Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/423188.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Relationship:
      Original_Male_Character/Original_Male_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, Non_Consensual, Toys, Rough_Sex, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Anal,
      S&M, Abuse, Work_In_Progress, Not_Suitable/Safe_For_Work, Original
      Character(s), Original_Universe, Oral_Sex, Gang_Rape, Slavery, Modern
      Era, Mind_Control, Past_Underage, Past_Underage_Sex, Underage_Rape/Non-
      con, On_Hiatus
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-06-04 Updated: 2015-02-15 Chapters: 20/? Words: 78311
****** Eros (Slave Life) ******
by narukyuu_(orphan_account)
Summary
     Life as a slave is hard - locked inside a tube of glass, beaten,
     raped and sold to the lowest of men with no chance of escape, he had
     come to hate the world around him, hate men and most of all - hate
     life. When a man unlike all the others buys him - will it all change,
     or will his nightmare become even worse?
     (On HIATUS. not sure if will be continued or not at this point.)
Notes
     This is a Rewritten version of a story I've already published many
     chapters of, you can read the unrewritten chapters here: http://
     original.adultfanfiction.net/story.php?no=600103512 though I'm slowly
     updating them to rewritten version as well (chapter 1 is already
     editted).
     This story is WIP, and so - many things about the plot might change
     between versions.
     I reccomend waiting for the better quality rewritten version rather
     than reading the old one, but suit yourselves. :)
***** Chapter 1 *****
"You are UGLY"
Ugly? Is that really what he'd just called me? Fingers clutching into the flesh
of my hands I slowly raised my face to meet eyes with a thick, large toady man.
And he was calling me ugly. Me, who has a slim body, a smooth skin and a young
proportionate face – ugly. I thought it was really arguable. The man whose eyes
were still on me was obviously very rich, all of those who came to this place
were. But he, as it seemed, was exceptionally so; surrounded by an entourage of
people all with their fawning smiles and offers, compared to all the others he
must have been something out of the ordinary – a politician, or some kind of
television star… ah, no no, with those looks? The best guess I could have come
with was a crooked business man. He gave me another despising look which I
returned with a frozen smile, the kind you grant someone whom you hate with
your whole heart, someone who is below you. Yes, he, the almighty toad and his
hateful comments were below me, the small ugly slave in the glass tube.
I followed the toad and his entourage with my eyes as they all turned to look
at the large glass tube next to me, containing a smaller boy than me. Once
again there was no indication that anyone would buy me - take me out of here. I
didn't really expect there to be either. Their voices, though dimmed to almost
silence through the glass were mocking me with their laughs. Telling me again
how I will stay here in the market for probably the rest of my short life.
Having to see the men slobbering all over the other boy was telling me more
than I needed to know of my chances.
I soon gave up on trying drawing any more attention from the various buyers;
instead my eyes went slowly to take in my surroundings through the glass,
searching for any clue of something new, something interesting in the vast
hall. There were a few new slaves around, young and terrified. I could spot one
who was apparently beaten and drugged so much that he could not even move his
body or maintain the required position. I felt sorry for him – this was the way
his life was going to be from now on. My eyes went over to the Market's logos
on the walls and through the men all checking out the slaves around me with
excited eyes and a sickened wave went down my spine. This place, this awful
place was not for me. I didn't belong here and I knew that, I knew that for
such a long time and yet I still spent almost half of my life here, an exhibit
to be viewed, merchandise to be bought.
The Market, the doubly legal Slave trading network. So very popular among
people such as the toady man now spreading fear through the hearts of the boys
on whom he had his eyes set upon. People of the 'high class' – the rich, the
famous, those who simply had that something about them that made them better
than others – be it money or fame or simply better connections, and at most
times – all of the above. Politicians were not a rare sight here as well, some
returning to purchase a new slave every once in a small while. So it really
wasn't surprising that this place, despite it being the most illegitimate place
in the whole world, was legalized, each purchase taxed legally by the
government.
The thing is, no one knew where the market got its slaves from, all those
little boys and girls – and the slightly older ones like me, where was it that
we came from that made it okay for us to be objectified and sold like dolls for
rich men? Surely none of us were on the yearly shipment of convicts, who
instead of having to serve their sentence in jail or executed for the terrible
things they have done found themselves bound and made to work as these high-
statues men and women's slaves, no; that wasn't it.  Maybe some of those boys
and girls were sold off by their parents for the promise of economic stability,
perhaps taken off the streets after being promised grand things as food and
shelter, kidnapped in an almost kind way after following a pleasantly smiling
man with candies and promises in his hands.   
There was not one single child in this place who had come here willingly,
knowing where it was, knowing what it is they would be made to become.
