on his tongue. "What did you teach him so far?"

"I taught him the word 'master'," Cory added, and was rewarded with a smile.

"Very good, Cory, very good. You are, indeed, the best servant any master could wish for. Please prepare the master bedroom. I want something erotic, but not romantic. Behind the drapes on the left, you will find a hidden closet. Take what you find there, and use your imagination to prepare the room. I am counting on you."

"But, master, Ayn needs more preparation to ..." Cory started, alarmed.

"Worried about your friend?" Xavier smiled and Cory made himself small. Luckily, there was no afterthought in that casually spoken word. "It's not for Ayn," he said mysteriously. 

Cory felt his heart beating fast. 

"It's not for you, either," Xavier added. "I can get you do anything I want with a snap of my fingers. No, it is for someone who must be taught a lesson. Someone I have to fight with to make him submit."

The servant felt a cold chill on his back. He did not dare guessing who Xavier was talking about.

*****

Author's Note: That is all for now, dear readers! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. So, I bet you are already guessing, even if Cory doesn't dare to, who Xavier's guest will be on the next chapter. Let me hear your thoughts on how the room is going to be prepared for those two. Go as wild as you want, I am always looking for people with dirtier minds than mine ;)



A Good Servant Ch. 07



Cory could not stop the feeling of dread engulfing him, as he was taking out the items from the hidden safe in the wall, as indicated by his master. He had seen some of them before; others, he could only guess what they were for. 

He started first to drape the room in deep rich red. New curtains had been delivered, and he knew what they were for. He threw the black silk cover on the bed, making sure to tuck it in, and adjusted a few creases. What was Xavier planning? 

Taking the strange iron stand, he mused where to place it. Eventually, he opted for a side wall. He checked the cuffs, and trembled while imagining a strong, virile body bound to the contraption, taut with apprehension while the man in charge could approach it and check on all its vulnerabilities. Take a man his ability to move, and he would be nothing but a toy. Fallen in the wrong hands, even a sturdy toy could break. 

He watched the silken blindfold. After a short moment, he decided to let it hang on the iron stand. Most probably Xavier intended to take the man not only the power to move his limbs, but also his eyesight. 

Next came a collection of objects that could be mistaken as jewelry, if they weren't so heavy. The crop whip didn't look too menacing, but a short tentative slap over his open palm had Cory convinced it would hurt to be hit with it. He opted out the flail whip, though. 

He arranged everything on the bed and withdrew quietly. He hoped Xavier would be pleased. Apparently, his master had lately become the master of mood changes, and he did not want to get on his bad side.

~A Good Servant~

Lucas's bright green eyes looked serene as Cory took his coat and invited him in. He may not suspect what Xavier plans, the servant thought and he looked with unease at the guest. 

"Lord Lucas," he whispered softly. "Are you ... are you planning to spend the night?"

Under normal circumstances, the question would have seemed out of line. But Lucas looked straight at Cory as he spoke.

"Yes, Cory, and I hope you will be able to join us," he smiled. "Of course, if your master allows it."

"But," Cory's face turned into a worried frown. "Master ..."

He had no idea what he could say. It was not his place to say anything. A large warm hand came to rest atop his head. His eyes were a bit moist, and he blinked to look at the man he was secretly lusting for. In a world full of beautiful males, when he laid in his bed at night, his thoughts still wandered to the warm green eyes, the harsh, yet handsome features of Lucas's face, and the god like body he had seen only once before in all its naked glory. There was no measure for the attraction and adoration he felt towards the man, and it made him wonder why in the whole world, he was singling this one out. 

Maybe it was because Lucas was showing a genuine interest in him. He was not like Xavier, who cared only for dominance; he was not like Antoine, who wanted his ego tickled by sleeping with a servant belonging to the most powerful lord in Drena. He was not like the rest, who seemed to have their heads empty, or better said, filled with ambitions and perverted desires. In a world where he had so few friends, Ayn and Dion being the only ones not hurt and twisted to their core, Lucas seemed different, way above anyone else.

And it was wrong to want him. Cory knew it well. But Lucas wanted him, too, and that made his dream even more painful. Between them stood Xavier, never satisfied, always wanting and demanding more. Cory envied his master. He had Lucas's friendship and he didn't care for it. The servant could not understand the rich. Xavier was nothing but a spoiled brat, forever unhappy with everything that was handed to him on a golden plate.

"Don't worry, Cory. I've known Xavier for a long time. There is nothing he can do or say to make me feel or think otherwise. Tonight won't change a thing. But it may get me the one I desire for so long."

Cory's eyes grew wide. Lucas's hand descended on his cheek, caressing it with tenderness. "Xavier is a man of honor. For tonight, for everything he wants to do with me, you will be mine for an entire night."

There were no words to describe Cory's surprise. "Lord Lucas, please," he grabbed at the man's arm, confused and scared in the same time. "I am not worthy of ..."

His words were cut short by the sound of the main door opening and closing. Xavier was home. Lucas got up with grace, throwing a last meaningful look at Cory, and he exited the room, to join his long time friend.

~A Good Servant~

"So, what are you thinking?" Xavier sneaked on Lucas from behind, while letting his friend take in the setup before his eyes.

Lucas just shrugged. "I was expecting this. As always, you fail to surprise me," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. 

"Really?" Xavier's voice gained slithering tones, as he cupped Lucas's cheek with one hand, forcing him to turn and look him in the eyes. 

"Yes, really," Lucas confronted him. "Everything must be a conquest with you, Xavier. Otherwise, you just grow bored. But you fail to see a simple truth."

"What's that?" Xavier asked, a bit taken aback by his friend's determination.

"That force does not equal seduction. That you can approach one slowly, with kind words and soft touches, and get more than what you would by simply demanding submission."

"Submission ..." Xavier echoed Lucas's last word. "Funny you say that. Because this is the only thing I care for."

"So, are we going through with this or not?" Lucas asked, his head kept high.

"And I thought you'd never ask," Xavier mocked and pushed Lucas away from him. "Undress."

With short, efficient moves, Lucas removed his shirt and pants. Xavier watched him, while his hands caressed the items carefully displayed on the bed. 

"You know, I had Cory arrange the room for our rendez-vous," Xavier spoke, watching Lucas closely to gauge his reactions. 

The brunet just sighed. "I told you. You have to do better than this to surprise me. Of course you had him do that. He is your servant. Will he join us?" he asked.

Xavier chuckled. "Trying to play games with me, Lucas? You know you are as graceful as a brick when you try your hand at manipulation. Please leave that to me. I hope you will have no problem getting it up for me, even without Cory around."

"That doesn't answer my question," Lucas said stubbornly, as he stood completely naked, his legs slightly parted, his hands to the side, not in surrender, but ready, as if their owner was prepared for an attack.

"Not until it's due, my friend, not until it's due. Cory will be here, at the right moment, to face your absolute surrender to me."

"Absolute?" Lucas's beautiful lips twisted into a snarl. "Don't flatter yourself, Xavier. If I haven't fallen for you until now, it is highly unlikely some rough play will change that."

"Fall for me? Do you think this is what I am after? I only want your body. And once you will reach your limit, and have nothing but blinding desire engulfing whatever shreds of rational thinking you may still have, you will beg. Only then, I will have what I really want. I want you to submit, I want to have you in my power, and know that I can deny you what you have denied me for years."

"Is this about revenge?" Lucas continued to stare at Xavier, unflinching.

"Yes, I think you could call it that. You want Cory, and you will have to pay a heavy price for him. I doubt your body will want the same amount of pain and desire ever again, after tonight. Unless you come to crave it."

"You underestimate my resolve, Xavier. Mind is superior to body. There are places you cannot touch. They will remain closed to you."

"But the mind cannot live without the body," Xavier answered back. "And the conditioning you will feel growing into the very marrow of your bonds, the more you pin for that young piece of ass happening to be my servant, will eventually dictate, and you will be turned, just like anyone else, into a slave to my desire."

Lucas snorted. "I think you should have your head checked, my friend. I will let you have my body. For the rest, I don't think there is something you can do to convince me otherwise."

"Do you want to fight me?" Xavier approached Lucas with a device in his hand. 

"I think we are well passed the 'wanting' stage. Isn't it happening right now?" Lucas mocked.

With precise gestures, Xavier grabbed Lucas's flaccid cock and started pushing something cold and hard into the small hole. Lucas hissed.

"Never been teased here before?" Xavier asked with a smile, only to be rewarded right away with a proud glance from Lucas. "This is a simple, yet very efficient device. It keeps everything inside, you see. And with the cage on top of it," he continue as he slapped the small metal cage in his hand over Lucas's member, fitting it snuggly under the man's balls, "I will make sure that you will not be able to act on your desire. I hope you won't strain yourself," he mocked. "This is a warning."

"If you think you will be able to make me aroused so that this would feel uncomfortable, you are wrong," Lucas replied, although the corners of his mouth were starting to set in a deep line. 

"We will see about that," Xavier took Lucas's hand and guided him slowly towards the iron stand. "Please, be my guest."

Lucas looked completely impassive as he stood straight, letting Xavier use the cuffs to tie up his hands, then his legs, while spreading them wide. 

His chest was rising and falling rhythmically. Xavier traced Lucas's collarbone with one finger, descending on pert nipples. 

"If you don't feel anything, how come your body is standing up to attention?" Xavier teased.

"If I'm a bit cold, being undressed, it cannot be helped," Lucas continued stubbornly. 

Xavier's hands traveled on taut abdomen muscles, feeling every edge and crease on his friend's body. 

"You are so beautiful, Lucas," he whispered. "I would hate to destroy you completely. But, after tonight, you will prove what kind of man you are. Don't worry. If you give up, I will take care of you. You will be mine forever."

"So big words," Lucas commented. "I thought you better than this. Do you realize one thing, Xavier?"

"What's that?" Xavier almost glued himself to the naked body, stretched over the stand. 

"That I will not be the only losing something tonight."

"Is that so?"

For a short moment, green eyes clashed with grey ones, heavy with the storm lurking inside.

"I won't be your friend anymore. At night, when you're alone, you'll have to think if satisfying a mere fling was worth destroying the special bond we used to have."

It looked as if Xavier was ready to think everything over.

"A mere fling? I've wanted you for years. It is your newly acquired obsession with my Cory that is destroying our bond," he hissed.

"He may be your servant, but he is not yours. I won't be yours, either, no matter what you do," Lucas said with his head kept high, while Xavier took the silken scarf left on the stand to blind his friend for what was to come.

~A Good Servant~

Nothing could be heard from the perfectly insulated master bedroom, and Cory felt his heart growing smaller and smaller. Was Xavier going to hurt Lucas? Why was the beautiful man doing that for the likes of Cory? 

He chose to roam to Ayn's room, to settle his nerves a bit. He found the slave stretched on the bed, with a game pad in his hands, watching closely whatever action was happening on the small holographic screen summoned in front of his eyes.

The cage had been removed, but Ayn was kept on a leash welded to the bed, so he could move around, but not much.

"Hey, Ayn," he greeted the brunet, and sat on the bed next to him.

"We're alone, or something, Cory?" the slave immediately straightened up. "What the hell is he up to with this fucking leash?" he pulled annoyed at his collar to no avail.

"It's better than the cage, right?" Cory examined Ayn's neck, to see if the collar was not causing any chafing. 

"Yes and no," Ayn said with a frustrated sigh. "At least, in the cage, I did not feel something pulling at my neck all the time."

Turning to look at the servant, Ayn noticed Cory's frown.

"What's with you? Why the long face?"

"Master is home. He is now in his bedroom."

"Good for him. Let him stay there," Ayn plopped against the fluffy pillows. "Please don't tell me he wants to be entertained tonight. I could do another day without him trying to stuff that huge thing of his down my throat."

"No, rest assured he won't call on you tonight. He ... I guess he is plenty entertained right now."

"Something's off. What's with you? Who is he entertaining himself with?"

"Lord Lucas," Cory said softly.

"That Lord Lucas," realization dawned on Ayn. 

Cory had told Ayn about his crush, feeling good to talk to someone about what he felt. 

"So, Xavier and him ... You told me they were down with some kinky threesome. Why aren't you there with them?"

Like on cue, the servant just poured his heart out at Ayn. Was Xavier going to hurt Lucas? What was happening there? What were they doing?

"Wow, Cory, slow down," Ayn raised his hands in surrender. "Frankly, I don't know much about butt sex to begin with, because no one fucked me. But that looks like some batshit crazy stuff Xavier is doing over there. Still, you tell me Lucas is a tough guy, proud and everything. He'll pull it off; who knows, maybe he'll rip Xavier a new one," Ayn winked at Cory, managing to draw a small smile from him.

"Ayn, is it really ... you've never been with anyone?" Cory asked, blushing a bit. Ayn seemed comfortable talking about sex, but he was a virgin. At least, an ass virgin.

"I've been with girls. Plenty. Back home, they've always been fighting over me," Ayn smiled. "Got a lot of guys interested, too, but I was like, nah, fucking a girl is much too awesome."

Cory's eyes were as big as saucers.

"You don't have many girls around here, do you?" Ayn asked.

"No, the women are in a neighboring city. I don't know why. They are brought here, to give birth, and, if is a boy, the child is kept here, but, if it is a girl, the mother takes the baby with her."

"Shit," Ayn commented. "That's fucked up. Now I'm thinking I should have let some guy top me or something. Xavier is going to put that in my ass, eventually, right?"

Cory nodded. 

"Damn," Ayn felt frustrated. "Does it hurt?"

The servant cocked his head to a side. 

"I thought so," Ayn rolled his eyes. "I hope my ass will be so hard that his dick will break when he tries to enter."

Cory burst into laughter. Just imagining the almighty Lord Xavier, with a pained and surprised expression on his face, looking at his broken dick, was too much. Ayn joined him.

"Shit. I should try to take him more seriously," the slave said, once they stopped laughing.

"Well, master told me to get you a bit adjusted. So, we can try some stuff, if you want to," Cory said, blushing a little.

"What? Are you going to stuff things up my ass?" Ayn said, unconsciously shifting in his place. As usual, he was completely naked, but, apparently, he was getting used to that. 

"Be grateful. There was no adjusting for me. He pushed it right up my ass. Well, I liked it, even if it hurt at first," Cory admitted.

"And why is he so generous with me?" Ayn asked.

"He has this idea that you're a complete innocent and he wants to break you in slowly. Of course, he has no idea what a potty mouth you have there," Cory replied, with a grin.

"So, now I have to get some ass action?" Ayn asked, parting his legs slowly. "Should I ask you to be gentle or something?"

"No need to ask. You know I won't hurt you," Cory said sternly, while slapping Ayn playfully on his right shoulder. 

He searched the nearby drawer for the smallest dildo he could find, and some lube. 

"So, are you ready?"

"That thing looks big," Ayn's eyes were glued to the dildo.

"This little thing? Come on, Ayn, you'll have to take Xavier, don't be a coward."

He gestured for Ayn to get on his fours, and the slave complied. He giggled as the cold lube made contact with his puckered hole. Cory pushed a finger slowly inside. 

"Ouch," Ayn wiggled his ass.

"Really, now, it's just my finger," Cory chided.

"Yeah, that's one finger too many in my ass," Ayn replied. 

"It will feel better at some point," Cory tried to assure the slave, but Ayn was just too tight. 

The servant caressed the beautiful globes, as he tried to push a little more inside. Between Ayn's legs, his dark member stood flaccid. Without thinking too much, Cory bent and took the dangling balls in his mouth.

A surprised gasp came from Ayn, as his member started to lengthen. 

"Wow, Cory," he whispered. "You're good. I only had one girlfriend to do that to me."

Taking advantage of having Ayn a bit distracted, he took the dildo and pushed it inside. This time, the phallic object slid in with ease. It was not much thicker than Cory's finger and it was a good start for a beginner like Ayn.

Cory continued to tease Ayn's balls with his mouth and tongue, while using the dildo to get the slave used to the sensation. 

~A Good Servant~

In the meantime, frustration was growing in Xavier's mind, expanding like a tumor. He was touching Lucas everywhere, teasing him with fingers, but the stubborn man did not seem to react in any way. 

He turned for the bed to seek what he was looking for. Grabbing the crop whip, he suddenly lashed over Lucas's abdomen. A hiss was the only reply.

"Since I don't seem to get anywhere with you the soft way, I think the hard way is much recommended."

"What exactly do you want, Xavier?" Lucas replied, and gasped, when the whip connected with his right nipple, this time. 

No reply came from Xavier, as he was apparently fascinated with the red welt making its appearance on Lucas's flawless skin. He released his guest from the iron stand, and made him kneel next to the bed. With angry gestures, he pushed the man's knees aside and took a step back, to admire Lucas's round ass, sticking up in the air. 

He came closer and pushed two fingers inside Lucas. This time, the man reacted, by clamping his butt cheeks hard on Xavier's hand. 

"No one had you, right, Lucas?" Xavier's voice was growing thicker. 

"You know that very well," came the muffled reply. 

Most probably, Lucas had to bite the pillow, Xavier thought dispassionately. He was going to rape his best friend, and he was not going to regret it. But, for some reason, the thought did not appeal as much as he thought he would. There was something amiss. 

"Since you are all almighty and in control, I think I must do something to tip the balance in my favor," he commented icily.

Lucas heard him walking away, opening and closing the door briskly.

~A Good Servant~

Cory was nowhere in sight, Xavier noticed. He could have just called for him, but some sort of curiosity pushed the master of the house throughout the main hall, until he reached the door to the slave's room. It was most probably natural for Cory to seek the slave's company, especially since Xavier demanded him to train Ayn more in learning the language, as well as in other ways.

When he opened the door, the scene before his eyes made him hard almost instantly, something he had been struggling to acquire for the entire evening, while trying to get Lucas and himself in the mood. His servant was laying on one side, teasing the servant's balls with his tongue, while Ayn was positioned on his fours, with a small dildo up his sexy ass. 

"Cory," he said sternly.

Desire dictated him to forget all about the man knelt on the rich red carpet in his master bedroom, and just climb the much simpler bed in his slave's room and claim the young body presenting itself like that, ready for taking. He could have used Cory's skill to play with both his and Ayn's balls, to heighten his lust. But he had a promise to fulfill, and there was no time to play for now.




A Good Servant Ch. 07



Cory looked a bit flushed, as he got up to greet his master. 

"How is Ayn doing?"

The slave had moved, as well, taking out the dildo from his ass and throwing it on the floor, as if he feared the object could have continued to penetrate him, despite no longer having someone manipulating it.

"He is just starting to get accustomed with it, master," Cory said breathily.

"I thought I told you to help him get used to it, but I don't remember allowing you to touch him with your mouth," he tried to quench his frustration by taking it out on his servant.

"I apologize, master, but he was so afraid that I thought I could convince him with a bit more stimulation," Cory said hurriedly.

A bit more stimulation was exactly what Xavier needed to solve the conundrum in the master bedroom, so he just gestured for Cory to follow him, not without throwing a meaningful look in Ayn's direction.

The slave tensed as their eyes met. Xavier smiled. Suddenly, he felt warmth where there had been ice. Maybe he could use a consolation prize in a few days.

~A Good Servant~

Cory's mouth went slack when he saw Lucas bent so unceremoniously over the bed, waiting for Xavier's return. His master obviously wanted to make the man realize who was on top. There was no seduction there, no sweet surrender. Xavier wanted to hurt Lucas. 

"Go give him the same treatment you were giving Ayn just now," Xavier ordered, knowing well Lucas would hear his words, and wonder what Cory had been doing until now.

Cory obeyed and knelt between Lucas's parted knees. He touched the perfect mounds with reverence and slid his tongue on the ass crack, making sure to apply enough pressure so that Lucas could feel him. His head was spinning, filled with the sensation of touching Lucas, the man ever present in his dreams, in such an intimate manner. Except for that encounter, when he'd been a servant to Xavier for just a few days, he had never been so close to Lucas.

He kissed and licked the man's secret entrance. He had heard how Lucas had never let anyone in there. He knew it was a matter of minutes until that was going to change.

Under his ministrations, Lucas's breath grew deeper, ragged. Cory closed his eyes and caressed the man's hole with his lips. He was not just giving a rim job; he was making love to his beloved's prized entrance. 

"Enough," he heard Xavier, and suddenly he was pushed aside, to let his master enter Lucas in one go, making the knelt man gasp. "Don't try to keep your voice down, Lucas. Feel free to scream or curse, or blame me for having Cory prepare you so you can get your body ravaged by me."

No sound came, except for a few grunts here and there. "Quite the stoic, aren't you?" Xavier slammed inside his friend's body over and over again, like a madman.

Beside him, Cory was turning livid. The servant felt his chest aching, witnessing the vile ways of his master. His heart went to Lucas, but he could do nothing. Nothing. It was what he was, after all. Nothing else but a tool, to be used by an unforgiving master who held nothing holy in his heart. Not even friendship.

His master's quickened breathing let him know that Xavier was close. As Xavier rose to his feet, one minute later, he heard the short order.

"Clean up this mess."

He hurried to comply. With trembled hands, he caressed the man's ass again and closed his lips on his now ravaged entrance, to suck out the liquid pumped by force into him. Xavier thought that was humiliating to them both. Little he knew that Cory thought of it as at least an attempt at healing. There was going to be no trace of Xavier in Lucas's body. Not if Cory could help it, so he just pushed the man's ass cheeks apart to gain better access inside, and clean the abused hole as much as possible.

"What do you say, Lucas?" he heard Xavier's mocking voice again. "How does it feel to have your little toy thing clean up after I had you like I would have had the lowest of all slaves?"

"I say only one thing," Lucas's voice was proud and unmoving. "Are we done here already?"

The words had the effect of a bucket of ice water on Xavier's mood. 

"I fucked you. I think we're through," he spat. "Help him get dressed and get out," he ordered Cory and turned on his heels to leave the room. 

It had been a disaster, after all.

*****

Author's Note:

I absolutely loved hearing from all of you, guys, and, as you can see, I used some of your ideas. As always, the muse is a tricky little thing, and what some of you have said about the friendship between Lucas and Xavier going to be trashed after such an experiment got stuck deep in my brain. Even more than the kinky stuff. This was the result, I hope I managed to surprise you, at least a bit, and not disappoint you (too much).

What do you think will happen next? What will Ayn do to get closer to freedom? How is Cory going to deal with the fact that Lucas wants him so much that he didn't mind sacrificing his own body for a night together? And don't you think I forgot about Dion. His fate won't be an easy one, but, in the end, I hope you will like what it's going to happen to him. Until next time, I wait - impatiently - for your thoughts and ideas, even if you just want to yell at me for not writing more. :)



A Good Servant Ch. 08



There was a bad taste in his mouth he could not stave off. As so many times before, he looked across the conference room to search for his friend's eyes. But Lucas, unlike the said many times, did not show any sign he felt Xavier's eyes searching for his. 

Something akin to pain squeezed his chest. He had no idea he'd been dependent on Lucas's most simple gestures, such as meeting his gaze, whenever he needed support or encouragement. An acute sensation that he was in the same room with a pack of wolves took over.

Xavier sighed, running a hand through his hair. Every lord in Drena was expected to at least try to become the most important master in the city. There was a fragile balance, thin as a thread, seemingly kept by an invisible hand that was dictating the fights for power. For years, he'd been the one in charge; but right now, as he suddenly felt alone in the enormous room filled with men dressed all in black, he had an ominous feeling that his reign was coming to an end.

Fate was not kind to losers. Lucas had often said that he didn't care about becoming lord protector because it would mean the end to him. He much preferred his lab experiments to power plays. Xavier had hurried to point out it would have been impossible for Lucas to be assigned the supreme function, as he was not born and raised in Drena. Nonetheless, he now knew Lucas had been right all alone.

He had to send Cory to Lucas. He was just stalling for no reason. Lucas was not pressing the matter, either. The conversations between them had been kept short, always focused on state affairs and nothing more. Xavier had tried to look at Lucas and imagine him as he'd laid there, bent over the bed, with Xavier's semen pouring off his ass. It was supposed to be humiliating for Lucas. Yet, the man seemed as dignified as ever; instead, Xavier felt the one humiliated.

It was not even making him mad. If anything, he felt sadness, self pity even. He'd always been alone, but it had taken his ambition and obsession to drive him to the point of destroying the only thing that was durable and real in his world.

He could not stand the emptiness he felt inside. It stood there, like a hole growing larger and larger, gnawing at him from the inside. The only moments he'd managed to put the sensation to rest had been when he'd had Cory next to him in bed. The only person not judging him; but Cory had obedience forced into him, so his acceptance meant nothing. He needed something else. Someone else. 

~A Good Servant~

"Cory, please have Ayn washed and ready for tonight," he ordered shortly, while taking out his coat. 

The servant tensed a bit, but, as always, bowed his head and replied. "Yes, Master."

It had to be done sooner or later. In his search for a remedy, Xavier believed more and more that having his slave would set things straight once more.

~A Good Servant~

Cory tried to put on a neutral face as he broke Ayn the news. The beautiful brunet bit on his lower lip in annoyance.

"Shit. What am I going to do?"

"You just do what I told you. Relax, let him do his thing, and it will be over. There is no point in fighting. You will only end up hurt."

"I'm going to end up hurt anyway," Ayn said morosely. "There is no way he can put his fucking cock inside me, without breaking me."

Cory sighed. Ayn could not understand and was incredibly stubborn, on top of it all. Cory had tried to tell him that it could be pleasurable, but the brunet had just frowned and shook his head. 

"I'll fucking bleed to death," the slave added and Cory caressed his shoulder briefly.

"If he's pleased with you, he'll let you roam free. Even give you some clothes. At some point, he will let you come shopping with me. Then I will show you all the ins and outs of the city. You will be able to plan your escape."

Ayn seemed to feel a bit encouraged by Cory's words. 

"Alright, alright, I'll try. But I'm so sure he will have to strangle me first before fucking me."

"Stop talking like that," Cory chided him. "It hurts at first, but remember to relax. He is going to use lube, it's not like he's going in dry. Just think of something nice while he's fucking you and it will be over in no time."

The servant didn't have the heart to tell Ayn Xavier had great staying power. The brunet was way too scared to hear about that.

~A Good Servant~

Xavier was naked in his bed when Ayn was gently pushed inside by Cory. His eyes lingered on the beautiful young body, his cock stirring in anticipation. 

"You can go now, Cory."

He sensed the hesitation in his servant for a brief moment. Cory was really growing attached to the slave. He was behaving quite like a mother hen around Ayn, and Xavier was finding it amusing. Right now, however, he had to send Cory off. He wanted to be alone with his property.

Almond shaped eyes followed him with apprehension as he rose from the bed and got closer. He could tell Ayn's eyes were drawn to his sex, although the slave tried hard to avert them as soon as they got there. 

The boy was scared. Unlike the first days, when he'd been clueless, now he knew what was going to happen. Xavier wanted to bury himself in that virgin ass and claim ownership. That would make him feel whole.

Still, Ayn's lovely eyes filled with worry were forcing him to look back, at the moment he had taken Lucas despite the man's warnings about loss. With Ayn, he didn't want to lose. 

He caressed the sinewy arms, going upwards, until his hands reached the young man's neck. His thumbs caressed a very nervous Adam's apple, bobbing up and down. Then he cupped the boy's cheeks in his palms and drew him slowly in, for a kiss.

Apparently, it had not been what the slave had expected. A small whimper escaped his lips, as he was being kissed slowly, tenderly. Their eyes met briefly as Xavier broke the kiss. 

"Cory tells me you are learning the language," Xavier said softly.

The slave did not seem to understand. His face scrunched into a frown. Xavier caressed his chest slowly. 

"Ayn," he whispered and took the slave's hand and placed it over his heart.

"Master," the brunet whispered back, and Xavier pulled him back into his arms to kiss him again.

Slowly, he guided the youngster towards the bed, until they landed on it, Xavier on top, ravenous with desire. He loved kissing the men he brought to bed, but, in Ayn's lips, reluctant, yet hungry, he felt something else that was fueling his hunger for tongue and kisses, instead of quenching it. He was not willing, at least not yet, to move forward.

His left hand traveled lower, finding purchase in Ayn's member. He noted with satisfaction how the young man was starting to get hard. Slowly peeling the foreskin, he gave Ayn's cock a tentative tug, and the slave arched into his touch. 

Xavier pushed Ayn's knees apart, to get closer. His own engorged cock pushed inside the slave's thigh, making the brunet stiffen all of a sudden. 

"I won't hurt you," he murmured, but the slave did not seem to understand, regardless of how softly the words had been spoken.

His hand searched blindly for the lube he had placed next to the bed earlier. He coated his fingers while trying to distract Ayn's attention with another long kiss. At least this was something the slave seemed to enjoy.

Pushing between firm butt cheeks, his fingers found purchase in the tight puckered hole. The brunet's body showed no sign of giving in, though. It remained hard and unyielding and Xavier was starting to grow frustrated. 

He wasn't going to repeat the same mistake he'd done with Lucas. He wanted the hard beautiful body beneath him to surrender on its owner's accord, without the use of force. He withdrew his hand, resting it on the young man's ball sack, caressing it.

"Waiting is maddening, you know, Ayn," he spoke, while his deft fingers rolled the slave's testes in circular motions. "But I will try," he promised, oblivious to the small sparkle of surprise in deep dark eyes. 

Soon enough, they were embraced tightly, rubbing their bodies against one another, Ayn merely clinging on Xavier's slightly larger frame, as the master of the house was dry humping him with all his might. 

There was a clash of wills there, and soon enough, the slave picked up the pace, meeting each heavy thrust with his own. The tender flesh of their organs was being abused in the process, yet it looked like they did not care.

Breathing heavily, Xavier let himself slide on Ayn's body, until he reached the floor with his knees. Unceremoniously, he dragged the slave by one leg, forcing him to stand on his ass on the edge of the bed. 

There was a short moment, of acceptance from Xavier's part, and of realization from Ayn's, as the most powerful man in Drena sank to his knees, and buried his head in his slave's crotch. When wet lips connected with the smooth skin on the slave's luscious with precum cock head, Ayn voiced his pleasure from the top of his lungs.

The door opened slowly, without a sound. Cory stood there, fresh towels in his hands, taking in the scene before his eyes, his mouth agape. His master, the man he feared, along with most people in Drena, was servicing his slave with his mouth, while Ayn's strong hands were guiding his head to take him in deeper. 

The servant let the towels next to the door. He was supposed to act like a savior or something like that, to stop Xavier from ravaging Ayn. Yet it seemed that the master-slave couple was reaching an understanding he could not comprehend.

~A Good Servant~

"What do you mean, that was all?" Cory whispered, not believing his ears. Although he had seen some of it with his own eyes, that didn't mean he was ready to accept it.

"I am telling you, man, he just sucked me off, swallowed everything like a good boy, and then jerked off and came all over my feet," Ayn stretched and yawned. "He's a fucking great cocksucker, this master of yours."

"He's your master, too," Cory kicked him playfully in the ribs.

"Not when it comes to bedroom affairs, he's not," Ayn said triumphantly, raising enough from the bed to tickle Cory in response. "I am telling you, he's a bit fucked up or something."

"I don't get it," Cory shook his head. "He's always so domineering and ..."

He was lost for words. 

"Maybe he could not resist my sword fighting technique," Ayn grabbed his cock through his pants and gave it a squeeze. 

Cory snorted. "It's so uncanny, but since it's true, I cannot argue with you. I hope you didn't give yourself away by saying something."

"Of course not. I'm playing the dumb as a brick routine like a pro," Ayn smirked, seemingly very pleased with himself. "And he's falling for it, which is nice."

"He is falling for you, which is ... strange," Cory commented.

"Nah, he's just a fucking perv," Ayn replied, but the servant could tell there was something the brunet was not so keen on saying. Something he probably preferred to keep to himself for now. "All you guys ever did was to make nice to him, and he got bored. Now he wants to play for the other team a little."

Cory laughed. "If you manage to top him, I am giving you the cock of the year award."

"Well, thank you in advance."

"Hey, you haven't done it yet!" the servant said, somewhat alarmed.

"Maybe it's all a matter of time," Ayn grinned, obviously very satisfied with himself.

There was a short moment of silence, and Cory touched Ayn's elbow gently. "So, how was it?"

Ayn squirmed a little. "A blowjob's a blowjob. In other words, fucking awesome."

"Besides that."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Ayn, you know what," Cory insisted. "Do you like him, at least a little?"

"I fucking love his mouth, that's what I like," Ayn rose briskly and started walking back and forth. The leash was gone, so he could move with ease, and he had been even given some clothes. Very tight and revealing, but still clothes. "As long as he keeps it up like this, he's a winner in my book. If he makes a move for my ass, though, I'll chop his dick." 

"You like him," Cory teased.

"Shut the fuck up. I hate his guts. I barely wait to get out of this place."

"Well, I guess you'll need to put up with his blowjobs a bit more until he's ready to leave you to roam the city."

"Fine by me," Ayn shrugged, but Cory could swear the slave's resolve was wavering.

"No matter how hot he is, don't fall for him, Ayn. He's my master and I respect him, but staying because of him would not be a great idea. I heard he doesn't care much for his toys."

"Don't worry, Cory, I have no intention to become one," Ayn said sourly.

~A Good Servant~

"You will be spending the night at Lucas's place," his master let him know, as if he was dropping a casual note that he was to pick up the laundry. 

Cory almost dropped the tray he was carrying in his hands. 

"Whatever he asks, make sure he gets," Xavier added, and turned on his feet, letting his young servant trying to quench the fast beating of his heart.

Those were some famous last words, Cory thought. What did Lucas want? If he was to believe the man's blatant seduction, Lucas wanted Cory whole, and the servant had no idea what that meant. He was going to enjoy an amazing night, in the arms of the one he was dreaming of all the time, but what was going to happen after that?

He was glad Xavier was no longer demanding his services in bed. Each night, the master of the house was asking for his slave, and Ayn's bedroom remained empty until the break of dawn, when an exhausted Ayn was leaving the master bedroom to rest in his own bed until late afternoon.

According to the brunet, things weren't evolving too much between master and slave. Apparently, Xavier had developed quite a taste in taking care of Ayn's needs with his mouth, and there had been no more attacks on his virginity.

"Man, I've never thought I was going to say that, but I'm getting sick of getting oral. Can you fucking believe it?" Ayn interrupted his thoughts, while walking through the door to the living room.

"How come you are up so early?"

"I'm hungry," Ayn yawned and let himself fall on the sofa. "Make me a sandwich. Or two. Or more."

"What on earth is happening between you two the whole night, if he only sucks you off?" Cory asked while setting the tray on the small coffee table.

"Well, first he is driving me mad by kissing me. Cory, this guy has spent like seven lives or so without kissing or something. He is so much into kissing that he's making me nuts."

"You like it," Cory grinned. "He is a great kisser, though," he mused.

A small frown clouded Ayn's face for a second. "He no longer fucks you, right?" he asked, a bit worried.

Cory's eyes grew wide and then he burst into laughter. "You're jealous, I cannot believe it."

"I'm not jealous, what the hell ..." Ayn murmured, but he was obviously upset. "Anyway, we kiss and dry hump for like forever, and then he goes down on me, and starts to blow me. I think I'll be able to write a book on oral sex, that's how many techniques he has. He varies things lately, by licking my balls and my ass, too. I guess he still doesn't realize he's knocking at the wrong door, but whatever. So I have his tongue in my ass, on my balls and on my dick until I cannot anymore and I blow my load in his mouth. He's eating everything like it's his last meal ... Just seeing him doing that almost makes me hard again. Only that I fucking can't, because he's emptied my balls. After that, he starts talking."

"Talking?" Cory seemed surprised. "About what?"

"About all kinds of crazy shit. Of course, I pretend I understand squat, so I just stay there, while he keeps my hand and goes about his stuff."

"Could you please tell me more?" Cory sat on the sofa, next to Ayn, his curiosity picked.

"Yeah, it's basically the same stuff, with some variations. At first, he starts telling me about his day at work, like I'm his wife. Then he starts talking about the jerk-offs in a committee or something like that."

Ayn stopped for a second. Cory pushed him a little to make him talk again. Like awaken from a dream, the slave continued. 

"He sounds a bit ... scared sometimes. And sad. He talks about how he never knew his parents. Did you know that even the most powerful guys in the city are raised by some monks?"

"The trainers?" Cory could not believe his ears.

"Yeah, them. By the way, your Lucas is not from around here."

"Good to know," Cory murmured.

"After he talks and talks until I almost fall asleep, he jumps me again. This time, it's about him though. He loves coming on me. I think he's trying to mark me; I think one day I'll get out of there with spunk in my ears. And he comes like a hose, the perv," Ayn added, a bit embarrassed all of a sudden.

"That is so strange," Cory mused.

"Hey, those sandwiches?" Ayn pushed him playfully. "They won't make themselves. Just kidding, let's go to the kitchen together."

~A Good Servant~

Cory's heart was beating wildly against his chest as the door bell chimed playfully. He had no idea who else was going to be around Lucas's penthouse. Lucas most probably had his own servants, so that was announcing to be an awkward experience. Was alright for all lords to flaunt their preferences like that? Servants were not on the same footing with slaves who were meant for pleasure, and could be used by masters inclined to do so. Making use of servants was tolerated, but somewhat frowned upon. He'd heard on more than one occasion how Xavier's proclivities with servants in particular were quite a gossip subject in most salons, at parties, or in private. Being lord protector had its perks, though, so Xavier didn't really care about what others were saying. Or so Cory thought. Ayn was telling him some really crazy things he didn't know about his master, like the fact that he was worried about his position, as the most important master in Drena.

It was Lucas, not a servant, as he expected, who opened the door. There was a short, intense moment, during which Cory's baby blues sank in Lucas's beautiful green eyes. The young servant was dragged inside by a strong hand, and he was pushed against the wall, as he heard the entrance door slamming shut with a loud thump. There were lips everywhere as he was lifted off the ground as if he weighed nothing. 

There were no other pairs of eyes to witness their long waited communion. So Cory kissed back, allowing himself to pour all the passion he'd kept secret for such a long time. He felt strong hands cupping his ass, parting his butt cheeks, digging into the thin fabric of his uniform, almost ripping it. He whimpered against Lucas's deft tongue that was skillfully probing his hot cavern. Cory wanted out of his clothes too, to be completely naked against the man's powerful frame. 

Slowly, Lucas put him down. "Sorry, Cory," his voice sounded hoarse, uneven, "I seem to have lost control for a bit."

Cory didn't care. He wanted Lucas to lose control over him. There was nothing more fulfilling, mind blowing than to think that a man as beautiful and smart and kind as Lucas wanted him so badly that he was willing to forget his manners. 

He was taken by the hand to be guided inside a lavish dining room. The dinner table had been arranged for two, and Cory felt uneasiness washing over him. There had to be a servant around, ready to wait on them. What was that servant going to think, seeing Cory being showered in so much attention by one of the most powerful masters in the city?

It looked as if Lucas could read his mind. "There will only be the two of us tonight. No one will interrupt us."

Cory's eyes grew wide, then he bit his lower lip.

"What is it?" Lucas asked, suddenly concerned.

"Would it be alright, lord Lucas, if I said ..." Cory gulped, blushing, but continued, "that I do not care about food?"

Lucas turned him so they could face each other. Calloused fingers caressed Cory's well defined lips. "Are you anxious to see my bedroom, Cory? And please drop the lord part, I'm just Lucas here" he joked, but his voice was becoming low, silkier, filled with innuendo.




A Good Servant Ch. 08



The servant did not offer an answer. Instead he sank to his knees and searched blindly for Lucas's zipper. He looked up, his hands trembling, wanting nothing but to see acceptance and encouragement in deep green eyes. 

"Cory," Lucas whispered, and placed a warm hand atop the servant's blond head.

It was just what Cory needed. Eyes half mast, his fingers circling the man's silky shaft, he brought his prize to his lips. It was amazing how males could be so similar, yet so different. Lucas's organ felt real and hard in his hand, steel draped in silk, and its musky smell was making him dizzy. He could feel the expensive soap smell, but even clean, the man's organ held a certain fragrance he wanted to imprint in his memory.

Along with its taste, he thought, as he engulfed Lucas's member in his mouth, working the shaft with his tongue and his hand in the same time.

"Naughty Cory, do you want an appetizer first?" Lucas teased, as his hands were caressing Cory's head, holding him steady so he could see about his little oral fixation. 

It was not polite to talk with his mouth full, so he just tried to nod. Soon enough, his wish was granted, as Lucas came, with a small grunt, in his mouth. The hands continued to keep him there, not forcibly, but caring, caressing all the time, and he reveled in the sensation of having the man he'd wanted for so long, the only one who counted, whose smell and taste and touch wanted to remember forever.

He was made to get up slowly, as Lucas gently grabbed him with one hand, as he used the other to stuff his spent organ inside his black pants.

"Would you like to go to the bedroom, now?" Lucas asked.

"Yes, please ... Lucas," Cory avoided the honorific at the last moment. It felt strange, but good. So good that Cory could not remember anything being like this ever in his life. 

He did not expect to be so ceremoniously lifted off the floor and carried by strong arms to Lucas's bedroom. It was just going to be for one night, so he had to make it last. It was not common for servants in Drena to ever dream of being used by one of the masters. No, used was not the proper term. That was what Xavier was doing. Lucas's hands were caring, loving, as he placed his sweet burden on the enormous bed and started to undress the young servant.

His mind became devoid of any thought, a simple vessel meant for desire, as Lucas's lips descended on his neck, nibbling playfully along the collarbone, only to go lower, to tease the young servant's erect nipples. A small cry left his lips. 