I smiled coldly to myself as I watched the man leaving the area, I was glad he
didn't like me, even if it meant I had to stay locked here in the tube for
another day I would never want to be bought by… well, anyone really, but
especially not one such as him. I shifted a bit in place – not an easy task
when you're stuck inside a narrow glass tube, forced to keep the same stiff
position for so many hours a day. Eventually I managed to free my legs from
under my thighs and leant back onto the thick transparent glass, watching my
own reflection while trying to ignore the commotion outside, people who went
past me and gave me vicious looks, which I returned with my own cold smile.
What were they going to do about it, beat me? Well, yes. At the end of the day
I could expect a very thorough beating session – one that would leave me in a
worse situation than anybody could endure, but right now it didn’t bother me
that much, it was a normal occurrence for me anyway, happening every other day
or so. I don't think there was a visible place on my skin that wasn't at least
a bit red, or had the bluish bruises decorating it and only few of those were
older than a week. The only place they normally would not touch was my face,
which they kept clean for the appeal on most costumers was mostly generated by
the first thing they saw. Most didn't care for the rest of the body as long as
there weren't any physical mutilation.
I let out a sigh and was just about to close my eyes when I noticed a man –
surprisingly not one of the Market's employees but a rather… normal looking man
compared to rest of the residency in the vast hall which mostly consisted of
the same flamboyant kind of men like the toad and the more dangerous types as
well, and he was walking right toward and looking straight at me. I stiffened a
bit, looking behind me to search for whoever it might be that he was looking
at, because it couldn't possibly be me, the thin, older, uglier ME.
When I returned to look at the tall man I found him staring right at me through
the glass, his eyes examining me from head to toe through a pair of sunglasses
– hiding the color but not their sharp shape which sent shivers up my spine.
Was he going to say something bad about me too? Did he also come over to
comment on how ugly I was?
Okay, maybe I did let that little comment bother me a bit too much.
For a little while my eyes and his were locked into one another, his face was
expressionless, and I guess mine was too because I was too nervous to really
make any commendable face whatsoever. Eventually my eyes trailed away from his,
landing on a man tailing his steps with a rather stressed face, a trader,
entrusted in guiding the costumers to their most compatible and most expensive
slaves in the room, a task he wasn't doing too well with this one, since I was
neither of those things. Through the glass I could hear only bits of their
conversation, dimmed badly, but fortunately my ability to read lips wasn't too
bad and I managed to understand most of it.
"Si-sir! I'm truly sorry but this one is not currently for sale." He mumbled
with a frightened face, his eyes seeking out the help of any senior trader who
could help him, "He is too aggressive, getting into fights a lot. You don't
want something like that." I let my eyes linger on the trader's for a few
minutes, I remembered the guy – I bit him once and since then he hated me, only
letting the most highly disturbed, perverted man to see me while taking the
'normal' ones, who were quite a rare sight here, to the more civilized part of
the market, or so he let himself think. "Let me take you to a more suitable-"
The man didn't say a thing to stop him from talking, but the looks he gave me
were saying it all. He was, for some incredulous reason, interested in me. And
the trader could see it too. He didn't like that.
"He has no self-control at all, just look at the way he sits." He grunted, "not
at the least obedient, I'm sorry to say we failed miserably at training him."
he started knocking on the glass, making it throb in an attempt to make me go
back to my former position, I wasn't keen on doing so but eventually, as my
eyes met once more with the ones behind the sunglasses I did, and if only to
prove the trader wrong in front of this person, whom for some reason felt just
safe enough for me to mildly trust in.
"It seems to me he is doing alright in that aspect." The man smiled at me, "but
not so much in others" his eyes were trailing the visible marks on my thighs
and ankles, left from a beating I received the night before for… whatever
reason. "It seems painful, I hope it wasn't you who caused such bruises, was
it?"
The trader seemed taken aback for a moment, from both my sudden behavior and
the man's question, which had found him unprepared.
"Of course not!" he shrieked, "Like I told you before, he is an aggressive one.
He started a fight with one of the bigger slaves and got what he deserved!" his
face was red with anger for a moment, and I couldn't help but giggle to myself
when I thought of what the man had in mind right about now, if he realized that
the 'bigger slave' I got into a fight with was the long metal rod the man was
carrying around on his belt with its end sharpened to cause extra pain, it
didn't seem so though, since he just stood there not commenting at all until
the trader seemed to calm down. "Ah. I'm sorry. It's just a real unfortunate
deal for us, this one. I would love to introduce you to much lovelier, younger
slaves on the other side of the room, which I'm sure you would like."