"Is it good here?" Lucas lips captured one small bud between them again.

"Yes, please, more," Cory said breathily, his hands moving on their own accord to run through Lucas's raven hair.

His wish was granted, as Lucas continued to devour him slowly, biting without breaking skin, just to make him arch into the touch. If Lucas wanted to eat him whole, he wouldn't have minded. 

His pants were dragged over his erection, making yelp a little in surprise, and he hurriedly opened his legs, wanting Lucas to get there as soon as possible. But the brunet had other plans, as his mouth descended on Cory's cock, taking him in fast and easy. The servant moaned shamelessly, feeling the head of his dick hitting the back of Lucas's throat. That was something no one had ever done to him. He had to tell Ayn he'd been right; getting a blowjob was, indeed, fucking awesome. 

Lucas seemed skilled at it, too. Cory could not stop a short pang of jealousy as he wondered who'd been on the receiving end of Lucas's amazing technique. 

"Please, I want to come with you inside me," he begged and suddenly he felt cold air hitting his organ where it had been only scorching heat. 

Soon enough, cold slick fingers were playing against his hole, and Cory whimpered. It had been a while since he'd been penetrated. Xavier had been too busy with Ayn, and Antoine was only fucking him when they met at parties. For that, Cory was glad. He wanted to feel Lucas to the fullest.

"You're tight," Lucas commented, as his fingers continued to stretch him gently.

"Take me now," Cory whispered. "I'm more than ready."

A few tears came unbound, as something much larger than the fingers was pushed through his tight ring of muscles. Cory didn't mind the small pain; soon, the discomfort faded away and he circled Lucas's midsection with his long legs, to drag him closer.

Lucas caressed his cheeks with infinite tenderness. Then he suddenly stopped.

"Are you crying? Am I hurting you?" Lucas asked, alarmed, trying to withdraw.

Cory clamped his legs over the man's frame in desperation. "No, you're not. It's just that ... I'm so happy."

There was a small exhaling sound. Lips connected once more, as Lucas moved inside the smaller body beneath him. They moved in the same rhythm, as Cory thought he'd never been so compatible with anyone. It felt as if Lucas fit there, as if they were two halves of a whole, finally gluing together to form something special and wonderful that was making Cory's heart throb with excitement and happiness. 

He came without even touching himself. Lucas knew exactly how to push to brush over his prostate over and over again, until he saw stars beneath his closed eyelids. His lover's hot seed filled him soon afterwards and, unbound, words left his lips.

"I won't mind if I die now..."

Teeth buried into his lips, making him yelp. "Don't you dare talking like this while in my arms," he heard the stern words, as soon as his punishment was over.

~A Good Servant~

In the meantime, in Xavier's penthouse, Ayn was starting to feel restless. Even if Cory was not allowed to witness their trysts, it felt good to know he was around, when he and Xavier were going about their nightly business. 

As the master of the house entered his bedroom, he felt his heart growing smaller. The man's eyes were burning. He tended to look a bit wilder lately. Ayn knew he could not postpone the inevitable forever. And, in a way, he wanted it all to happen so they could get over with it.

"Master," he rose from the bed, to welcome Xavier. He'd continued to pretend he only knew a few words. The situation seemed to be to Xavier's satisfaction; apparently, the most powerful man in Drena needed nothing more than a silent companion.

Xavier kissed him greedily and pushed him onto the bed. Clothes were flying everywhere and Xavier was on his knees, servicing Ayn with his mouth, as he'd done it for the last weeks. 

Ayn kept the man's head there with all his might, bucking into his mouth. It felt good to assert dominance in this manner, even if it was short lived. Xavier seemed to enjoy it, too.

His climax came like a wave; he could not resist for too long, as his cock was being wrapped by the skilled tongue, always sucking him dry. In the haze that followed, he noted how something hot was pouring on his balls and dripping between his butt cheeks. His eyes snapped open, but it was too late. 

Above him, Xavier's eyes were burning brighter. Ayn let out a cry, ashamed of it, but too surprised to be taken so suddenly, and his mouth was covered by his master. His ass was burning as he was split open. Lubed with his own jizz, now how was that for irony?

He tried to push against the man, but Xavier was strong, and Ayn's senses were dulled by pain, as his virgin ass was used by the relentless cock pushing past his entrance. He bit on Xavier's lips, for lack of a better way to make him stop, but the taste of blood in their mouths seemed to drive the man even madder. He increased his rhythm, and Ayn had no choice but to allow the invasion, screaming silently in his head, trying to remember everything Cory had taught him about getting relaxed to let the penetration happen. Who the fuck could relax with a giant thing up his butt, that felt so deep inside that it was making him want to puke?

Xavier adjusted their position, by dragging Ayn closer to him. The change in angle made something between the head of Xavier's cock and something inside Ayn's ass connect, and the slave's breath hitched in his chest. What the fuck was that?

Xavier thrust into him, hitting the same spot. He moaned, something strange akin to a short-circuit making his thoughts halt, unsure of what he was feeling. 

"Do you like it, Ayn?" Xavier breathed over his face. 

Man, how he wanted to punch that handsome face! But it had to be done later, as now, there was something really strange happening, as he felt his ball sack tightened and fluid broke free from his cock, without any other stimulation.

"You do," Xavier said haughtily and started grunting and coming inside his slave's ass, his moves shorter, harder and harsher.

Ayn lay to one side, breathing heavily. He'd been stupid to close his eyes; he'd let his guard down. Now, he was nothing but the man's bitch.

A hard slap on his ass made him jump. He turned to look at his master, reproach and anger written all over his beautiful face.

"What? It was obviously long overdue," Xavier mocked. "I was stupid to let you go for so long. You're everything my cock needs, Ayn," he whispered and dragged his reluctant slave into an ardent kiss.

Ayn's mind was set. He needed to get the fuck out and fast. There was no way he was going to like taking that guy's cock up his ass. 

~A Good Servant~

"So, I gather that your encounter with my servant was up to expectations," Xavier probed Lucas for info, as soon as they were alone in his large office, overlooking the majestic Drena bay.

It was not a question, more an affirmation. Cory had been instructed to offer Lucas everything the man wanted, and Cory was an exemplary servant. Knowing his skill, Xavier doubted Lucas had been unsatisfied with the servant's performance.

"Yes," Lucas said with a small frown, after a short moment of hesitation.

"I no longer use him," Xavier said abruptly and Lucas stared at him as if he was trying to make sense of the words. "So you can have him each night, if you are so inclined. Of course, I need him for daily chores, and Ayn is far too attached to him, to replace him at this point, so just make sure he gets enough sleep."

Lucas's eyes turned to slits. There was no such thing as free lunch. "Why the sudden change of heart, Xavier? I thought you to be a meager man when it came to sharing your toys."

Xavier shrugged. "I think I finally see your point. And ... our friendship seems to have taken the wrong turn, so I must offer something in return for your ... discomfort."

"Discomfort?" Lucas smiled thinly. "Xavier, you have a way with words that never stops to amaze me. And really? What did you hope for? I am not Chief Psychologist for nothing. I know the ins and outs of the human mind much better than you could possibly know."

There was no self praise there, in those words. Xavier knew them to be the truth.

"Don't you like my gift then?" he asked, not hiding his hurt this time.

"Oh, but I do. But you'll have to sign a small paper. If anything happens - and I mean anything - requiring Cory's release from your service, he is going to be placed in my care immediately."

"It will be done," Xavier admitted. "But he's a great servant, I have no reason to dismiss him."

Lucas nodded. "I know. I will see you later, at the meeting."

He made a turn for the door then Xavier spoke again. "Lucas." There was something there, vibrating and hurting that made the brunet turn. 

"Yes?" He had no intention to make things easy for the man. 

"Could I see you later? Outside work?"

"Yes, I guess," Lucas shrugged. Xavier's unexpected gift was not coming without any obligations.

"I'm taking my slave to bed," Xavier continued, as that was something he'd been keeping inside for too long. "I believe he hates me, to some degree. But he enjoys my touch and breaking him is delicious."

Lucas shook his head. "Mend your ways, Xavier. The act is growing old. Is breaking this boy what you are really after? I've told you many times before. That feeling of emptiness you feel inside won't fill with sex, especially not the forced kind. There is no love by force. And it won't bring anyone back," he ended and this time he walked away, knowing too well Xavier was not going to listen to reason.

~A Good Servant~

In the meantime, Cory was walking back home feeling like on cloud number nine. His happiness faded, though, the moment he met Ayn's eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, his heart in his throat, while hurrying at his friend's side.

Ayn was on his belly, his head on his folded arms, with a morose expression on his beautiful face. "He fucked me. The sneaky bastard, he just fucked me. And it hurt like hell, and I fucking came when he did," he blurted it all out and squeezed his eyes shut to hide the storm of emotions raging inside.

"Let me see," Cory touched him gently.

"No, please," Ayn said breathily. 

"Come now, I've seen you a thousand times. I need to see if you're hurt," he said gently.

Reluctantly, Ayn gave in to the gentle touch. Cory inspected him, without touching much. "Nothing's torn," he exhaled. "I'll prepare a bath. I'll have you relaxed and better in no time."

"I'm clean," Ayn murmured, as he pulled up his pants. "Spent hours in the shower, trying to take him off me. Fucking scumbag," he said through his teeth.

Cory caressed his shoulder. 

"It's not the pain that's bad," Ayn talked. "It's the fact that the jerk thinks he owns me. That I'm his bitch now."

"Ayn, it's not like that," Cory tried to stop the torrent of self deprecating words pouring from Ayn's mouth. "He likes you. He will take good care of you. And it gets better after the first time ..."

"No shit," Ayn retorted. "The last thing I want is to moan like a slut in heat as he stuffs his cock in me. You don't understand, Cory. Where I come from, if you're settled to being a bitch, that's all you will ever be. If you sleep with a guy, you better make fucking sure you top the guy, too, or else everyone will stare at your ass and think how it would be to ride you."

Cory opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. He had no idea what to say.

"Don't worry. I'll set this straight. I'll fucking jump him, too. See how he likes it with a cock up his ass."

The servant shook his head, horrified. "Don't do it by force, Ayn. If you try, he can have you executed. He can have you in chains, torturing you and no one will save you. Please, I beg you, don't do anything rash. Look, I'll call him and ask him if I can take you out. You'll see the city. Please, you're so close to being free."

"Shit, Cory, you do have a way with words," Ayn squeezed the pillow beneath him in his arms. "You're right, I need to get out of here, before I smash his head in."

There was a small sigh of relief from Cory. He could not let Ayn do anything stupid.

~A Good Servant~

Dion's arms were flailing, as his throat was slowly squeezed by powerful hands. The knee in his groin was worse, or he could not really tell.

"Now, Dion, for the last time, why is Cory no longer allowed at parties? Talk or we'll take this a bit further this time," Antoine warned.

He went slack. He had to surrender. There was no choice for him. Eventually, the slave let him drop to the ground in a heap, coughing and spitting.

"Lord Lucas claimed him. No one is to touch him anymore."

He knew he should have kept his head down while saying that. But he could not quench the desire to look up and see Antoine's surprise at hearing the news. Even hurting so badly, he managed a small smile. Antoine looked devastated upon learning that Cory could no longer be his.

The slave's fist connected quickly with his jaw. He slumped back to the floor, as Antoine kicked him with his feet. In reflex, he covered his face. Antoine pulled his head back by the hair. Still, his fist stopped just when he was about to connect with his face again.

"Let's not mess with your face. A cutie like you, down there ... I think you'll have your ass full of cock from your first day as a recycled servant."

Dion's heart sank. There was no turning back then. Antoine had to vent off his frustration somehow. 

"No, please," he tried to beg.

"Not this time, Dion. I'm going to tell master I've grown bored with you. I won't even make up anything. I'll just ask him to send you away, 'cause I can't stand your face anymore."

He doubted he had tears left to cry. But they came unbound, nonetheless, while Antoine laughed and pushed him away.

*****

Author's Note:

Hey, guys, thank you so much for all the wonderful comments and suggestions! There were some really crazy ideas there! I love it! A threesome between Ayn, Cory and Lucas ... so hawt! Yet, I believe Lucas is kind of an exclusive guy; what can I say? He just doesn't want to share his lover. Having Cory take Ayn's virginity away, before Xavier could get there. Sneaky! But let's have Xavier play the almighty a little more ... I promise you, he won't go unpunished.

Nanobot, as always, you surprise me with your highly educated guesses and you flatter me. While I have my characters speak to me and act as they seem to like, you even have an explanation for their behavior ... which is awesome. Cannd, thanks a lot for all your input, it's so great to see people getting so involved with my little story. DreamToCome, if I'll manage to turn this into a book, I'll let you guys know. 

There is so much to say, but I don't want you all to end up reading more my ramblings than the actual story, so please, please, with sugar on top, keep them ideas and thoughts and comments coming! Just make a little writer happy!



A Good Servant Ch. 09



The monotonous sound of the large truck moving was lulling him into sleep. He had no notion of how many hours had passed since he'd been sent out from his former master's house and shipped to be taken who knew where. 

The grey clothes he wore felt like a rash against his skin. The boots were a bit too large, as well. It was like Dion was given a new life, along with a new uniform, that didn't agree well with him. He kept his head down. It was too dark to look at his companions. No one was talking, despair and pain too deep for that. A small thought traveled his mind, like a shooting star, that he was not even going to remember the faces of those riding with him in the old truck. 

Suddenly, the truck halted, a sign that they must have arrived at their destination. A loud voice barked at them, and Dion got up along with the rest, waiting patiently in line to descend. No one could say former servants from Drena were not well trained; they knew how to keep in line, how to keep their distance and how to keep their heads down.

A strong hand gripped his elbow and pushed him forward, once he was out. He'd barely noticed that he'd stopped, suddenly aware that the air he was breathing felt foreign, as if there was a totally different world situated outside the gates of Drena.

Yet, the gentle sea breeze felt warm against his skin, as it had felt back home. He moved along, as the man guiding them barked another order. He didn't have the energy to make up the words the man was saying. It only meant one thing; for Dion to obey.

~A Good Servant~

The room felt small, but Dion was glad there were only he and two other people in it. From what he could gather, there were places destined for sleeping much larger, where dozens were forced to live. He went to sleep and let the world fade away. There was always another day tomorrow.

~A Good Servant~

Ayn examined the stores as they went by. Cory was explaining a lot of stuff with the speed of lighting and he was too amazed with the richness of the place to pay too much attention. The servant helped him try out some new clothes and even encouraged him to pick a few he truly liked.

"It's ok, it's on his tab," Cory winked at him, and Ayn smiled back. He was speaking very little, aware that he was supposed to be an ignorant savage slave with no knowledge of the language.

The store they stopped at proved very interesting to Ayn. He let Cory go speak with the store manager for some decorative knives Xavier wanted and he began exploring the weapons on display. As the servant was vividly bargaining with the shopkeeper, he quickly grabbed the one thing that had truly caught his eye. The servant was still turned with his back to Ayn. Maybe it was for the best if Cory didn't know just everything.

~A Good Servant~

Xavier's heart was filled with joy as he turned back home. He had Lucas's friendship back -- sort of - , he had Ayn, and everything was working like a charm in his book.

Cory welcomed him with the same smile on his beautiful face.

"How was your day?" he asked, as the servant took his coat.

"I took Ayn shopping. He loved it," Cory said excitedly. "I let him choose some of the outfits. I hope they will please you, Master."

Yes, he very much wanted to see Ayn wearing beautiful clothes. Not that he didn't prefer the slave naked, his exotic beauty more valuable and interesting than the softest fabric made in Drena's factories. He felt a sudden, urgent need to see the slave. 

"Where is he?" he demanded, a bit abruptly.

"He is in his room. Should I put the table, Master?"

"Not right now," Xavier waved his hand, and went by Cory to reach Ayn's room, making the servant wonder of his unusual behavior.

He entered without knocking. Ayn turned, with a small frown on his face. Xavier missed how the slave had looked quite startled of his sudden appearance. He just took the brunet in his arms and kissed him deeply.

"I've thought of you the entire day," he whispered against moist lips, when he had to cut the kiss short, so they could breathe. 

Unlike many other times before, the slave grabbed his head and drew him in for a kiss on his own accord. Xavier barely refrained from gasping at his prized slave's forward determination. Maybe Ayn was starting to like him. 

He massaged round buttocks through the thin fabric of the tight blue pants Ayn was wearing. "I wish I could use you right now," he mumbled as he freed his mouth only to nibble down on a graceful neck. "But Cory will be mad if we do not eat first," he added, and reluctantly let Ayn go. 

The slave took his hand and guided him out of the room. No matter how strange that seemed, Xavier didn't care. He followed, feeling suddenly at peace, being directed like that, in his own home, where no one ever dared doing that. 

~A Good Servant~

Ayn let out a breath, once he was back in his room. He checked under the bed. The gun was secured, strapped to one of the massive legs. It had been a close call; Xavier was really starting to get too many liberties. He stopped for a second, to caress the contour of the weapon; its solidity made him feel safe. It was made his heart fill with anticipation, and that he had to rein in, if he wanted to succeed in his plans.

Until then, he had to make nice to Xavier. He knew what was going to happen as soon as the night would come; but he did not find it in him to feel dread. It was not indifference what he felt, either.

He shook his head. He was not like that. The damn place was rubbing onto himself, making him weak and self indulgent. So what if Xavier was kissing him like no girlfriend had ever done it? It didn't mean anything. Not his kisses, not the feeling he got in his gut, when he was thinking about how the man was going to take him once again.

When Cory called for him to shower, he was as prepared as he could ever be to face Xavier.

~A Good Servant~

Xavier's long caresses were making his skin catch fire. At Cory's insistence, he had brought a few outfits to show his master. Apparently, Xavier found it more exciting to take Ayn out of them than seeing him dressed. 

He was a bit too daring to do that, but besides the tight, see through clothes Cory had insisted on getting, he also brought along one of the outfits he'd chosen. 

As he stopped in the middle of the room, dressed in blue jeans, combat boots and a tight black t-shirt, he waited for Xavier's reaction. He pulled the black leather jacket on, too, and then smirked and challenged his master with his eyes.

There was something unreadable in grey eyes, as Xavier was inspecting him without a word. He wasn't hurrying to take Ayn out of his clothes this time around, either. 

"They ... fit you well," Xavier murmured, mostly to himself.

Of course they did. This was how he'd used to dress as a free man. Xavier finally got up and reached Ayn. Pulling at the lapels of the black leather jacket, the master dragged his slave in for a kiss. Hungry hands did not try to undress the beautiful body. Instead, Xavier glued himself to Ayn and breathed in the brunet's scent, burying his head for a moment at the hollow between neck and shoulder, a mix between the strong leather fragrance and Ayn's personal smell making him lightheaded. 

There was a moment there, a window of opportunity Ayn didn't want to miss. He let his hands travel to his master's sides, brushing over the small of the man's back. Xavier was wearing nothing but loose black silk pajama pants. Bold hands reached lower and lower, until they cupped Xavier's ass. 

There was a small grunt of acknowledgment from Xavier, as he realized what Ayn was doing. He straightened his head, and their eyes clashed. Ayn's dark pools weren't asking for permission. 

"You're assuming too much," Xavier suddenly felt angered by the proud, know-it-all look in his slave's eyes.

He pushed the jacket down briskly, forcing the slave out of it. 

"Undress," he ordered harshly, ignoring that the slave could not really understand him. "Undress," he repeated, while grabbing the hem of the t-shirt and yanking it up.

The slave finally seemed to understand, and he proceeded to undress himself. 

"I'll have Cory burn these," Xavier said through his teeth, as the heap of clothes was gathered at the brunet's feet.

Ayn's eyes grew darker. Xavier pushed him on the bed, this time with his face down. The slave closed his eyes. All the need to react, to grab the man by the throat and force him down, had to be quenched. Tensed hands parted his buttocks, and something cold was poured over his hole. Too soon, there was the blunt head he loathed against his hole, and Xavier pushed inside in one go, angrily.

Ayn bit his lip through. He was not going to give the fucker the satisfaction to hear him scream in pain. 

Xavier's heart throbbed painfully in his chest, as he took his slave in short, punishing strokes. For a short moment, he'd felt at peace, happy, in Ayn's arms. That had never happened before; not like this. 

This sort of happiness was a luxury he could not afford. For the most powerful master in Drena, letting another gain importance like this was unheard of. He felt scared; the balance had to be restored, and taking Ayn like this, humiliating him, was the only way. 

Ayn had tasted of freedom. He had to ask Cory to really burn those clothes. Ayn as a captive was exhilarating, more than any man he'd ever brought to bed; Ayn as a free man was addictive like crack, and dangerous like it. One taste and he could have been hooked. He'd dodged the bullet just in time.

~A Good Servant~

Dion pushed his hair inside the hard helmet, frustrated at how red strands still spilled over. The same grey clothes and large boots seemed to be the uniform needed to work at the factory. He wondered absently whether there was a place they could shower.

There was a short ride from their sleeping quarters to the factory. The building stood tall and grey and menacing. The only sound that could be heard in the chilly morning was the shuffling of boots through the mud, as the workers headed for their shift. 

He was all eyes and ears during the orientation that all new workers had to go through. Manipulating the heavy machinery used for training seemed easy, and the man in charge, an older guy in his 40s, commended his ability to learn so fast. He smiled curtly. It looked like people here weren't that bad, after all.

The work seemed tedious and boring, and it put a strain on Dion's arms after a while. He was indeed grateful when the perfunctory sound of a bell announced them that it was time to take a break to have lunch.

He had yet to talk to anyone, so he searched the cantina room for a quiet place, to sit with his tray in his hands. He noticed a tall dark man sitting in a corner. The guy like he liked his privacy, too. Dion wasn't going to impose on that. 

As he sat at a table not far away, he started chewing slowly while watching the other as he ate. He could not really say what had drawn him to that man. There was certainty in his moves, short and efficient, as he tore just the right amount of bread needed for each bite. People inside Drena walls were all exquisitely beautiful. Dion doubted he'd ever seen a man like the one he was inspecting right now. He hadn't paid any attention to his co-workers, but there was a peacefulness radiating from the man like he'd never seen before. 

He could not see the man's eyes; they were probably darker than his skin. The guy looked strong, even if he was not bulky or too brawny. Dion's eyes traveled over the hard planes of the man's face; they were harsh, like cut from sterner stuff, like the rest of his being. But he was not unpleasant to look at. Dion just stood there, his spoon still in his hand, forgetting that he should been eating.

The man's eyes rose from his plate and clashed with Dion's warm brown ones. His expression remained unreadable, and Dion, suddenly flustered, shook his head and tried to focus back on his food. 

He felt someone taking a seat next to him and turned to see a man in his 30s watching him with intent.

"You're a pretty thing," the man spoke. "Are you spoken for?"

"W-what?" he stammered.

"Do you have a partner yet?" the man insisted, frowning slightly.

"It's my first day," Dion said in his defense.

"Ah," the man said shortly. "Mind if I eat next to you?"

"Not at all," Dion said politely.

Not one minute passed and another man approached their table. He nodded to the other and looked straight at Dion.

"We got a good looking one in our section this round," he spoke, although he wasn't speaking to Dion.

"It was about time," the first one replied. 

Dion felt apprehension growing in his gut. Antoine's words came to mind. Was he going to get raped? Maybe killed afterwards? These men looked strong and harsh, not the type to mess with. He made himself little in his chair. 

"It's his first day," the first one spoke again.

"Ah," said the other. "Let's let him adjust a little."

They continued to eat in silence. Dion felt a lump growing in his throat and he could not swallow anymore. As his eyes rose, he met the guy's stare from his corner. This time, his eyes looked as the man was disgusted for some reason.

~A Good Servant~

"Your name is Dion, right?" the foreman asked, while crossing his fingers over the wooden desk and looking at the redhead over his glasses.

Dion doubted he'd done anything wrong, but he was prepared to be punished. There were probably rules of the place he could not yet understand. Like the strange behavior of those workers who had sit next to him during lunch.

"You're pretty," the older man commented, with no trace of emotion in his voice, like he was saying Dion was a cow supposed to give x liters of milk.

The redhead squirmed a little. What was that supposed to mean?

"I don't need fighting in my section, do you hear me?" the man said sternly.

"Fighting? I won't get in any fight," Dion eventually managed to articulate a few words in his defense. 

The foreman looked at him, as if he was about to ask the former servant what kind of stupid was Dion taking him for.

"Pick one fast, or else they'll start fighting over your ass," the man slammed some files on his desk, as if he was trying to make a point.

Dion almost jumped from his chair. The foreman let out a frustrated sigh.

"They should really be telling you a few things before unloading you on our hands. Former servants sent here," he started, as if he felt strained to tell the same text over and over again, "draw immediate attention. There are two choices: either you pick a partner, or you pick all."

"Am I going to get raped?" Dion let out, without even thinking. There had been too much strain on his mind to think clearly.

"We punish such behavior," the foreman spoke, annoyed with the interruption. "It happens very rarely, so you should not be that concerned with that."

"How could I not?" the redhead mumbled. Images of his first time, when Antoine had had over a dozen slaves fuck him, came to mind. It had felt like it was never going to end. No crying and begging had been enough; if anything, the slaves had seemed more turned on by his cries.

"Anyone caught raping another is punished by death," the foreman spelled it for him, as if he was hardheaded. 

The man rose from his chair and took a look out the window. "Come here," he told Dion and the redhead approached cautiously. 

"See the one there?" the foreman pointed out a nice looking guy, without a helmet on his blonde head. He was smoking and seemingly waiting. In just a few seconds, another man appeared and went straight to him. The blond kissed him shortly then got on his knees, unbuckling the man's pants with efficient moves. Dion watched, without daring to make a sound, as the blond blew the guy. As the man straightened his pants, the redhead saw how he gave the blond something. The beautiful one slipped the object in his pants, and then returned to his smoking.

"We have good, hard working guys here. Of course, no one is fond of losing his head. The blond there? He decided he wanted the attention, so anyone who wants to have him, comes here during breaks."

"What did the man give him?" Dion asked, not knowing why that aspect mattered.

"A lighter, most probably. He is fond of his smoking and he collects lighters. Others just give him money."

More men appeared as the foreman spoke. The blond just dropped his pants and turned to face the wall. The guys waited in line, patiently, while each took turns at the blond's ass. The blond only turned a little, each time one man finished, to get his gift or pay and slide them in his pockets.

Dion felt disgusted to watch. The foreman looked bored. He shifted from one foot to another. The older man shook his head.

"Are you really afraid I'm going to jump your bones, kid? Now, go back to your chair, and think. What's going to be? This or that?"

Dion sat gingerly on the chair. "What if I don't want either?" he eventually asked. 

The foreman ran his hands through his receding hair. "Then you'll give me a lot of work. If you're too much trouble, I may have to ask for you to be moved."

"Moved where?"

The man shrugged. "There are places. Since you don't want to be touched, you may as well just show the goods."

Dion's eyes were big as saucers. "Will I be forced into prostitution?"

"You're misinterpreting, again. Strip clubs, that's what they are. You'll work the night shift, and dance on tables. If anyone touches you, well, that's up to the bouncer to protect you. Anyway, you won't be my trouble anymore. For some reason, though, all the guys sent there, true, the prettier ones, start selling their ass, too. I guess it's no fun just to let guys drool over you."

Dion could only guess what the foreman didn't care to tell him.

"How much time do I have?" he murmured.

"The sooner you decide, the better. Now out of my office. You've taken enough of my time."

~A Good Servant~

Dion felt his chest constricting. What he was going to do? It was not like Antoine had said, but worse, in a way. He would have to give his consent to let some guy or more pawing him. It was a new type of desperation he was experiencing. Choosing one guy seemed like the right option. Yet, what if the man was going to prove abusive? What if he was going to get someone as bad as Antoine? Men were punished for raping a guy, but what happened with those so called partnerships? And how was he supposed to know he would pick right?

The other thing was out of the question. Dion was not going to live through that again. Being sent away was even worse. What was he going to do?

He was walking a long hallway, his head down, not noticing the group of men approaching.

"Hey, cutie," one voice called and his head snapped up.

Soon enough, he was almost surrounded by five men. His helmet was removed gently from his head, but he felt the need to take a step back.

"Don't be afraid," the man cooed, but he was feeling his heart beating fast, threatening to burst out of his chest.

"Nice hair," one man caught a strand of Dion's red hair and smelled it. 

"Stop scaring him," another pushed the man touching Dion's hair. "Look, baby, we just want to know if you've made your choice yet. If not, we have money. We'd really like a go at you. What do you like? We can bring it to you," the third man tried to sound friendly.

A cold chill was running down Dion's spine. He was supposed to have a little more time. His eyes were running like a scared deer's from one man to another.

"Fucking beautiful," another man commented. "Do you think he's a mute?" he asked the others.

"I'm not mute," he eventually managed. 

"Good. So what do you say?" the first man got a bit closer, invading his personal space.

Dion heard someone approaching. Maybe he could be saved. As his eyes searched for the man coming through, he realized it was the guy he'd seen on the first day eating alone. He did not seem to care for what was happening, though, and he was about to move along, when Dion broke the circle surrounding him and hang on the dark man's arm.




A Good Servant Ch. 09



"I'm already taken," he said, taking everyone by surprise.

Dark eyes stared into his from above, and Dion pleaded without words. 

"What the hell? John, you fucking jerk, why didn't you say anything?" one guy commented. "Since when are you two sworn for?" he asked suspiciously.

The dark man, whose name Dion had just learned was John, disentangled his arm from the redhead's grip, and the former servant felt sick to his stomach. Being exposed as a liar was not going to sit well with anyone. He cast his eyes down, but suddenly felt his shoulders captured by a warm, heavy hand.

"Since yesterday. My darling here is shy," he heard the man talking in a low, full, masculine voice that made him feel at ease. "Now give him his helmet back."

"Yeah, sorry," the first guy handed the helmet to John.

"Did you fuck him yet?" another asked, followed by the others' laughter.

"None of your fucking business. But yeah, and he's great in the sack, and you're having none of it," John threw over his shoulder as he was guiding Dion away from the group, while fixing the helmet on his head.

They were far from the others, when Dion spoke.

"Thank you so much. I had no idea what to do."

The man's arm was still around his shoulders.

"I think I have to go," he said, a bit embarrassed.

"And where do you think you're going?" the man asked, his voice suddenly hard and cold.

"Um, home?" Dion said.

"Then that's where we are both going, darling," the man mocked, and Dion looked suddenly frightened at him. "When you're sworn for, you go live with your partner. From what rock have you crawled here? You're coming home with me."

"But," Dion felt as if suddenly he could not breathe. 

"No buts. You imposed yourself on me like an idiot, now I have to. And, don't worry," the arm slid from his shoulders, "I'm not going to beg for your ass like the assholes over there. Your lot makes me sick."

Dion stood in place, frozen. John's words hit him like a ton of bricks. But it was what he wanted, right? He didn't want to be touched.

"What are you doing, standing there like that?" the man spat, annoyed. "The princess feels affronted? Suck it, buttercup," he continued, while taking Dion's by the sleeve and dragging him to make him move.

~A Good Servant~

He had to plan well. The memories of being taken so hard by Xavier were making his insides turn and his jaw clench so hard that he almost could not breathe. The guy was an asshole, the worst kind, and Ayn wanted out as fast as possible.

He had to put on a front, too. After the episode when he'd tried to make a move on his master, Xavier had tried to be gentler. Cory hadn't burned the clothes, either. But all that didn't mean that Ayn wasn't hurt. Any ambivalent feelings he might have had for the guy, they were now turning into pure hatred. He wasn't going to sit down and take it like a stupid bitch. 

"Cory," he cautiously approached the servant, "I really think I should take a hike."

The servant's bright beautiful eyes searched his. "You're not yet prepared. It's not like you can waltz out of Drena, just like that."

"Why not?" he shrugged. "It doesn't look like there's much security around," his mind traveled to how easy it had been to palm that gun from the store visited together with Cory.

"Don't you think they'll ask you? At the gates?" Cory looked troubled.

"I'll think of something," the expression in Ayn's dark eyes was determined. "We need to plan, though. I don't want you involved in this. We need to make it look like I escaped ... and you couldn't stop me, or something."

Cory seemed to ponder for a while. "Then I'll think you'll have to tie me up. And hit me," the servant said calmly, and Ayn's eyes grew wide.

"Why the fuck should I hit you?"

"I must be absolved of any guilt. Losing you while shopping, or letting you out because you just threatened me won't do. I can face execution for it," Cory continued, and Ayn frowned. 

"It would not be your fault. Is this what you're facing? If I'm leaving?"

"If you incapacitate me, then they cannot hold anything against me. Playing the victim, as my part of the deal, is the only way."

"Really, Cory, I could not hit you, what the hell ..." Ayn murmured. 

The servant came close to him and embraced him tightly. Ayn caressed the blond head. Cory was just too good for the world he was living in.

"How about leaving with me?" he said all of a sudden.

Blue eyes stared at him, a small glint of hope in then. Right away, they shut down. "I couldn't. Lucas ... he's here."

"Yes, of course," Ayn caressed the servant's shoulders with affection.

"I know ..." Cory hesitated for a second, but quickly continued. "I know that he will get bored one day. But I've never dreamed of living a long life, so what's the worse in making the best of what you have? He's everything I've ever dreamed of and more."

"What's with these ideas?" Ayn felt uncomfortable. "It's not like you'll die without him."

"People down there, working the factories, they don't live long."

"Why? Is it that hard?"

Cory shook his head, suddenly pensive. "No, work is hard, but manageable. People ... they just don't reach a certain age. It's like they hit a wall and die."

"That's fucking strange," Ayn mumbled. "No exceptions?"

"Not many. Guys in their 40s are a rarity. And, strangely enough, they are the ones in management positions. The rest ... it's like they are expendables."

Ayn felt a cold chill running down his spine. "This is a fucking strange place. Now that I come to think of it, there are no old people inside the city, either."

"You're right," Cory admitted. "Yet, death does not seem to be a presence here. I should ask Lucas about it."

"Or not," Ayn said, more fiercely than he intended. "Don't forget, Cory. He's practically one of them. He may be kind to you, but can you really tell what he would do if you get too curious?"

Cory shook his head. Ayn had a point, but Lucas? He could not hide anything from him, and he was quite certain Lucas would not lie to him, either. Their encounters were usually torrid ones, and they spoke little to one another. How much he really knew the man?

~A Good Servant~

Dion had to admit that he liked what he saw. John's place looked tidy and clean. Apparently, the man had his own small barracks, even if it did not stand out that much from the rest. 

"This is the kitchen, the bathroom, and the bedroom," the man presented him the layout. "The hall at the entrance serves as a living room, too."

"You have a nice house. I didn't know the barracks could have so many rooms," Dion expressed his admiration.

"They don't. I built the interior walls," the man said curtly, and Dion stared at him, nothing short of amazement in his hazel eyes.

John didn't spare him a glance. 

"Help yourself to the fridge. There is plenty of food. I'm going to take a shower," he spoke quickly, efficiently and disappeared in the bathroom.

Dion took a look in the refrigerator. There were enough ingredients for at least a generous omelet so he decided for the quick dish. Later on, he would have to create a menu, but right now there were pressing matters like rambling stomachs to tend to. He could bet John was hungry, too.

He had the table laid out by the time the man came out of the shower. He looked a bit younger, out of his factory clothes, and dressed in some soft flannel outfit. He was still massive, making the small kitchen look even smaller, as he sat at the table.

"I didn't ask you to cook for me," he commented sourly, although Dion could tell he was eyeing the loaded plate.

"We started on the wrong foot. This is the least I can do," Dion spoke. 

"Wrong foot, eh?" John seemed amused, but he dug into his plate without a word and Dion joined him.

They ate in silence. Dion rose and picked up the dishes. 

"You don't have to play servant here. I'm not your master," the man spoke on a lower tone.

Dion looked into the dark eyes. A rebellious strand of black hair was almost glued to the tall forehead. It made John look at bit more ... without thinking, the redhead rose his hand and pushed the strand to the side. 

The man flinched from the touch. "What kind of game do you think you're playing?" he rose angrily.

"I'm not playing anything," Dion breathed out. It looked like he was walking on eggshells, no matter what he was doing.

"Yes, you are. You just got here and you're playing house."

Dion cast his eyes down. "I apologize. It's everything I know."

"Oh, really? You don't know anything else?" the man's voice sounded dangerous, as he approached Dion, invading his private space.

"Like what?"

"I don't know," John got even closer. "You Drena whores only know how to wrap men around your fingers, don't you?"

Dion blushed and suddenly felt angered. "I am not a whore," he said through his teeth, as he pushed John aside. 

He needed air. His arm was caught and John pulled him back.

"Is this your act to make me beg to have you? It won't work, princess," he said menacingly. 

"It's no act. I would not dream of having the likes of you touch me," Dion spat, and regretted his words right away.

John released his arm, as if he'd been burned. 

"Alright, then. Make yourself at home," he said mockingly. "Just stay out of my way, as much as possible. You can take the bedroom, I'll have the couch."

Dion could not stop the feeling of dread washing over him, as John slammed the door to head to the so called living room. He really had no idea how to handle the man.

~A Good Servant~

"There seems to be a lot of things on your mind lately," Lucas kissed Cory's shoulder gently, making the young man shudder and lean into the other male.

"It's nothing. Just a bit tired, I think," the servant said right away. 

Lucas did not believe a thing. But it was too tempting to just bury himself in Cory's body, as he let all the weariness of the day wash away and only enjoy the feeling of having the one he adored so much in his arms, pliant under his touch.

~A Good Servant~

"Damn, that hurt," Cory commented, working his jaw.

"You fucking asked for it," Ayn said exasperatedly. "I think you'll have a nice bruise, though," he grinned.

"Jerk," Cory stuck out his tongue, but let himself tied to the chair with the improvised ropes Ayn had made from some clothes. 

"Do you think you can play the fool?" Ayn asked, concern visible in his eyes.

"I think I'm pretty good at it," Cory said proudly, although an unsettling thought was nagging him, reminding him how Lucas was poking him for info he did not care sharing.

"Alright, then, all set," Ayn added, admiring his handiwork. He pulled a bit at Cory's clothes, until he ripped the fabric. 

Cory giggled. "You fucking look too good like that," Ayn commented playfully. 

They laughed, but, like on cue, they both stopped and shared a long, meaningful look. 

"I guess this is goodbye or something," Ayn said embarrassed.

"Yes," Cory admitted.

"We may not see each other again," Ayn added.

"I think so," Cory nodded.

Ayn closed the distance and embraced the young servant awkwardly. 

"You should go," Cory whispered, not wanting to show how much Ayn's departure meant to him. It had been bad enough to learn about Dion being sent to the factories outside the city gates. Now he was losing another friend.

~A Good Servant~

He had no reason to go home at that hour, but Xavier thought the break was going to do him good, even if he was just going to spend half an hour with Ayn and Cory. The slave was still mad at him, for the incident from that day, so he had to tread lightly around him. He was quite certain he was going to win Ayn over again, despite that unfortunate mishap.

As he entered the house, he frowned. It was unusual for his penthouse to be so quiet. Cory should have been at the door right away. 

"Cory," he called and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Ayn standing right in front of him, dressed like that day.

There was something odd about his slave. Xavier's eyes traveled to the brunet's right hand and froze. Blood ran to his feet.

Ayn raised the weapon casually. "TRK-106," he commented with dark glee in his voice, startling Xavier.

In a second, he was all over the master of the house, with the barrel of the gun resting right under the man's chin.

"I doubt I should explain to you what it can do," Ayn whispered.

"Who are you?" Xavier managed to talk. 

"Do you really have to ask, Master?" Ayn mocked. "I am Ayn, your personal, dear slave."

"Did you kill Cory?"

Ayn chuckled. "He'll live. I guess. Now, onto more pressing matters. I heard you ride a fucking awesome car. I really want to see that. Move."

"What do you think you can do? The moment we are out this door ..." Xavier spoke, as Ayn turned him unceremoniously and pushed the gun onto his side.

"... we will walk right to your car, we'll get inside, and you will drive me out of this shithole. If anyone's asking, we're out for a bit of a stroll."

"You won't get away with this," Xavier spoke. 

"Just watch me. Care for a trip to the wild side, Xavier?"

For a brief moment, Ayn's hot breath touched Xavier's cheek. He only had to touch his right hand with the left and search for the panic button on his silver bracelet. But as quickly as the thought came, it flew away.

Xavier opened the door, and let Ayn guide him outside. For the first time in his life, something totally unpredictable was about to happen.

In the dark, helpless witness to the angry conversation in the hallways, Cory felt his insides turn. What are you doing, Ayn?

Author's Note: So, dear readers, I hope I managed to surprise you once more. There is more to come for all the boys, and I hope you are enjoying the trip as much as I do. Will Cory be able to hide the truth from Lucas? Where is Ayn taking Xavier? How is Dion going to adjust to his new life? Don't think I have all the answers. Despite the outline I have in front of me, the guys just tend to jump off the page and whisper crazy things into my ear.

Now, for the good people who cared about leaving reviews. Cannd, your comments on Xavier's intentions in regards to letting Cory go to Lucas were spot on; the way things will progress between Ayn and Xavier is still on the deciding route. Will they fall in love? I certainly do hope so. :) Nanobot, I am so glad to have found a reader so shrewd to understand what a writer goes through. For gayTopher, those words just made me blush ...

For the Anon speaking about punishment and forgiveness, I truly believe in the association of the two, as well. But getting there has to be fun right? I am glad that another reader finds my story hot, even if not for the sex.

Some crazy kinky ideas were shared by another anonymous reviewer ... yet, I have a hunch I still manage to come off the left field, and throw the story into turmoil again. That thing with Antoine ... haven't thought about it, but yeah, Antoine has to be taught some manners too. What to do ...

And finally for Chris from Italy, since my email bounced back for some reason, just a few words - I know how things between Cory and Lucas look at this point, but this is the beginning of new love, and, as with any relationship, things may tend to look perfect during the first encounters, as the participants do not have the time - or the inclination - to notice the other's flaws. In a world dominated by perversions and sex as currency - slaves are used and in exchange they receive comfort and security from their masters - wouldn't a 'normal' relationship seem out of the norm? Things are not - yet - set in stone for the two. There will be progression involving other characters that will shake them, as well. I hope you will see what I mean as the story continues.

Thanks everyone and tons of hugs!



A Good Servant Ch. 10



"From the start. Again," the trainer's voice sounded even and void of any emotion.

Cory kept his serene façade and began again to retell the story. How he had come back to the apartment, it had been dark, he had been hit and then tied up. No, he had no idea what happened. The slave? He had left him at home to go shopping, as he had to ready the dinner for that night. No, he had not heard anything. Yes, his master had had to be home around that time. 

They kept on asking him the same questions, to tire him. He was not stupid. He knew they only hoped for him to make a mistake, to forget a detail, or misplace something. It was like the trainers had forgotten he had been trained at the Institution. Molded by it. There, no one could have any secrets. Those who had..., well, he could say fate was not kind to them.

So he continued to retell the story, careful not to miss anything. He knew that they wanted him to say something wrong, to find him guilty. Then, it would have been nothing but a formality to lock him down or worse, start to run an investigation to find Xavier, and close the case. At least as far as Cory was concerned. The guilty one being found, everyone could go back home. After that, there was no way of telling what could happen. Ayn and Xavier had to be very, very far away by now.

His legs were starting to ache, but he continued to keep his cool. He had lost count of how many times he had told the story. Words were starting to lose their meaning, and he had to focus hard on each and every one.

At some point, one of the trainers got up from the chair and went to the back. There was a short break, during which the remaining two whispered something to one another. Minutes passed, until eventually the first trainer came back with someone. 

Cory's face fell for a split second. Green eyes were measuring him up and down, as Lucas took a seat.

"Lord Lucas, should we listen again so we can reach a verdict?" the trainer asked, turning towards Cory's lover. "You know the servant better than anyone else. And you are Chief Psychologist."

Was he going to stand there and retell the same story, with Lucas's inquisitive eyes searching for any sign of lying?

"No, I've heard enough," Lucas answered, but he did not look at the trainer, but continued to keep his eyes glued to Cory. "He's telling the truth. I am afraid this is a dead end. We need to seek for additional information. I've seen the recording from the gate cameras. It appears Lord Xavier left Drena yesterday at 17 hundred hours, accompanied by his slave."

"We need to see the tape, too," the trainer said, looking a bit offended that he had not been informed.

"We need to analyze the new data," Lucas said, seemingly not impressed with the trainer's displeasure. "Since there is nothing to gain from this," he gestured towards Cory, "I highly recommend the investigation committee to move forward."

"So, the final verdict?" the trainer turned to his papers to make an annotation.

"Servant Cory tells the truth. He is not involved in Lord Xavier's kidnapping."

"Kidnapping?" the trainer stopped for a second, his pen in the air, as if he had been struck by a sudden, intriguing revelation.

"Yes, I believe this is the right term. Dismiss the servant," Lucas said.

"He will be released into your service, will he not, Lord Lucas?" another trainer spoke, and Lucas turned towards him, vaguely annoyed.

"Yes, Xavier entitled me to take care of his belongings, servants and slaves included, in case of an unfortunate event. Let's hope," Lucas paused for dramatic effect, "that this is only temporary, and the event in itself is nothing but a big misunderstanding. We all hope to bring Lord Xavier back home."

The trainers rose to leave. They looked like dark grey shadows, moving without a sound, as they left the room. Lucas rose and looked at Cory with something unreadable in his beautiful eyes.

"Am I free to go?" Cory eventually dared asking.

He had been calm and steady all throughout the interrogation. Now, under Lucas's intense gaze, he felt sweat oozing through all his pores. Lucas didn't answer; he just moved slowly, stopping for a brief moment by Cory's side.

"You're lying," Lucas said curtly, in a cold whisper, and Cory froze.

One full minute passed after Lucas left and until he could move again. He had fooled the trainers, but he could not fool Lucas.

~A Good Servant~

Xavier was driving for hours now. Vast nothingness was in front of his eyes, no clue, no landmark to cling his eyes on as they rode through the desert.

"Do you at least have an idea where we are going?" he asked haughtily, although he was hoping for an answer this time around.

No matter how much he had tried to speak to Ayn since they had left Drena, the only replies he had gotten were short grunts and indications to continue to drive. 

"Of course I do. I'm not the stupid monkey you thought I was," Ayn commented. 

It was not the best answer to hope for, but at least it was something.

"I've never thought you to be a stupid monkey. Merely ... uneducated."

Ayn snorted. 

"The road seems long. At least you could do is offer some conversation," Xavier commented. 

"Conversation?" Ayn snickered, obviously amused. "Yeah, no one could say we had that much of that. You were too busy fucking my ass."

"I thought you could not understand anything I was saying," Xavier felt the need to explain. Although, he was ready to admit Ayn was right, in that particular regard.

"What difference would that have made?" Ayn shrugged.

"None, of course," Xavier shrugged, pursing his lips. 

"Good. At least, you're honest."

"Don't mind me asking, but where are you taking me? And do you really think I will disappear in thin air, without armies" Xavier paused to make the not so well veiled threat understood, "being sent to find me, and of course, exact the punishment in your case." 

Ayn just smiled, and looked ahead, as if the road was his friend, and Xavier was a fool to even speak of them being found, let alone think it to be true.

The brunet looked even more beautiful, with the rays of the fading sun playing on his face through the car window. He also looked a bit different. There was an energy radiating from him. Suddenly, Xavier realized. It was something he had never witnessed in his slave. It was happiness. Ayn was happy to be free. 

"Technically, you are the one driving, so your question? It's a bit off, don't you think?" Ayn turned a little to stare at him.

For a couple of seconds, they looked at one another. Ayn frowned. "Keep your fucking eyes on the road."

There was more silence. Xavier continued. Going forward, as Ayn had indicated. 

"Are you wondering if I am going to sell you back to your friends in Drena?" Ayn was the first to speak.

"That's one thought. It would wise of you. Although ... more than a bit risky for you," Xavier admitted.

"It could be done. I suppose you would fetch a nice price. Much higher than what you paid for me."

"If you want to know, I paid quite a lot for you," Xavier commented.

Ayn puffed. "That's not something I want to know."

"Alright. So, are you going to negotiate my release then?" 

"I said that's one thought. I didn't say I would do it."

"What are the other options, then?" Xavier straightened one of his gloves quickly, a bit annoyed at the patch of skin showing just above the sleeve.

"Worried about your safety, Master?" Ayn mocked. "Are you afraid I would kill you and bury you here, in the desert, without all the bells and whistles of a Drena funeral?"

"There are no funerals in Drena," Xavier said curtly.

"You're shitting me, right?" Ayn stretched his legs, placing them on the headboard. "You're like immortal and shit?"

"No."

"Anyways, what do you think of this little option?" Ayn spoke. "How would you like feeling powerless for a change?"

"I hope you don't expect me to say I would like that. As any human being, I am very much fond of my life. And I would prefer it not to end anytime soon. Plus, that would put you an even more dangerous position than you are now. At least, while I'm alive, ... let's say you have some sort of ... reprieve."

"Fair enough," Ayn nodded. "But you are a pretty mean bastard. Which means you should suffer a bit."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Xavier asked with a bit of trepidation starting to pool in his upper belly, while showing none of it. 

"It means that I am taking you home. What will happen next, I'll have to think about it. If I haven't thought already," Ayn added enigmatically.

Xavier looked at the brunet briefly. He looked content, in control. Something Xavier used to be, just several hours prior. Or so he thought.

~A Good Servant~

Dion knocked hesitantly on the door. Hearing no sound of acknowledgment from the other room, he insisted. Still nothing. Eventually, he turned the knob and entered the room. John was watching TV, a sour expression on his face.

"I knocked," Dion said matter-of-factly.

"I know, I am not deaf," John said, a bit exasperated.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Maybe because I didn't want you to come here. What? Are you displeased with the accommodations? Tough luck, this isn't Drena," John continued without even looking at Dion.

"Alright. Who took a shit in your food?" Dion asked, a bit annoyed. He was usually tame, but this John guy was hitting a nerve with his attitude.

"Wow, I didn't know your type knows words like that," John mocked. "Look, princess ..."

"My name is not 'princess'. My name is Dion."

"No shit. My house, my rules."

"Like hell," Dion retorted. 

It was not like him to talk back. After the beatings he had gotten from Antoine, one would have thought he had learned his lesson well.

But he was not afraid of John. It was strange to think such a thing, but since they had gotten inside John's home and sat together at a table, he had not felt threatened, not even for a second. John looked upset, but not angered. He looked strong, but not violent. Dion could not pinpoint the feeling he got inside when looking at the man. 

"Alright, enough talking," John rose and grabbed Dion by the arm.

He was not forceful and he was not keeping Dion too tightly. But he was determined as he pushed the redhead through the door and closed it behind him, almost slapping Dion's ass in the progress.

Dion felt the sudden need to just turn and tell the guy a thing or two. But he resigned for the moment and went to the bedroom to sleep. Then it hit him, what he had wanted to tell John; that the bed in the bedroom was too large for him, and the couch in the living room could have been better for Dion's smaller frame.

Ah, well, the annoying jerk had just earned himself a bad night's sleep. 

~A Good Servant~

Dread was too little a word to describe what Cory felt as he sat foot in Lucas's house, this time not as a guest, or a lover, but as property. He had a distinct knowledge that Lucas was going to run his own interrogation and it was not going to go down too well.

He went directly to the kitchen to prepare food. He needed something to do with his hands to calm the turmoil in his head. Could he tell Lucas the truth? What was going to happen to him after that? Was Lucas going to give up on him? Just like that? Apparently, there was not much between them anyway. Except for sex. Great sex. The type that felt as if it meant more. Whatever that was supposed to mean. 

He was about to dress the table when he heard the front door. He stopped dead in his tracks. Lucas appeared in the door frame and stared at him.

He could not make what Lucas meant with that look. It was not inquisitive, not that much, at least, it was not hurt, although he could feel the air strung as a thread between them.

"You belong to me now," Lucas eventually spoke, as he moved towards the servant.

Cory nodded. He cast his eyes down. Strong, firm hands, hands he knew well now, cupped his cheeks and made him look up. His lips were captured in a fierce kiss, and Cory felt lost. Could it be that Lucas was not mad with his ruse?

A hot tongue was in his mouth, making him dizzy, as large hands cupped his ass and lifted him from the kitchen floor. He could feel Lucas's strong erection through his thin pants and his own rising to meet the challenge.

Suddenly, he was turned, made to bend over the table, while his pants were forced down, over his bubbly butt. He felt air hitting his ass and his breath hitched in his chest. Lucas was not usually so assertive in his desire. He always cared about apologizing if he got carried away. It almost made Cory, each and every time, beg for Lucas to lose control a little. 

What happened took him by surprise. The slap was short, well placed and it stung like hell. It made Cory yelp in distress. 

"So, my little Cory," Lucas spoke, and his voice was now low and dangerous. "How do you dare lying like that?"

"I didn't ... Ouch!" he yelled again, as his other buttock received the same treatment. "Lucas, please ..."

"No," came the short reply. "What happened really with Xavier and Ayn?"

"I don't know ..."

Another slap made him lose his breath. Behind him, Lucas's breath was becoming a bit labored, too. At least, he had to put some work into spanking the servant.

"The truth, Cory, or you won't be able to sit down for a while," Lucas warned.

Cory tried to move, but a hand on his back was keeping him in place. "Please, Master," he begged.

"Don't play that card with me," Lucas spat, and this time, the slap felt more vicious.

Cory was on the point of breaking. It was not because it hurt, although it did; it was because it was Lucas punishing him; and it was because he knew Lucas was right. He was lying.

"If you think this is bad, let me give you the heads up on the plans the trainers had for you, in case I would have told them the truth," Lucas spoke. "They would have cut off your tongue, and then sew your lips so you could choke on your own blood."

Cory felt his knees buckling under him, but again, the firm hand on his ass kept him in place. 

"Should I continue or will you start talking?" Lucas spoke softly this time. 

He hesitated. He had no idea why he was hesitating. Another slap came, and this time Cory just let the tears flow.

"You do realize what I am risking with this. Not a slap on the wrist. Not my career. But my life. I believe you're smart enough to understand what accessory to a crime means," Lucas continued, as his slaps fell on Cory's ass, making the loving mounts redder and redder.

"Stop, please, I'll talk," Cory breathed out.

He had not thought about it. He was putting Lucas in danger. How could he have been so stupid? Suddenly, it looked as if it had been better if you could convince Ayn to stay and adjust to being Xavier's toy. It would have not been such a bad life after all. What was he thinking now? Ayn was a free man. He had to be free!

Lucas caressed the red butt cheeks lovingly. "Speak now, Cory," he cooed.

There was a torrent of words as Cory began to speak. He was going to get executed, but at least he was not taking Lucas with him. At least that he could do. The hand caressing his abused ass didn't stop and didn't waver as he talked.

"Good," Lucas commended him when he finished talking. 

Cory left the man move and walking away. He just stood there, emotionally wasted, his backside hurting like hell. He could not move if he wanted to. But he didn't.

Lucas came back and he felt something cold and pleasant being slowly applied on his ass.

"Are ... are you going to turn me in?" Cory spoke. 

"No, what kind of monster do you think I am?" Lucas asked, as he carefully applied the salve on Cory's butt. 

"Are you going to tell them? Are they going to go after them? Are they going to kill Ayn?" Cory grew more and more agitated.

"No, I am not going to tell them," Lucas said in the same even tone.

He even sounded affectionate. Cory could not understand.

"But ... why? Xavier is your friend ..."

"I believe Xavier is fine where he is. And, if he isn't, it is entirely his choice," Lucas answered.

His ass was feeling much, much better. Cory exhaled, as he felt the hand creeping between his ass cheeks and fingers slowly teasing his hole. He bucked his ass up, wanting more, the safety of the act, the safety of being embraced by Lucas again. The hand descended, touching his balls and cock, stirring the organ back to life. 

"What do you think of this, Cory?" Lucas teased. "Was your punishment uncalled for? Was it too much? I must warn you that it feels better now, but tomorrow it will still hurt. Quite badly. And the day after tomorrow. Then a bit less."

"No, I guess ... I guess I should have not lied to you," Cory said in all honesty, while wiggling his ass to get more of Lucas's hand.

"Good answer, my Cory," Lucas pressed against his back, and turned his head to the side to kiss him. "Now, would you be terribly upset with me if I fucked you?"

"Don't ask. Just take me," Cory whispered, and he was penetrated swiftly, with no other preparation but the little salve that had been pushed inside by Lucas's fingers as he had been teasing him.

Whatever anger Lucas still had inside, it was going away fast. Their coupling was wild, no imposed rhythm, nothing but thrust after thrust, until Cory came all over the kitchen floor, despite feeling his lover stretching him like never before. In turn, Lucas filled him to the brim with his own seed, with a low grunt.

They stood there, both almost dressed up, panting.

"Why ... why do you believe Xavier is fine?" Cory eventually spoke, his voice a bit hoarse from all the crying followed by moans of ecstasy as Lucas had fucked him.

"Because he didn't activate the alarm."

"What alarm?" Cory asked.

"See this?" Lucas's arm moved in front of him, and the sleeve was lifted a bit, for the servant to see the small silver band. "It has a small sensor. Easy to activate through a very simple move, which only Masters know. Anyone else could not. From what you're telling me, Xavier could have done it anytime. I am not going to impose on his choice."

"The bracelet ... can he activate it from anywhere he is? Even if he is very, very far?"

"It has quite a large range. Unless they left the continent ... I suppose he can still activate it."

Lucas rose and dragged Cory up. "I am so sorry for this. But I could not allow you to lie to me. Do you understand?"

Cory rested his head against Lucas's large chest. "I do."

He hesitated for a second, then he asked. "Did you ... enjoy it more than usual?"

"Of course, you showed how much you trust me," Lucas said quickly.

Cory knew there was something else, but didn't press the matter. There was something new about his lover he was learning every day.

~A Good Servant~

They reached the gates of the settlement when it was breaking dawn. As they rode for the entire night, Xavier felt tired, worn to the bone.

"Home, sweet home," Ayn spoke and Xavier looked ahead.

It appeared as everything was made of scraped metal. The walls looked tall and grim, nothing like the beautiful design carved in wood gates guarding his city. 

The gates moved with a loud screech, as Ayn got out of the car and hurried to meet someone coming out. 

"Don't you dare running away," he spat, as he walked away.

Xavier thought for a brief second. He could just turn and leave. Drive away. But there was the small beeping alarm telling him the tank was almost empty, and the sensation in his chest he could not quench that was encouraging him to move forward, to follow Ayn and see what was going to happen next.

Ayn came back and urged him to move the car. Slowly, they were entering Ayn's city.

"What is this place?" Xavier mumbled, mostly to himself, as small buildings, made of the same scrap metal, spread everywhere appeared in front of his eyes. A few men, women and even a few kids, were starting to get out their homes and they were staring at the newcomers.




A Good Servant Ch. 10



"Welcome to Haven," Ayn spoke. "My little corner of paradise," he added smugly, as he let the window down and took his head out to speak to the people passing by and laugh with them. "Now, keep that smart mouth of yours shut, ok?"

Xavier stood in the car after Ayn told him to stop. He watched as Ayn spoke to a few young men, all dressed almost in the same fashion as his former slave. They were all stealing glances in Xavier's direction, and he could bet they were asking what was up with him.

Ayn came to the car and opened the door.

"Come, out," he gestured and Xavier executed.

He had no idea he could feel so much peace inside to let himself in someone else's hands. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't keep his head high as he got out of the car. Ayn grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him along.

"So, that's him?" one of the guys asked. 

"He's fucking gorgeous," a younger man commented and they all laughed.

"Hands off, he's mine," Ayn said and Xavier felt the sensation in his chest growing warmer. 

"He'd be good to sell back to those Drena fuckers," an older one spoke this time, seemingly annoyed with the attention the stranger was getting.

"No," Ayn said sternly. "I said he's mine," he added, as he looked at the others with something fierce in his eyes.

Xavier stared at his ex slave. It all seemed strange, like in a dream.

"Come on, Ayn, it's not like you swing that way," the young one teased. "Give him to me. Just one time."

"No way, fucker," Ayn flipped him.

"You're letting that nice ass go to waste?" another asked and shamelessly slapped Xavier's ass.

Ayn pushed him with his free hand. "What the hell dude? I told you hands off!"

"Wow, chill, man, you surely got freaky," the man raised his hands in surrender. 

"My house, still everything there?" Ayn questioned. "No one touched my stuff?"

"No one would be fool enough. Although you were gone like half a year or something," one reproached.

Ayn shrugged. "Good to know you're not forgetting who I am. Scrap the car."

"But it's a nice car," the young one complained.

"Too nice. You don't want anyone on your ass for that. Scrap it. Also, here is a small souvenir," he threw the gun he had used to threaten Xavier. "Sell it at the market in Aeria. You'll get enough to buy yourself a stiff drink. Or charm a girl," he joked.

"Wow, this is for me, Ayn?" the youngster's eyes were shining. 

"Yeah, kiddo," Ayn ruffled his hair in passing, while he dragged Xavier after him.

"Why did you give him the gun?" Xavier asked.

"It's useless. No bullets. Ammo for that kind of shit is hard to come by. But it's flashy and it can get the girls all wet and ready."

"No bullets?" Xavier asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I was lucky enough to steal that, though. It surely made you piss your pants," Ayn commented gleefully, as he pushed Xavier through the door to a house that didn't look any worse or better than the others. "Here it is, my home," he spoke and Xavier looked around.

It was basically just a room with a bed and a small kitchenette next to it. Another door was probably leading to the bathroom. That was all. It looked desolating. 

"Am I supposed to say anything?" Xavier asked. "About ... this?" he waved his right hand, derisively.

His irony was not lost on Ayn.

"Feeling almighty all of a sudden?" Ayn pushed him and pushed him to take a sit on the bed. "I could always let the guys have a bit of fun with you, you know?" he said, a dark expression on his face. 

"You told them I'm yours," grey eyes rose to meet dark pools. 

"That you are," Ayn agreed.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Xavier asked, while crossing his legs and looking at Ayn with no sign of feeling intimidated.

"It means that," Ayn closed the distance and pushed Xavier onto the bed, "I will be top dog now."

Xavier didn't back down and pushed back on his elbows to get up. "In your dreams."

"Really?" Ayn challenged. "Wanna bet?"

"Bet on what? You have nothing," Xavier threw a look around, to make his insinuation clearer. 

"You're so full of it," Ayn huffed. "I can do what I want with you."

"What? Kill me? You had the chance, you didn't," Xavier pointed out the obvious.

"I still can. Whenever I want," Ayn took a step back and let his eyes linger on Xavier's body with intent.

"Then why don't you?" Xavier looked him dead in the eyes.

"Because I don't think fucking a corpse would be any fun," Ayn grinned wildly, making that thing growing inside Xavier make summersaults. 

~A Good Servant~

Dion was sure more and more he liked John's small home. The bathroom was sparkling clean, clinical even, given the outside conditions, and, although small, it had everything. He decided for a quick shower. There was a long day ahead, so he let the hot stream hit his body and started to wash. 

He did not hear the door opening. Only when someone climbed into the small bathtub next to him, he realized he was not alone.

He was not so ceremoniously pushed a bit aside, as John started to wash next to him.

"Hot water is a luxury around here, princess," he commented, and Dion felt a bit guilty. 

He grabbed a few hands full of water to rinse whatever parts were still covered in soap and got out quickly, avoiding to brush against John, but failing a few times. He took a towel to dry and wrap around his waist, then he began brushing his teeth, while stealing glances at the man in the shower. John's body was hard, muscles everywhere, but the kind obtained through hard work, not running a treadmill. He could not help look at the man's organ as he turned. 

Dion gulped unconsciously. The man was big in every department, including that. One could not tell without seeing that cock in its aroused state, but even half asleep, it looked pretty impressive. Antoine was truly gifted, and it had always hurt when he had fucked Dion, but this guy looked even bigger. He continued to stare, the toothbrush still in his mouth. Was that thing growing?

"Hey, quit staring," he heard John speaking and he shook his head quickly. "If you wanted cock, you should have taken the guys on their offer."

He pretended not to hear. He finished his grooming and got out. After getting dressed, he waited for John. It was to be expected for them to go to work together. He doubted they had more time than for eating a sandwich and grab a cup of coffee, which he had already prepared.

When John came back, they ate in silence. He waited for the man to get up from his chair and head to the door, then followed.

As soon as they were out the door, John grabbed him by the shoulders, taking him by surprise. Startled, he looked up. John didn't even grace him with as much as a glance.

"To the outside world, we're supposed to be all lovey-dovey," the morose guy offered an explanation.

Dion looked ahead. It felt good to have that large, heavy and warm hand on his shoulder. It almost made him feel wanted. 

As they met others, John waved at them, and Dion politely exchanged a few words. Most guys were congratulating John for landing such a beauty to be his partner. Dion could tell his cheeks were red from embarrassment. Even if some of the comments were a bit racy, they were genuine, and he did not feel humiliated. 

When they were supposed to part ways, to go about their work, John dragged him into a warm embrace and kissed him on the lips.

"Take care, darling," he drawled out the words, making Dion feel a bit strange in the pit of the stomach. 

There had been just a small brush of their lips, but it made Dion want to suddenly grab the man by the neck and show him a real kiss. A real kiss? What did Dion know about that? Antoine had taught him everything. Including that. He suddenly felt ill.

John frowned. "Well, I'm afraid you will have to put up with these little things when in public, princess," he whispered in Dion's ear, so no one could hear them. "Otherwise, you know I would not touch you with a stick."

He walked away, and Dion felt deserted. He didn't want John to think like this about him. John's kiss had felt nice, it had felt as Dion was sure a kiss was supposed to feel, but he had just stood there, with a stricken expression on his face that had made the man walk away.

He had to put some things in order. For some reason, he wanted John to really appreciate him, to ... what? Want him?

It was not until afternoon, when they had to have lunch, when he saw John again. He took his tray and sat next to the man and started talking. He talked about what had happened at work so far, about some gossip he heard, anything, just to prevent the silence that was bothering him so much to creep between them.

"What are you? A chatterbox?" John stopped him, obviously annoyed.

"I thought ... maybe you wanted a little conversation?" Dion spoke.

"I only want to eat," the man gestured towards his plate.

"Alright," Dion agreed and focused on eating, too.

"Hey, John," he heard someone talking and saw a worker approaching.

John just nodded.

"Heard you got yourself another cutie," the man commented, and Dion suddenly became all ears.

Another?

"Yeah, what do you know," John offered an ambiguous answer.

"Andreas is a big hit down at Venusville," the man commented. "He's like the biggest earner and stuff."

"No doubt," John spoke.

Dion was looking at the man who had taken a seat across from them.

"How could you let that sweet piece of ass go, John?"

"None of your business," came another quick reply.

"Well, at least, you got another. Just keep him on a tighter leash," the man joked and walked away, obviously dissatisfied with John's lack of interest in any kind of conversation.

"Who's Andreas?" Dion commented.

"My ex," John answered, and offered nothing else more.

"Ex? Aren't partnerships supposed to be ... forever?"

"Guys change their mind. It's not unusual. Did you hear me saying any vows? Did you? Don't get your hopes high with me. I know I don't. Eventually you'll leave, at some point."

"Why would I?" Dion demanded, a bit exasperated and, admittedly, a bit afraid, too. "Will you kick me out?"

For a brief second, John turned to look into Dion's beautiful hazel eyes. "No. But know that the door is open. And the sooner you go, the better. For both of us."

"I won't go," Dion said, determined. 

"We'll see. In the meantime, stop getting on my nerves. Be grateful I took you in."

"I am grateful," Dion protested.

"Just throwing me a 'thank you' like you would throw a bone to a dog is not enough, princess," John continued, his voice becoming frostier and frostier. "You stay in my house, eat my food, steal my hot water, and no one bothers you. So I'm afraid a little 'thank you' is too small a pay. Even for a guy like me, coming from a guy like you."

Dion gulped, feeling nervous. All in all, John was right. Sort of. "What do you mean? How are you and me different?"

John stopped again and frowned, while their eyes clashed again. "I've lived here all my life. I'll die here, too. You came here down from cloud number nine and expect the fairytale to continue. If you want it to keep up, though, you'll have to offer something in return. It's a small price, and you have plenty."

Dion grabbed his temples, feeling them pulsing. "Plenty of what? What are you saying?"

John suddenly reached for him, grabbing a handful of red strands. What he said afterwards made Dion gasp. "You're fucking beautiful. Out of my league. Like you are out of anyone's league around here. But a bunch of guys to worship your every step ... offering you everything you want, that may work. And you only need to be willing to take some cocks in your mouth and ass. Seeing where you're coming from, I suppose you are used to it, so what's the problem?"

The former servant felt the world spinning around them. John had just managed to compliment him and insult him in just a few phrases. He blushed, mostly because he felt angered. 

"I'm not like that."

John let go of his hair. "Yes, you are. You just don't know it yet."

"What happened with Andreas that made so mean?" Dion blurted out.

"None of your business," John turned to see about his food.

"Well, it is. Because I am your partner and I need to know," the redhead said stubbornly.

John laughed. "Really? My partner? We sleep in different beds. We only touch in public. That's not much of a partnership."

"Then come sleep with me at night," Dion found himself talking. 

"Darling," John suddenly got dangerously close and grabbed Dion's waist. Their lips got so close, Dion hoped for a kiss. "I am not talking about sleeping," he added, and then, just like that, he was back at what he was doing before, leaving Dion stand there, mouth slightly parted, feeling like a fool.

The alarm blared.

"Now you'll have to go hungry," John gestured towards Dion's almost untouched plate. "That will teach you to run your mouth while you're supposed to eat."

Dion said nothing back. He was in no mood for eating, anyway.

~A Good Servant~

In several days, he started to become more confident to walk outside, without John. There was little to no conversation between them, and Dion wanted, needed that to stop. He had thought about what John had said about him not being grateful. So he was trying his best to tidy up the house and cook, but it didn't look like John was impressed.

With his first paycheck in his pocket, he went shopping. 

The small stores located in the main area didn't look like much, but they had all the necessities. He counted the money in his pocket mentally. He purchased general stuff he knew they were missing or starting to deplete, and then he walked around, in search of something special. He had to say a proper 'thank you'. John was right.

"What are looking for, sugar?" the shopkeeper asked him.

"Alcohol," Dion said, after a short moment of hesitation. "But something ... a bit better."

The shopkeeper nodded, all knowingly. He stole a quick glance towards the door, and then he took something from under his desk.

Dion took the small bottle. He recognized the brand.

"Drena stuff. Top shelf. 500 credits, it's all yours, hun," the man rubbed his hands.

500? Dion shook his head. That was half of what he got. And he hadn't dare asking, but most probably he was not going to get any more money until next month. Whatever, he had to. He placed the money on the table, and the man grinned. It was strange to think about money, when back in Drena, he could spend it on anything he wanted - or actually, his master wanted - without worrying about it.

Together with the rest of the groceries, he ended up without much in his pocket. He was going to have to think this better next time.

He entered the house and started to cook. He even made dessert and he began feeling happy. The kitchen had always been a happy place for him. Antoine hadn't care about coming there to torment him, a brief thought touched him.

He heard John coming in, and he blushed a little. Was he going to enjoy Dion's small gift?

John nodded at him in passing, while going to the bathroom to wash. Dion just nodded back. It was their way of greeting. Without words, since John was seemingly allergic to hearing Dion talking.

John came back in home clothes and sat at the table. 

"What's the occasion?" he asked, eyeing the exquisite food on the plate.

"My first pay," Dion offered an explanation as he took a seat, as well.

"Congratulations," John said and started eating.

Dion was looking at him from time to time to gauge the man's reactions. Eventually, John raised his eyes to look at him.

"What?" he snapped.

"How do you like the food?" Dion asked, counting to three in his mind to avoid getting snappy, too.

"It's good," John said shortly, and Dion's face fell. "Alright, it's great. You're a great cook," John added. "Better now?"

"Yes, thank you," Dion got back to his food, trying to hide a small smile. 

The look in John's eyes when he brought the dessert, though, was better than words. The man practically devoured the éclair and smacked his lips in satisfaction. When they looked at one another again, Dion could not help feeling a bit smug. 

"Alright, princess, as far as cooking skills are concerned, you're a keeper," John winked at him, and rose.

Dion took care of the dishes, while John went to his room. Although the man had insisted against Dion always taking care of the chores, the former servant had been so fierce about it, that John had finally given up.

He took the bottle from the place he kept it hidden and then took a deep breath. He knocked softly, waiting for John's morose 'come in' to enter the room.

As always, John didn't spare him a glance. Dion placed himself between John and the TV and quietly handed him the bottle. 

John looked up, annoyed. His eyes grew wide when he saw the gift. He took it slowly and stared at it. "Brandy, huh?"

"I thought you'd like it," Dion spoke.

"I do. Thanks," the man looked a bit embarrassed. "You spent a fortune on this, didn't you?"

"Don't bother," Dion shook his head.

There was a moment of silence, and John looked up to him, while putting the bottle aside. The light in the room was growing dim.

Dion suddenly knelt next to the couch, to be on eye level with John. The man didn't move, as Dion hesitantly placed a hand on John's chest that was now rising and falling more rapidly. 

Dion felt lost, too. He was no good at this. He wasn't even sure he wanted it. He had seen the man naked. It was going to hurt. But at least he was not going to be humiliated. That he knew.

Antoine had always taken everything from him. So, now, being the one to initiate, he felt awkward. He half closed his eyes and placed his lips on John's. Feeling no resistance, he grew a bit bolder and started to kiss the man. He tasted the man's lips, a bit sweet and salty; he swiped his tongue over them, making them part to gain access inside and tentatively he pushed. 

Suddenly, there were strong hands grabbing him, and he was manipulated like a doll, as John managed in record time to turn the tables and have Dion placed on the couch, with the other on top of him.

Dion could feel the man's erection, pushing at the inside of his thigh. 

It will hurt; don't think about it. He thought in his head. But no matter what he tried to say in his mind didn't work. He froze and unconsciously pushed against the hard body on top of him.

John interrupted the kiss and they looked into each other's eyes. Dion's eyes were moist. John pushed himself up.

"What a fucking cocktease," he spat as he went to a nearby drawer to pull some clothes out.

"Where are you going?" Dion rose.

"Out," John said curtly and, dressed in record time, he walked out the door, not forgetting, of course, to slam it behind him.

Dion circled his knees with his long arms, and buried his head in them. He could feel John's smell everywhere in that room. It was comforting, but Dion felt pain burrowing deep inside his chest telling him it was not going to last. Not if he wasn't willing to let go of his demons.

*****

Author's Note:

Hi, guys, sorry it took so long to come up with the next chappie. RL gets in the way sometimes. I am so glad many of you like the story that you care to leave such great comments. I hope I will continue to surprise you and that you will consider the story to be hot, plot wise and everything. Making the Hall of Fame? He, he, I'd be a liar to say I would not like that.

Cannd, wow, that was the greatest comment I've ever got in my life! Whenever I feel down, I go back and read everything you and the rest of the guys are saying and I can face the world again. I will try to insert more in the story about the world, so you can all imagine it better. I hope you will like the new chapter. Ayn and Xavier ... well, that will go down hot and dirty ;) I hope. Good point about what's happening between Cory and Lucas. Your input helps me a great deal. And, as for Dion ... his story will unfold, as well.




A Good Servant Ch. 10



Chris, I hope you will find the evolution between Cory and Lucas more exciting as time goes by and I get deeper in their relationship. There are always things to discover about the other, some more surprising than others. 

There will be plenty of hot stuff coming up. I am glad you are so excited about the story and I will do my best to keep you 'at the edge of your seat' for the rest of it.



A Good Servant Ch. 11



A single ray of light broke the unnatural darkness of the room.

"Our society is in danger," one deep voice resonated, as the quill relentlessly scratched the paper.

"Why?" the second voice inquired.

"It's creeping in, this flimsy ... emotion," the first one to talk answered. The last word was spoken as if it was foreign, unused in normal conversation.

"I don't understand. We gave them everything. They are conditioned to be content."

"Maybe this is where we were wrong. Contentment is not enough."

"Don't you think they have enough thrills? We offer them innocents and whores in equal measures. The world is at their feet."

"Not the world, just Drena," the first man corrected the other.

"Should we terminate the experiment, then?" the other seemed intrigued.

"Just for one element? It's just one single anomaly."

"Two."

"Two?"

"If we are counting Lord Lucas."

"He's an outsider. It could be a slip from his part. Acceptable, to some degree. Chasing what is forbidden, in his case ..."

"Of course, there is also the servant."

"What about him?"

"I think he is the link, the connection between these anomalies."

"I truly believe it's merely a coincidence and nothing more."

"We are creatures of reason. Of logic. There is no such thing as coincidence," the voice was filled with contempt. 

"Emotions are fickle things. We could manipulate them to serve our best interest," the other concluded.

"The servant is the key. We shall start with him," came the short conclusion, and both men dressed in grey clothes fell silent, again nothing but the quill against the paper breaking the morbid quietness of the room.

~A Good Servant~

John was out almost every evening. It was driving Dion crazy with a feeling he could not understand. Back in Drena, he had always appreciated the times when he could be alone. Here, being alone was making him fearful, filled with apprehension, although there was no reason to fear anything. There was almost no crime outside of Drena's gates. But the house was silent, and he could not fill it on his own. John wasn't talking to him, either, since that night, ignoring Dion's clumsy attempts to make conversation. They sat together at the table to eat, and they went to work together, but that was all. John was doing everything in his power to avoid Dion, and the redhead had no idea what to do about it. The only moments they were close were when John was kissing him in the morning, before parting their ways to head for their workplaces. That made things worse, as Dion felt like grabbing John and kissing him for real each and every time. Only that he could not bring himself to do it.

He was deep in thought, while working the machinery in front of him, like an automaton. Someone passed by him and stopped. It took him a few seconds to sense the other person's presence. He turned to see another worker from his section. He stared at the man questioningly.

"Everything's fine at home?" the man eventually asked.

"Yes," Dion nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. No, it was anything but fine at home.

The man tsked. "I don't get John, really. He has a fine guy like you at home, and still ..."

Dion grabbed the man's arm brusquely. "Still what?"

"Rumor has it he's spending all his paycheck down at Venusville," the man shrugged. "It's just one thing men go for down there."

"What thing?" Dion asked, although he already knew.

"You know," the man got closer and circled Dion's waist with a strong arm. 

The worker breathed in Dion's scent. "Gods, you're beautiful," he whispered. 

Dion pushed against him. The man seemed annoyed and didn't back down. "Is John really that stupid to forget what he has at home? Ditch that zero and come have some fun with me. If I were him, I'd make sure you won't be able to get up every morning," the worker continued to talk into Dion's ear.

"Let me go," this time Dion pushed against the man more energetically.

"Or you're such a frozen bitch, you made him afraid his dick will fall off if he sticks it in you?" the man spat, but eventually let go of the redhead.

"Get to work!" both heard the foreman's booming voice, and Dion quickly turned to his job, his head reeling.

The worker walked away, not without cursing something under his breath, Dion could not make sense of.

That night, when John went out, Dion waited for just a couple of minutes, then he got dressed and walked out the door, too. He had to see it with his own eyes, and do something about it.

~A Good Servant~

Soft music filled the air as he was dancing around the house, seeing about his chores. Too few had been the moments in life when he could tell he'd been really happy. But being there, in Lucas's arms, meant everything to him, and he had a giddy sensation nestling in his chest telling him that this was it. The big L, the stuff dreams were made of. Lucas had put himself in danger to protect him. Lucas cherished him and made love to him like he was the most precious thing in the world. 

He had been trained to serve for the remainder of his days back then, at the Institution. He had already ingrained it in him to be obedient. But this, this was something else. It was not the respect he had had for Xavier. It was not like the friendship he had shared with Ayn and Dion, for a short time. It was bigger than that, stronger, fast at making his heart beat wildly, each time he was in the man's proximity. Not like the fading sensation he had once had for another man, before the wranglers dragged him to the Institution. That love had had no time to blossom.

Any thought, vile and treacherous, saying that this would not last, had been quenched during their latest love trysts. Now, he was living pure domestic bliss, as he was waiting each day for Lucas to come home, and spend the entire evening and night in his lover's arms. 

Even if Lucas had avoided the subject ever since the day when he had punished Cory for lying, the servant knew, guessed at least, what the man wanted. With minutes passing on the clock, and the time for Lucas's arrival approaching quickly, he went to the bedroom to undress.

Smiling, he secured the cuff on his left ankle and tied it to the bed post. He proceeded to do the same with his right one. He knew he was not going to be able to tie both his hands in the same fashion, but that could be something left for Lucas to finish. Something was telling him Lucas was a man who liked things that were well and thoroughly done.

~A Good Servant~

The world outside the small window looked grey. Xavier could not help thinking of the beautiful colors decorating the streets of Drena, as if each day there was something that needed celebrating. But the grey outside wasn't depressing or sad. Laughter filled the air, dogs yapping and children playing could be heard, and everything was striking him as unusual. Drena's false happiness had been wearing him down for a while now, and being so far away from the place he was used to call home, he was starting to realize that he did not feel homesick at all. He tried to remember something, anything in particular that had made him happy there. Except for some of his most arduous talks with Lucas, mostly contradictory, and some of the moments spent with his servant Cory, he could not remember anything else. Then Ayn had come, and his world had been upside down ever since.

He was supposed to feel something about being abducted like that by the rebellious youngster. Fear, regret, anger; yet, he felt nothing of the kind. He moved his wrists against the rope cutting into his skin. Apparently, Ayn really wanted to have him wait. Staying like that on his back was getting boring, to say the least. 

The door finally opened, and Ayn came in.

"So, how is it?" he asked smugly, as he climbed on the bed, next to Xavier. "Do you need to piss or something?" he pulled at the rope to set Xavier free and the former Master of Drena winced while rubbing his wrists to make the blood flow again. "The bathroom is over there."

"Of course it's there, it was not like I was going to get lost in your vast apartment," Xavier commented, earning a murderous look from Ayn.

"While you're there, take a shower," Ayn said shortly. "Oh, and come back naked," he added with satisfaction, while placing his hands under his head and smiling. 

Xavier could feel the brunet's appreciative gaze all over his body. "Should I dare asking why am I supposed to do all that?"

"Come on, Xav, you know the drill. It was what I was supposed to do while in your clutches whenever you wanted to fuck me."

There was something else burning deep in the dark pools measuring Xavier up and down. It was hunger, and Xavier felt elated. All the times when he had had sex with Ayn, he had wondered whether his beautiful slave was feeling anything for him at all. Now, the certainty that Ayn desired him as much as Xavier desired the former slave made him calm and relaxed. Even a bit happy.

"If you are expecting me to just give up my body to you, you are wrong," he said defiantly, despite the giddy sensation nestling in his chest.

"Do you want to put up a fight? You're just making my day. I'm looking forward to it. I'm all for some naked wrestling," Ayn had the nerve to wink at him.

It was not going to be a conquest if it was not going to be a fight, Xavier thought as he closed the door behind him. The water was lukewarm at best, but it felt refreshing to be able to wash the road dust off his hair and body. He looked at his own clothes with disdain. They looked worn out and in a terrible need to be washed. He shrugged.

With his head held high, he stepped out of the bathroom. A whistle of appreciation welcomed him.

"What?" he said. "It's not like it's the first time you see me naked," he crossed his arms over his chest, defying Ayn with his eyes.

"It's all about perspective, my dear former Master," Ayn rose and moved gracefully, like a predator stalking his prey. "It's all about perspective."

A single, impudent finger followed a small drop of water falling from Xavier's damp hair on his chest. The hand rose to tip Xavier's chin. Grey orbs clashed with dark ones. Ayn smiled and closed the distance for a kiss.

It felt unnervingly exciting to be the object of one's desire, instead of being the main actor dictating everything. Ayn brushed their lips together slowly, and Xavier could not remember his hands moving on his own accord to rest on the other man's waist, while angling his head to deepen the kiss. 

Ayn withdrew a little and chuckled softly. "I knew you would be good."

"I'm not," Xavier suddenly pushed the brunet on the bed and climbed on top of him. "How do you feel now, Ayn? Do you have it in you to start calling for your friends to help you?" he mocked, but Ayn quickly pushed up and turned the tables, capturing Xavier's strong sinewy body between him and the bed.

"You talk too much," he pushed Xavier's legs apart with his thighs, and dragged the man's hands up to lock them in his.

This time, Ayn bit Xavier's lips. A bit too hard. Not as playfully as he intended in the first place. He licked them instead of an apology. Even if Ayn was trying to deny it in his own head, he had loved Xavier's kisses. And this was not as much about punishment, as he wished it to be.

~A Good Servant~

"This specimen," the grey ghost like figure tapped a scrawny finger against the picture portraying a beautiful man, completely naked.

"Antoine, he is called," the other commented. "Should we use a wild card so carelessly like this?"

"The events must appear as random. Do not forget who we are dealing with here. Lord Lucas's bright mind was not, unfortunately, molded by us. Unwanted surprises may occur in how he will interpret the events."

"Are you aiming for exclusion?"

"Spare the rod, spoil the child. Lord Lucas should understand what his privileged status means."

"Is there any hope in recuperating him?"

"That we will have to find out. But we should not act hastily. There is no need to make the others restless. Any punishment must come forward as truly deserved."

"Punishment is love," the grey figure bent curtly.

"Punishment is love," the other answered back. 

~A Good Servant~

"Hey, sweetie, are you looking for work?" a man the size of a mountain blocked his path, as he was looking at the neon sign, saying Venusville.

"No," Dion shook his head. 

"Really?" the man measured him up and down. "Then what are you looking for?"

"You know," Dion tried to sound confident. "The thing all men look for here."

The bouncer didn't look impressed. "You?" he snorted. "You're the type to get on his fours and take it nicely up the ass."

Dion didn't flinch at the rude comment. "I have money," he took some bills out of his pocket and shoved them into the man's hand.

The bouncer's attitude suddenly changed. He shrugged. "Then, please come inside," he gestured for Dion to move, as he walked out of the way.

Dion had to blink a few times to adjust his vision to the stroboscopic lights inside. Cheap music was blaring loudly, and most patrons looked pretty wasted, while a few naked bodies were dancing on the small stage in the middle of the large room.

He started searching for his partner with his eyes. A few hands touched his ass in passing, but he ignored them. He didn't have time or energy to waste on fighting off these advances. They didn't mean anything.

He looked at every table and every dark corner, until he finally saw the one he was looking for. John was slumped on a coach that must have seen better days, a beer on the table in front of him. He had his eyes half closed and he didn't care about the world around him. 

Dion stared at him from afar. He approached John's table, his heart beating wildly. What was he going to say?

He stopped next to the table, but John didn't seem to notice.

"Another one," John eventually said in a gruff voice, while slamming the empty bottle against the table. 

Only when he got no answer, he looked up. Dion was staring down on him, his arms crossed across his chest. John snarled.

"If it isn't my lovely partner ... What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, as he made a small gesture to straighten himself, but gave up after the first failed try.

"I came to take you home," Dion answered, feeling a bit relieved that John was at Venusville only to get smashed and not for other reasons.

"Why?" John looked at him, with disdain written all over the hard planes of his face.

"You can drink at home, if that's your choice of a good time," Dion insisted and stretched out a hand. "Come."

John laughed. The redhead felt embarrassed, his arm stretched like that. 

"Nah, I'm comfortable here," the man spoke and unglued his eyes from Dion to look around. "Who the fuck runs this place?" he called loudly. "I need another beer!"

"John," Dion said sternly. "People are starting to talk. Stop wasting your money like this. Come home with me."

"And do what? Watching paint dry is more entertaining than staying in the same house with you, princess."

Dion threw a long breath. That had really stung. 

"It's not my fault I'm such a bore," he said in his defense. "You don't even talk to me, you don't let me ..."

"Could you stop with all the drama already?" a muffled voice came from somewhere below and Dion froze. "It's annoying to try sucking on a limp dick."

"Shut it," one of John's hands disappeared under the table.

The table shook a bit, and Dion saw a blond guy getting up from underneath. He was wearing almost nothing but glitter on his attractive body, and a tight pair of short pants. He looked at Dion with disdain, while wiping the corners of his mouth.

"You're fresh out of Drena, and you have no idea how to suck a cock?" he talked to the redhead. "Or no one there wanted to fuck your ugly face?" the whore added, placing a hand on his hip.

Dion straightened up. "Apparently, neither have you," he served it right back.

The whore laughed, showing his beautiful white teeth. "Honey, trust me, he would have filled my mouth twice by now, if you hadn't appeared to make his dick die on me. I've never had an erection go so limp so fast in my mouth until now, unless the guy came already. You're really something," he turned on his heels, flicking his blond hair over his shoulders.

"Hey, Andreas, where do you think you're going?" John shouted after him. "Come back, I'm not finished with you!"

"Solve your domestic shit, John. I'm not paid to watch your drama," the blond continued to walk away.

Dion was seething with anger. Andreas? That was Andreas? The guy appeared to be very beautiful, even in the faint light of the club, he thought, but there was no time to dwell over how inadequate he was, compared to John's ex. He grabbed John's right hand and dragged him up.

"You, mister, you come back home with me right now," he said, determined. 

John pulled at his trousers with his free hand. "Go back home now," he warned. "You don't want to make me mad."

"And leave you here to embarrass yourself? To embarrass me?"

Dion pulled at John's hand with all his might.

"Hey, John," they heard a voice booming behind him. "Don't make a scene. Go home with your guy," the bouncer warned, and John let out an exasperated sigh.

"Alright," he agreed. He pulled his hand free from Dion's and zipped his pants. "After you, princess," he gestured at Dion, and the redhead walked away stiffly.

As they headed for the exit, Andreas stared at them, with a derisive smile, while leaning against the bar. 

"Tomorrow, same time, John?" he asked, while slowly caressing his taut abdomen. 

"Don't clear your schedule for him, honey," Dion mocked and reached back to catch John's arm and drag him faster towards the exit.

~A Good Servant~

There were strong hands in his hair keeping him in place, as Ayn was kissing his mouth and dry humping his body while still dressed. He pushed against the brunet's chest, and he was elated to discover how strong Ayn really was. The youngster had never been a tame slave, he had just waited for the right time to act. And this beautiful, strong being wanted him, Xavier, the man, not the Master of Drena, the one who had everything.

Now he had nothing, but Ayn.

He was suddenly yanked by his shoulders and unceremoniously turned on his belly. A hand traveled from his nape across his spine, eliciting small shudders in its wake. A playful slap ended the small journey and he gasped. He turned his head to throw a contemptuous look at Ayn. How dared he? The almond shaped eyes were gleaming with mischief.

"So, Xav, should I ask you? Are you still a virgin? Or you're just a hypocrite about being always on top and all that shit? C'mon, say it. Who tapped your ass?"

"For starters, my name is Xavier, not whatever moronic contraction crossing your mind. Secondly, no one had the impudence to ..."

"Blah, blah, blah," Ayn stopped him. "Xav suits you better. Didn't you want to give me a name, when I had one?"

The former Master of Drena froze. "How could you know such a thing?" he asked icily. "This is something I only discussed with ..."

"Cory," Ayn laughed. "Yeap."

"How?" Xavier felt blood thumping in his ears.

"Really, Xav, did you think I could escape without any help? Plus, he didn't burn the clothes, right?"

An unpleasant feeling curled inside Xavier's chest. Cory, the obedient servant, always welcoming him with a smile, never bothered by anything thrown his way, that serene smile perpetually on his face ... Cory?

"Don't sweat it," Ayn cooed. "He truly held you in high regard, you know? Just that he is a good man, not like the likes of you. By the way, if you hadn't come home a bit too early, I would have left alone, and you wouldn't have known anything. So, for your peace of mind, he didn't want you hurt in any way. This," he punctured his words by squeezing Xavier's round ass, "is all my fault."




A Good Servant Ch. 11



"And what is 'this' about?" Xavier commented bitterly. "Do you hate me? Do you want to prove you're better?"

"Prove? I don't need a proof to know that. And things are simpler than you think. I just want to fuck you."

"Sex is power. You're just asserting dominance with this foul act," Xavier squirmed, only making his ass wiggle a little, which earned him a pleasured pained grunt from Ayn.

"Whatever floats your boat," Ayn admitted. "The truth is I have been thinking for a long time how it would be to fuck you. I've only wanted girls before, you know? Now I can only think about having you and you alone. So just put your ass up, and I'll show you a good time."

"I doubt your experience with girls," Xavier said with disdain, while breathing in, as cool fingers dipped in something slick started circling his hole, "would help you."

~A Good Servant~

They walked back home in absolute silence. Dion kept the door open for John to come in, and closed it shut. He waited for the man to sit on the couch and he knelt in front of him. The man looked at Dion, with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Dion didn't break eye contact, as he fumbled with the man's trousers. 

"What are you doing?" John demanded, in a thick voice.

"Anything you go looking for down at Venusville, you have at home," Dion explained and gently began rubbing John's cock, freed from the confines of clothing.

To his surprise, the man's organ grew hard in his hand right away. Without much ado, the redhead bent and took the man's silky cock in his mouth. It was making him feel a bit sick thinking Andreas had had his mouth on John until not longer than half an hour ago, but he quenched that sensation. He had to make John see that he had no reason to pay for sex while having Dion at home. 

He had always hated when Antoine was forcing himself on him. But he had always done well with oral. It was easier to block everything and just make the damn thing squirt in his mouth and have it done with. It was a bit of control he could enjoy.

As he took John deeper and deeper, he heard the man exhale. Then it suddenly struck him; he didn't want just to make John get off. He wanted more. He withdrew very slowly, letting his tongue play on the man's shaft, eliciting short grunts from John. 

The man's taste on his tongue didn't feel bad at all. There were no hands in his hair, to push him down, or make him reel in pain. John just stood there, letting himself serviced, his only manifestations the restrained sounds he was making. 

Dion rubbed the organ, milking it slowly into his mouth. He felt inundated by the sensation that he had to please that man, make him shout in ecstasy, because Dion wanted nothing but to give something and receive something in return. This was on his own accord. It was not forced, and it was ... nothing short of amazing. John's cock was hard, large, but silky to the touch.

He held the organ in his hand a bit. It was hot and warm, and Dion wondered for a brief moment how it would be to have that thing inside him. He shuddered at the thought, but it was not really unpleasant to think of that. He angled his head to lick the man's large balls and suck them one, then the other. 

"Do you want to come?" he spoke softly, as he engulfed the man's large head in his mouth, enjoying the sensation of having to force so much of it at one time down his throat.

"Yes, please," John murmured, and Dion adjusted his position to allow the large cock to penetrate deeper, beyond his gag reflex.

He undulated his throat around John's cock, and the man start to take in deep, sharp breaths. 

"Fuck," John whispered, as he started to come, and Dion kept his hips in place with his hands, while gulping down everything. 

He withdrew slowly, teasing the spent organ with his tongue and cleaning it. 

"Don't ever go to Venusville," he said, and John stared at him with dreamy eyes. "Do you want a drink? Have one at home. Do you want your cock sucked? I'm here to suck you dry."

Dion had no idea he could talk like that. But he had to be in charge this time and set things straight with John. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

"Do you hear me?" he insisted, and John raised one hand to caress his lips. 

"Yeah, I hear you," the man eventually spoke. 

Dion rose and sat next to John on the couch. A large, warm arm dragged him close. 

"Will you go again? There?"

"I see no reason why," John cooed and caressed Dion's head. "Need help with that?"

Only then Dion noticed the tent he was pitching. He was ... hard? John's hand reached inside his pants and started rubbing him gently. The man's hand was so large, Dion's cock felt really small in comparison. No one had ever touched him like this; Dion came with a small grunt. It was nothing like the times when Antoine had forced him to come, to humiliate him further. This time was so genuine, it was making his chest grow small for some reason.

"Better?" John whispered in his ear. 

"Yeah, thanks," he said back.

~A Good Servant~

It felt strange to be the one on the receiving end, as dull pain made him shudder; Ayn was apparently taking his time to penetrate him, and Xavier was feeling his own breathing getting heavier and heavier. It was too much. The more the brunet pushed inside him, the more something felt like spilling over. He was growing hard, despite the pain. He was no longer in control, a reality he had anticipated for so long. 

"Please," he called in a raspy voice, and Ayn answered with a low chuckle.

"Please, what?" he mocked.

Xavier could not bring himself to say it. Despite the pain, he didn't want Ayn to stop. 

"It will get better," the brunet caressed his back with slow, circling moves. "You fucked me and I hated it. But even then ..."

Xavier moved his head as he wanted to hear Ayn better. Was this a confession? A single push was needed for Ayn to bury himself down to the hilt in Xavier's heat. He was slowly made to get up to a half straightened position, as Ayn started kissing his nape. 

"I think I get it now," Ayn murmured against his skin. "It's fucking awesome, you're so tight."

A hand was holding his chest, while another searched for his cock.

"You fucker, you're rock hard," the former slave whispered in his ear, as he withdrew for a bit, only to slam harder into Xavier's body.

"It's just a biofeedback response," Xavier answered, unsure if that was how things really were. 

"Yeah, right," Ayn said under his breath, as he started to pound Xavier's ass in that sitting position, and rub the other's cock in earnest. "Not so much fight left in you, once someone touches your cock, right?" he teased. "I thought you're all bite and no bark."

"You got it wrong, it's all bark and no ..."

Ayn used his other hand to angle his head and shut him up with a kiss. "You're talking too much for someone in your position."

Xavier got lost in the sensation. The discomfort was fading, replaced by pure raw pleasure, and he moaned shamelessly. The pain had not been strong enough, he thought; Ayn was right, even forced like that, he had been hard in an instant. What made things worse, or more delightful, he didn't know for sure, was that Ayn's roaming hand was now twisting one nipple hard. Something like a strange electricity like sensation went straight to his cock. He came long and hard, Ayn's cock in his ass pulsating there like living steel.

"Fuck, I so wanted to last more," Ayn commented and he followed Xavier.

He collapsed on the bed. Wincing at the stickiness in his ass, he tried to adjust his position, but a strong warm hand stopped his butt from wiggling. 

"You look good with your ass plowed like that," Ayn laughed softly.

The brunet dragged him in his arms.

"I should go wash," Xavier mumbled.

"No way. Get used to having me inside you," Ayn kissed him gently on one shoulder while embracing him with tenderness Xavier doubted he had ever experienced in his life.

"Ayn," he called.

"Yes?" a sleepy voice answered.

"What do you plan to do with me?"

He had to know. At this point, he really had to know.

"Keep you here," Ayn answered matter-of-factly. "Make you like it."

"Why?" confusion and excitement crept inside his brain again.

"Because I want you. You're here, and I want you."

"I don't belong here. You should just let me walk away. You got what you wanted, right?"

"What I wanted?" Ayn questioned.

"You got your revenge," Xavier pointed out.

"Did that feel like revenge to you?" Ayn's voice grew a bit worried, although the youngster was trying to hide it. "Gods be my witnesses I wanted so much to hate fuck you, but I couldn't. Unlike you, I'm honest. I have no idea why, but I like you. Now that you let me fuck you, I like you even more."

"You liked me before, then?" Xavier let his uncertainty spill over.

"I thought I hated you, but I guess my cum in your ass proves us both wrong. I've never fucked someone I didn't like. You would have been a first time for me."

"I am a first time for you," Xavier pointed out. "Unless ..." the thought felt uneasy, "you had another man before me."

"Oh, well, that's right. You're my first alright," Ayn sounded happy as saying that. "So get used to Haven. And to me. Because just like you thought about me back in Drena, I am the one right now to think that I have no plans to let you go."

~A Good Servant~

He heard the shower running and he shook his head. He had eventually slept on the couch, on top of John, even if the larger bed in the bedroom would have been a better choice. Apparently, they had been both too wasted to care for that. How could John move so featherlike, that he hadn't waken Dion? The redhead jumped to his feet. He had to wash too. What was John thinking, letting him oversleep like this?

He rushed to the bathroom, while shedding his clothes all over the place. When he got inside, his eyes clashed with John's. The man was holding his cock in his hand, rubbing it vigorously. Rivulets of water danced on John's hard as steel pecks, losing themselves in the coarse dark hair covering the man's chest. Dion looked his partner up and down, amazed, once more, at how big and strong the man looked.

John's gaze burned as he looked at Dion's naked body. He was obviously not the only one enjoying what he saw. The redhead licked his lips and went straight for his prize. He took the man's organ from the large hand and stuffed it in his mouth. The said hand traveled on his back, resting on his ass. 

They had no time for refined techniques. He pumped the man's cock with his hand and mouth, sucking in with all his force. A hand, gentle but firm, kept his head in place, as John came in his mouth. Dion liked it, how he was kept like that, while sucking the man juice out of his partner. 

Satiated, John leaned against the wall. Like before, he caressed Dion's lips as the redhead straighten up.

"Love feeding your sweet mouth," he spoke hotly, and Dion blushed. 

"Out, I need to wash, too, and fast," the former servant spoke quickly to hide his embarrassment. 

"Oh, sweetheart, I'd wash you with my tongue everywhere," John smirked while getting out of the shower.

Dion drew a deep breath. The thought of John doing that to him suddenly made him lightheaded. That, and the close proximity of the man's body. He was radiating heat, probably because he was stepping out of a hot shower, or probably not only because of that.

"That's a promise," John added, as he was drying himself with a towel. He grabbed Dion's left buttock and squeezed playfully. "I'll lick that hole like crazy. Gotta make it wet, to get inside," he whispered as he leaned onto the redhead to caress his ear with his lips, and Dion felt his stomach clench in apprehension. 

Naturally, John wanted that, too. He just had to get over his fear and let the man do it. 

"Why the long face?" John stopped, angling his head to take a good look at Dion.

"Nothing."

"Jeesh," the man snapped and took a step away from Dion. "What? Did you suck my cock just to prove that you are better than Andreas? Should I go fuck him, so I can fuck your ass after that? You're so deranged up here, princess," he gestured at his head.

"No!" Dion cried out. "It's just ... you're big," he said quickly. 

"Oh," John stopped and frowned. "Andreas used to complain about that, too," he murmured in defeat.

"Don't worry, we'll see," Dion offered, but the man shrugged and went out of the bathroom, visibly upset.

~A Good Servant~

"Cory!" Lucas called for his lover. It felt unusual to not have the gorgeous blond rush to welcome him. He looked into the kitchen, then into the living room. An unsettling sensation he had no intention to listen to was curling against his thoughts. It had been a constant presence on his mind lately, and he had been trying hard to push it away.

He opened the door to the master bedroom and smiled, seeing his beloved waiting him like that. His worries gone, he moved slowly towards the bed and caressed a cuffed ankle.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked playfully.

Cory offered no answer, but he raised his free hand to offer Lucas the last cuff. He took it slowly and caressed a sinewy arm, while tying the wrist against the bed post.

"I must admit that you are looking quite fetching right now," he said wickedly. "Should I sit right over there," he pointed to a chair, "and just admire the view?"

Cory frowned. "Take a picture, it will last longer," the servant spoke, and Lucas laughed.

"Not as subservient as you pose to be, aren't you?" Lucas said affectionately, while slowly pulling his cock out. 

He climbed the bed and straddled Cory's chest. "Do you want to be taught a lesson, my naughty servant?" he asked, this time arousal creeping into his voice. 

"Yes, please," Cory breathed out, and the large organ was pushed through his lips, forcing him to open wide.

Lucas grabbed a fistful of hair and started fucking Cory's mouth. He was too close to coming and he didn't want that to happen. He withdrew, reveling in how beautiful his lover's mouth looked, ravaged like that.

He bent to roughly kiss the pouty lips. "Don't worry, I just want to fuck you crazy," he promised and he pressed into the body he knew so well.

Cory squirmed under him and Lucas laughed. "I bet you would want your hands free right now, don't you Cory?"

"Yes, please," the servant begged.

Lucas pushed a hand between them to squeeze Cory's cock. "I am afraid your little plan of making me aroused out of my mind will backfire a little. You are to remain like this while I'm having my way with you."

He had no intention to chase after lube at his point. Cory wanted it a bit rough, and Lucas felt happy to oblige. So he spit in his hand to make his cock slick and pushed between his lover's long legs. 

Cory answered to the invasion with a hiss, but he forced his legs wide open as much as he could. Lucas was hard and unyielding, as he started to fuck him into the mattress.

A slow, unwanted thought came to Lucas's mind, as he was getting lost into his beautiful servant's body. Both he and Cory wanted to quench a fear, something that was nagging them, something that could not be put to rest except by pure raw fucking. 

~A Good Servant~

It was something they had to talk about. Only that Dion felt a bit of dread thinking about it. Could he trust John enough to tell him about Antoine? About all the others? About what it meant for him to be used like that? He shook his head. He would just manage to blow his chances with the man. Obviously, John wanted Dion completely, and there was nothing wrong with that. 

He took a deep breath and sat on the couch next to John. The man seemed deep in thought and turned to look a little at him, as Dion managed a small smile and entangled his fingers with John's. 

"If you ever feel like going away, please just do it," John said, in a tired voice.

Dion grabbed the man's fingers tightly. "I don't want to go away. I ... I guess I have some explaining to do. I really like you, John."

Something akin to a bit of amusement mixed with fondness sparkled in the dark eyes. "That's good to know, because I like you, too."

Dion exhaled. "I thought you hated my guts."

A low chuckle was the answer. "Nah, I just thought you're gonna give me a bad case of blue balls, that's all. Which you did, by the way."

Dion felt all ticklish on the inside, hearing the man's honest confession. He giggled. 

"Not funny," John warned.

"Hey, it was not my fault you kept on rejecting me."

"I was just protecting myself!" John laughed.

"Really? You're like double my size!" Dion kicked him in the arm.

"Let's not exaggerate. I'm not that big," the tall man commented, but the smile faded away from his face.

Dion cast his eyes down. 

"Look, John ... it's ok, I can go through it. And adjust in due time, even if there is this ... difference between us."

"Don't dance around the subject, princess," John said bitterly. "I don't need another one to tell me how I ripped him in two with my big cock. That's why I'm telling you you're free to go when you want. And don't force yourself, it's the last thing I want."

"Hey," Dion cooed gently, using his other hand to caress John's cheek gently. "I think Andreas was exaggerating when telling you that," he found himself talking.

"You're basically telling me the same thing," John said morosely.

"I assume you had other lovers besides him. Before, I mean."

"Yes, I did."

"And did they complain?" Dion asked.

"No, actually, they kinda ... appreciated it," John said with a small smile. "But those were guys made of sterner stuff, like me. Not like you and Andreas. That's why I'm saying you're out of my league. A fine guy like you has to be treated right."

Dion felt his heart sinking at John's self deprecation. "Do you really think I had a beautiful life before coming here?"

John shrugged. "It was all Andreas talked about. Parties, beautiful people, gifts running from the sky and stuff like that."

"It was nothing like that for me," Dion spoke slowly. 

"How was it, then?" John caressed Dion's hand with his thumb, as their fingers remained intertwined.

The redhead closed his eyes for a couple of seconds, then he started talking.

"I don't know if you know, but they keep us in training for three years. During that time, we are forced to understand that there will be ... no activity of sexual nature for us."

"Really?" John looked at him, dumbfounded. "Sorry, I don't want to sound rude, but you suck cock like a pro."

"Well, they do take care that none of us has any gag reflex left, by stuffing some really large things down our throats," Dion explained.

John shuddered. "That's fucked up."

"And not the only thing that's fucked up," Dion murmured. "I walked in Drena, once my training was over, absolutely clueless about ... sex, per se. We were severely punished for even trying to touch ourselves, while in training at the Institution."

"So, you were ... like a total virgin?"

"Pretty much, yes. It was going to change, though, and fast."

Dion took a short break, to recollect himself. That was something he had only once told Cory and no one else. "Anyways, I was assigned to one of the Masters' households. I was told I was going to take care of the slaves. I entered their quarters. There I met ... Antoine."

John remained silent, aware of how difficult things were for Dion.

"He was very beautiful. But I seriously doubt I've ever met someone so beautiful on the outside, and so ugly on the inside. 'Look, guys, a new bitch, fresh from the Institution, just for us', he commented when he saw me, and I absolutely froze. I tried to ignore him, I introduced myself, as I was taught. But he just grabbed me and started to undress me. No, that's not the right term. He just shredded my clothes apart. The others were laughing, while I had no idea how to fight him off. You have to understand, I was trained to obey my betters, for three years. He just bent me over and slapped my ass, once I was naked. I got panicked and tried to run away. But he caught me, and slapped my face so hard, that I thought the world was starting to spin. The others came to help him, and I was kept down. When he ..."




A Good Servant Ch. 11



Dion coughed. 

"It's ok," John made a move to stop him, but Dion shook his head.

"No, it's fine, I have to tell you this. Well, he fucked me in front of all the others. I thought something was broken inside when he finally came. I had no more voice or tears in me. And, when I thought the ordeal was over, he ... he just told the others to have their fun with me. Fun," he repeated. "Now that's a word I don't really get. It was probably fun for them. When the Master of the house eventually came, and saw what happened, he just told me to get up and get cleaned up. It was my 'welcome to Drena' party, as Antoine said."

"Fuck me," John murmured under his breath. 

"It's not all."

"Shit, not all?"

"No. For the time spent in Drena, Antoine found pure bliss in torturing me almost every day. I was his personal toy. At least, he did not let others fuck me. Not too often. But he was really creative in making everything dreadful for me. One of his favorite pastimes was to choke me while fucking me, until I passed out."

"Oh," John started massaging his forehead. "No wonder you were so scared when coming here. You thought you'd get jumped."

"Yes. But I liked you. Right from the start. I felt safe next to you. So, I want to try it with you. No, not just 'try'. I want it to work."

John got up from the couch. "I want to get out a little," he said in a somber voice.

"Why?" Dion asked alarmed. Was John rejecting him now? After learning he had been nothing but a fuck toy for a sadistic bastard?

"I need to get my head straight. Don't come after me," John warned.

Dion remained there, completely devastated, while the door opened and closed with a small swishing sound.

*****

Author's note:

Phew, this chapter really took me a while to get it done. I know how much you guys want longer chapters, but I'm afraid I'm not doing that well in the attention span area. Anyways, three writer's blocks later and after fighting thoughts like 'Oh, no, I have no idea how I am going to pull this through', here it is. I hope you all enjoyed it. If you did, or if you didn't, please let me know. I just love reading your comments. It makes it all more worthy it.

Since some of you asked for more John and Dion, I hope this chapter fulfills your need for our newest couple. Topher, DreamToCome, odysseus_wanderer, and all the anons who cared about leaving comments, you guys make me cry of happiness. You guys, you da real MVP.

Chris, I am seriously thinking about editing and adding some bits to the final version of the story - for the time when I will publish it - based on your suggestions. For now, what it was written cannot be taken back, so I will have to fight with the draft when I will go over it. Until then, keep your comments coming. They really help me get better.

Love you all, until next time :)



A Good Servant Ch. 12



Author's note: A bit of warning is necessary for this chapter. Anyone who finds reading graphic descriptions of violence, please do not read.

*****

~A Good Servant~

"I simply hate these social functions," Lucas murmured while fiddling with his glass and sitting on an armchair with a morose expression on his face.

"We need to get out from time to time. People will talk," Cory shrugged. "Plus, what's the harm?"

"Besides the fact that I'd rather stay indoors and have fun with you?" Lucas angled his head and looked at his servant with a playful expression in his eyes.

Cory rolled his eyes but then burst into laughter. Lucas joined him, but a bit of worry remained hanging at the corners of his lips. The blond studied his lover's face, with a thoughtful expression.

"You are ruminating over something," he eventually said.

"Yes," Lucas admitted. "It was ... too easy. They believed everything, and to my knowledge, they did not even send someone to search for Xavier."

"And who should they send?" Cory wondered out loud. "A bunch of servants out there? Ayn told me there is nothing but the desert between here and where he's from. I doubt even the workers would survive out there. Plus, what would their motivation be? If the Trainers were to give them vehicles, to search the desert up and down, I think most of them would die out there or simply become deserters if they happen upon one of these settlements Ayn talked to me about."

"The continent is not as uninhabited as you think," Lucas linked his fingers and placed his chin on top of them thoughtfully. "In Aeria, where I'm from, we have some maps ... none of them complete in my opinion. I have always wondered what lies out there ..." his eyes became dreamy.

"What prevented you from traveling?" Cory questioned, dutifully taking Lucas's glass, left on a small table near the armchair to fill it again.

Lucas shrugged. "The other cities look up to Drena. It is said it is the most beautiful place on the entire continent."

"It is said ..." Cory echoed his words. "Don't you believe it?"

"I am not sure. All my life, at least from the moment I became conscious of the world surrounding me, I was curious to find out more. When I took the vocational test, the Trainers sent to Aeria to help us find our way in life told me I should focus my thirst for knowledge on the field of psychology. They told me the world is finite, while the human mind is not. I must say I found the concept rather ... seductive at that time. I became good at it, too; so good that I was invited to be Chief Psychologist here, in Drena."

"How is it like? Your home, I mean?" Cory offered Lucas the refilled glass.

"Aeria is not as beautiful as Drena. If anything, Aerians are mostly dedicated to making machines rather than creating beautiful things."

"Was Aeria created by the Trainers, too?" Cory asked. He was surprised to realize how little he knew of the world he lived in. But, after all, he had been nothing but a factory worker until the age of 18, and then sent to become a servant. Studying the world had not been on the list.

"It is said," Lucas said again, "that all the cities were created by the one before the Trainers. Drena itself seem to be deeply linked to them, though. It is their home city, and from here, they direct the trade that takes place all over the continent."

"The one before the Trainers?" Cory spoke, while sitting at Lucas's feet and placing his head on the man's knees. A warm hand descended on his hair, caressing it slowly.

"She is not often talked about. I think she is nothing but a legend, one to keep weaker minds hopeful of the existence of a higher being. In the golden age of rationale we are currently living in, there is no need for such a thing. I suppose that is why her memory is fading."

"Tell me more about Aeria. Do you have, you know ..." Cory hesitated for a bit, "women there?"

Lucas laughed softly. "Why are you asking that? Are you afraid I left someone behind in Aeria? A woman maybe?"

"It crossed my mind," Cory mumbled. "We rarely see women here in Drena. They are mostly tourists, or they come here from Tresalt, their city. No one is allowed to stare at them, but I must admit I was curious."

"They are flesh and blood, like us. Different in their appearance, but not by much. You should not worry; until meeting you, I wasn't that interested in engaging in sexual congress with anyone, be it male or female. I used to see it as a necessity, and, since in Drena, the customs demand for Masters in particular to be engaged in relationships of sorts, for convenience, and apparently, to keep minds sharp and focused on their tasks at hand, what I had with Xavier seemed to be enough and according to the norm."

"Wow," Cory grinned and rubbed his head against his Master's knee. 

"I would like to take you to Aeria with me," Lucas said with something akin to melancholy in his voice. "There are no continuous parties there, but we could be more of ourselves."

"Will you have to return there?" Cory felt his heart growing smaller. 

"No, I must serve my purpose here in Drena. But I will try to ask the Trainers if I could return to my home town and take you with me."

"Do you think they will let us? I've never heard of anyone leaving Drena without approval from the Trainers, except for Masters on their temporary trips."

"We'll see when we'll get to that point. Although I see no reason why they would deny me such a simple request. Now, come here," Lucas's voice dropped to a whisper as he helped Cory get up to straddle him. He slowly captured the servant's lips with his mouth, kissing him gently. 

"One for the road?" Cory interrupted the kiss to tease one of Lucas's ears with his teeth and lips. 

"You know me, you little naughty one," Lucas grabbed his hips and pushed him down so Cory could feel his erection.

"I guess we should take care of that," Cory giggled in the crook of Lucas's neck. He got up only to take his perfunctory servant clothes off.

He palmed Lucas's engorged shaft through the black silk pants. The man grunted.

"Hurry," the brunet demanded.

"Why?" Cory smiled naughtily, continuing his explorations without speeding up the pace.

"Because we will be late," Lucas tried to look sternly at him, but failed, his mind already fogged by desire.

Eventually, the servant took pity and freed Lucas's cock from their confines. Looking straight into Lucas's eyes, he slowly pushed the weeping organ into his mouth, moaning softly while tasting it to the fullest. A small flutter of his long lashes was the only sign that he wasn't as much in control as he wanted to be.

"Oh, Cory," Lucas whispered softly. "You know how to drive me crazy."

Cory let the now moist organ slip from his mouth and straightened up to straddle his master again.

"Crazy?" he giggled. "How about the age of rationale, Lucas?" he dropped the honorific on purpose, knowing how much his official owner loved to hear him talk like that when alone.

"I don't care about anything else when I have you in my arms," Lucas spoke as his fingers dug into Cory's hips, steadying him and helping him descend slowly into his cock.

"What would anyone think hearing you speak like that?" Cory teased, while caressing Lucas's face and kissing him softly.

"They would think I should spank the naughty servant daring to question me like that," Lucas's lips widened into a grin.

Cory felt the sting, as Lucas playfully slapped one sexy buttock. He bit his bottom lip and threw his head back. In the same time, his ass was deliciously squeezing Lucas's cock, making the brunet buck upwards, to get inside the scorching heat deeper and deeper.

"You like this," Lucas spoke heatedly. "You like it when I get a bit rough, don't you?"

"I like it because you like it," Cory said honestly, while impaling himself in the man's hard as steel member.

Lucas's hands moved to grab fistfuls of blond hair. Cory was forced to bend to meet his lover's hungry lips, while he tried to keep his feet on the floor, in order to allow Lucas to continue his torturous pounding. As always, he was the one to come first, making a mess on Lucas's shirt. When his lover released his pent up desire inside, he was certain he would have a hard time walking normally that day. Lucas was large, but it was just one of the myriads of things he loved about the man. Each time they fucked, he could feel the man, he could still feel him when he was no longer inside, and there was just a receding, dull ache he craved to feel again.

~A Good Servant~

Dion did not see John at all that day. It felt strange to walk alone to work, after having the dark, morose man by his side each day. As he was seeing about his routine tasks, he suddenly felt exhausted. Was it really worth fighting to prove something he was not? John's actions spoke louder than words. He probably did not want anything to have with him, now that he knew how many men had had him back in Drena. Probably, John was thinking Dion was just like Andreas, or worse. Dion was even weaker, as he allowed a creep like Antoine to play with him like he was nothing but a useless toy.

Or maybe John felt pity? Dion didn't want anyone's pity. To think that he had tried to explain to the man why he wasn't so thrilled to have sex. He shook his head, feeling sadness washing over him. What was going to be? John angry all the time, thinking of how Dion used to just bend for everyone like a doormat? Or John walking around like on egg shells, because he was afraid Dion just might break if someone as much as breathed in his presence?

For what was worth, the man had done for Dion much more than anyone else. He had took Dion in, offered him shelter and protection. But the redhead didn't want to abuse anyone's kindness, especially since John showed pretty much that he could not stomach Dion's confession about the servant's past life.

What did he have to offer, really? He was nothing but a reject, someone everybody saw as the means to satisfy their primal needs and nothing else. The foreman had been right. Everything was dictated in his life by his looks; he was pretty, that was all he was. He could not impose on John anymore. He had to leave and see about his life on his own.

At lunch time, instead of going to the cafeteria, he went straight to the foreman's office. 

The man looked annoyed when he interrupted.

"I just want to let you know that I will not come again tomorrow," he said simply, without even taking a seat.

"Why?" the man questioned. "You're a good worker and you have a partner."

"I don't belong here," Dion shrugged and the man just shook his head and took a file from a drawer. 

He mumbled something, while fiddling with the papers.

"Are you sure? You look like a decent fellow to me," the older man looked at him, a bit upset.

"It is for the best," Dion cast his eyes down.

"Alright," the foreman sighed. "But I tell you this. You go straight to Venusville, or any other club. You decide you hate it, you come back. I'm not closing your file. Just this one time. If you come back, you stay here, no more wandering about. Have you talked to John about this?"

Dion shook his head. "We don't get along that well. And I won't come back," he said stubbornly.

"Young people," the foreman seemed to speak mostly to himself. "Get out of my office. I give you three days and you'll come running back."

Dion murmured a thanks and left. That day, he asked his supervisor to leave earlier, so he could gather the few things he had from John's house and be on his way.

~A Good Servant~

Cory looked over the crowd, searching for Lucas with his eyes. It felt reassuring to seek for his lover and almost always seeing the dark eyes looking back at him, like they were linked through some invisible thread that helped them both find each other and communicate without words even in a room full of strangers.

This time, though, Lucas was rising from the table, being guided by another Master, most probably to a private room they were using at times to discuss more delicate details of the projects they were working on.

He barely saw Lucas's strong back disappearing from his view when his arm was grabbed forcefully and a voice he knew very well whispered menacingly into his ear.

"Long time no see, Cory," the slave spoke and the servant felt a bit of uneasiness hearing the well known voice. 

He took a deep breath and turned to face Antoine, smiling. If he was going to dodge the slave's advances, he had to be really clever about it. 

"Hi Antoine," he faked pleasure upon seeing the slave. 

A hand moved to cup his jaw, tightening its grip a bit too much. 

"I missed you," Antoine spoke again, but his eyes were cold, and Cory felt uneasiness turning into something akin to fear.

"I know, I did, too," Cory lied.

"I don't see your Master anywhere," Antoine pretended to search the room for Lucas, although Cory's senses were screaming at him that the blue eyed slave had known exactly when to time his entrance. 

"You're not supposed to be here," Cory said softly. 

"I could not help it," Antoine answered. "I had to see you. Come with me, no one will notice," he dragged Cory along, and the servant followed, his heart smaller and smaller.

He was pushed through a side door, and his eyes blinked in the darkness. Antoine closed the door behind them and only then turned on the light. 

Cory froze. He was in one of those rooms reserved for preparing the slaves, and there were at least a dozen of them present. As usual, they were all naked and they were all looking at him. He could taste danger floating in the air. No one was smiling; they were just staring.

Cory's eyes felt drawn to the fireplace. The atmosphere was hot, too hot; and he could see something burning there. A metal cane? 

"What's this?" he tried to force a smile while turning towards Antoine.

The slave didn't answer. He just circled Cory with slow, predatory moves. 

"Tell me, Cory, how much you missed me?" he eventually spoke. 

Cory forced himself to remain unmoved. "You know how much," he angled his head slightly.

"No, no, no, I don't," Antoine raised an accusatory finger. "Rumor has it you're thinking you're better than the rest of us because Lord Lucas chose you to warm his bed."

Cory shook his head gently. "It's nothing like that. I've always had eyes only for you," he stared Antoine in the eyes and he could see the slave's resolve faltering.

"Antoine," he heard another slave talking, "stick to the plan."

The brunet's eyes became steel and he sneered. "Don't worry about it, guys. I know what I have to do."

He grabbed Cory by one arm and twisted it painfully. 

"Antoine," Cory breathed out, "why?"

"Because no one takes me for a fool, servant," the brunet whispered in his ear and pushed him down. 

Others came around them, and started to tear Cory's clothes from his body. He tried to shake them off, but they were too strong and too many. 

He didn't want others to touch him. He knew he had to just go slack and let them, to minimize the damage, but he couldn't. Not after Lucas had held him in his arms and made love to him, making him feel like he really mattered. He thrashed against the hands holding him down, and a kick in the ribs made him recoil from the pain.

"Stay still, you fucking whore," Antoine hissed, when Cory managed to free one leg and kick blindly one of his assailants. 

He was soon completely naked, his limbs stretched painfully in different directions. There was a short moment of silence during which nothing but his labored breath could be heard.

"Guys, do you think Lord Lucas would like Cory more if we mess him up a little? Or less?"

The others laughed. His head pressed into the carpet, he could not see what Antoine was up to. When he felt the first sting against his naked back, his stomach clenched so badly that acid rushed upwards, burning his throat. 

"Nice, Antoine," he heard another slave speaking. "You managed to break skin. But I think he's enjoying it. Make him scream."

White pain shot through his brain, as another blow came. He wanted to keep it in, but, at the third, he had to scream. It was like all his nerve endings were raw, exposed. 

"You can go ahead and fuck him," Antoine told the others. "I doubt he's capable of any resistance now."

Cory felt his ass cheeks parted roughly and the first slave pushing inside. He steeled himself against the invasion, despite the pain burning his entire back.

"I cannot," he heard the slave complained. "He's too tight."

"Fucking wuss," Antoine moved to push the slave aside. 

Something blunt was pushed against his hole, and Cory felt something pouring hot down his legs. He could only imagine it was his own blood. A hand was in his hair, his head made to turn painfully. Antoine hovered over him.

"How is it, slut?" he teased. "Am I better than Lucas? Do you like it when I fuck you?"

Antoine was pounding him recklessly, and something in Cory's mind became suddenly clear and focused.

"No," he mumbled, conscious of the streaks of saliva pouring from his mouth. "You're not. You're the worst. Even the lowest servant is better than you."

That seemed to drive Antoine crazy. He pulled at Cory's hair hard, making the servant's head snap back. 

"Good to know, slut. Here's my last spurt for you," he pushed inside one last time, and came with a growl.

There was a short break for Cory, as Antoine rose from his body.

"You can do whatever you want with him," Antoine spat. 

The rest became a blur, as his body was used. He closed his eyes and thought of Lucas, of all the happiness he had enjoyed in the man's warm embrace. This meant nothing. He was more than just his body. And he knew Antoine was wrong. Lucas saw more in him than flawless skin.

Eventually it was over, and he could feel them just moving about, around him. 

Antoine crouched next to him, while he was still kept there, on the floor. 

"So, Cory," the slave spoke, "how is Lucas going to keep you, now that he will know you're nothing but a cum bucket?"

He said nothing. Antoine carded his fingers through Cory's damp hair. "He won't keep you," the slave answered his own question. "Even if he wants to. Now let me give you my farewell present. Bring it!" he yelled at the others.

His arm was stretched painfully, and his eyes grew wide when he saw the reddened piece of metal contorted in some kind of intricate design getting close to his skin. He tried to move, but the slaves were keeping him down. Antoine's eyes were burning with madness, as he pressed the heated iron against his shoulder. 

He doubted he had ever felt something as painful as that. His eyes rolled in his head and he fainted. 

"We should take a hike, Antoine," one of the slaves hurried him. "Do you think he'll tell on us?"

"And if he does, what?" Antoine snapped. "He's nothing but a servant. He'll be out of Drena in a heartbeat."

"Hey, Antoine, why don't you cut his face, too?" another encouraged him.

Antoine grabbed Cory's chin and turned the limp head towards him. "And leave nothing for the trash outside of Drena that will want to fuck him? No, just like Dion, he has to learn his lesson."

The servant's ravaged body was left there, bleeding. Antoine spared him a last glance with an unreadable expression on his face. He grimaced; a glass of wine would have to do, to wash the unpleasant taste in his mouth.

~A Good Servant~

The bouncer at the door was looking sleepy as he gathered his guts about him and walked straight to him.

"John's pretty thing," the man smiled and looked Dion over appreciatively. 

"I'm looking for work," Dion fiddled nervously with his duffel bag.

"Seriously?" the man's eyes grew wide. 

Dion nodded.

"Well, there is plenty of work for you here, sugar," the bouncer moved out of the way and Dion walked in.




A Good Servant Ch. 12



A rough hand fondled his ass. "Put me on your list, honey," the man whispered and Dion shuddered. "The boss's office is at the end of the hall, to the right. He'll be more than happy to see you."

Dion let out a breath, noticing the club to be empty at that hour. He knocked softly on the door, but no one answered. Eventually, he started to knock louder and louder, until someone yelled at him to come in.

He looked at the disheveled man behind the desk, and could barely refrain pursing his lips in disgust. But who was he to judge?

"I would like to work here," he offered an explanation and the man's expression turned from annoyance to delight.

"Take off your clothes, then," he said with a sneer, and Dion let the bag fall on the floor, and undressed with efficient, short moves.

The man lay back and looked appreciatively at Dion up and down. 

"I think you'll be our next sensation, sweetie," the man nodded. "Now, how about coming over here on your knees and showing me a bit of gratitude?"

Dion stared him in the eyes. He was not going to be a victim anymore. "I heard I am only supposed to strip, and nothing else," he said calmly, and the man's smile froze on his lips. "And I heard no one can force me to do something I do not want."

The man frowned and then laughed, throwing his head back. Yet Dion knew he played his card right this time.

"Oh, cutie, you really think that, don't you? Well, you're gorgeous, so I won't let you run to the competition. But I'll give you a bit of time; you'll adjust. Soon you will be like anyone else. Plus, nobody likes a whore who doesn't put out. How long are you going to resist here with no friends?"

You have no idea, Dion thought and remained standing straight, looking the man square in the eyes. The other laughed again.

"I have to give it to you. You're a bit fiery, like your hair, aren't you? I bet they'll be raining credits on your ass tonight. I'll show you to your room. Get enough rest, you'll need it."

~A Good Servant~

The grey ghosts remained unmoved as Lord Lucas spoke. 

"Servants are replaceable," the Head Trainer spoke. "Why is this one so important?"

"I thought Masters were respected in Drena," Lucas spoke sharply. "My property," he emphasized the word, "was treated as he didn't belong to one of the most powerful Rulers in the city. It is an insult, and I demand proper retribution."

"Maybe Lord Arnaud should offer one of his servants in return? Maybe even the slave in question?"

Lord Arnaud moved to protest, but Lucas intervened again.

"I do not want that despicable thing. I want the rabid dog to be put to sleep!" he could no longer contain his anger in.

His voice echoed against the tall ceiling. It seemed like for one second, everyone in the room forgot how to breathe. Eventually, Lord Arnaud gathered his wits to speak.

"I know Antoine can be difficult at times. But slaves are more valuable than servants. And Lord Lucas's demand is simply ludicrous. It's not like the servant was demised. He was just used," he pursed his lips in slight disgust.

"And beaten and branded," Lucas hissed. "Trainers, you do realize this Antoine is a menace to everyone with his mad dog behavior. It is in our society's best interest if such elements were not kept around, to cause distress and damage."

"Your demand is impossible to satisfy, Lord Lucas," the Head Trainer spoke again. "If you do not wish for Lord Arnaud to replace the damaged servant, there is nothing we can do. You should consider, nonetheless, getting another servant. The current one will take a long time to recover. We will take good care of him."

"No, he will recover at my house. I hope you are not imposing on me to simply abandon what belongs to me," Lucas's lips almost trembled as he spoke. 

"This wish is granted," the Head Trainer rose, signaling that the meeting was over.

~A Good Servant~

Dion sat on the narrow bed, his fingers linked together, staring at the ceiling, contemplating his life and what it had become. Could he survive in this harsh place that didn't seem to agree with him? He had never been a whore on his own accord. It had always been forced; now he was basically choosing a line of work that was telling him he was going to be exactly that: a whore. Yet, in a twisted, unnatural way, it seemed the only possibility, since the foreman had been clear about not allowing him to tease the other guys at work, without choosing one. He had chosen one, and it had been a mistake.

No, Dion pondered. John had not been a mistake. He had not been a bad choice. But Dion could not stand looking into the man's deep black eyes and see nothing but pity or disgust there. That was something he really did not want to live with. And it had been right to choose so, if he wanted what was best for John. After all, the man had the right to be free and go after another. Being dragged in a relationship he did not want, or preferring to wander the night clubs in search of release, was not something Dion wanted to picture for John.

The door opened and Dion rose to see who the intruder was.

"I'll be damned ..." Andreas placed his hands on his hips while looking down at Dion.

In natural light, Andreas looked a bit different and, unfortunately for him, it wasn't exactly a flattering look. There was a bit of bitterness hanging from the corners of his beautiful lips, and the large blue eyes were marred by dark circles. Dion could bet he looked older than his actual age.

The redhead chose to say nothing. He had no unpaid dues to John's ex.

"Did John kick you out? Or did you leave?" Andreas tried to fake indifference, while climbing on his own bed, placed on the opposite wall. 

"None of your business," Dion said icily. 

It was against his nature to be impolite to others, but he was in no mood for idle conversation, especially about such a delicate subject.

"Oh, kitty has claws ..." Andreas commented and yawned. "Get some sleep," he turned to one side while embracing his pillow. "They will be all over you tonight. Just don't touch my regulars and I'll be out of your hair," the blond commented.

"I won't touch anyone," Dion murmured.

"No shit. Boss told me you acted almighty and shit while asking him for a job. Of course, the pervert won't turn down a piece of ass, regardless. Take this little advice from me, sugar queen; give in fast, or you won't last long."

The threat was left hanging in the air. It made Dion feel restless, all of a sudden. The foreman had been clear about any crimes being punished severely, but what if ...? He shuddered. He was going to be cautious. There were no fairytales, and even in Drena, where everything looked beautiful, there was nothing but vanity and ugliness beneath. At least here no one was pretending to be something he was not.

~A Good Servant~

"You're next," Andreas pushed by him, throwing him a sideway glance. 

The applauses that had praised Andreas for his performance just earlier were dying out. Dion took a deep breath. If he was just going to see about the routine Andreas had showed him, without hiding his annoyance, just earlier, and think of nothing, he was going to be fine. 

He heard the commentator's voice introducing him like through a haze and stepped on the stage. For some reason, the music wasn't starting yet, and he could hear the sound of his heels against the glossy floor too clearly. 

He was wearing high leather boots that were going up to mid thigh, and a glitzy thong he was certain it wasn't covering much. There was certainly something they had lied to him about it. This wasn't stripping; he was already as good as naked. He hoped at least the part about no one touching him was real. 

For several moments, during which Dion stood there, all the lights on him, almost blinding him, there was silence. Then someone whistled and suddenly catcalls could be heard from everywhere. To his relief, the music started playing and he began moving his hips slowly. 

It wasn't hard at all, he mused, as he kneeled on the stage and began undulating to the music, making sure everyone was getting an eyeful. He stretched lazily, carding his long fingers through his hair, then letting them roam over his naked body. He knew that the climax of his show was to take off the boots and then the thong, but he was not there yet. 

The music was suddenly cut and he blinked, confused. He rose, unsure of what that was supposed to mean. The commentator appeared on the stage next to him again. He grabbed Dion's waist and started speaking into his mike.

"Should we give Dion a warm welcome party to Venusville?" he asked the audience.

Dion froze. He knew what a welcome party meant, at least inside Drena. 

The crowd roared. The commentator waited for the noise to die out, then continued.

"Then place your bets, gents. Whoever wins, gets a private show from our beautiful redhead here, and the privilege to see him completely naked before anyone else. And, of course, if you are smooth enough," the man sneered, "you may convince lovely Dion here to offer you something on top of everything for your effort."

Dion closed his eyes. He had to endure this. It was, after all, part of what he had signed for. Suddenly, he sensed a change in the ruckus dominating the room. When he opened his eyes, he saw John jumping on the stage and walking towards him with a terrifying look in his eyes. He was grabbed forcefully and shaken by strong hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here, Dion?" John said through his teeth.

"Hey, hey," the commentator tried to push him back. "Place your bet like everyone else if you want to cop a feel, man!"

John ignored him, too focused on searching Dion's eyes with his. 

"Answer me," he said menacingly. 

Dion tried to shake him off. "I'm doing the only thing I'm good at."

"You're mine," John said ferociously. "And I am telling you you're not good at this. You're good with me. Come home now," he took Dion by the hand and tried to drag him along.

Apparently, John's act had quickly awakened the bouncer at the door from his stupor, and the giant was now trying to get through the crowd to settle the situation happening on stage. 

"John," the bouncer called. "Take a hike, man. He chose to come here to work."

"He is my partner," John said through his teeth, not backing down and dragging Dion closer to him, almost making him stumble. "I am not letting anyone touch him!"

There was yelling from all sides and Dion felt fear growing inside him. John wasn't realizing he was putting himself in danger! He tried to disentangle his hand from John's, but the man's grip was hard as steel. 

"What is going on?"

Even the owner of the place had been summoned, Dion noticed.

"John here doesn't understand his sweetheart doesn't want him and wants to strip for cash instead," the commentator explained.

"Get him out of here," the boss demanded in a high pitched voice. 

The bouncer moved to separate John from Dion, but the dark tall man didn't budge. 

"If anyone touches my lover, he'll have to go through me," John said menacingly and pushed Dion just slightly back so he could assume a fighting stance. 

The bouncer moved to hit him, but, for his height, John proved to be quite easy on his feet, as he dodged the man's heavy punch with ease. Without waiting for another opportunity, John hit the giant square in the face, making him grab his nose while screaming. Blood started pouring through his fingers, and the bouncer took the hands from his face and stared at his own blood like he could not believe it. He launched as a mad man at John and this time he managed to hit the other. The element of surprise was soon gone, though, and the worker easily dodged again and executed the bouncer with a short elbow between his shoulder blades.

The entire room felt like caught on fire. Dion was shaking, he could not understand a word he was hearing. The commentator grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear. 

"Get your demented boyfriend and get out of here," he hissed and pushed Dion towards John. 

Behind the commentator, the club owner tried to maintain some resemblance of control:

"Yeah, get the fuck out of here, both of you! And never come back or I'll take this higher! I'll talk to your foreman, John, don't you think I won't! And take your fucking tramp with you!"

John turned with murder in his eyes. Dion hurried by his side and pushed him to move. 

"Let's go, please, John," he said quickly. The bouncer showed signs that he was going to get up from the floor, and Dion didn't want to see another round in the boxing match between the guy and John.

Dark eyes stared into his angrily. He didn't cower though; anything John had to say, he was going to say it and Dion was going to listen. Right now, all that mattered was for both of them to get out of the club unscathed. 

"Hey, John, why don't you let your boyfriend show us the goods?" one man from the audience spoke loudly and everyone laughed. 

"Yeah, man, he wants to, what the hell?" another commented. 

"He has no idea what he wants," John said loud and clear, without taking his eyes off Dion. 

"Yeah, be the man," another voice encouraged him then. 

John grabbed Dion's waist and for a second, the redhead thought the man was going to kiss him right there in front of everyone. Instead, he was lifted almost effortlessly off the floor and thrown over a taut shoulder. The room turned upside down in a split second. 

He could hear everyone laughing and pointing fingers at them from all directions. He tried to move and punched John's back with all his might, yelling at him to put him down. John seemed to have lost his sense of hearing all of a sudden, as he ignored him, while walking in long strides towards the door. Apparently, everyone was cheering John, from what he could gather from all the yelling.

~A Good Servant~

At some point, he gave up on trying to get John to release him from his hold. The man seemed both deaf and immune to his punching and shouting and was continuing his walk towards his house, without making as much as a sound. 

Only when they were inside, Dion was unceremoniously dropped on the sofa. He felt overly conscious about his state of undress. The reproach in John's eyes was clear. Embarrassed, he reached for the blanket to cover himself. A strong hand stopped him.

"No," John almost growled.

Dion gulped. Was John going to hit him?

"Stay like this. Show me. I earned your fucking private show," John spoke slowly.

The redhead could swear the air in the room was vibrating with the man's hurt. 

"You already saw me. You know how I look," Dion spoke, while grabbing his knees with his palms. The leather felt cheap beneath his fingers. 

John shook his head slowly. "You said this is the only thing you're good at. Show me," he demanded again. "Show me how you were planning to reward the guy who was going to place the highest bet on your ass tonight."

"I was only going to undress, that's all," Dion said in his defense.

"Really?" John sneered. "And after that? A blow job? Letting him have you? How? On your fours, you on top, eagle spread ... Tell me, enlighten me," he pressed.

He was not moving. He was standing there, towering over Dion, with that expression of deep hurt on his face that was making the redhead wanting nothing but to take John in his arms and tell him to stop saying those horrible things.

He shook his head and buried his face into his hands. "I wasn't going to ..."

"Yes, you were," John spoke again bitterly. "But I'm not letting you. I'm not letting you become Andreas. I don't care if you hate me for taking you away from there. You'll stay here, and I will take care of you, whether you like it or not. I don't know what fucked up games you guys like playing up there, in Drena. Here, things are simple. You are mine. From the moment you grabbed my arm and told the guys at work you chose me, you are mine. And nothing is going to change."

Dion was staring at John wide eyed. That was one hell of a confession. He rose slowly and carded his fingers through his hair. He smiled and looked John in the eyes. 

"What are you doing?" John demanded.

"I am showing you," Dion said simply.

John averted his eyes. "Don't take everything literally. I don't want you to behave like a slut and show me what you would have done for money. I don't have that much money, anyway."

Dion came closer and grabbed John's shirt, slowly opening it button by button. He reached inside and touched the man's hairy chest, caressing it slowly. The man didn't move away. His breath just became raspier. 

"I am not showing you that. I am showing you what I would like to do with you and no one else."

He leaned onto John's hard body and used his both hands to struggle with the belt. He took the man's erect cock from his pants and started stroking it. 

"Would you fuck me John?" he slowly raised his beautiful amber eyes to look into John's black ones. "I want you to fuck me."

He barely refrained a gasp, as impatient fingers pulled at the small thong and made the string snap. He was pushed on the floor, his legs parted, with the man on top of him. John buried his head in the crook of Dion's neck, groaning. Dion wet two fingers in his mouth and used them to lubricate himself. John's cock was hovering near his entrance, and he could hear the man now whimpering softly. 

"It's ok now," he encouraged him, and John pushed inside, making him escape a small short scream. 

John stopped, but Dion used his legs to grab the man's midsection with them and keep him there. "No, John. I said I want you to fuck me," he said bravely and this time the man moved, although a bit uneasy, burying himself little by little in Dion's body.

The redhead grabbed his partner's head in his hands and kissed him. John's mouth was hot on his, and their tongues started the dance they knew from past encounters only to now discover something new that both of them had craved for so long. 

John felt huge inside him, to the point Dion was afraid he could just break, but the way the man moved was compensating for the discomfort. There was something there, deep inside him, that resonated with John's slow thrusts like it had never happened before with anyone else. He freed his mouth so he could moan freely. 

"How is it, baby? Is it good?" John said almost pleading, and Dion realized the man was barely restraining himself from fucking him into the carpet. 

"Fuck me harder," he urged his lover and John's satisfied groan as he sped the rhythm confirmed his suspicion.

He felt his pleasure growing, the small bud inside his ass sending short bursts of pleasure through his spine, into his brain. It was the second time it felt so great to come, the second time with John, and the second time in his entire life. John praised him clumsily and poured himself fully into Dion's body. 

As he withdrew, Dion felt a bit deserted. He wanted to hold John close some more. The man moved and Dion's anxiety grew. Maybe that was all what John wanted from him. 

But the man bent and grabbed him by his back and legs and lifted him in his arms. 

"What are you doing?" Dion mumbled. 

"I am taking you to bed, love," John whispered, and kissed his damp forehead. "I hope you don't intend to have us sleep in the floor."

Dion nestled his head in John's shoulder. Never in his life, had he felt so protected.

*****

Author's Note:

This was really difficult to write and I really hope none of you are mad with me for having Cory suffer. It is important for the story, as you will see in the following chapter. There was more this time about John and Dion, and we left Ayn and Xav enjoy themselves on their own this time around. I wrote John and Dion's part first and it was satisfying, but after the episode with Cory, I just felt too emotionally wasted to turn to happy thoughts again. I hope John and Dion's story compensates for the ugly part.




A Good Servant Ch. 12



So, I would love to hear from you. Tell me what you think, straight and with no sugarcoating. What do you think will happen now? What should Lucas do to exact revenge? He had to keep his cool in front of the Trainers, but he's seething on the inside. Why do you think was Cory branded? (That is a bit that will play an important part in the story, and I've already chosen the symbol).

Next time, we'll take a trip across the continent, to Lucas's home town. Cory's adventures are just beginning, I promise! And yes, Chris, he is still the hero ;) I could never forget about him. He will continue to be the red thread that keeps everyone connected, and the key to everything. I felt just like you about him, that he is more fearless, driven by love, but fate is not always kind, and as the song says 'there are storms we cannot weather'. And don't worry, the grey ones, as you say, will play an important part and their role will be revealed at the right time. At the moment, no one knows what they really are, and ... as they discover, so will you and I.

DreamToCome, I am so glad you continue to enjoy and I hope the guys will continue to help you have nice dreams ... ;)

Cannd, as always, your elaborate comments are making me so happy. It is like having a dear friend noticing every little thing I thought about while writing, and, as it is often said, the author writes thinking about her readers, but, at times, one in particular becomes the one the author thinks is addressing as putting together the story. For your continuous interest and support, I deeply thank you.

All you guys on team John and Dion, I hope this chapter was to your liking. Their story was a bit of a side one, but I did enjoy writing about them. There will be less of them in the upcoming chapters, but they will return at opportune times.



A Good Servant Ch. 13



Warning: Minor character's death.

~A Good Servant~

A soft humming sound was caressing his sense of hearing. He tried to open his eyes, but the eyelids felt heavy as lead. Just as the tongue inside his mouth; some unarticulated sounds came out, and he could barely register they were just half words he was trying to speak.

A warm hand came to rest on his forehead. 

"Easy, you're safe here," he heard Lucas's voice, low as a whisper. 

Something sweet and moist was pushed past his lips and he allowed the intrusion. It felt good, cool against his heavy tongue. Soon enough, he descended back into his slumber.

Lucas rose and sighed. Recovery was going to take awhile. With proper care, the marks on Cory's back were going to heal. The ones in his heart were a different matter. And there was also the problem with the brand. The Head Trainer was not happy about it. He had clearly stated that letting a servant, damaged in such a manner, to continue to tend to a Master's needs in Drena, was undesirable. 

He had examined the burned flesh, barely containing the hatred he felt within. He had to focus on Cory's recovery at the moment and on convincing the Head Trainer to leave the young man in his service. But the future, which he had always thought of as being set in stone, each day resembling the other, with no big surprises, no high hopes, now seemed muddy and a cause of unease. 

There was a storm of emotions he was trying to cope with. Antoine escaping punishment without as little as a slap on the wrist, the Head Trainer's conviction that Lucas had to see about getting a different servant, and the raw intensity of the deep hatred he was nurturing inside felt as too much. He had to do something about it. But as much as he wanted to picture Antoine being tortured to death, each time Cory moved in his sleep, he had to place everything aside and tend to him immediately.

Now he had been summoned again. He had a distinct sensation he was not going to enjoy meeting the Head Trainer.

~A Good Servant~

"We fail to understand why you are so adamant on keeping a defective item in your household," the Head Trainer spoke slowly, as if Lucas was a child still rubbing his elbows against a school desk. 

"I thought I was free to choose who do I want to keep or not," Lucas answered sharply to the unspoken request.

"We would not normally deny such simple demands from our Rulers," the grey hood bent slightly, as in apology. "But there is also the issue of the brand burned on the servant's shoulder. It is still a mystery to us how the symbol emerged at such an inopportune time."

"I do not understand," Lucas murmured, for some reason feeling the chill in the room growing colder. "I have never seen the symbol and I do not see what importance it has."

"Something from old times," the Head Trainer gestured like he wanted to protect himself from some pesky insects. "It is the so called mark of a whore, and we find it simply distasteful. Keeping this servant inside the city walls will just remember everyone of a time when such barbaric acts were condoned. We believe punishment is love, and that it should be performed accordingly. Trying to shame someone is simply not done in a society like ours, and intimate activities are seen as natural for Masters and those who serve them to render the term 'whore' simply obsolete."

Lucas frowned. The Head Trainer seemed to dance around the subject. 

"He would be entirely covered by clothes in polite society. He is not a slave, so he would not be required to undress in public, either. The branded mark would not be visible."

"The only one exposed to its ugliness would be you, Lord Lucas," lifeless pools of darkness measured Lucas up and down, like they were trying to uncover some secret the man did not want to share.

"And I do not mind," Lucas added quickly. 

"It is not a matter whether you mind or not. We love all our children equally. Please do not see it like we want to deprive you of a preferred toy."

It took Lucas all the self restraint he was capable of to avoid saying something he was certainly going to regret later. The Head Trainer continued.

"We want to offer you perfection ..."

"Perfection is boring," Lucas blurted out.

"Please do not be difficult," the grey form moved with something akin with uneasiness in his chair. "We will give you time to adjust. We understand that you developed quite an attachment to this servant, so we will not take him away from you. At least not until you see the errors of your ways and decide to be in an accord with us."

"What do you plan to do with him?"

"The same thing we do with all the servants who complete their service. He will be sent to work the factories. Or the mines. Seeing his condition, he is probably going to be better working underground."

Lucas's heart skipped a few beats. 

"I would like to leave Drena. Could I take my servant with me? There are no such rules in Aeria," he spoke, trying hard not to just storm out of the room, grab Cory and leave right away.

"Leave Drena?" the Head Trainer's voice seemed disappointed. "At this time, we are afraid it is not possible. We have no other as brilliant as you to fill your position. As for your request, we hate to disappoint you, but as a person born here, Cory the servant needs to remain here."

Small bits of thoughts whirled in Lucas's mind. 

"Head Trainer," he spoke loud and clearly, "I must say that I am disappointed with how this was handled. First, my property is damaged, and no retribution is exacted, second, my wishes are condemned in your eyes. On top of everything, there is no investigation going on, searching for an explanation how the symbol you are talking about fell in the hands of my servant's attackers."

"An investigation?" the Head Trainer seemed intrigued.

"Yes. At least I can demand answers. If you have no intention to do so, I will ask the slave myself. Where did he get the iron branding cane from?"

The Head Trainer seemed to ponder. "In this respect, you are correct, Lord Lucas. We will see to finding answers. After all, it was an unfortunate event, and if Lord Arnaud had not been so attached to his slave, some punishment would have been in order."

Lucas knew when a meeting with the Head Trainer was over. He rose, bent rigidly and left. The uneasiness inside him was growing stronger. He had being pushed against his will. It was a matter of time until they would take Cory away from him. Even if he was to beg, he knew the Head Trainer was not going to revise his position in that regard. For the first time in his life, Lucas was starting to question everything he believed in.

~A Good Servant~

Good relationships with traders were not only required of Rulers, but they were also useful. Carefully rolling the paper and placing it in a beautifully ornate stylus, Lucas waited for the merchant to appear. He was not particularly fond of Vacchiari, but, in time, he had learned he was a man to be trusted. Within reason. There was a small cipher locking the stylus so that the merchant could not find the content of the message. 

He handed the middle aged man the stylus and a small card. "Please see that professor Edgar receives this. It is very important that you give him this gift directly," Lucas looked Vacchiari in the eyes. "No one else must know."

The traded nodded and palmed the stylus and the card on which some boring greeting like words were printed. Vacchiari had been in the trade for a long time to know when a good deal could be struck from keeping secrets.

A few days later, one professor Edgar in Aeria, Lucas's old friend and confidante, was studying the card and the stylus with a frown on his face. He scratched his head and sniffed the stylus then played with it, rolling it between his bony fingers. 

"A good game of hide and seek like back in the days, Lucas?" he spoke out loud, making his tomcat stare at him with condescendence. It was just something the cat did whenever Edgar was talking to himself. 

It had always been entertaining to play those games with Lucas. His leaving for Drena had not meant the end of their friendship, though. A click was all that was needed to make the stylus open. Edgar rolled the small paper on his mahogany desk, way too overcrowded with papers of all shapes and sizes, filled with his small, tormented scribbles. He stared at the symbol while tapping his fingers against the wood.

"And what exactly is this supposed to mean?"

Lucas's message was clear. "Edgar, please tell me what this symbol is all about."

"Yes, Lucas, and that is easier said than done," Edgar straightened his back, making a few vertebrae pop. He was anxious for a new challenge. Working all day and all night on improving the new gate system had felt him a bit unsatisfied lately. Now he had something to play with.

~A Good Servant~

"It is a wonderful morning," Lucas spoke while helping Cory to get up and woke slowly to sit in a rocking chair in front of the window.

Cory didn't need words to let him know what his lover felt. His handsome face had become a little gaunt and there was a deep frown on his forehead that Cory knew too well it had not been there before.

"How are you, Lucas?" he spoke hoarsely. He was still getting adjusted to speak again. It felt a bit unnatural.

"This is something I should ask you," Lucas said with tenderness, while caressing Cory's hand as if it was made of some fragile material, bound to break at the slightest wrong move.

"That would be redundant," Cory said wistfully. "You've cared for me all this time, haven't you?"

Lucas's strong fingers curled with tenderness against Cory's smaller hand. 

"What happened? You know, to ... them?" he asked with difficulty.

Lucas shook his head. Containing the rage and anger he felt within was taking its toll on his sanity as it was. Cory understood without words.

"Don't worry. It is as expected. When will they send me away?" he asked, while staring out the window. 

"They won't," Lucas's voice sounded hollow. "I won't let them!"

Cory moved his hand to grab Lucas's fingers tightly. "I knew it was not going to last. For what is worth, it was a beautiful dream, Lucas. I will always have this, for the days to come."

"Don't talk like this!" Lucas almost shouted. "I'll do everything! They say I can still keep you!"

"Lucas," Cory spoke tenderly. "It is not like how we were taught. We break the rules. We pay for it. We knew it very well, both you and me."

"What are you talking about? No one tells a Master, a Ruler even, what to do," Lucas's voice vibrated with emotion. "There are no rules."

"But there are. Servants are nothing but a commodity to be moved around. My time here is done."

Lucas let go of his hand. 

"Is this what you want, Cory? What you really want?"

"A servant's wish is not important."

"There is no one else but you and me here. Tell me what you want and I will change the world," Lucas spoke passionately, while pacing the room behind Cory.

Cory's heart grew smaller in his chest. "A good servant never questions his betters. A good servant never speaks out of turn. A good servant never falls in love with his master," words grew thinner, weaker in his mouth. 

Lucas came to kneel next to his chair. Green eyes searched blues once serene as the summer sky. 

"What are you speaking of, Cory? Tell me right now."

A thin hand caressed Lucas's face, imprinting every feature in its wake. "Is it that hard to understand? I love you, Lucas, and for this, I will have to leave. You cannot jeopardize your position for someone like me."

"Someone like you?" Lucas's hands closed over his. "There will never be someone like you. No one has ever made me feel as alive as you do. For a while, I thought I was simply infatuated, but not anymore. They had to hurt you to make me realize ..."

Thin fingers pressed against Lucas's lips to silence him. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. They dragged me from there, and now they send me back. And you will be fine, too. Me staying here will only cause you pain and unhappiness. At least, outside of Drena, enemies come straight at you if they have something against you. They do not lurk in shadows. At least, that was what I knew."

"I will protect you," Lucas begged Cory with his eyes.

"And they will all laugh at you. They will wear you down, day after day. And will I be safe, really? By now, I suppose what happened is all over Drena. I doubt I would make any new friends." 

He forced a small smile. "Not that I had many to begin with. But that is not what I'm worried most."

"Then what is it?" Lucas's eyes were filled with worry and regret. "I should not have left that day, leave you alone ..."

"Lucas, it is not the slaves who are the most dangerous," Cory spoke softly. If it was one thing Lucas didn't know about was how he had laid so many hours on his suffering bed, thinking. 

"Antoine," Lucas hissed.

"Not even him," Cory grimaced and closed his eyes tightly. "He did not do it because he hated me. Or, better said, not only because of that. They said something ... something strange. I remember well how he wavered when I tried to reach him. It was one split second, but it was like, if it was on his own accord, he would have just pushed me around at best. Not ..." he drew a deep breath, "not all this. They told him to 'stick to the plan'. It was all staged. It was not just a random episode of violence. It was prepared. Do you really see Antoine being capable of acting on more than mere impulse? You must not forget I have known him for a while."

His other hand traveled to his shoulder, as if he was trying to feel the brand with his fingers through his shirt. 

"And this," he added softly. "For Antoine and the rest, it would have been enough to fuck me and beat me. Why this?"

"It is something I am trying to find out," Lucas spoke. 

"What do the Trainers say?" Cory questioned. "They hold the truth."

"Not this time, it seems."

"How ... how does it look like? I feel like my shoulder is getting better."

"You are going to heal."

"I know. I could not see it very well. I would like to see it," he said, staring into Lucas's eyes.

He was helped to his feet and moved slowly in front of a mirror. He drew a deep breath as Lucas gently unbuttoned his shirt and took the sleeve on his right arm off. He looked into the mirror. 

"It looks like a flower of sorts. Why did they do it?"

"Apparently," Lucas helped him get the sleeve on again, "it is supposed to be shameful."

"What is the point? I do not know what it means."

"The Trainers say it is the main reason why I should consider sending you away. They say it is ... distasteful. A remembrance of times past."

"Times past? I thought the world was always like this. I do not understand."

"Me neither. But I don't care. If there is something that someone is trying to keep away from me, I will do my best to find out. Now, please, you must return to bed. You are yet to fully recover."

Cory turned and let his forehead rest on his master's shoulder. "Can I ask for a favor?" he spoke softly.

"Of course you can," Lucas caressed his head with infinite tenderness.

"Please stay with me at night."

It was a request so simply spoken, yet containing so many unsaid words, that Lucas felt his heart growing smaller. He took Cory's hand and guided him towards his own bedroom. If Cory was to be sent away, at least he could do was to keep him close for the remaining time they had together.

~A Good Servant~

"Mister Whiskers," Edgar pointed his pencil towards his cat that was watching him from his vantage point on top of the cabinet, "I think we have something interesting to transmit to Lord Lucas in Drena. What do you say? Do you like a good story?"

To demonstrate his total disinterest in his master's intellectual tribulations, the tomcat closed his eyes and stretched lazily.

Edgar pushed his thin rimmed glasses back on his nose. He carefully rolled the small map together with the text he had written for Lucas. An unfamiliar ticklish sensation was making him excited and nervous in the same time; it was not like him to do something against the rules. But as he and Lucas often said, knowledge was always worth breaking the rules.

~A Good Servant~

Lucas waited patiently for the door to close after Vacchiari. He unlocked the stylus and took out the two papers. 

"La fleur de lys," Lucas murmured, looking thoughtfully over the text written in Edgar's chaotic handwriting. 

He took a seat. As he was reading, a play of emotions animated his face. Surprise, disbelief, worry, and finally, determination lit his face. The Trainers were not going to send Cory to the mines outside of Drena. He was going to do that.

He looked at the old map and traced the barely visible lines. He then returned to the symbol and pressed the tip of his fingers against the three petals.

"For those who work, those who fight, and those who pray," he repeated the words written by Edgar right under the symbol.

~A Good Servant~

An appreciative whistle made Xavier turned with an affronted look in his beautiful grey eyes. He probably missed a few things from Drena. Such as his privacy when taking a shower. He could not say he really minded, although the playful slap across his buttocks that followed made him grind his teeth a little.

"You could knock," he murmured and turned back to see about washing his body, while trying to ignore Ayn's radiating heat.

"And miss having you in a hissy fit again?" Ayn circled his waist and pressed his naked body against Xavier's. "I love it when you're angry. It makes the sex so much better," he drawled the words into the other's ear, while biting it.

"You are so full of yourself," Xavier rolled his eyes, a bit miffed at how his own cock stirred to life, as Ayn's rough hand brushed over it, with seemingly no intention to actually grab it and give it a good rub.

"I learned from the best," Ayn whispered seductively in his ear, letting his hands roam over Xavier's perfect torso until they found purchase in erect nipples that grew instantly harder when pinched.

"You are developing quite an obsession," Xavier's breathing grew rugged, as Ayn began twisting his nipples between his fingers, sending jolts of electricity straight to his cock.

"Just admit it. You're into this big time," Ayn teased, while placing a trace of small kisses on the man's right shoulder. 

"No," Xavier denied a bit too quickly.

"Xav, baby, you're absolutely fucking lying," Ayn rubbed his own growing erection against Xavier's perfect buttocks. 

Xavier pushed back to allow the intrusion. It was, after all, what he truly wanted. No matter how much he hated to admit, and he would have been caught dead rather than do that, Ayn had proved to be a skillful considerate lover. The fact that the brunet had learned everything from wooing girls was not sitting well with him, but he had to swallow it. At least, he had been the first man in Ayn's life, and that had to count for something. 

"Xa-vi-er," he spelled stubbornly, as Ayn used his fingers, coated with something slick and wet to open him and then push inside slowly. "And don't call me 'baby'. It's cheesy."

Ayn grunted with satisfaction, as he buried himself deep inside Xavier's compliant body. It didn't matter than the man was still running his mouth about not wanting it. 

"How should I call you, then? My darling? My love?" Ayn punctured each one of his words with slow, torturous thrusts. 

It was not the word bothering him, but the fact that Ayn was saying it so casually.

"No," he said again. "Xavier would suffice."

"That won't do," Ayn said simply. "You're Xav to me, because no one else has ever called you that. And no one else should dare unless they want to piss me off."





A Good Servant Ch. 13



Naming was taking into possession, Xavier thought as one of Ayn's hands descended on his neglected cock and started jerking it, while its owner continued his pounding. It made him feel so incredibly aroused to be manipulated, taken like that, as if Ayn didn't give a damn who Xavier was or who he pretended to be. 

Their moans mingled, bouncing against the walls of the small bathroom. All the riches in the world meant nothing, Xavier thought, as he was fucked by Ayn so totally, so thoroughly, that he could not even start to think what it meant. 

He came first, spewing his load on the wall in front of him, and he felt Ayn stilling himself and shouting his release. It always felt as a victory for Ayn and as some kind of sweet surrender from his part.

What mattered most was that each and every time, Ayn was making him turn to kiss him some more even if both were spent and satiated. Xavier felt like this was counting for Ayn, and he was more than happy to oblige, during their moments of bliss. 

"You're an amazing kisser," Ayn praised, as they eventually broke the contact so they could breathe. "Even back in that city of assholes, I still loved your kisses."

Ayn caressed Xavier's cheek, his eyes glued to the man's lips. "And a great cocksucker, too," he added, as he bent and stole another kiss.

"Just great?" Xavier pushed him back a little, casting his eyes down.

"No, the best," Ayn smiled and embraced Xavier, pressing their body close together. "My very best in all the ways."

~A Good Servant~

The slave moved around slowly, circling his victim. The other man sat on his knees, his eyes closed, waiting for the final act of humiliation. Antoine got closer and, as everyone cheered, he pumped his cock and grunted his release, painting the man's face with his jizz. Victories seemed hollow lately. But he was playing his part, just like each and every time; it was the surest way to maintain in Arnaud's good graces. Sooner or later, he was going to be too old, so being on top of everyone proved that he was still good enough to keep. Many slaves around him didn't know this simple truth. They were kept in Drena for one year or two, then sent to serve the brothels destined for tourists or sold up north. What happened to those, nobody knew. There were whispers, rumors and gossip, but Antoine cared for none of them. Keeping his head on his shoulders was what mattered most.

He rubbed his cock a few more times against the other's lips, then turned on his heels and left the arena. Arnaud gave him a nod; the Master was pleased. So Antoine had to be, as well.

He went straight for the slaves' quarters, feeling in terrible need of a shower. He was too lost in his thoughts, so he barely avoided bumping into someone who seemed to have appeared in front of him out of nowhere.

With a frown, he looked up. He blinked, barely hiding his surprise.

"Lord Lucas," he said thinly. Cory's Master. Out of all people, he had to bump into this one, now, when he was alone, and the hallways seemed suddenly very empty.

"I will tell you just this one time," the man spoke rarely, and Antoine could taste the threat wrapped in each and every word. "You made a powerful enemy. Don't think this is the end. For what you did, you are going to pay."

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, to laugh the menace off, but Lord Lucas moved past him, without sparing him a glance. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

He pushed the doors to the slaves' quarters.

"Towel," he barked to one of the servants, and the guy hurried to help him. 

"Great performance, Antoine," one of the other slaves spoke to him, and he just nodded.

"Lord Lucas was here," another spoke. "He started asking questions. You know ... about that day."

Antoine shrugged, although he could feel unease starting to gnaw at him.

"And?"

"And nothing. We said nothing," the slave said defensively. "But he says that we will be punished. You said no one will."

"Lord Lucas is just pissed about not having any power over us," Antoine straightened his back, while a servant was gently swiping the sweat off his back. "He's an outsider, so the Trainers don't give a shit about him. He won't do anything."

"But ..." the other slave tried to speak.

"Zip it now, I'm tired," Antoine headed for the showers. He was in no mood to hear them complaining about that episode.

Not that he wasn't thinking about it. There were very few things he wanted in his life without getting them. Cory slipping through his fingers had made him mad behind all reason. He could not really explain the attraction. But he could still remember eyes blue like cornflowers staring at him with hate and disgust. That still haunted him at night. 

It was of no consequence. It had been an order from above. The kind no one dared questioning. He had a distinct sensation it was related to Cory and Lucas's connection being seen as undesirable by the higher powers. He could not agree more. No one really belonged just to one person. It was an unspoken rule Lucas and Cory broke. They were paying for it.

Later that day, he was summoned for a regular medical checkup. His Master seemed a bit displeased with being deprived of his favorite slave, especially after such a great victory. Arnaud loved being dominated in bed, but that was something he was not supposed to share. Although it had always boosted his pride to let others know a few details every now and then, about how he had his Master wrapped around his fingers.

The grey form moved around him, touching him everywhere. For some reason, medical checkups were very unpleasant for Antoine. Probably because the Trainers' hands were always cold. The physical examination was giving him the shivers. A small needle prickled his arm.

"Have you talked to Lord Lucas lately?" he heard the Head Trainer speaking.

He had no idea when the leader of the Trainers had entered the room. 

"Today. He threatened me," he said simply. He had been trained to keep no secrets from the Trainers. 

"What did he say?"

"That I was going to pay."

"Did he ask you anything in particular?" the Head Trainer moved around.

"No. He just wanted to show off his anger."

"He will start asking you questions."

"I know my part. I won't say anything," Antoine felt a chill creeping down his spine. 

"We know," the Head Trainer spoke.

Antoine tried to move, feeling uneasiness washing over him. He could not move his arms and legs.

"What is going on?" he started breathing hard. 

"We know you will not talk, because we will make sure of it," the Head Trainer's voice was growing colder. 

His jaw was growing slack and he felt his examiner pushing something metallic through his lips. At his point, all he could do was blink. Some unarticulated sounds came out, but he could no longer speak. 

A sudden sharp pain made his mind go blank. He wasn't sure whether he was screaming or he was just imagining it. His mouth filled with blood, and he tried to fight the urge to just swallow and swallow, so he could breathe.

He lay there, completely rigid, conscious of the life draining away from his body, as he was suffocating in his own blood. Anger was nothing; it served nothing, and regret and blue eyes staring at him were the last memory fading from his mind. His eyes remained open, void of all emotions. A cold hand closed his eyelids.

"And the others?" the Head Trainer questioned.

"A public execution would be distasteful. But we need to make our position known. Punishment is love," the grey hood bent slightly.

"Punishment is love," the Head Trainer replied, and left the room. His brothers were going to take care of everything. Lucas was going to receive the satisfaction of knowing his servant's assailants punished, but without knowing anything that might hurt him. It was probably needed for him in order to get rid of that defective toy he still cared for in his household.

~A Good Servant~

Lord Arnaud's plea was tearful. Lucas would have been a liar saying that he didn't feel moved at all. 

"I want everyone involved in this dead," Arnaud spoke with tears in his eyes, while the Trainers were seated in their chairs. "Why did they do it? Why?"

"Apparently, they were afraid Antoine would tell on them, although we solved the issue with Lord Lucas's servant in a peaceful manner," the Head Trainer spoke. "Your loss is regrettable, Lord Arnaud."

"And why is he here?" Arnaud pointed an accusatory finger towards Lucas. "So he could rejoice over my beloved slave's death?"

"I assure you, Arnaud," Lucas spoke softly, "that I feel no such thing. I wanted him punished, not maimed and killed."

"You said you wanted him dead!" Arnaud turned towards Lucas, with madness and hurt in his eyes. 

"I was mad with grief, like you are now," Lucas shook his head gently. 

"You must take into consideration, Lord Arnaud," the Head Trainer spoke again, "that all the Masters whose slaves were involved in this incident will feel the same pain as you. Your request will be granted. We have no interest in allowing this regrettable event to cause any more distress. The ones involved in this incident will be punished by death. Lord Lucas, it is regrettable that we could not question the slave properly about the provenience of the branding cane. The rest seem to know nothing. By dawn, they will all be removed completely from Drena's life, and we will all be able to return to our lives. Lord Arnaud, a new generation of slaves is expected to graduate from the Pleasure Academy. You will be allowed to pick first."

"No one will ever replace Antoine!" Arnaud buried his head in his hands and stormed out of the room.

Lucas had never liked Arnaud, but he could understand his pain. He wanted to add something, though.

"Can I see the slaves who killed Antoine? Maybe they are not telling something."

"This is unnecessary, Lord Lucas. We will take care of everything. And, although this is not the manner we like to use for solving things here, in Drena, we believe that removing them completely, we will solve the situation for good. To some degree, we think that you should be pleased with this, as well."

Lucas seemed to ponder for a second. Dark eyes stared at him, waiting. He bowed politely.

"Thank you, Fathers," he said and the Head Trainer nodded.

Lord Lucas was at peace again, the Head Trainer thought. The danger was averted.

~A Good Servant~

"How are you feeling today?" Lucas embraced Cory from behind, kissing one of his ears gently.

"Much better," the blond leaned on the hard body pressing against him. "What happened?"

"Something rather strange ..." Lucas mused and took Cory with him, to place him in his lap. "Antoine was killed."

There was a small gasp from Cory. If the servant thought anything about it, Lucas was not going to press it.

"By whom?"

"By the other slaves involved in ..." Lucas's words trailed off.

Cory touched his lover's lips. "I don't want to see you hurt anymore," he spoke softly.

Lucas's green eyes were shining. "I want to protect you," he squeezed Cory a bit harder in his arms. 

"I know. But it was my fault, too, for being too trustful. Drena is beautiful, but its roots are dark," he spoke thoughtfully. 

"What do you mean, Cory?" Lucas questioned, caressing the servant's back.

"Outside of Drena, everyone disappears once they hit a certain age. They are still whole, men in their prime, but it is like they are not needed anymore. Have you ever seen anyone growing old, like in the books, Lucas?"

"In Aeria, yes," Lucas nodded. "Here ... no. I haven't seen anyone in Drena over 40 years of age, except for a few merchants. Beside the Trainers. But they are eternal."

"Why did they kill Antoine now?" Cory asked, letting his head rest on Lucas's shoulder.

"So you find it strange, too?"

"Yes. No one would dare lay a finger on him in all Drena. Why now?"

"I have no answers, unfortunately. But I am hoping to get some. The Trainers are silent about everything. But ... I need you protected. I need you to be out of here."

Cory straightened up. "And where should I go? The Trainers won't allow me to leave Drena. The only other place to go is outside the city gates."

"I have a plan. I plan on sending you to Aeria."

"Your home town? Would they let us go there together?" Cory got excited and smiled at Lucas, making green eyes lit up again with happiness. 

"I ..." Lucas drew a deep breath. It was a leap of faith, a gamble he was taking, but Arnaud's desperation had kindled his, as well. Nothing could guarantee Cory would not suffer the same fate as Antoine, at some point. Apparently, the Trainers did not take well to undesirable incidents or people. "I don't trust them anymore. Not as I used to."

"Them?"

"The Trainers. They may be our Fathers, and they may want the best for the world, but there is so much they keep from us. I need you to be strong for what will follow."

Cory rose and sat in front of Lucas. "I am ready. And ... I need to tell you something, too."

Lucas gestured for him to continue.

"The Trainers ... they punished us all the time. I didn't want to be taken from where I lived and be made into a servant. At a move of their fingers, people's lives take a turn or another. I ... I am sorry to say this, but I have always felt like I hated them."

Cory waited for Lucas's reaction, his heart small in his chest. That was something they had never talked about. 

"They are our Fathers," Lucas murmured. 

"Punishment is love, that's their motto," Cory spoke passionately. "But what is what I feel when I am in your arms, Lucas? If they are right, this is not love. It's a word I have never heard about."

"Your truth is above else," Lucas spoke with tenderness. "It is because of you I am questioning myself and my faith in them now. That is why I don't want to leave things to chance. There is a world of unknown out there, and I don't know whether it is good or bad, but what I know is that here, in Drena, right under our Fathers' close supervision, the person I hold dearest was hurt. And they did nothing about it, letting fate decide for those who attacked you to play its part. This is against everything I was taught."

"The rest ..." Cory's question floated in the air.

"They were put to death. If there was something they could tell, it's gone forever. But I want answers, and I want to live with you, without fear. For this, I need you to be strong. I cannot keep you safe here. The Trainers may think that they are doing the right thing, but I no longer understand their ways anymore. I must show you something," he rose from his chair and Cory followed.

Apprehension was buried deep in his gut, as his hands searched for the small papers in his drawer, kept under lock and key.

"This is ... the symbol," Cory's hand traveled on its own accord to the right shoulder.

"Yes. The Trainers said it was something shameful. They said it was considered the mark of a whore. But it is not what it means," he shook his head energetically.

Cory's eyes lit with curiosity. "What does it mean?"

"This is what my friend from Aeria, the one I will be sending you to, tells me."

Cory bent slightly to read the words. "I don't understand," he murmured. "What does the mark of a whore has to do with ... this?"

"Exactly," Lucas took the other paper and placed it above. "This is a small map of the mines outside of Drena. If you watch carefully, there is an exit ... here," Lucas pointed out.

"And this?" Cory pointed at a small red square.

"I don't know. Edgar does not know it, either. But do you know what we are looking at?" Lucas caressed Cory's hand affectionately. "This is your way to freedom. I will tell the Trainers I want to send you away."

Cory's eyes became sad. "And leave you here?"

"For now," Lucas answered. "I am going to miss you, but I will make sure you are fine, and things will not be like this forever. Are you willing to give it a try? I know it's dangerous, but keeping you here seems dangerous anyway."

"I am more than willing," Cory squeezed Lucas's hand in answer. "I want to go to Aeria. But I want you to come with me."

Lucas shook his head. "They won't let me leave. I must wait. In the meantime, I will know you are well, through Edgar. He will take care of you, for me. I trust him with my life. He can be a bit strange at times. His head is up in the clouds most of the time, but, when it matters, I know I can count on him. As we speak about, he continues his research. I have a strange feeling, like never in my life, that we are about to find out something ... something that is bigger than us. Even bigger than Drena. I cannot say what this feeling is. I do not usually believe in fairytale. But this time," Lucas's eyes shone as he looked at Cory, "this time, I want to believe that there is a time and space when and where I can be with you. With you, as an equal, not like master and servant."

Lucas caressed Cory's cheek briefly, afraid that he would touch too much. 

"Lucas," Cory breathed out and moved to embrace his lover. "Do you want to ...?"

His question remained suspended in the air. Lucas pushed him away gently and their eyes met.

"No, not yet."

"I am fully recovered," Cory protested, barely refraining the chill coursing down his spine, as memories of strangers' hands keeping him down came to mind.

"I'm not," Lucas's low whisper was the answer. "I hold myself responsible for what happened. We will be together again, some day. That day will be everything I will think of; I will do everything in my power to reach that day, to be with you. Until then, this is the only thing I allow myself," he added and gently kissed Cory's lips, embracing him tightly. "My desires are no longer important. Your life is."

~A Good Servant~

"We are more than happy with your decision, Lord Lucas," the Head Trainer bowed politely. "Please allow an old man a curiosity. Why now?"

"I thought I could bear the sight of him around. But he is, as you say, defective and beyond repair. I guess I was just deluding myself into thinking that I could make him whole."

"His appearance was not affected to such a high degree, although the mark ..." the Head Trainer spoke.

Lucas interrupted him. "I am not talking about his appearance. I found myself simply incapable of touching something that was touched by others in such a foul manner. I suppose I overestimated my ability to cope with such a ... personal challenge."

"Don't beat yourself over it. You are educated to deserve only what is best. It is ingrained in your intellect and it is your conditioning responding as it is supposed to do. You will be offered many other servants and slaves to choose from."

"With all due respect, Head Trainer," Lucas cast his eyes down, "I would rather focus on my work for a while. Such distractions are seemingly taking a toll on my ability to deliver the best results, as one of the Rulers in Drena."

The Head Trainer seemed to ponder for a while. "As you wish, Lord Lucas. You please us. You have always pleased us. We will let time take care of washing the marks left by the recent incidents. Drena is at peace, again."

"Will he be sent to the mines?" he tried to sound as casual as possible. His psychological training was of good use during such moments.

"Yes, it is for the best. He will continue to serve, even if in another form."

"Thank you, Father," Lucas bowed and left the room, letting the Head Trainer behind, failing to see dark pools watching his retreating back, with a faint sign of unease in them. 

~A Good Servant~

"Lord Lucas, you seem to be in need of my services quite often lately," Vacchiari smiled, fighting his urge to rub his fat hands, adorned with jewelry on every finger, in satisfaction.

"I have a rather difficult request this time. Do you think you are up to it?" Lucas sat at the wooden table, and linked his fingers together. 




A Good Servant Ch. 13



"I won't be able to answer your question, milord, until you tell me what is that you want of me. As you well now, I am your humble servant."

Instead of answering, Lucas took a small leather bag from his pocket and placed on the table. He encouraged Vacchiari with his eyes. The merchant hesitated just the right amount of time to avoid showing off as greedy. The beautiful stone made his eyes bulge out of their sockets. 

"Is this? ... This is ... priceless!" he barely muttered. 

"Everything has a price," Lucas said simply. "My task for you is not an easy one."

"Just say what it is," Vacchiari said abruptly. This was no longer about getting richer than any other merchant on the continent. It was about getting the reputation he deserved.

"I need you to do ... a bit of smuggling," Lucas eventually said, his eyes glued to the merchant.

Vacchiari snorted. "Smuggling? I can smuggle anything in and out of Drena," he said with pride.

"We are talking about a bigger cargo, this time," Lucas measured his words. If the merchant was going to step back, he was going to need more time, time he didn't have.

"How big?" Vacchiari bent over the table, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"As big as a person in flesh and blood."

Vacchiari opened and closed his mouth a few times. "That's dangerous," he eventually spoke.

"I know," Lucas caressed the stone on the table, making a small move as if he was going to push it back into its leather bag.

Vacchiari's greasy pawn closed over Lucas's, as if he was trying to stop the Ruler from taking back what was rightfully his.

"Where am I supposed to deliver this ... delicate cargo?" he asked, and his eyes looked as big as saucers as he was trying to maintain eye contact with Lucas.

"Aeria."

"It's done," Vacchiari nodded energetically, and Lucas's hand withdrew, letting the merchant's pawn snatch the precious stone from the table. 

"I will give you all the instructions. No one is to know," Lucas added.

"No need to tell me that. As always, a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Lucas," the merchant laid back and started listening carefully to Lucas's instructions on the task.

~A Good Servant~

On his way out of Drena, heading for the mines, Cory was conscious of only one thing: the sigil and the small map hidden in his boot, designed to show him a new way. A way to freedom. 

*****

Author's Note: Well, guys, I hope you all liked the new chapter. I got a lot of interesting comments for the previous one, so I have to say a few words to all the fine reviewers caring about leaving their thoughts on Ch. 12.

First of all, cannd, as always, you manage to get my writing juices flowing with your insight. I hope I managed to catch the way the relationship between Cory and Lucas changes due to the recent events. This was the biggest challenge for me, and I am counting on you to tell me where I did right and where I did wrong. Of course, I am counting on everyone else, too!

Nanobot, I do know what you mean, and I want to thank you for your praise. As about the little misunderstanding pointed out by another reader, I hope the way things evolve will show you well enough that I want nothing but the best for our boys, but sometimes hardship is required to build character. At least, in stories; by no means, I would want anything bad happening to good people in real life, as nanobot said. This is just a figment of imagination and I deeply apologized if I made someone feel bad with how things evolved during the previous chapter. Maybe I should have been clearer with the warnings? I am waiting for all your opinions, I would not want to 'cheat' anyone into reading something they are uncomfortable with.

DreamToCome, I have no idea how you will react to what happens to Antoine in this chapter. I know all of you guys wanted Lucas to be behind the revenge, but as much as I tried and thought about possibilities, I could not see him do it. Not even mad with grief and anger; I think he is a stronger man than this. I totally understand what it means to get attached to your characters!! I thought I was going to cry while writing Ch.12, but I was afraid I would scare my husband! I really need to be careful about going further than I can.

ChrisJarone, your input is always welcome! It was very hard for me to write that particular scene, so when I will edit the story, I will try to let emotions aside a bit more, and focus on making it more realistic. All your points about technology are noted; I will offer more explanations as the story continues, but I guess you all suspect the veil placed over the world by the Trainers, a veil that does not allow too much questioning or curiosities. Faith can be broken, if challenged enough. As for English not being your Native language, no worries. I am not from an English speaking country, either; actually, our mother tongues are sisters, and I think I could understand half of anything you would write in Italian, without even looking up the dictionary :) I know there was not much of your love, Xav, in this chapter, but I managed a bit of something, to keep Xav and Ayn's fans satisfied. (Do you think Ayn would get pissed at us for calling his lover Xav? He, he, just kidding)

All you guys leaving comments are truly great. I am trying to write longer chapters, but my time is really limited, and this is the best I can do. Someone mentioned Andreas ... do you guys think he should be more than just a (very) minor character? What do you like about him? And John and Dion will be more in the story, and I will try to give them their well deserved space.

I am personally excited about imagining Aeria right now. I think I'll have to look at some screenshots from Arcanum to get my juices flowing ;)



A Good Servant Ch. 14



The last thing he wanted was to draw the others' attention. He was glad he had been given a larger helmet, so his forehead and half his eyes were shadowed from view. He pulled the collar of the coarse miner's uniform he was wearing a bit higher, to hide his face. His worries, however, had proved in vain so far. The hard work in the mines was leaving little time to workers to chat up others, or even look around.

He knew from Lucas that someone was going to wait outside for him every Tuesday. He had used the time so far to explore the galleries, each time going a bit further. Trying to read the small map at the small flicker generated by the flashlight on his helmet had proved tedious. And it was a different thing to make up a sense of how long the galleries were supposed to be, and where the map was actually starting. 

There were no free days for miners, unlike there were for others. A small detail Cory noticed was that everyone seemed a bit older than the rest of the men toiling over their machineries in the factories located outside of Drena. They seemed to be made of harder stuff, too, and they had to be to make sure that they could survive working inside the mines. The night shift was supposed to be the worst, but Cory found quickly that night and day didn't have any meaning down there, in the pits. Keeping track of time was getting more and more difficult.

"Hey, you," he heard someone calling behind him. "It's dangerous to go that way. Come back."

He turned and moved back. No point in pursuing his explorations for now. The man who called for him turned and left, before he could reach him. He turned again to look at the gallery left behind and then he noticed. There was a small fading light at the end of the corridor. He hesitated for a moment. At any point, he could get lost if he was to continuously roam the convoluted labyrinth. But curiosity got the better of him. Taking a last look to see if anyone else was still around, he sped his pace while heading for the small light.

It was strange. It didn't look like there was a clear source of the light, and now it was fading more and more. He hurried, trying to catch it, feeling somewhere deep inside his gut that it was important to track the light now weeping on the walls, leaving nothing but the deepest darkness behind. 

He took one corner, then another. An eerie silence was falling, surrounding him with its embrace. It felt colder, too. And, suddenly, it was all darkness. It felt as temperature was going down fast and he felt panic assaulting him in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to run, but his feet were like lead; his breathing became ragged, his lungs striving for air. He could feel small crystals of ice forming on his eyelids. Soon, it became harder even to blink. 

He fell to his knees, his hands searching for something, anything he could hold on to. Was he going to die there? He thought of Lucas, of his warm embrace, and collapsed. 

~A Good Servant~

He groaned, moving in his sleep. His eyes opened slowly, with difficulty, and he had to close them back fast. There was too much light. As he was waking up, he realized one thing. He was no longer cold. He opened his eyes again, blinking often, to adjust. The source of the light was right in front of his eyes; there, inside the wall, there was a square room encased in the solid ground. He rose to his feet and came closer. The room itself was not the source of the incandescent light; inside the room, floating in the air, there was someone.

Frightened, Cory took a step back. His eyes were now starting to adapt, and the light no longer seemed so bothersome. 

He looked again. There was no doubt; the one dwelling inside the strange casing was a woman. He had seen too few of them to know exactly how they looked like, but he could tell. 

Stunned, he took in the image in front of him. The woman seemed soundly asleep, her eyes closed, with a serene expression on her face. She had long, golden hair, running to her bare feet, and she was very beautiful. The white garment she was wearing looked ethereal, as if it was made of waves and thin air. One of her hands was closed over her womb, as she was trying to protect it. The other was placed over her chest. Between her thin fingers, she held a delicate lily flower. 

Cory felt a sudden sting. He grabbed his right shoulder, squeezing it, trying to ignore the pain. His brand was hurting like it was just now that the iron connected with his flesh. Soon enough, the pain subsided. The light grew dim, again. Cory hurried to touch the glass, but the casing was turning into the same gallery wall surrounding him from all sides. A final glimpse of the woman inside the strange room and it was over. Cory could swear he could see the hint of a small smile on the woman's lips. 

He searched with his hands for a crack in the earthy wall, but to no avail. The woman had disappeared.

He turned to face the corridor stretching in front of him. Suddenly, he knew where he was going. Steadily, he started walking. A strange, warm sensation was filling his chest. Everything was going to be alright.

~A Good Servant~

It was breaking dawn when he reached the surface. He breathed in the clean crisp air and almost felt like laughing. The white walls of Drena were standing tall in the distance. For a short moment, he imagined Lucas still there, and it felt unjust to be happy leaving his lover behind. Yet it felt so strange, so new and so amazing to realize that for his 22 years of life, he had never set foot outside of Drena, the Institution or the area that served only to supply the city with goods and labor force. It was like walking out of prison. 

He watched around for any sign of a human being. It looked like he was alone. The sun was barely climbing over the horizon line. In front of him, the desert stretched, unyielding. By contrast, Drena was a geometrical wonder. 

After what felt like hours, he finally saw the small black truck moving slowly in his direction. If that was not the person sent by Lucas, it could be the end for him. He steeled himself, waiting.

Finally, the truck stopped and a man who looked to be at least twice Cory's age, came out. He moved with difficulty, most probably because of his generous belly, but he went straight towards Cory. The servant watched him, then he carefully took the L shaped sigil out of his boot. Without a word, he showed it to the man. 

"Come," the man gestured for him to follow.

The man fiddled with the doors at the back. He pointed out a long, dark box.

"In there," he spoke, and Cory hesitated for a fraction of a second.

The man seemed to register his unease. "You don't expect me to parade you riding shotgun with me, do you?"

The servant no longer needed another encouragement. The man helped him get inside the box, and then unceremoniously started to drop what looked like piles of old books over him.

"Hey," he said annoyed. "Are you trying to suffocate me?"

"No, just saving your sorry ass," the man grunted as he threw another pile of books over him. "You have a hole to breathe, in that corner," he pointed out. "Special book delivery is nothing conspicuous compared to taking a miner out of Drena, don't you think?"

Cory remained silent. So the man thought he was a miner. As if he was reading thoughts, the man spoke again.

"Except that you're not a miner, are you? The most beautiful slaves of Drena don't seem to come close to you in importance," he talked as if he was trying to make sense of things for him, more than for Cory. "Somehow you're special," he stopped to look at Cory's face, covered for the most part in soot and dirt. 

The servant felt his heart growing small. Was the man going to turn him in? If he was a wise man, that was most recommended. But the man shrugged and continued with his endeavor of covering Cory in books.

"Not my business. My business is to take you to Aeria and deliver you to your destination. This is what I got paid for. And Vacchiari is a man you can trust."

Vacchiari, Cory registered. Maybe it was a good idea to remember that name. 

He turned his head to one side and shielded his face, so his nose could be close to the hole in the box. When the man called Vacchiari closed the lid, he knew he was going to leave for real this time.

~A Good Servant~

"What do you have here, pops?" he heard some young men's voices outside.

"Nothing, nothing, it's nothing but books in the back," he heard Vacchiari complaining.

"So, business got slow," Cory heard a thumping sound, sign that someone was climbing in the back. 

"You took everything from me last time, you dirty weasels," Vacchiari spoke. 

"Watch that mouth. You don't want me to take that gold tooth from you."

"What gold tooth?"

"Don't play games with me, old man."

Vacchiari seemed to have realized it was better to shut his mouth. The lid was open and then closed again. Cory didn't even have time to panic. 

"Alright, it seems like you really have nothing. Just say thanks we won't take you for ransom."

"Who would pay for me?" Vacchiari's voice whined.

"Exactly. Although ..." the man seemed to ponder.

Cory strained to hear. The doors were closed again and the man seemed to have stopped just outside to talk some more to Vacchiari.

"Ayn still holds a grudge. He would love to beat the shit out of you."

"Who's Ayn?" Vacchiari questioned, visibly annoyed with the prospect of having an enemy he knew nothing about.

Ayn, Cory thought. Maybe that was just a coincidence and nothing more. 

"Just someone you took like an animal and sold in the white city," the man continued.

Cory could barely refrain the wish to jump out of his box and go to that man and ask him about Ayn. There could only be one Ayn.

"Don't remember," Vacchiari faked a sudden memory loss.

"Don't worry, he does," the man laughed.

Cory's mind was in turmoil. He had to respect Lucas's wish, though. And who was to say if this man who claimed to know Ayn was friend or foe? The fact that Vacchiari had been the one to sell Ayn to Xavier was not very settling, either. The man was nothing but a merchant, so his loyalties were dictated by nothing else but cold hard cash.

They moved again, and Cory thought if he had just missed his chance to meet Ayn again.

~A Good Servant~

The box was lifted by strong hands and carried outside the truck. Cory hoped he was now at his destination. His limbs had gone all numb and he could really use a bathroom. It was strange how he could think of such mundane things while he was basically on the run for his life. He had no doubts the Trainers could not be pleased with his escape. 

Eventually, all movement stopped and he heard someone moving around, lifting the lid. Books were taken from the pile on top of his body.

"How to Behave in Polite Society, The 10 Most Common Rules of Baccarat, ..." he heard someone reading random titles.

Was the guy for real? He was going to register each and every book, totally ignoring what lay below the pile? Or better said, who? Was he even where he was supposed to be? Without thinking further, he moved energetically, making books and broken pages fly around. He breathed deeply and looked at a man who seemed to be in his early 30s.

His so called host was looking at him amused through what looked like circles made of glass. Cory watched his face carefully. The strange contraption held on his nose was making him look older, but he could not be more than 27 or 28 years of age. He was very thin, wearing a tweed suit that had definitely seen better days, and his lips were twisting in amusement.

"Who are you?" Cory eventually managed.

"This is a question I should ask you, young man," the host spoke pompously.

For some reason, Cory felt like laughing. Normally, he should have been mad or scared seeing that the man showed no signs of knowing who he was.

"I'm just joking," the man waved and hurried to help Cory out of the box. "I'm Edgar, Lucas's friend. Welcome to Aeria, Cory."

~A Good Servant~

After a shower, a good meal and dressed in clean clothes, Cory felt as good as new. It felt so strange to be far away from home, and yet feel so comfortable. In Edgar's home, there seemed to be nothing but books everywhere, but basic functionalities like chairs and tables were still provided.

He went to the window and looked outside. He withdrew right away.

"What's wrong?" Edgar stopped from his reading.

"I'm not supposed to be seen, right?"

"Relax," Edgar waved. "We're all a bunch of mad scientists around. No one will notice you."

"Really? No one?" Cory asked, visibly surprised.

"Well, you are really aesthetically pleasing, and that may have some of my lady friends talking. I will tell them you are someone I know from Bluesilver."

"What's Bluesilver?" Cory asked.

"A city state up north. Don't worry. After the novelty will wear off, no one is going to pay you any attention. I hope you don't feel affronted, do you?" Edgar asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Cory shrugged. "I am totally fine with that. But wouldn't it be strange for me to appear like this, out of nowhere?"

"I won't parade you everywhere. But I won't hide you, either. That would be too conspicuous. Hiding things in plain view is the best strategy."

"How come?" Cory sat on a chair and pressed his palms against his knees. 

"I used to play all kinds of games with Lucas. It is just a rule we came up with for hide and seek."

"Lucas played hide and seek?" Cory wished he could know Lucas from that age, when such games were normal. Even at the Institution, they were still allowed to play. Hide and seek had been his favorite.

"A special kind of hide and seek. It was more like treasure hunting, I think," Edgar pondered. "Alright, maybe a bit of disguising wouldn't hurt ... Let's see. Maybe make you wear a hat. Or glasses. Or both."

"What are glasses?" Cory asked, feeling that his question might seem a bit dumb.

Edgar didn't seem surprised with Cory's question. He took the contraption off his nose and showed it to Cory. "These are."

Cory took them and studied them. He tried to put them on, as he had seen Edgar doing, and he scrunched his nose. 

"My eyes," he complained as he took the glasses off. "Why do you force yourself to hurt your eyes?" he questioned.

Edgar laughed this time. "They help me see better. I heard from Lucas that everyone in Drena is perfect. So I assume no one needs glasses there. In my case, I would not be able to go from my bedroom to the bathroom without them. I'm as blind as a bat," he joked, scratching one of his ears.

"Unfortunately, I won't be able to wear them. I think I will end up smashing my head around."

"I won't give you mine. I'll give you some fake ones. They will be nothing but ordinary glass. They won't hurt your eyes."

"Edgar, you know so many things," Cory expressed his admiration.

Edgar coughed, a bit embarrassed. "That's nothing. You just didn't have the chance to see anyone with glasses in Drena. The Trainers are promising us all the other cities will be that way one day. Perfect."

Cory shook, feeling a chill traveling down his spine. "I doubt Drena is perfect," he murmured, and unconsciously grabbed his right shoulder. 

Edgar smiled at him. "I doubt it, too. Plus, where would people like me and my friends be in that perfect world?"

There was a small exchange between them; they could understand each other. Cory felt his chest growing warmer.

"It's ok if I look out the window?"

"Go ahead. Ah, just came with an idea. What color do you want your hair dyed? Do you want to change eye color, too? That's a bit more difficult, but still doable. If we make a few changes, you will no longer be able to recognize yourself in the mirror."

"I'm counting on that," Cory spoke with a smile, and he went to the window.

The cobblestone street looked pretty animated at that hour. Men in high hats, walking in groups of two or three, were conversing vividly. Sometimes, women dressed in what looked like terribly convoluted outfits, with all kinds of ruffles and frills, were joining them. Cory could hear them laughing. 

"The people here seem happy."

"Aren't people in Drena happy, as well? I heard from Lucas that it's a permanent party down there. Everyone is beautiful and there is nothing people could wish for."

"By people do you mean the Masters?" Cory asked, a genuine expression on his face.

Edgar coughed, a bit embarrassed. "I suppose ... I didn't mean it to sound like ..."

Cory came to his aid. "That's no problem. I think this is how everyone looks at things anyway."

"Not everyone," Edgar seemed to ponder, while pushing his glasses back, a small habit Cory was starting to notice when the man was thinking whether he should speak or not. "Lucas sent you here. He didn't tell me much ... but I gathered that you were ... his lover?"

Edgar's cheeks seemed a little pink. Cory thought the small change in his demeanor was making him look younger.

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I hope so, I mean. What I want to say is ..." he stopped for a brief second to find the right words, "it was more than sex. It still is."

Edgar shook his head a little, like some nasty insects were bugging him. Cory read the situation right away.

"Are you ... embarrassed with this subject, Edgar?"

"What subject?" the man murmured, this time taking his glasses off to fiddle with them.

"You know ... sex."

"Coitus," Edgar spoke. "This is how it is called here. It is a scientific term," he explained as Cory quirked an eyebrow questioningly. 

"That sounds terrible," the former servant spoke. "This is how people here refer to when ... you know ..."

Somehow, Edgar's embarrassment was transferring with him. He wished they weren't having that conversation.

"Oh, no, we do not indulge in such acts here. It is strictly forbidden. And unnecessary," Edgar almost shouted while raising his hands in defense. 

Cory's eyes grew wide. "But Lucas ..."

"He left for Drena when he was really young. We used to question ourselves about it ... he told me on more than one occasion that he found the approach in Drena on the matter more natural, but in the same time more bothersome for some reason he didn't care to elaborate. I didn't press the matter, either," Edgar put his glasses back on.

"And ... what do people do ..."

"We have a special machine built to sublimate our inappropriate thoughts into more brain power," Edgar answered promptly. "Too bad the machine seems to fry our brains, but that is not something you heard from me," he continued.

Cory didn't hide his shock. "You get killed for feeling sexual desire towards someone?"

"Yeah ... or in general. But it's not a problem. Frankly, after the age of 35, one can barely come up with something new in mathematics or physics, so their utility ends anyway. I suppose it's not a bad way to go, wrapped in a stimulus of ideas swarming in your brain."

Something in Edgar's voice sounded off; Cory was no fool to believe the lie the man was basically telling himself. 

Cory looked towards the window, thinking of the men and women conversing in the street. 

"Men and women, too?"

"Yes, every one. We have a very clear role that we need to comply with. Of course, if you manage to keep yourself away of any desire, you get to live longer."

"Have you been using this sublimation machine a lot of times?" Cory inquired.

"A few times," Edgar averted his eyes. 

A strange sensation was creeping in, Cory could tell. "Is my presence here a problem?" he blurted out. Back in Drena, there had been quite a few men to express their sexual interest in him. 

Edgar looked at him surprised. "Oh, no, Cory, no, please, do not misunderstand! Besides being Lucas's lover, I am also not at all attracted by men. But," he sighed, "there is a lady ... She's called Lena. Her equations are so ... perfect," he whispered. "I have to steer clear of her. Each time we met, we have such a wonderful time, completing each other's research ... but, each time after that, I have to go use the machine, and it's embarrassing and ..."




A Good Servant Ch. 14



Edgar shook his head gently. "She doesn't understand why I do not seek her companionship. I would not dream of telling her that."

Cory mumbled. "So sorry to hear that. But, if you are all here scientists, why don't you perfect the machine? Or find another way?"

"The machine was sent here by the Trainers. We are not allowed to fiddle with it. And there are certain things even a mad scientist doesn't touch."

The threat was there, floating in the air, left unspoken. Aeria was no shelter, Cory thought. 

"But enough about such depressing things," Edgar linked his fingers and looked at Cory. "Do you know how to read and write?"

"Yes," Cory answered, without feeling insulted in any way.

"Good. We have a lot of research to do, besides my usual work. Actually, I cannot slack or everyone will notice. I am afraid a lot will fall on your shoulders," Edgar smiled and lifted a heavy tome from the table, handing it to Cory.

"What are we looking for?" the former servant asked, without hiding his excitement.

"Our beginnings," Edgar said plainly and Cory nodded.

To learn where they had to go, they had to learn where they came from. He thought about telling Edgar about the woman he saw in the depths of Drena's mines, but the man seemed so engrossed in his work that he decided to postpone that conversation for a later date.

~A Good Servant~

Xavier moved from one side to another, almost clashing into Ayn's hard chest. He wished he could pretend he was still asleep, but Ayn's right hand immediately started to travel on his flank, going down and moving on the back to grab his ass. He groaned.

"Really? There is nothing else on your mind?" he said through his teeth.

"And why wouldn't it be?" Ayn's black eyes snapped open, to stare at him. "Should I remind you this was the only thing you wanted to do with me when we were in your shitty city?"

"Shitty city? Oh, you must be living in paradise then!" Xavier had the nerve to look affronted. 

"Sorry, Mr. pompous ass, not everyone is born with a silver spoon in his mouth like you," Ayn retorted, and squeezed the man's ass tighter. 

"I was not!" Xavier protested. "I'll have you know that I worked my ass off to become who I was in Drena. And you basically took everything ..."

Ayn stopped Xavier's torrent of words with a kiss. Grey eyes stared at him in anger, making him laugh. 

"C'mon, Xav, you hated it there. You almost always had a sour expression on your face, like you had only lemons for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

"I was definitely not!" Xavier wanted to protest, everything just to contradict the uncouth man he was currently sharing a bed with. 

"Oh, yeah?" Ayn left Xavier's ass alone to stretch and yawn. "I felt you could be good as a bottom. Yet, you could not let yourself go. If you were so free there, how come you didn't wiggle your tail more to show me how much you wanted me to mount you?"

Annoyed with Ayn's bawdy words, Xavier bolted from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Ayn looked after him, visibly curious.

"I'm taking a shower," Xavier threw over his shoulder.

"Again? Too bad. I wanted to take you outside," the brunet spoke casually.

Xavier made a one eighty in a split of a second. "Really? Aren't you afraid I'm going to run?" he cocked his head to one side and stared at Ayn in disbelief.

The other man shrugged. "Frankly, I think you are well adjusted. And where would you run?"

"My clothes are dirty," Xavier crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do I fucking look like a laundry machine? And those rags?" Ayn snorted. "I burnt them."

"You what?" Xavier's eyes grew wide. "I hope you don't intend to parade me naked all over the place. I will not have it!"

"Chillax, dude," Ayn laughed. "I got you some normal clothes. Here, only those who bury the dead wear black. I am not keeping you around looking like the harbinger of death. Now, don't you want to get into your new clothes?"

Ayn didn't wait for an answer and moved to rummage through the only closet present in the room. He eventually threw a pair of jeans, a white shirt and a leather jacket, together with a pair of combat boots, on the bed. He gestured to Xavier.

"Come, dress up. Don't make me do it for you. My job is only to undress you," he joked, earning a venomous look from Xavier.

The former Ruler of Drena moved and took the clothes from the bed. It was better than nothing. After wearing nothing but silk all his life, the new clothes felt coarse against his skin. But they were not bad. After inspecting himself as much as he could, he raised his eyes to see Ayn watching him with renewed interest.

"Well?" he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans.

"Well, I think I'll have to chase a bunch of girls and guys with a stick, because you look absolutely fuckable," Ayn said with admiration.

Xavier could not admit the remark was making him feel good. Instead, he pursed his lips in annoyance. 

"Are we going or not?"

"Not so fast," Ayn closed the distance between them. "First, suck my dick."

Xavier rolled his eyes. Ayn smirked and grabbed Xavier's cock through his jeans. "I'll suck yours, too," he promised and stuck his tongue out, provoking the other. 

That was not something Xavier could simply overlook. He suddenly closed his mouth over Ayn, sucking the brunet's tongue in, showing that he was not afraid to take on the challenge. It was a short battle of wills, with no definite victor. 

He was the one to interrupt the kiss. Ayn's lips glistened, and the thought of having the guy's mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking him dry, determined him to speak.

"Get on your knees then," he looked at the brunet, his eyes at half mast. 

There was a short moment of hesitation in deep black pools, and Xavier steeled himself for a fight. But Ayn slowly descended, his eyes glued to Xavier's grey ones. 

His cock freed from the constraints of his jeans, Xavier threw his head back, breaking eye contact. There was heat and there was moisture, as his organ was engulfed by the other's greedy mouth. Just a small hint of teeth grazing over the sensitive skin made him hiss.

"Watch it," he warned.

A tongue wrapping around his member silenced him. It looked like Ayn had learned a thing or two during the times when Xavier had sucked him dry. He didn't find it suitable to let the brunet know he was coming. Instead, he grabbed at raven strands, and pushed his cock deeper, relishing in hearing the other's labored breath. 

He could feel his toes curling inside his boots, as pleasure washed over him. He didn't have time to enjoy the aftermath for too long, though. He was unceremoniously pushed on the bed; hurriedly, Ayn straddled him and took his own engorged cock out of his pants. 

"Open," Ayn commanded in a strained voice. Xavier could see a few droplets of white substance still hanging on the brunet's lips. The view was more than satisfactory. He didn't have to be told twice. He let the meaty organ pass through his lips. The entrance was a bit forceful, but he could take it. It was a good sensation to feel Ayn's cock hitting the back of his throat. He moved enough to adjust the position, so that the brunet's organ could slide back and forth with ease. Ayn was fucking his mouth, whispering dirty words. 

Their eyes met briefly when Ayn looked down. 

"Fucking wonderful cocksucker," the brunet praised him and let his essence flow inside his lover's mouth.

He tasted Ayn fully. It felt so deeply familiar, that he could not recall anything else. It was like Ayn was pouring himself inside him, permeating his very being, until there was a connection being built between them that neither of them could escape.

Ayn withdrew and plopped himself next to Xavier. They were both breathing heavily. Ayn turned and grabbed his neck, forcing him into a kiss. 

"I love your taste," Ayn murmured. "I love your mouth."

Xavier thought briefly, as their tastes mixed, that if he were to enumerate the things he loved about Ayn, it would take him days and nights to finish. He loved everything about Ayn.

~A Good Servant~

Dion looked up the sky. It was going to rain. He had had to leave earlier from work, due to a temporary outage, but he was glad. He had enough time to cook something for him and John. If they had come back from work together, Dion would have doubted having time to cook anything. John seemed to have only one thing on his mind, and it was always a miracle that they managed to open the door to their small home and get inside. After that, it was all about John getting inside Dion, and nothing else mattered. 

He fiddled for his keys. 

"Hi," he heard a voice, a bit unsteady.

He raised his eyes to see Andreas huddled on the steps, right in front of the entrance. The clothes he wore looked thin, totally unfit for the kind of rain that was going to pour soon over their heads.

The blond looked thin, too. 

"Hi," Dion answered. "Are you looking for John?" he asked hesitantly.

He had no reason to fear Andreas. Something more akin to pity nestled in his chest. 

"No, actually ... I was looking for you," Andreas spoke softly. "I was to ask you something."

"Alright," Dion nodded. "Come inside, I'll make some tea."

Andreas looked around, balancing his weight on one leg, than the other. "I shouldn't. It's just a small question."

Dion waved. "Nonsense. It's going to rain soon. Come inside and you can warm up a bit."

He didn't wait for Andreas's response this time. He opened the door and let the other followed.

He started making tea, while encouraging Andreas to take a seat in the small, clean kitchen.

"How come you made John care so much about you?" Andreas asked, as Dion placed a hot cup of tea in front of him.

Dion shrugged. "I don't know. I really liked him, right from the start. I thought he hated me," he chuckled softly. "I think because of you," he looked at Andreas questioningly.

The blond made himself little in his chair. "Yes, I guess," he sighed. "Have you ever, you know, lost something, and didn't realize you wanted it until it wasn't yours anymore?"

Dion rested his chin in his right palm. "You made the wrong choice, is this what you want to say?"

Andreas nodded slowly. He made a move to rise. 

"Wait, don't go," Dion stopped him. "Say it to me straight. Do you still like John?"

The blond averted his eyes. 

"It's alright to be honest," Dion continued. 

"You won't get mad?" Andreas asked. 

Dion shrugged. "Well, he went to see you plenty of times, while I was waiting for him here."

"And I was used to seeing him all the time. It was like our ... thing was continuing in a fucked up way. But you came, and this changed. And it wasn't until recently that I understood that I really lost him."

Silence followed, as the two ex servants looked at each other, in understanding.

"I really have to go. Thank you for the tea," Andreas rose. "Good luck, Dion. You really have a good man. Take good care of him."

Dion wanted to stop Andreas again, but this time, the blond hurried to the door, ignoring him.

~A Good Servant~

"That smells terrific," John spoke happily, as he entered the kitchen and grabbed Dion's waist, making him turn and kissing him deeply. "I heard your unit was in outage, so I knew you must be home, cooking."

"It's one of my favorite pastimes, you know that," Dion chirped and kissed John shortly. "Take a seat, it's almost ready."

Dion waited until after dinner to tell his lover about the visit from earlier. As John measured him up and down with burning eyes, he knew he had one small window of opportunity, before the man was going to jump him, and there was not going to be any conversation possible.

"Andreas came back today."

John frowned. "What did he want?"

"He just wanted to know how I managed to make you like me," Dion said plainly, gauging John's every reaction.

The man shifted in his place. "You did it by not being a dirty little whore, like him," John muttered.

John's anger was palpable. But there was something else there, and Dion wanted to know all about it. 

"You never told me about what happened between you two," he said gently, while taking a seat across from John.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Come on, John. Don't let this get between us. Did you like him?"

"Not as much as I like you," John answered, looking straight at Dion.

"That's good to know," Dion smiled. "But don't worry. This conversation is not some kind of trap. Even when you went to ... relieve yourself, you still picked him. Why?"

John looked sideways and shook his head in annoyance. "I don't know. He was there. Nothing but convenience."

"Truly?" Dion pressed.

John's jaw tensed. "Yeah! What do you want me to say?"

"I want nothing but the truth, John, that's all. He still likes you."

There was a small sign of surprise in John's black eyes, but it died right away. 

"He's lying."

"I don't think so. I think he has regrets," Dion spoke.

"That's his fucking business. Look, Dion, he's just playing, alright? He just lost a paying customer!"

"Admit it, John. You never let go, either. Not for good. You went to see him," Dion explained.

Apparently, that was not the right thing to say. John rose from his place and started pacing the room.

"Are you fucking jealous, Dion? You're the one here, aren't you? Are you not satisfied? I cannot wipe the past, alright?"

Dion watched him, pondering. "I'm not jealous," he said plainly. 

John snorted. "Then what do you want?"

"I want you to admit you still like Andreas, too."

Dion's hazel eyes were glued to John's every move. 

"I cannot believe this," John stopped and crossed his strong arms over his chest, staring Dion down. "Tell me, Dion, what's the right answer to this? Either way, I'm fucked, right? I say 'yes', and you'll bolt out through that door. I say 'no', and you'll call me a liar."

"You're wrong," Dion said, shaking his head slowly.

"Am I?" John leaned in slightly. "Look, Dion, he's there, you're here. There's no other thing to say."

"I don't want you to have any regrets," Dion continued.

"What regrets?" John threw his arms to the sides in an exasperated gesture. 

"Are you telling me you do not care that he's there, doing what he is doing?"

John huffed. "It's not my fucking fault, is it?"

"I am not asking you this. But you are asking yourself, aren't you?" Dion didn't look intimidated. 

"Yeah, alright, I am! I am wondering why I didn't keep him, ok? Why didn't I insist that he didn't leave? I have no idea! Satisfied now?"

Dion sighed. "As you can see, nothing you say surprises me."

"Oh, so you don't care!" John accused. "Fuck it! There wasn't going to be any sex for me tonight anyway, right?"

Dion's eyes grew wide. "Why on earth ..." he tried to express his indignation over John's accusation, but the large man stormed the room, slamming the door to the bedroom behind him.

The redhead scratched his head. Actually, things weren't so complicated. John might have thought so, but they weren't.

They didn't speak much on their way to work the next day. Since the outage was ongoing, and they were reassigned to other departments, Dion had the chance to leave early again. This time, he knew what he was going to do. 

~A Good Servant~

John entered his home, moving slowly this time. He had made too much of a scene the other day to continue to stay angry at Dion. When he looked up, he froze. 

"Hi, John," Andreas waved at him. 

He looked at the blond, than at Dion, than back at Andreas. 

He closed the door behind him, just to gain more time. Eventually, he had to face his two lovers. 

"Alright, can someone please explain what is going on?" he asked. He looked insistently at Dion. The redhead sustained his eyes, completely imperturbable. 

"What is going on, John," Dion spoke, "is that you need to be shown a few things. I will tell you just this one thing. That what will happen here will not have to change anything between us. That you and you alone can decide what you really want, and whatever you choose, Andreas and I will understand and support your decision. Alright?"

John frowned. Dion was obviously trying to give him a serious headache.

"What?" was the only thing he managed to say.

Dion smiled and took Andreas's hand. He slowly moved and cupped the blond's cheek with his other hand, bringing him closer to kiss him gently on the lips. 

John gasped and blinked. In front of him, the only two guys who had ever managed to rock his world, were kissing slowly. Dion was now slowly removing Andreas's shirt, and the blond was also trying to get the redhead out of his clothes.

Soon enough, they were both naked, and it made John feel the familiar strain inside his pants. Dion and Andreas were caressing each other's naked backs and butts, and watching felt like too much. Or too little.

Dion broke the kiss and challenged John. "Are you going to stay there all day or are you going to join us?"

He almost tore off the buttons of his shirt, as he started to undress. If someone had told him he was going to have his biggest fantasy happening in front of his eyes, he would have sent that someone straight to the mental house. He grabbed the two thin waists forcefully, and made Dion and Andreas almost crash against his hairy chest. 

"Are you trying to make me lose my mind, Dion?" he murmured, as he bit the redhead's lips, drawing blood. "You know there's no coming back from it," he warned, after licking the few droplets of blood from soft lips. 

"I'm betting on it. Kiss Andreas now," Dion encouraged him. "We're dying to suck your cock."

That earned him a murderous look from John, but the man complied, and brought Andreas closer to kiss him roughly. The blond mewled into the kiss, taken by surprise by John's determination. 

"It's not going to be roses and soft kisses this time, Andreas," he warned the blond this time, and Andreas just nodded. "You two, you have no idea what you have gotten yourselves in," he looked into Andreas's blue eyes, then into Dion's warm brown ones.  

Dion giggled. "Scary," he commented breathily and winked at Andreas. 

Both got on their knees and Dion grabbed John's huge cock, giving it a tentative lick. He guided Andreas to take John's cock in his mouth, while he started to lavish the guy's heavy ball sac with kisses. The blond wanted to be generous, too, as he withdrew a little and helped Dion taste the brunet's cock, too. Their soft lips wrapped over the long shaft, pushing it through their kisses, playing with it.

"You two are going to be the death of me," John murmured. "I want an ass to fuck and I want it now."

Dion rose and dragged Andreas with him. 

"Let's go to the bedroom then," he spoke and John hurried after them.

Andreas was placed on his fours by the redhead who quickly proceeded at licking the guy's ass. Small soft grunts escaped the blond's lips, while John was watching them with dark eyes. 

"Are you sure about this, Andreas?" he moved to kneel between the long legs, as Dion wrapped his thin fingers around his shaft to help him maintain his erection.

He didn't really need any help with that, but Dion's intentions were more than laudable. 

"Yes, John, fuck me," Andreas pushed his ass back. 

John looked at Dion. "Are you really ok with this?" he asked. "One word from you is enough."

"Yes, it is," Dion admitted. "Let's see now if you have enough stamina for the both of us," he joked and winked at John. 

A hard slap over his ass made him yelp. "Hold Andreas's ass. He won't be able to walk after this, so remember you two asked for it," John added and plunged deep in the sexy hole presented to him. 

Andreas gasped loudly, but pushed back to meet the assault. John slammed hard inside him, grunting. "You always said I was too big," he managed to say, while pumping deep. 




A Good Servant Ch. 14



"You are, but it feels good to have my ass destroyed like this by you," Andreas moaned and threw his head back. "Dion, please," he begged and the redhead moved to position himself in front of Andreas. 

John was beginning to know that he was going into a veritable sensory overload, as he saw Dion pushing his delicate cock through Andreas's rosy lips. He could not see much from where he stood, but the expression of pure bliss on the redhead's face was telling him Andreas was doing a pretty good job with himself.

"Thank you," he dragged Dion in for a kiss, over Andreas's arching back, as he released himself deep in the pliant body he was riding. 

Dion kissed him back passionately. Making his lover happy was the one thing that could make him happy beyond his words, too.

*****

Author's Note: Well, guys, I think I must apologize first for the long delay, but RL gets in the way many times, so it took much longer than expected to get here.

As you can see, I made a somewhat risqué move with the threesome between Dion, Andreas and John. Where things will go from here, we will see, and I will base my decision on what you will say to me about it. Since it was your special request to keep Andreas in the story, and to go back to Dion and John more, now the responsibility rests on your shoulders ;)

Now, I have a series of comments to leave for all the people who reviewed the previous chapter.

gayTopher, hey, who wouldn't want their story turned into a movie? But I'm no George Martin, I'm afraid. One could fantasize, though ... oh, yeah, that would be so nice.

Cannd, as always, you are on my side, and I greatly appreciate it! Especially about Lucas not stooping on Antoine's level. As far as some of your questions about the Trainers' influence, they will be answered in due time, and I hope this chapter also throws some light on the matter. Since you are asking about the symbol branded on Cory's shoulder, I must admit that it is something I drew from history, and not from my imagination. The lily flower was a symbol burned into the shoulders of prostitutes back in medieval ages, but, intriguingly enough, it is also considered a symbol of royalty in France, with the three petals standing for what I wrote in the story "those who work, those who fight, and those who pray". Who will belong to which category we will see further down the road. Also, about what you asked about Lucas's and Cory's relationship being frowned upon, unlike the affection shared by Antoine and his master, what I can tell you is that the latter was not the same, since Antoine was encouraged to have sex with others and Arnaud's preference was seen as nothing but a temporary whim, easy to accept.

Lysana, I'm glad to receive greetings from Germany! I hope you will continue to enjoy the story.

DreamToCome, I kind of counted on shocking everyone because the Trainers are the evil in the story, so they should do evil stuff. Where do I get ideas for names of the places? Practically, from everywhere; whether there is something I hear or see, or something I play, since I used to play a lot of video games.

Nanobot, it's great that you're still enjoying the story! I hope I will pull this through without disappointing too much!

For the Anon who particularly wanted to see more of Andreas, I have no idea if the current course of action is what you expected (probably not, he, he). As for the inspiration, well, desole, je suis pas Francais, but I did get some of my inspiration related to this subject from a book written by a French author. It's Portrait du Diable en Chapeau Melon, by Serge Brussolo, if you ever heard of the book. 

Chris, I know I let you last, but I hope you don't mind too much. I am so excited somebody knew about the symbol! For me, it was an obscure memory at first, since I read The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Duman when I was in 4th grade or something like that. Milady is the one wearing the brand in the book, and the idea was to show her to the world as being a whore. I know I will have to work on Lucas's role on the following chapters, since he is the one remaining behind. Uh, that will be really tough! You are so right about examples made of glass. Perfection is never real. Small mistakes often gather to create a wave that has the potential to change everything. (wink, wink). And it's like you are reading my mind with your phrase "union is strength". Of course Ayn won't stay away; he's in my plans from the beginning, and what will happen will create an even stronger bond between him and Xav. And as far as he being a brat ... spot on! I must also say that I saw the pictures, and yes! That could be Ayn's home! I hope the 7 seconds were not too long ... I used to love that song when it was on MTV on heavy rotation in the 90s ... 

Until next time, the author takes a bow and goes back to her corner to write some more. Thank you everyone!



A Good Servant Ch. 15



Author's note: Warning - minor character's death.

*****

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Dion spoke, watching Andreas as the blond stood there, with his hand on the door knob.

"Yes, I'm sure," Andreas nodded. "For what is worth, though, Dion, thank you. You're really a swell guy. Who knows? Maybe back in Drena, we could have been friends."

"We're friends now," Dion offered and was rewarded with a small smile.

"Friends ... Yes, I'm ok with being friends. Take care of John for me, will you?"

"You know I will," Dion embraced him shortly.

After Andreas left, he headed back to the bedroom. Slowly, careful not to wake up the other, he slid under the covers. As John moved in his sleep, a bear like arm landed on top of him. Dion moved a little, trying to adjust to the weight, but the arm grabbed him and pulled him tighter towards the sleeping man. Apparently, there was no escape for him.

He shook John, gently at first, then more energetically. Eventually, the man woke up.

"Is it morning already?" John mumbled.

"No, not yet, but you're heavy," Dion complained, but he was smiling.

John blinked and looked around. "Is he gone?" he asked, and Dion didn't have to guess who John was speaking about.

"Yes."

"Good," John replied, without hiding a sigh of contentment.

"Hey!" Dion punched his arm.

"What?" the brunet looked at him confused. 

"I thought you wanted him!"

"For a fuck, yeah, but not as a fixture," John spoke so genuinely, that Dion burst into laughter. 

Now John was awake. With a small growl, he rose and grabbed Dion by the shoulders, pushing him into the mattress.

"Now, I should really have a talk with you, young man," he threatened, and Dion stuck his tongue at him.

"You're not that old," the redhead retorted.

"Older than you, that's all you need to know. Stop changing the subject. Now, enlighten me. Why did you call Andreas over?"

"It's too late to have regrets," Dion glared.

"I don't. So did you tell him to leave or did he leave on his own?"

"He left because he wanted to. I tried to stop him, but ..."

"Why stop him? Do you need extra help in the kitchen?" John raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"No," Dion shifted, feeling a bit uncomfortable under John's intense gaze. "Because I thought you and he ..."

"There is no he and I, Dion. There's only you and I. Understood?"

Something in John's tone bore no contra-argument. Dion nodded. John continued to keep him there, with a thoughtful expression on his harsh face. 

"Dion," John started. "It was a nice surprise, but let's leave it at that. Did I want to fuck Andreas? Yes, I did. But he went away, and I have no intention to have him back. The place is taken, and you should know better that I would not trade you for the world. Also, I am definitely against any kind of drama in my home. I had enough of it. Now, I want you to tell me, clear and straight to my face, if you feel like I'm not enough for you."

Dion's eyes grew wide. "W-what?" he stammered. "I thought it was the other way! I thought I won't be enough for you!"

John chuckled softly. "Really?" he grabbed a few fiery strands and wrapped them around his fingers. "You're fucking gorgeous. And you always let me have my way with you. Every day, every time I need you. I should really get worried that I might break you."

"You cannot break me," Dion protested feebly, fascinated with the intense look in John's dark eyes. 

"Yes, it looks like resilience is among your many qualities ..." John cooed, while planting small kisses over Dion's face. 

"What qualities?" the redhead questioned. He might have looked pathetic for asking to be complimented, but he was hungry for it.

"Well, besides the fact that you are an absolute stunner, and that gets me in trouble at least a few times daily ..."

"How is that getting you into trouble?" Dion murmured, feeling a small giddy sensation growing in his chest. 

"Mainly because guys at work keep pestering me with questions, like how good are you in bed, and if I'd be willing to share ... Yeah, in your dreams, fuckers!" John became a little agitated, and Dion hurried to caress the man's cheeks, covered in short stubble, and calm him down. 

"Anyways, you are everything the doctor ordered from top to bottom," John let one hand wander over Dion's lithe form, caressing a naked hip and sliding beneath to cup the redhead's nicely shaped buttocks. "And what a nice bottom you have," he joked. "But it's more to you than just looks."

"Is it?" Dion whimpered softly. He wanted to hear more, but he was this close to beg John to take him. He seriously doubted the man could handle a conversation while ramming the redhead's bum hard and fast, as he liked it.

"You're kind. You're generous. You're a great cook, and you know how to listen. You're smart, and you always come up with ideas that would never cross my mind. You are good with people. But not even all these can explain."

"Can explain what?" Dion muttered, as John's mouth hovered closely to his. 

"Why each time you look at me with those large warm eyes of yours, my heart starts beating faster. This has never happened to me before."

"Not even with Andreas?"

"Not even with him. I wanted to fuck him. Yes, I did. But, from the first time I saw you looking at me, that day, in the cafeteria ..."

"You remember!" Dion said excited. 

"Of course I do. Stop interrupting," he warned, and the redhead bit his lips. John's calloused fingers brushed over his mouth. "That first time told me that I was in deep trouble. That if you were ever to get close to me, I'd fight a losing battle."

"Why? Why a losing battle?"

"I got a taste of bad medicine when I met Andreas. I thought I learned my lesson. I was seriously trying to tell myself you were just temptation in flesh and blood. That you were going to mess with my head and leave, too. I was pretty sure I wanted to stay away. But then you chose me, and there was no escape for me. Yet, the fool I was ... I still tried to fight my attraction for you. You seemed so eager to please, and that really got on my nerves, because I was running out of arguments. The only way I could protect myself was to see you as little as possible."

"Protect yourself?" Dion giggled. "You're double my size."

"And still you bring me to my knees. How do you explain that?" John challenged him, while pushing the covers aside and planting himself between Dion's long legs. 

"I do not do such things," Dion denied sheepishly. 

"You're still blushing," John kissed his cheeks slowly, while sneaking one hand between them, so he could guide his cock towards the secret entrance he was so enthralled with. "Why?"

"I'm not sure I deserve such praise," Dion murmured, feeling unsure and hesitant. 

"You do. You deserve everything and more," John started to push inside, as Dion adjusted his position to allow the intrusion. "You deserve, Dion, because you made me fall in love with you."

For the briefest of seconds, Dion could swear his heart stopped beating. As John's tongue probed his mouth, while his cock sheathed itself in Dion's body, the redhead breathed deeply. In the man's arms, he was whole again. He was whole as he had never been in his entire life. He could not remember a time in his life, when he had felt so happy, not even as a kid. He threw his long arms to embrace the mountain of heat pouring over him, inside him, filling him. He had John, and John loved him. Everything bad he had ever felt in his life disappeared; there was nothing else but the absolute sensation of happiness that was unfurling in his chest.

He kissed John back with all his might. "I love you, John," he spoke, when they had to stop and fight for air. "You are the one for me."

The brunet didn't need any more incentive. As he voiced his release inside Dion's body, met by the redhead's natural spasms of his own orgasm, they both knew the world outside their small home didn't matter. The honesty of their emotions flooded them, making them feel clean, reborn anew, in a better place, built only by them. 

~A Good Servant~

Ayn surely was a cocky one, Xavier observed his partner with the corner of his eye. With an arm thrown over Xavier's shoulders, Ayn was animatedly talking to everyone they happened to meet. Xavier could hardly shake off the sensation that the brunet was parading him all over the place, looking forward to cause the others' envy. Apparently, the others had no intention to disappoint Ayn, either, and they were loudly voicing their opinions.

"You finally let your man out of the cave, Ayn?" one questioned, while his eyes raked over Xavier's body, like he was trying to scan him or something. 

"Yeah, aren't you afraid he's going to get stolen, now?" another butted in, eyeing Xavier in a manner that left little to the imagination in regards to the man's intentions.

"You're free to try," Ayn waved his free hand, but he instantly pulled Xavier closer with the other. "I hope you are already making plans on how to dance a dickless jig," he threatened, and the guys laughed.

Xavier could not exactly tell whether they were just bantering or really wanted to make a pass at him. These men here were like no others he had met before. And he had thought himself to be a good judge of character. Ayn's place had different rules.

The men were not the worst, though. When a tall, slim brunette jumped in Ayn's arms, making the man lose his grip on Xavier for a short while, the former ruler of Drena could swear he wanted back to his "cave".

"Ayn, I heard you were back! Why didn't you come by?" she pouted. 

Xavier rolled his eyes. The brunette was talking to Ayn, but she was looking at him shamelessly. Xavier couldn't make much of the way she looked at him. He had met very few women, and even then, he had not conversed much with them. For him, they were strange creatures, of which, he would not have normally admitted, he was a bit afraid. 

To his displeasure, Ayn's hands came to rest on the woman's tiny waist. "As you see, Myra, I am a bit busy," the brunet gestured towards Xavier.

Apparently, the woman took the gesture as indication she could inspect Xavier closer. Even worse, touch him. She rested her hands on Xavier's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. She didn't look an inch impressed with all the disdain gathered in eyes the color of the storm. 

"I've heard you've taken a male lover, so I was intrigued," she smiled sweetly, while she was practically devouring Xavier with her eyes. 

Xavier knew it would have been impolite to shake off the woman's touch. He was wondering, though, if there was any common sense rule against wanting to strangle her on the spot. The familiarity with which she was talking to his Ayn was making him short of a fuse. 

"But, seeing how fine he is ..." she bit her bottom lip, and laughed. "... I cannot hold it against you. You really got yourself a looker. Even so, this should not make you a stranger. Bring him along and stop by my place. The girls will go crazy over him," she emphasized the last words. 

"I am afraid we will have to decline your invitation," Xavier spoke thinly.

Her dark eyes grew wide and then she burst into laughter. "Wow, Ayn, he's a tough cookie, isn't he?" she barely managed. 

The good part was that she had eventually let go of his shoulders. 

Ayn took his place again, by Xavier's side. "Sorry, Myra, you heard what my love here said. Maybe some other time. Plus, instruct the girls to keep their hands to themselves."

"Or what?" Myra flicked her long mane over her shoulder. "I heard you're ready to fight all the guys in Haven, if there was one crazy enough to lay a finger on your sweetheart. But what are you going to do against a bunch of horny girls?"

Ayn seemed to ponder for a bit. "Against them? Nothing. But I'll have to put Xav under key again. And then he will be miserable and hate all of you."

"Oh," Myra smirked. "Hitting below the belt, aren't you? Alright, they will behave. After all, unlike the guys, we're satisfied with just having the pleasure to see him. Just come by some time."

Turning to Xavier, she caressed his cheek shortly. "Xav, is that your name, cutie?"

Before Xavier could say anything, Ayn answered. "For you, it's Xavier. I am the only one to call him Xav."

The brunette giggled. "Ayn, you're really in love, aren't you?"

Xavier stole a furtive glance in Ayn's direction. He held his breath, waiting for his partner's answer. Ayn did nothing but laugh. Unlike Xavier, Myra thought she heard a 'yes', according to her reaction.

"Oh, just wait until the girls hear this! It was time for mighty Ayn to be brought to his knees! I'll drink in the honor of your love tonight!"

She winked at Xavier. "Later, Xav!"

"Xa-vi-er," Ayn shouted after her, but she ran away laughing. 

"Can you please enlighten me what is she to you?" Xavier said on a far more accusing tone than he had intended in the first place.

Ayn cocked his head to one side and stared at him. "Why do you care?" he challenged, and Xavier could swear he could hear his own teeth grinding.

"She was obviously very familiar and she took some liberties in touching me," Xavier continued.

Ayn shrugged. "So? Myra touches everyone. Be thankful she didn't cradle you in her arms and smooch you to death."

The brunet started laughing seeing the horrified expression painted on Xavier's face. "Oh, that's right. You don't have women in that weird city of yours. They're a lot of fun," he winked and the former Ruler of Drena chose to ignore him.

"Aren't you going to ask me what kind of fun?" Ayn got closer and touched Xavier's waist.

"I am not at all interested in your dealings with girls," Xavier glared in turn, but didn't shake off the touch.

Ayn took that as an invitation to invade his partner's space even more. Soon enough, their lips were locked together and they were kissing right there, in the middle of the street.

A lewd whistle interrupted them. Both stared in anger at the intruder.

"Ayn, what the hell, man? Didn't you have enough time to tell your girlfriend goodbye?" a man in his late 20s inquired. His words seemed angry, but his eyes were laughing. 

Xavier measured him from head to toes. His clothes were covered in dust and the man must have seen better days himself. He was rugged, with long, entangled hair that could easily become a home for birds. Xavier could not say he would have been surprised to see a flock of birds flying away from the guy's twisted strands.

Even so, he was not entirely unappealing. His eyes were light in color, somewhere between green and blue, and made a strong contrast against his tanned skin. The fine wrinkles around the man's eyes said the guy was really enjoying his laughs, as well as long journeys across the desert. He was a piece of work, and Xavier could not feel any antipathy towards him.

"Marcus, my man," Ayn let go of his lover to embrace the intruder in a manly hug. "I thought you were still out there," he gestured in a vague direction.

"Came back, found out you got yourself a man," the man named Marcus looked at Xavier over Ayn's shoulder. "Where did you get him? Dress him up all you like, it's like he's screaming that he's not from around here."

"I am, as you can see, present," Xavier punctuated his words with a studied sigh, "so there is no need to talk about me in the third person. Any question you might have can be addressed directly."

Marcus laughed wholeheartedly. "If that's the case, who's on top? Did you get to bugger Ayn here really good? He always looks like he needs a good shag."

Xavier's jaw went slack. He was about to say something, when Ayn intervened. "Of course I'm on top, what the hell do you think I am," he pushed Marcus playfully. "And before starting asking other stupid questions, yes, he's all mine, and I'm not going to share. Live with it."

"I wasn't going to ask that!" Marcus grinned, a clear sign that Ayn's suspicions were totally right. "Anyways, Ayn, I'd love to chat you up, guys, but we need to get going. If you're game, I'm leaving now."

Ayn stole a quick glance in Xavier's direction. "I'm game, as always. Xav, you're coming, too."

Marcus snorted. "Yeah, right. Leave Mr. Gorgeous Ass here. He'd only slow us down."

"He won't. He needs to come," Ayn insisted.

Marcus sighed. "Alright, but he's on you. If anything happens, I'll leave your sorry asses behind like there's no tomorrow. Don't count on me."

"Like you'd ever leave someone behind," Ayn said all knowingly. "Should I remind you how you dragged me along half the desert, with a bullet in my thigh? Why didn't you feed me to the coyotes?"

"I doubted they would have liked your flesh. Plus, you have tough skin. The pour coyotes would have broken their teeth in you," the man grinned and Xavier felt a bout of sympathy washing over him.

"And coyotes are your long forgotten kin," Ayn said ironically, but he was grinning, too.

"Who knows? I've fucked some strange creatures in my life," Marcus joked. "One of the damned women I've brought to bed could have been half coyote, for all I care. I only know I've been drunk plenty of times to not remember such details as too hairy legs or too many legs."

Even Xavier felt compelled to laugh. This Marcus guy really sounded like a good friend of Ayn, and Xavier felt like he could trust him. 

"So, is he getting a gun?" Marcus questioned. "Sorry," he turned towards Xavier, "is Your Majesty getting a gun?" he faked a bow, balancing his enormous frame in a comical curtsy. 

"Not yet. He needs to prove himself, just like anyone else," Ayn spoke and threw Xavier a strange look.

"If I am to come along, I should at least be informed of what is expected of me," Xavier said with a glare directed at Ayn.

"What is expected?" Marcus scratched his head. "Basically, we go in, we hit, we take everything we can, and we run."

Xavier looked at the man, obviously confused. "Where?"

"The first city we find that is not ours, and has nice fat warehouses waiting to be plundered."

"Oh," was the only short reply Xavier could issue. 

"Are you ready?" Marcus slapped his hands together.

"I was born ready," Ayn boasted. "Xav?"

"Am I going to be involved in some criminal activities?" he questioned, trying to stall for time.

Ayn chuckled. "Well, if you consider shopping without paying, criminal activities, then this is exactly what we are going to do. You can always stay at home, if you want. Or I could leave you with Myra. She'll drive you crazy, but you'll be safe with the girls."

The prospect was not a very attractive one for Xavier. He dismissed Ayn's proposal with a flick of his wrist. "I think I prefer the criminal activities. I am afraid spending even just a couple of minutes in that woman's company will drive me to do something regretful."

Marcus was howling with laughter. "Did Myra scare him really well?"

"He's exaggerating. He hasn't seen many girls in his life."

"Really?" Marcus looked at Xavier, clearly surprised.

"He's from Drena," Ayn said shortly and realization dawned on Marcus's face.

"Then he may want to learn what real fun looks like," Marcus offered and gestured for the other two to follow him.

~A Good Servant~

"And what is this supposed to be?" Xavier crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Marcus's self proclaimed means of transportation without hiding his disdain.

"This is our car," Marcus said simply.

"Do you call this a car?" Xavier gestured towards the old van that looked one second away from giving in and turning into dust.

"Never judge a car until you've seen what's under the hood," Marcus grinned and made a dramatic pause before lifting the rusty hood.

Xavier's eyes grew wide. "Is that a TS80DETT?" he barely managed.

"A man who knows a bit about engines," Marcus stared at Xavier with admiration. "Yeap, it's even an improved version."




A Good Servant Ch. 15



"Improved? How?" Xavier leaned over to take a closer look at the shiny engine hiding inside the dying carcass. 

"You'll see," Marcus clicked his tongue in satisfaction for managing to impress the haughty man playing house with Ayn.

The brunet intervened. "Got the guns, now, let's go. I'll sit in the back with Xav."

"Alright, but if I catch you make out while I'm on boring driving duty ..." Marcus threatened.

Ayn shrugged. "Then don't fucking look in the mirror."

A wholehearted laugh was the answer.

Soon, they were embarked in the strange vehicle. Xavier looked out the back window at the cloud of dust raised in their path. His life was going to change forever. The former Ruler of Drena was going to be involved in a criminal act. He could give Ayn and Marcus away and return to his former life, if the city they were headed to was known to him. Chances were it was. But did he really want to do that?

With the corner of his eye, he studied Ayn. Despite the playful banter, the brunet looked serious, while he was checking two heavy pistols. Of course, none was for him. Ayn had said that he had to prove himself. He was wondering what exactly that was supposed to mean. 

Ayn rose and rummaged through a rusty box. He threw a grey garment at Xavier. 

"We're supposed to look like delivery boys. Put it on."

Without a word, Xavier obeyed. Ayn was doing the same thing. After they were both dressed, their face half hidden under grey caps, Ayn took one of the pistols and handed it to Marcus, in front.

"We'll go inside, tell them what we need. Be prepared with the car. And put the shade on, don't let the fuckers see you."

"Roger that, chief," Marcus said playfully and pushed a button. The front window got darker.

"Where do you have this kind of technology from?" Xavier questioned, impressed for the second time with Marcus's vehicle.

"Here, there," came the driver's reply.

That was a clear sign that he was not supposed to question them any further. That Xavier managed to realize on his own. Maybe he was going to question Ayn more later.

The car made a swift turn and Ayn gestured for Xavier to get out. 

Xavier took in his surroundings.

"Is this Teran?" he asked.

Ayn threw him a sidelong glance. "You know your way around, it seems."

"I've been visiting here."

"Of course you've been. Now you're visiting again," Ayn slapped his shoulder and guided him towards one of the lateral metallic doors. "The difference is you're not taking the front door."

Xavier looked at the tall dark walls of the city. Teran was known for producing basic materials, but they were also specialized in making fine liquor and various foods. 

Ayn knocked on the door loudly. Eventually, a man in his 30s opened the door and watched the two with dull eyes. 

"Yes?" he eventually asked.

Ayn spoke. "We are here for a special delivery. Big party down in Drena."

Xavier threw him a venomous look.

The man at the door didn't budge. "I didn't get any notice."

"Well, it's last minute stuff. They took us directly from our beds, and we rode the entire night to get here."

"What you need?"

Calmly, Ayn started enumerating the most expensive stuff Teran was producing. Xavier could not believe the guy's courage. Some of those things were rarities even at the most lavish parties in Drena. Obviously, Ayn was doing nothing by half. 

The man eventually moved out of the way. "I don't have help around, since I didn't know any special order on the way. Who do you say sent you?"

"The first Ruler of Drena, Lord Xavier," Ayn said bluntly and Xavier froze. 

What was Ayn really thinking? Word of his disappearance from Drena must have been sent out already. 

The man showed no sign that he knew anything, and Xavier slowly let out the air he was keeping inside his lungs.

They were guided along long metallic shelves. While Ayn was instructing him what to carry at the door, Xavier obeyed without a sound.

It looked like everything was going to work out. Xavier had to admit that he was relieved they were not going to use force. 

"Wait," the man from the storage spoke, when they were about to start loading their wares inside Marcus's vehicle. "What the fuck is this?"

Xavier felt his blood turning into ice in his veins. As he turned, an ominous feeling washed over him. His senses went in high alert in an instant. It was like he was watching the scene unfolding in front of his eyes in slow motion. He watched the man as his right hand went to his waist and he acted on instinct. He punched the man from the left, short but strong, and the man's head made a loud, crashing sound. Its owner fell to the ground like a bag of potatoes.

Xavier was breathing heavily, towering over his victim. The man was sprawled on the floor, in a weird, comical position, his hand still touching his holster.

A loud laughter made him turn with murder in his eyes. Ayn was staring at him, his eyes moist from so much laughing, his entire body shaking.

"What the fuck, man? Why did you hit him?"

"What?! He was going to ..." Xavier gestured towards the unconscious form on the floor.

"He was just trying to call his superior. I could easily talk my wait out of it," Ayn said with satisfaction, but there was something strange in his eyes, as his bout of laughter was dying out and he was looking at Xavier, as he stood there, his fists closed.

"What drew his attention?" Xavier questioned.

"Marcus's van is always making a fine impression," Ayn grinned. "Come now, let's load these and fast. Soon enough, someone will come to investigate and will find this poor shmuck barely recovering from being hit by the first Ruler of Drena."

Xavier pursed his lips. His blood was still boiling and he didn't mind hitting another shmuck. 

Soon enough, they had everything loaded in Marcus's van, and they were putting great distance between them and Teran.

"What happened there?" Marcus questioned them.

"Xavier punched the guard," Ayn said with a satisfied grin.

Marcus turned to stare back at Xavier. "For real? You're shitting me, right? Why?"

"He thought the idiot was going to shoot or something."

Marcus laughed. "Good one, Your Majesty."

"How can you two be so careless?" Xavier ignored the ironic honorific Marcus was addressing him with. "Why don't you paint your van? And why don't you give me all the details in advance?" he turned towards Ayn.

"My van is gorgeous just the way it is," Marcus boasted and continued to stare at Xavier, challenging him.

"You turn back to your place and keep your eyes on the road," Xavier commanded.

Something in his tone bore no resistance or further comments, so, with a shrug, Marcus obeyed. 

Xavier focused his attention on Ayn, now that he had Marcus back to his position. Although the brunet was still smiling, Xavier was not at all amused.

"Can you please enlighten me why did you use my name?" he inquired.

"Don't you want to know if your people are looking for you? As you can see, Drena likes keeping its shit together. Either the idiot you hit didn't know anything, or the guys back in Drena don't give a rat's ass that you went missing."

There was some logic in what Ayn was saying, but Xavier was still mad. "It's the first and last time I intervene because I think someone is putting your life in danger," he no longer kept it in.

"Nah," Ayn stretched and yawned lazily. "You love me too much. Nice knowing you care," he looked at Xavier, his eyes at half mast. 

"I certainly do not," Xavier looked away with a huff.

"Isn't love beautiful?" Marcus could not help commenting. He faked a sigh. 

"This conversation doesn't concern you," Xavier chided him sharply, and the driver laughed.

"You got your work cut out for you, Ayn, with this one," Marcus added. "Soon enough, he'll boss you around, and you'll obey like a puppy on a leash."

Ayn continued to stare, the same mysterious smile twisting his beautiful lips. "I told you, Marcus, I'm the boss, not him."

Xavier closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was in no mood to be the butting joke for Ayn and his friend. 

~A Good Servant~

They were welcomed back like heroes. Xavier helped the two others share the goods among the people of all ages that were gathering around them. 

A kid with eyes big as saucers touched his arm. "Mister, can I have a candy?"

Xavier watched the small boy and tried, for a split moment, to remember how it was like when he was a child. He had nothing but the best. The best clothes, the best food, the best education. The kid before him was scrawny and could use some new clothes, and, although the people in Haven looked like they managed to carry on with their existence without complaining, it was obvious plenty of room for improvement.

He rummaged through one of the boxes and chose a huge lollipop. He handed it to the kid, and the boy's eyes grew even larger. "Thanks a lot!" the child snatched the candy from his hand and ran away.

Xavier stared after the child for a while. Something scratched his hearing and his attention was drawn to a scene that was not at all to his liking.

Myra was loudly expressing her gratitude, embracing Ayn and making sounds that could easily compete with a rusty door. 

"Ayn, you're the best! The girls will love these!" she was happily commenting.

"Nothing but the best for my girls," Ayn kissed the woman's cheek casually and handed her one box Xavier suspected was full of liquor.

He could not take it anymore. He turned on his heels and headed for the place he had to call home for now. 

~A Good Servant~

Half an hour passed until Xavier heard the front door opening, sign that Ayn was home, too. He jumped from the bed. He was going to have a talk with the annoying brat. 

"Why did you leave?" Ayn questioned, while taking off his jacket and throwing it on the bed.

"And do what instead? Watch you rubbing against everyone like a dog in heat?"

Ayn stopped and looked at him, visibly surprised. "Are you jealous?" he grinned, and threw Xavier a sidelong glance. "C'mon, Myra's just a friend."

It took Xavier less than a second to reach Ayn, grab him and throw him on the bed with his face down.

"What the ...?" Ayn tried to get up from the bed, but he was pushed back, his words muffled, as Xavier kept his head down. 

His pants were roughly pushed over his buttocks, as an impatient hand reached between them and fingers probed him. 

Xavier could hear the pounding of his blood in his ears. He wanted nothing but to teach the brat a good, hard lesson. It didn't matter that he was pretty much Ayn's prisoner. He could not take it anymore. 

He clumsily pushed his own jeans down to free his engorged member. He spit and made himself slick quickly. "Who's on top now, Ayn?" he challenged through his teeth as he pushed inside, uncaring.

He had to bite back a low moan, feeling the familiar heat engulfing him like so many times before. He stopped for a second, just to enjoy the sensation. Ayn made no sound, but he moved, and Xavier didn't want to miss his chance to put things in order. 

He slammed against Ayn's gorgeous ass fast. The sound of flesh against flesh ignited his desire further. He let go of Ayn's head so he could grab the man's hips and fuck him as hard as he wanted. 

This was not going to be about Ayn's pleasure, but about his revenge. But the brunet was wiggling his butt beneath him, provoking him, and his short, punishing thrusts soon became slower, more thoughtful, as Xavier was falling back to the way he so much enjoyed when making love to his former slave. 

His low moans resembled those of an animal. He could not believe that was him, he could not believe he could lose control so badly. He was a prisoner, indeed; but there were no chains or locks keeping him there. The arched back moving slowly to meet his thrusts, the beautiful raven hair, begging to be touched, and the almost aristocratic profile he could see from his vantage point as Ayn moved his head to one side so he could breathe, all were his doom. 

He surrendered. There was no going back for him. As he voiced his pleasure as a cry of victory, he heard Ayn like through a haze. 

"It looks like you're on top now, Xav."

The words were spoken softly, like a declaration of love. Xavier collapsed next to his lover, and covered his face with his hands, while still trying to regain his breath.

"I thought you settled for being a bottom," Ayn commented, while touching Xavier's elbow, and pressing his lips against the man's ear. "It was kind of disappointing, really."

Xavier uncovered his face to look at Ayn. Almond shaped eyes were staring at him. There was honesty in them, and a lot of affection. Xavier felt his heart growing smaller. 

"Why? You missed having me ...?" he trailed off.

"Fuck me?" Ayn chuckled softly. "Yeah, I guess I did. I think I've provoked you on purpose, since we got here, just to have you react."

"I thought you hated it," Xavier mumbled. 

"I did, at first. But, just to be clear, I will continue to fuck you, too. You're really great at that," the brunet winked at him, and Xavier smiled. "Let's take a shower. I want to be inside you just as badly as you wanted me."

It was so easy for Ayn to express his wants and needs. Xavier wanted that, too; he wanted to be free.

"By the way," Ayn commented as he helped Xavier up. "It was really cool what you did for me in Teran. It was not such a big danger, but you proved yourself."

"As a member of your tribe or something?" Xavier questioned, as he followed Ayn to the small bathroom.

"No. As my partner," Ayn helped Xavier inside the shower and kissed him roughly on the lips. "Don't worry about the guys. They're just teasing."

"I'm not worried about the guys," Xavier said with a pout, letting himself turned by Ayn, and having his ass lavished with attention by strong hands. 

"Myra?" Ayn questioned, as he knelt to rim the hole he enjoyed so much fucking.

"Yes," Xavier admitted meekly.

"We used to fuck," Ayn admitted simply.

Xavier had a mind to push Ayn away, but the man's hands kept him in place.

"Don't be stupid. It's all in the past. Now, we're just friends. And, even when we fucked, me and her? We were nothing like this."

"Like this, how?" Xavier almost begged, as Ayn returned to rimming him deeply.

The brunet stopped again. "I don't know exactly. Crazy, wonderful, like I'd never stick my cock in anyone else all my life."

Xavier threw his head back in ecstasy, as the deft tongue was soon replaced by Ayn's meaty organ. It always felt like a bit of a stretch to have the man inside, but it was making him see stars behind closed eyelids. Ayn's hands moved to tease his nipples, just the way both liked it.

They both took pleasure in the act this time. One of Ayn's hands covered Xavier's erect cock and started pumping it in the same rhythm. Xavier turned his head, so their lips could connect, and Ayn met him half way. 

"Be my partner, always?" Ayn begged, as his breath accelerated. 

"Yes," Xavier offered his reply.

It did not happen all the times for them to come at once, but now it was one of those magical times when the time just stood still, and their love making was the only thing that counted. 

For the first time in his life, Xavier felt truly loved. It was not the Trainers' cold caring, or his many lovers' fleeting affection; this was real.

~A Good Servant~

"For the last time, where did you get this item? Who gave it to you?" the Head Trainer's cold voice inquired.

It was not like Vacchiari to be courageous. It was never a good time for a merchant to be that. 

"Why should I tell you? You're going to kill me anyway."

"Yes, you will be dead. The only problem is when and how long is it going to take," the Head Trainer sat down on the high wooden chair, and took in the bloodied form hanging like a doll from the wall.

One of the grey forms looming around in the room moved with a torch in his hand.

"There are things that can make men go crazy with fear," the Head Trainer commented in the same cool, even voice. 

"Death is death," Vacchiari said simply, but he was trying to keep track with his eyes of the Trainer approaching with the torch burning brightly.

"What could be your most important weakness? Fear?" the Head Trainer continued. "Could it be fire? Fear of drowning? Devoured by beasts? So many possibilities. It is a good thing we have so much time on our hands."

"How much time?" Vacchiari faked bravado.

"Endless," the Head Trainer answered and gestured for his brother to proceed.

Loud screams and smell of burned skin filled the room.

"Now, Vacchiari, who gave you the stone? We know it was one of the Rulers, because no one else has such precious things, but who? We don't want to cause any disturbance, questioning our most beloved sons. So, please, spare yourself the pain, and just say it."

"Fuck you," Vacchiari spat. For some unfathomable reason, he no longer feared. Death was to be feared when it was an uncertainty. Once it became unavoidable, fear became useless.

The torture continued. The Head Master came and went, and asked the same question over and over again. 

Eventually, he sat down with a piece of paper in front of him. 

"You were not supposed to be alive in the first place," the Head Master commented. "You were saved by miners who found you almost buried alive. We suppose you were one of the dejects. The ones who could not be used. We were obviously right. So, your biggest fear must be ..."

Vacchiari's heavy breathing was the only sound filling the room. 

"Take him outside. Dig a hole and throw him there. He's of no use to us anyway."

A long howling sound was the effect of the Head Trainer's words.

"What? Are you afraid of being buried alive?"

"Don't, don't, don't," Vacchiari begged as his head lolled back and forth. He could no longer think straight. Who cared about him anyway?

"We can take pity and ease your pain right away. There is nothing beyond death. No suffering, my son," the Head Trainer spoke softly. "Who was it?" he demanded.

"Don't bury me alive!" Vacchiari shouted. "It was Lord Lucas!"

The Head Trainer sat back in his chair. "Thank you."

He gestured towards his brothers. "Finish here."

*****

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, guys, I know the new chapter was long overdue. I had the flu and then had to deal with all the work left behind, so no matter how much I wanted to get this going, I couldn't.

Alright, the threesome between Dion, John and Andreas was pretty much written like fanservice, not really relevant to the storyline. And since so many people expressed their feelings about it and told me that they didn't like it, I think some healing was in order. One thing I can tell you, even if I'm going to disappoint some of you. Andreas is not going to get his love story; he was written as a secondary character and he doesn't really have a role besides being John's ex. And I have to say that you who explained to me that you didn't find the threesome to be a good choice, that you are all right. So, I hope this chapter fixes things. And let's just say goodbye to Andreas, shall we? ;)

There was no room for Cory in this chapter, since exploring Aeria will take more attention to detail, but I focused on Ayn and Xav, so I hope this compensates for 'no Cory' in this chapter. Let me know what you think of how things evolved between the two. There are plenty of adventures for them, as well, as Xavier learns more about Ayn's part of the world. 

Now, I have a few comments to make in particular.

For the 'not French' reader, he, he, let's not use 'anon' anymore, I hope this new chapter mends things as far as John and Dion are concerned. Sorry for the gone wrong fanservice, I really thought John was man enough for both cuties, but, hell, you're right, so ... here is the healing required. I hope you also liked how things evolved between Ayn and Xav in this chapter. God forbids me for making a desperate housewife out of Xav, lol. That'll definitely drive him crazy.




A Good Servant Ch. 15



Cannd, I want to thank you again for being so delicate and telling me what you think with so much care to not hurt my feelings. Part of being a writer is admitting when you're wrong, and it is really good to hear good criticism.

Nanobot, yes, utopias have a strange way of not working ... well, I guess that's why they are called utopias. As always, a well thought out comment and I highly appreciate you taking the time to write a comment.

For the anonymous commenting on the threesome, there were some really great points in your comment, and they were all duly noted. Yes, threesomes can make or break a relationship, and John and Dion are just too good together to make a mess out of them.

DreamToCome, I laughed when I read your comment. I want to thank you for your continuous support and for taking the time to read my story.

Chris, I left you at the end, because you always challenge me that I have to think through every response I give you. First of all, yes, the marking on Cory's shoulder has a deeper meaning, and it will be revealed at the right time. Still remember what the three petals mean? We have already met 'those who work' and 'those who fight', but we are still to meet 'those who pray'. It will take a while until we get there, and it will be all part of Cory's adventures across the continent. I hope I'm not teasing too much. About Aeria, I know it's a tricky thing to have people behave against their own feelings and ideas, but living under a communist regime for a part of my life, I kind of know how this can happen. I just hope I will be able to explain all these better once we delve deeper in Aeria, together with Cory, over the next chapters. As far as Xav and Ayn are concerned, you just spoke my mind ... so I hope this chapter pleases. And don't be too concerned with the threesome and Andreas, they were just a sexy bit, not really something counting for the major plot. Dion and John will remain relevant, nonetheless. 

Thanks everyone, please let me hear your thoughts on the new chapter! It means the world to me to read all your reviews!



A Good Servant Ch. 16



"Lord Lucas," the Head Trainer nodded, acknowledging the Ruler taking seat in front of him.

"Head Trainer," Lucas responded in kind.

The grey hood moved imperceptibly to the side. The long table was made of lacquered solid wood. Bony fingers trailed the shiny surface, like they were searching for something. Lucas was waiting patiently.

"Do you have any idea why I summoned you here?" the Head Trainer finally spoke again.

"I am afraid I cannot go as far as to project assumptions about your intentions, Head Trainer," Lucas answered politely, although he could feel the tips of his fingers turning frosty. 

"A perfect answer," the Head Trainer looked straight into Lucas's dark eyes. 

Lucas had always had troubles sustaining the direct gaze coming from any of the Trainers. The Head Trainer had a particular way to make one feel uncomfortable. The large grey eyes looked as if they had a life of their own. The gaunt face was ashen, cut in stone and the receding gum line only made the strong white teeth look as if they belonged to an animal. Lucas had always felt something akin to revulsion when looking one of the Trainers straight in his face.

"Have you ever been unhappy?" the Head Trainer linked his fingers and continued to stare at Lucas.

"Unhappy? I ... don't think I understand the question," Lucas frowned slightly.

"Unhappy, as in experiencing negative emotions, like loss, sadness, melancholy ..." the old man trailed off, and Lucas felt as if the air in the room was gradually getting colder. 

"I am a psychologist. My education taught me these are nothing but trifle emotions. I might have experienced them fleetingly, but I've always known how to rise above them."

The Head Trainer nodded approvingly. "I and my brothers have always had regrets for not bringing you up here in Drena from an early age. As a child, you were promising, intellectually wise. We could not envision the ugly duck turning into a beautiful swan later in life. You are every inch Drena worthy in both terms of physical beauty and intellect."

"You are flattering me," Lucas spoke, feeling an unpleasant taste pooling on his tongue. 

"We have offered you everything. We have always treated you like you belong here. We have always had trust in you."

"And for that, I want to thank you, yet again."

"Lucas," the Head Trainer's voice dropped to a whisper. "Why are you hurting us, your Fathers?"

Lucas had the presence of spirit to look surprise. "Hurting you? I would never ..."

The Head Trainer slid his hand in one of the large pockets of his grey robe. The large gemstone fell on the wooden table with a small thump. Lucas's eyes remained glued to it. The Head Trainer continued in an even tone.

"I must admit I would not have expected from an ordinary merchant to be so resilient to torture. It was quite a feat to make him break."

Lucas's stomach turned and twisted. 

"There is no point in denying now. Lucas, my child," the Head Trainer spoke softly, "I would like to hear everything."

"Am I going to be put to death?" Lucas eventually articulated.

"Over a trifle thing like this? And lose your beautiful mind? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't it on impulse that you gave the merchant this invaluable stone? Your battle with emotions ... is it getting too hard? We know that you suffered greatly after losing your servant. Cory, his name was?"

"I thought that was solved. I gave him up."

"You did. Your decision was more than laudable. He died in the depths of the mines."

Lucas said nothing, his eyes still drawn to the gemstone that right now equaled his doom.

"How is that making you feel?" the Head Trainer scanned over Lucas.

The Ruler shrugged. "He was no longer my property."

"That is not what I asked you."

"I don't feel anything."

"One fraction of a second."

"What?" Lucas inquired, finally raising his eyes.

"You answered too fast. I am your Father, Lucas. Tell me everything. Don't lie."

"A loss is a loss. I will not deny that I used to have feelings for him. But that was in the past."

"Alright. That will be put to test. But, I want to know one more thing. What was the gemstone for?"

Lucas searched his mind frantically for an answer. "Didn't the merchant tell you?"

"I would prefer hearing it from you, not that lowlife who now rests underground."

It was a trap. It had to be. Lucas took a gamble anyway. "I wanted to go to Aeria. On a small visit. I miss my home."

The Head Trainer remained unmoved. "Emotions again ..." he said somewhat regretfully. "You can go back to your quarters, Lucas."

"What will happen to me?" Lucas questioned. 

"You will undergo a re-education program. These emotions are really messing with your mind. We need you to be perfectly functioning for what we have in mind for you."

"Can I know what?"

"That information will become available when the moment is right. And, Lucas, do not plan to run away from home again. Drena is your home. It will always be until your last day."

The Head Trainer's words sounded ominous. Lucas felt dread washing over him. They were going to make him wait, feed on his own suspicions and fears, until they would cull him, ripe for the taking. 

~A Good Servant~

"Strange," Edgar commented. 

"What is?" Cory inquired, peeking his head from behind a huge stack of old books. He was not used to reading so much.

"I was expecting a message from Lucas. The usual messenger hasn't yet arrived."

Cory felt a short pang of pain knifing his chest. "Do you think something's wrong?"

Edgar shrugged. "The desert can be tricky at times. Maybe he just takes longer to get to Aeria. Now, we must prepare to attend a party."

"A party?" Cory asked confused. "I thought you guys never partied."

"Well, we're supposed to take a break once in a while. But I doubt a party in Aeria can ever rival to the lavish happenings that are a fixture in Drena. Now, excuse me, I need to get ready. I left your attire on the back of that chair."

When Edgar came back from the other room, Cory smiled, a bit amused. 

"May I say that you look quite dashing, Edgar?" he giggled.

His host had chosen a black velvet suit with a matching hat. The shirt was white, but the tie was black silk. The attire made the bookworm suddenly look like a beautiful butterfly. 

"You think?" Edgar blushed slightly.

"Oh," Cory said all knowingly. His blue suit was not as elegant as Edgar's, but it looked good on him. "At this party ... will a certain lady be present?"

"A certain lady?" Edgar blushed more this time.

"C'mon, Edgar," Cory teased. In the short time he had spent with the man, he had come to really like him. Edgar was witty, easygoing and even funny, although sometimes that happened without any intention at humor. "Lena will be at this party, right? Will you introduce me to her?"

"And lose her to you?" Edgar faked outrage, and then started laughing. "I must say, Cory. You should be prepared. The ladies will really be all over you. You are very aesthetically pleasing. Now, I must warn you. Their requests may be ... quite strange. Nothing dangerous, and you do not have to worry, as you well know, about any sexual advances. But their scientific interests can sometimes be peculiar, especially in regards to attractive men, like you."

"Now you're making me nervous."

"Don't worry. But do try to keep a low profile."

"Maybe pretend I'm mentally challenged, so everyone leaves me alone?"

"Nonsense. That will make you their lab rat in an instant. They will want to know what's wrong with your brain," Edgar warned. "Just be yourself. So far, you proved to be a very manageable guest, so I think you know very well how to behave in polite society. Actually, I'm afraid I might embarrass you; I basically have two lefts of ... well, everything," he concluded and gestured for Cory to follow him outside.

~A Good Servant~

Everything looked austere. The men and women at the table wore beautiful clothes, but they were basically covered from head to toes. Especially the women were practically swimming in frills and lace, with their small heads peeking over large and convoluted collars. Large hats were covering their heads, so, although he was a bit curious to see them from up close, he quickly realized that there was not so much to see.

"Hello, Edgar," a small woman sat next to them and nodded briefly. "I see you brought a friend," she inspected Cory with her sharp clever eyes, the color of amethyst.

"Hello, Lena. This is a friend of mine from Bluesilver. Hector, this is a good friend of mine, Lena."

Cory, now going by the name of Hector, inclined his head. The woman continued to stare at him.

"Can I feel your skull?" she suddenly asked. 

His jaw went slack. What kind of a strange request was that? He turned to Edgar, only to see the man smiling devilishly at him. He straightened up.

"Of course, please be my guest."

Lena didn't wait for another invitation and rose from the table, to come to Cory's back. She removed his hat and placed it on the table. He felt her small hands feeling his head, like they were searching for something.

"Magnificent," she commented. "Edgar, are you sure your friend is from Bluesilver? It is so unlikely for commoners to exhibit such perfect anatomy, down to the smallest details."

"Lena is an expert in phrenology," Edgar explained.

"Oh, Edgar, you're exaggerating," the woman laughed softly, and her hands stopped their strange explorations for a bit. "And it's just a side hobby, nothing else. The Trainers do not think phrenology is a real science. I'm afraid I still need to deal with boring math on a regular basis."

"What is phrenology?" Cory eventually asked.

"I can tell certain things about you, just by studying your skull," Lena explained. 

"She can even predict the future," Edgar intervened again.

"Really?" Cory felt excited over such a possibility.

"That's nonsense, dear Edgar," Lena's voice turned a bit deeper. "I am just playing with concepts and ideas, nothing more."

"Please, tell me my future," Cory demanded. 

"Alright, but please be aware that this has more to do with personality traits and the most likely things that will happen in your life, based on these traits. There is nothing set in stone, and what I am about to tell you will sound pretty vague."

"I don't care, I'm curious," he insisted. "I mean, if you're not busy," he remembered his manners. He found Aeria a strange place, but the people here were certainly very interesting.

"Well," Lena's fingers descended over his ears and started trailing invisible lines, stopping in places, as if the woman wanted to read something deeper in there. "You are a very balanced person, Hector. Yet, it looks like you are very passionate, too. What science are you specializing in? Since you're here in Aeria, I suppose you want to specialize in a certain discipline."

Cory pondered for a second. "History," he breathed out.

"History?" Lena seemed surprised. "That's nothing but dead science. Who cares about the dead anyway? Once someone is no longer functional, he or she must retreat right away. There is no progress to be obtained from there."

"Oh," Cory spoke, not really knowing what to say.

"Never mind, if that's your cup of tea, that's ok," Lena concluded for him. "Now, take what I will say with a pinch of salt. It looks like you are destined for great things. Who knows? Maybe history will become an important science again. That, or you'll change your specialization," she joked.

Cory was all ears. He really liked this game. "What else? Don't worry. I think it's very entertaining."

Lena's small hands descended on his nape, feeling the base of his skull. "Strange," she whispered. 

"What?" Cory and Edgar asked almost in the same time. 

"It's nonsense. It cannot be," she eventually spoke.

"Please, Lena, don't leave us in the dark. It's not like we believe this fortune telling thing, anyway," Edgar insisted instead of Cory.

She hesitated a few more seconds. "What I feel at the base of your skull is mentioned in a few old books. But I've never seen such a thing, and I've never believed it anyway."

"What is it?" Cory now felt a bit uncomfortable. 

"It looks like ... you have two life lines."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, a loose explanation would be that you have to die once, to live a second life. Have you gone through any near death experiences?"

Cory's mind flew back to the moment back in the mines outside of Drena. "No, I cannot say that I have," he murmured.

Lena's hands disappeared. "I'm really sorry. I should know death is not exactly a great conversation subject at a party. If that makes you feel better, the two life lines can also mean something else. It's a more common explanation."

"What?" Cory's curiosity was piqued. 

"That there is another living inside you. You know, like when you experience strong feelings for someone else. Or ... another for you."

Cory could tell without looking that right now, Lena was staring at Edgar and the man was staring back. He thought of Lucas and his heart grew small.

"Well, enough of this hocus-pocus," Lena was the first to break the awkward silence. "I heard the chef really outdid himself today. Let's enjoy other things besides the usual food for the mind we regularly indulge in."

Like on cue, servants pushing trays of food entered the room. Cory remained thoughtful. Lena's words had hit a bit too close to home. 

~A Good Servant~

"Are you still thinking about what Lena said?" Edgar asked him, once they were back home.

"She's quite an exceptional person," Cory said.

"I know," Edgar's voice was filled with regret. 

"Edgar ... would it be that bad to get close to her? I mean, you know, to become romantically involved?" Cory was trying hard to pick the right words. 

"I could never do that to her. If anyone does such a thing, they are not the only ones punished. The subject of their misplaced affection is punished, as well."

"What does this punishment consist of? Who will know, anyway?"

Edgar frowned. "The Trainers have eyes everywhere. I mean, not exactly eyes, but affection levels can be detected."

"Detected? How?" Cory wondered, confused.

"It's difficult, and it's hard to explain. If two people come together, they will be exposed rather sooner or later. The punishment ... well, the sublimation machine can be used as an execution device."

Edgar really had a pitiful expression when he spoke. "I would not want anything happening to Lena because of me. I would not stand it," he shook his head energetically.

"But Lucas said ..." Cory spoke softly, "that he wanted to take me here. How would have our lives turned to be?"

"He said that?" Edgar was surprised. "That's strange. Maybe he knew something I don't?"

That question was more addressed inwardly than to Cory. 

"About what Lena said ..." Cory changed the subject, his heart heavy. "I did have a near death experience."

"You did?" Edgar showed his surprise.

"While I was escaping. I felt really cold and I had no direction. But, then ... you'll laugh if I tell you."

"No, please, I promise I won't," Edgar grabbed a chair and took a seat. 

"I thought I was dying but then I had this ... hallucination. I saw a woman in a casing inside the wall. She was floating in mid air."

Edgar didn't laugh. "How did she look like?"

"Blonde, long hair, really beautiful ... I think. I don't know many women. I felt growing warm again."

"Anything else?" Edgar pressed.

"The mark on my shoulder," Cory touched his arm gently. "It flared for a brief second. Oh, she had a lily flower in her hand."

"Like the mark," Edgar continued thoughtfully, pursing his lips.

"Then she disappeared, and I knew the way to get out."

Edgar rose and took one of the old tomes from the table. "You know, these were books we were supposed to burn a long time ago," he said casually.

"You personally?"

"Oh, no, we, the people of Aeria. An old man gave them to me, told me to keep them. I thought he was a bit crazy. But he was a happy guy. He didn't have to use the sublimation machine. Not even once. He found his work passionate enough to not care about anything else. Lucky man," Edgar smiled. "He died at 102."

"102?" Cory was flabbergasted.

"Yeap, he saw like five generations of us, or even more. Most thought he was a bit deranged up here," Edgar tapped his right temple, "but they left him alone. Not even the Trainers cared about him. They told us to look at him and see what old age could do to us. He was kind of a cautionary tale. Don't grow too old or something like that. They even made a show of it, undressing him and showing us his sagging skins."

"Poor man," Cory whispered. 

"Oh, he didn't care. Actually, if I think about it, he was very content with his own being. When the Trainers came, he got ready to be presented to the crowds. He joked about it, too. I kind of miss him."

"When did he pass away?" Cory inquired.

"We are not exactly sure. We didn't see him for days and went to his home. It was empty. Who knows where he found his end? We didn't find his corpse."

"So how do you know he's dead?"

Edgar stopped his flipping through the pages and stared at Cory. "He could barely walk. Where could have he gone?"

"And just disappear?" Cory insisted.

"You do have a point," Edgar murmured. "We just supposed he was found by the cleaning crew someplace and taken to the crematory. We didn't give it too much thought. But I still have these books from him."

"What was the old man's name?"

"Hector," Edgar said a bit amused. "I named you after him. I hope you don't mind."

"I hope I get to live till 102," Cory joked.

Edgar laughed while continuing his search. "Aha!" he exclaimed and gestured for Cory to come closer. "Is this her?" he pointed out at the old page on which fine lines, barely visible, showed a woman with a lily flower in one hand and the other placed over her womb. 

Cory took a step back. "That's her!"

Edgar seemed surprised. "Are you sure? You barely looked!"

"I am, I am sure," Cory felt all his pores breaking into a sweat. "It is her!"

"Alright, don't be afraid."

"Who is she?" Cory came closer. Something more powerful than fear was drawing him to the old picture.

"According to what it says here ..." Edgar brought the tome closer to his eyes, "she is the one who was before the Trainers."

"Lucas mentioned her," Cory murmured. "How did he know?"

"Well, he was good friends with Hector. Maybe the crazy old man told him something," Edgar expressed his suspicions.

"But he had to ask you about the lily flower," Cory voiced his thoughts.

"Hector was kind of crazy, as I told you. He always said something like he gave us little truths, and that it was up to us to put them together. Yes, if I remember correctly, he did speak kind of strangely. Not only to me. To everyone. Then suddenly, he fell silent, like he could not speak anymore. His eyes were kind of frightening. They were so grey and so deep. Like the Trainers' eyes."

"The Trainers are eternal," Cory spoke, as he suddenly remembered one of the lessons taught, as a young boy. That phrase had been like a mantra they had to say each and every day.

"What did you say?" Edgar turned to him.

"The Trainers ... they are eternal. They do not die, do they?"

"Yes, that's a known fact. From their love and care, everyone is born. They have power of life and death."

"How are we all born exactly?" Cory questioned. "I know the basics, how the women from Tresalt go to Drena to give birth, but, otherwise ..."

"Oh, it's quite a secret process. The Trainers take care of everything. Pregnancy, as is, is a biological process, but the initiation of the process is entirely in the Trainers' hands. They know exactly what genes to combine in order to fuel the world with workers, scientists, rulers like Lucas ..."




A Good Servant Ch. 16



"... and servants like me," Cory spoke softly. "I wish I knew the woman who carried me in her womb."

"Why?" Edgar was a bit intrigued.

Cory shrugged. He could not pinpoint what he was feeling. Regret? It was more than that. "I am part of her, I think, as I stand here in flesh and blood. It's like she's living through me, but I don't know who she is, and she doesn't know who I am. I think, no, I feel ... it's kind of sad."

Edgar seemed to ponder for a bit. "You're quite an interesting individual, Cory. And not only because of your magnificent skull," he added jokingly. "I've never thought about the woman who gave birth to me. There had to be someone right? And she was not just a vessel ..." the scientist felt his breath stopping, all of a sudden. He caught the back of the chair to regain his stability. 

Cory hurried to his side. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Edgar furrowed his brow. "I must have eaten too much tonight or something."

Cory shook his head. He felt as he was responsible for the unpleasant switch in conversation. "So, if Lena studies phrenology as a side hobby, what do you do for fun?"

The host's face lit up. "Oh, you'll think it's silly," he waved his hand, but he watched Cory, like he was waiting for a reply.

"Try me," the former servant smiled at his new found friend.

"You won't laugh, alright?" Edgar warned as he gestured for Cory to follow him to the back.

"No worries, I really find all this science stuff fascinated."

They descended on ground level and exited in a small backyard. It was entirely surrounded by stone walls, and only the light of a few lamps made the inside yard visible. In the middle of it, there was something tall and large, covered with a huge piece of cloth.

"It's more like a practical ... thing," Edgar said excitedly, as he grabbed one corner of the cloth. "Ready?" he smiled at his guest, and Cory nodded.

"Wow."

That was the only thing the blond could say, as a strange apparatus appeared in front of his eyes. He had never seen such a thing before. He touched the long, slightly twisted blades and started to move around. A cabin with two places lay on top of the apparatus, and just underneath, a huge engine - something he had learned from Edgar, took almost the entire space. Above the cabin, there were some other blades, and as he examined the machinery, he noticed other similar devices, of various sizes to the side.

"Do you like it?" Edgar rubbed his hands with unhidden satisfaction.

"What is it?" Cory didn't hide his admiration and surprise, either.

"It's a flying machine," Edgar said pompously. "Well, err... I mean, this is what I want it to be."

"Does it fly? You mean, up there, in the sky?" It was Cory's turn to show excitement.

"Technically ... yes. But I've never tried it for more than a few minutes. It makes a lot of noise, and I don't want to draw unnecessary attention."

"Why did you make it?" Cory inquired.

"I don't know ... I found the plans and I started tinkering, and here it is. That, and I have a dream that one day, I will just jump in it and fly over the desert, just like that," Edgar said with something akin to embarrassment in his voice. 

"And why don't you do it?" the blond said simply.

Edgar laughed. "And go where? I don't have a plan, although I'd love an adventure."

"Well, it wouldn't be an adventure if you knew your destination, would it?" Cory smiled. 

"Good point yet again, Cory," Edgar nodded. "I've never left Aeria, except on very small trips to Bluesilver, from where we get our prime materials. I have no factual knowledge of the outside world, besides what I know from the books."

Edgar covered his flying machine and they walked back inside.

"Edgar, the woman, the one who was before the Trainers, how did she die?" Cory asked.

"No one says she died, because the Trainers say she is just a legend, and therefore, she never lived."

"That is what they say."

"Correct," Edgar said a bit amused. "Are you sure you haven't dreamed of becoming a scientist? You do have a way to doubt things, Cory."

The former servant laughed. "Before coming here, I didn't know what a scientist was. I would like to read more about the woman, if that's alright with you."

"Please be my guest. Since you've already met her, that might lead us to something."

"You don't think I just had a hallucination?" Cory inquired.

"A hallucination showing you the exact representation of something, in this case someone, you've never known before? There must be a scientific explanation for such a coincidence. Since you show no sign of suffering from a mental condition, I have no reason to doubt your words," Edgar concluded.

~A Good Servant~

The messenger remained standing. Edgar fiddled through the contents of the box he had just received from Drena.

"Are you sure this is all?"

The thin man pursed his lips. "Are you accusing me of stealing?"

"No, I am thinking you might have forgotten something."

"Like what?"

Edgar hesitated. He didn't like this new merchant, and he was a cautious individual, as a common personal rule.

"Never mind, it was nothing important."

The merchant left, but Edgar remained thoughtful. When Cory came into the main room, he was still standing there, the small box in his hands.

"Is there something wrong?" Cory asked, seeing the man's change in composure.

"It was not the usual merchant who got me the new shipment from Drena. There was no personal message from Lucas, either."

A cold chill ran down Cory's spine. 

"Something is wrong," he murmured. 

"Yes, something must be wrong," Edgar added. "Cory, I don't want to frighten you, but I don't think you are still as safe as I thought you were. The merchant didn't see you, but he was looking around, like he was searching for something."

Edgar went to the window and saw the merchant, walking empty handed, to knock on a different door. The person opening the door conversed for a while with him, then the man turned and proceeded to knock on a different door.

"What did you find so far, Cory?"

"About the woman with the lily flower? Just a bit. It's a big book, you know," he complained. "There is a city, west from Aeria, as the map indicates, in the heart of the desert. She may be from there, or so the book says."

"West from here?" Edgar wondered. "Only Tresalt is west from here. The city where the women used for procreation by the Trainers live."

"Do you think she is still there?" Cory wondered.

"That would be impossible, since you saw her in the depths of the Drena mines."

"She could be," Cory said a bit stubbornly.

"How so?" Edgar inquired, visibly puzzled.

"It's hard to explain and the book is difficult to read. It's like she can be in many places in the same time."

"Ubiquitous," Edgar commented.

"What's that?" Cory's eyebrows rose in question.

"Omnipresent, someone who is everywhere in the same time."

"Oh," Cory spoke. "Well, she is definitely not here, and not even in Drena, except the mines, and she wasn't except for that time."

"That's a good argument," Edgar praised him. "But your question is if she is still in Tresalt, right?"

"Yes, pretty much."

"That would be hard to find out. Tresalt is closed for visitors, and only suppliers get there, and leave everything at the gates, because no one should see or talk to the women."

"That's strange. Although, in Drena, it is a well known rule to never openly stare at a woman. They always had those black, long clothes that were covering them from heads to toes. I barely saw one or two, I mean, their faces. They were in a store and wanted to buy something, and they lifted the garments from their faces just a bit so they could talk freely. Their guardians told them to cover right away when they saw me standing there."

"Well, there is no other city west from here, so there is no other lead right now. I would tell you to keep on reading, but I'm afraid we should plan hiding you somehow."

~A Good Servant~

Edgar was curious about what the merchant could be talking about with so many people from Aeria. So he left Cory alone for a bit and went on a short visit to his neighbors.

"The merchant? He wanted to know if something strange happened lately, or if someone new is around," the first neighbor, a known mathematician, offered an answer. "I didn't have anything to tell him. Well, I did try to entice him with my new method on solving third degree equations, but he suddenly had to hurry someplace else. Would you like to hear about it, Edgar?"

"Maybe some other time, my friend," Edgar hurriedly bid his neighbor farewell. Cory was lucky the people in Aeria were so airheaded. 

As he went from door to door, he heard about all kinds of new stuff his friends were working on, but, apparently, nobody considered talking about Cory with the merchant. One last piece of information, though, sent shivers down his spine.

"He said the Trainers are bound to make a visit soon. I didn't know they were scheduled for verification," the last person Edgar questioned said.

It could not be a coincidence. Edgar didn't believe in coincidences. Cory was in trouble and so was he.

~A Good Servant~

"Cory, we have no more time. I know you still need to learn about the woman with the lily, but the Trainers are expected over the next days, and they have no reason to do so. I think we need to take a gamble and get you out of here."

"And go where?" Cory demanded, although he had to admit he had felt equally troubled after Edgar had gotten no message from Lucas for a while now.

"I have no idea, but ..." Edgar hurried to one of the huge drawers that made for most of his furniture and extracted an envelope from there. The paper was yellowish and the corners were turned, and Edgar looked at it, scratching his head.

"What is that?" Cory questioned. 

"Well, maybe it sounds a bit crazy, but ... since I am no master of escape plans, I think we should try this first," he showed the envelope to the former servant.

On it, a few words had been scribbled, most probably by a nervous hand that had no time to finish each letter. 

"Open in case of trouble," Cory read, not without squinting. "What's this?"

"Old Hector gave it to me. He said something strange, like to use this if I ever needed to escape the Trainers. Of course, I laughed it off, telling him why I should need that, but he looked deadly serious and added something like that a day would come and I would be much thankful for his help."

Cory shrugged. "Let's open it then," he concluded, and at Edgar's gesture of encouragement, he tore the envelope. Just a few other words were scribbled inside. "Travel west. Meet Tora."

He stared at Edgar. 

"That's it?" the scientist took the paper from his hand and looked at it. "The old man and his pranks ..." he shook his head. 

"Well, the book also speaks of going west," Cory gestured to the big book from the table. "I should probably read more. Although it looks like there's not much time."

"I won't work today. I'll call in sick, and stay here to read along with you," Edgar offered. 

Both took seats at the table and started reading. Cory rose his eyes a few times, surprised to see how fast Edgar flipped through the pages written in small, tortured letters.

"How come you read so fast?" he asked.

"Oh, some of these pages I've read before. Unfortunately, this method of fast reading doesn't allow the memory to retain much, except for short periods of time. And my mind is enhanced because I've used the sublimation machine so many times," he blushed and squirmed in his place.

"You read fast because of the machine?" Cory pondered. 

"Yes, it augments your brain, so you can process information faster. The downside is, of course, that it makes your head explode at some point."

"Can I use it?" Cory asked, a determined look on his face.

"The machine?" Edgar stared at him, confused. "Cory, I don't know, it can be dangerous ... you are not from Aeria, and there is no way of telling ..."

"Do you think I'm too stupid to use it?" Cory demanded on a tone that bore no contradiction.

"No! No, no, Cory, please, it's not like that! Lucas entrusted you to me, I really don't want to do something that could lead to your injury, or worse."

"You are still alive, as is everyone who has used it, so far, and you have used it multiple times. I only need it once, to help me before the Trainers come here."

Edgar pursed his lips in displeasure. He eventually sighed. "Alright, Cory. Let's get you there once the night falls. Maybe you should rest now, so you have the entire night to read through the books."

Cory nodded in agreement. As he rose, Edgar looked at the page he was on.

"I don't remember seeing this here," he pointed at a picture on the page. 

"It looks like your flying machine," Cory said.

"How could it be here? I only found a sketch and it was definitely not in this book. This, however, looks like ..." Edgar picked the book and dragged it towards him to see it better. "I cannot believe it ... it's like it's the spitting image of my machine."

"Really?" Cory leaned over the table and placed his hand on the page. When his hand connected with the paper, the apparatus started moving slowly. Frightened, both he and Edgar took a step back.

"What on earth ..." Edgar murmured.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?" Cory asked, slightly aware of how his hands were shaking, trying to find the table so he could hold on it.

"Never," Edgar shook his head very slowly, while his eyes remained glued to the paper. "Do it again," he urged Cory.

"Me?"

"Yes, it doesn't react when I touch it. Touch it now, Cory," Edgar regained his steadiness, the scientist in him winning over his initial surprise.

Reining in his emotion, Cory touched the paper again. The apparatus moved and this time, they looked at the moving picture in front of them. Lines representing desert dunes moved below the apparatus, and slowly, the silhouette of a city appeared in the distance. The picture stilled, and remained like that.

"Touch it again," Edgar frowned.

Cory obeyed, but this time nothing happened. 

"That is so strange," the scientist mumbled. 

"I really need to read these books," Cory sat again at the table. "I feel like I have to do it. Edgar, is it possible to use the machine now?"

"Well, it's almost lunchtime. Even scientists are taking a break to let food break down into fuel for their brains. There's almost no one on the streets. We could try then."

~A Good Servant~

The building looked damp and gloomy. Cory could barely suppress an unpleasant sensation as he touched the old stones in passing. 

"Does the machine really need to be in a place like this?" he asked, mostly rhetorically.

"Well, I guess the Trainers don't want it to be a pleasant experience for neither of us. They probably count on our disgust to come here, to suppress our emotions on our own, before ending up here. There it is, the good old lady, killer of all things nice," Edgar gestured to what looked like an iron throne, fixed with large bolts into the floor. 

Despite feeling his heart growing small, Cory stepped up and sat on the ominous chair. Edgar helped him fix what looked like an iron helmet over his head. 

"Are you ready?" Edgar asked cautiously.

"Go ahead. There's no going back now," Cory said to himself.

As Edgar pressed a switch just under Cory's hand, a feeling of dread and hopelessness invaded the blond's brain. 

Memories of Lucas flooded him, then drew away, like waves on a shore. Lucas's smile, his dark eyes, his warmth started diluting, bright colors washing away in a colorless pool, and Cory saw himself standing on the edge of this endless pool, staring down.

"No," he whispered, "I'm sorry, Lucas."

Edgar took the helmet off his head gingerly.

It was cold, so cold. Cory just grabbed at his own arms, trying hopelessly to cover the imaginary hole opened in his chest. He howled like an animal. Not even when he had gotten raped and branded, had he felt so utterly hopeless. Even during those dark hours, he had still had Lucas's memory, and that had been his light. Now, there was nothing but darkness all around. 

Slowly, he started getting back to his senses. Edgar was shaking him gently.

"I'm sorry, Cory, I should have told you ... how it feels. I guess I've grown so emotionally numb that I didn't realize what it could mean to someone who has never used it."

"Is it ... always like this?" Cory eventually gathered his wits.

Edgar just nodded. "Let's just hope it's for a good cause. We should get back home to our reading."

~A Good Servant~

They both remained silent on their way home. Cory sat without a word at the table, and his eyes started dancing over the pages, sniping important information, with incredible speed. From his side, Edgar sneaked glances. Cory could feel the man's eyes.

"Edgar, please, don't worry, I'm fine," he tried to help his friend get over the recent experience.

"It's not that. It's that ... you're fast, you're really fast."

Cory raised his eyes from the pages. "Faster than you?"

"Definitely. Faster than anyone I know. What have you found out so far?"

"The writing is very difficult to follow. There are mostly myths, but it looks like the world is bigger than we think. There are islands far from the continent, and there are all kinds of animals and birds living there. The people left them for the main continent. The book says they wanted to grab more than they could chew. The continent is mostly covered in desert, but they were helped by the woman with the lily."

"Is her name mentioned?" Edgar asked. "No matter how much I tried to find this information, I never managed to find it. It felt like going in circles all the time."

"No name. She is just The One, and nothing else is said. Variants of something like an adjective are presented, but that could not be a name. It's more like a function, rather than a name. She is said to be matr, mitera, mut, and, as far as I can understand, it's like she gave birth to the first people, the ones who wanted to go to the continent."

Edgar was looking at him in unhidden fascination. "I've went through these books, and never found this info. Or I've always forgotten it somehow. Did any picture move?"

"No, not yet."

A sudden gust of wind made the window frame hit the wall with a smash, taking both by surprise. 

"There was no sign of rain," Edgar rose quickly to close the window. 

Cory returned to his book. What he saw moving on the page made his heart stop. 

"Edgar," he whispered, "they're here."

Edgar remained still, frozen in front of the window.

"Yes, they are. And they are coming here."

He turned like an automaton towards Cory. "To the flying machine, now," he said in an even tone.

Cory fell silent and obeyed. He helped Edgar fuel the machinery and he took a seat next to the scientist. Loud noises could be heard, like someone was trying to break through a door. 

He looked up. The machine had enough cover to protect them from the heavy raindrops that started to fall. The sky was grey and menacing. Edgar's machine started rising, while making an even louder noise than the ones coming to get them and the storm in the making. 

Cory knew they were there, below them. He didn't have to look to know. But what he knew, as Edgar and he started flying west was that the Trainers, standing there, in Edgar's backyard, their grey eyes following them, came to Aeria on a single simple mission. How he knew, he had no idea; but he knew right now, with sudden clarity, that he hated them, with all his heart. 

~A Good Servant~

Dion watched John as he sat down at the table, a morose look on his face. 

"What is it, John? Hard day at work?"

It was so seldom for John to complain about work. He had always left such problems there, never willing to take them home.




A Good Servant Ch. 16



The big man fiddled with his fork.

"I'm going to change workplaces," John eventually said. 

"Alright," Dion sat next to him. "Why is this bothering you?"

John buried his head in his palms briefly. "I'll be working the mines. I am at that age, I know, but I hoped they will just let me be a little more."

"Is that really hard work?" Dion questioned. "I'll work hard, too. I'll do everything around, so you can rest," he offered.

John caressed his lover's fiery strands and smiled. But Dion felt the man's smile never reaching his eyes. 

"What are you talking about, baby? You're already doing everything," he kissed Dion's forehead briefly.

"Why are you so upset?"

John stopped for a second, like he was trying to find his words. "I'll see you less, that's all."

No, that's not all, Dion could swear. But he had to be patient to let John talk about it, in due time. He forced a smile, too, as he kissed John on the lips. 

The man grabbed him suddenly, and there were plates and food flying everywhere. Dion grabbed at John's shoulders, as his lover started kissing him desperately. Their coupling was fast, rough, but Dion was not scared. He felt his big man needed him that way, in that very moment. As John lay there, his dampened forehead resting in the crook of Dion's neck, he caressed the man's short hair. 

"Everything will be fine," he spoke softly, although he knew somehow his words sounded hollow.

~A Good Servant~

Lucas stood there, in the middle of the room, looking around. His own house felt strange, hostile. He chuckled bitterly. It had to be. It was a prison. Every step he had tried to take outside the home, he had been under close supervision for days now.

He sat at the small table in his living room. He leaned and stared at the seams in the old wood. A little thing he had brought to Drena from Aeria. It was far from being perfect, and many times, Lucas had looked at it, to find comfort in its imperfections. Now, his mind focused on a single seam and started following it. His thoughts were carefully gathered and focused, poured into the same river, following the seam. 

There was no luxurious feeling, no victory. But there were ways to use prisons, and walls could be built to keep the world outside, not only to keep one inside.

*****

Author's Note:

Thank you, guys, so much for continuing to read. It took me a while to get this done, so I hope you will like it. This time, it's a short author's note, and I'll try to send some personal notes to people who have commented on the previous chapter. Right now, it has to be hay hitting time for me. Let me know your thoughts on everything. It means a lot to me to hear from all of you.