Much more expensive, too. I snickered and looked away from them as they walked
away, my mind became blank. They weren't even trying to sell me anymore, on the
contrary – it seemed they were trying to keep me stranded in the small tube
forever. I wasn't sure if I minded that or not. Actually - the fact was that I
never wanted to be sold. Not to the guy from before, not to this one. All of
them were the same in my eyes, douchebags, men whose only happiness in life was
their money and statues, whose only interest was how much their value would
rise if they had their own slaves, their own human pets to play with on the
afternoon when they are bored of counting their money. I was sold before – four
times. Each was worse than its predecessor, with each I learned there were no
good men outside, as there were no good men here on the inside. All I wanted
was to get out of here, slip out from under their clutches. Sadly – that was
not an easy task at all.
I watched their backs getting smaller and sighed again, returning to my much
more comfortable position once they were gone from my eyesight. Maybe it
would've been nice, to be bought by someone who actually seemed to think of me
as a human being. Maybe someone like that man would not lock me up, maybe
someone like that would not beat me or do horrid stuff to me, maybe…
"-put some normal cloths on him, I'll be taking him tomorrow." What? No, he
couldn't have been talking about me, could he? The voice seemed too unreal, not
there. I didn't dare opening my eyes to witness him talking of another slave. I
couldn't bare such a thing. "No more of this nonsense, please. I want him and I
wish to take him tomorrow." Who was talking? Who was taking me tomorrow? I
opened my eyes to see that man smiling to me through the glass, the trader next
to him seemed to be red with frustration and anger. "And give him medical
treatment, those wounds could get infected." The man added after a few moments,
his smile still cheerful even as the man besides him seemed to be on the verge
of bursting with anger.
"I… I will sir but…" he started, "are you really sure about this? Paying twice
the price you would have paid on that really nice girl over there, for this
guy? I'm sorry to say he is not really worth it." He gave me a hateful look and
I returned it before removing my eyes from them, retreating to my own thoughts.
He was buying me. He truly was buying me… why? No reason I could come up with
made any sense, with all the trader was saying to him about me, the things he
saw me doing or actually– not doing, why would he buy someone like me?
He turned his back to me so I couldn't hear or see the rest of their short
discussion, then walked slowly toward the exit. The trader looked at me furious
at first, but upon seeing my wondering face he smiled and got closer, close
enough for me to see the filth on his allegedly white teeth.
"I'll deal with you later." Was all he said, whispered was a more accurate
description because I couldn't hear him at all. But just the shape of his face
was making me tremble as he turned off the light illuminating my tube, for a
moment leaving me in complete darkness before turning on the big LED sign on
the tube, telling the surrounding costumers that I got sold and hiding me from
their eyes, while only slightly illuminating the inside of my tube.
I was left alone at last; free to do as I pleased for the time being, until the
tube opens again and I'll be on my way to this man's hands. A knowledge that
for some reason had me exited. I had never experienced a feeling such as this,
being bought had always made me feel terrified, but for some reason – that was
not the case now. Now I was safe, the next time this tube would open it will be
to send me to the hands of someone who might really care.
Or so I thought.
In fact, the tube opened much before that. Revealing me to the only slightly
illuminated hall, surrounded by other slaves in other tubes – all staring right
at me with their big, expressionless eyes from behind the glass of their
containers. I knew this situation – perhaps even too good, and a tremble of
fear passed through me. They were going to do this, even now? My eyes scouted
the hall in anxiety, searching for the glint of a metal rod in the darkness, a
glint I had found just a bit too late as it hit the back of my head, knocking
me down to the floor. I could see all the other slaves watching intently, their
eyes following my movements in awe. Most of them had experienced this before,
and they still had some sympathy for me in their eyes, others just stared
blankly, as if trying not to actually see what was happening. Others, namely –
those good little boys and girls who never defied their imprisoners, had a
gleeful smirk as they looked, telling me silently how I deserved it.
Pair of strong arms pulled me from my knees, making me stand on weak legs and
face the man now standing before me with his sharpened metal rod in his hand.
"Well, isn't it my favorite trouble maker…" he said, leaning in toward me. I,
never being a fan of being too close to any of the traders, turned my head
away. His smirk was making me sick. "You think you are so lucky, don't you?
That no harm can be done to you now?" he grabbed my face, pulling on my chin so
I would look right at him, his face was purple from anger when I smiled weakly
and very subtly nodded within the restriction of his hands, I liked how upset
he seemed when I did stuff such as this, what I did not like was the feeling of
cold metal slithering on my skin, so soon enough my smile was gone again.
"You can't harm me, I belong to that man now and he wanted me to get medical
attention, not more wounds." I said, trying to put the smile back on my lips,
it was not a good thing for me to do since it only pissed him off more, causing
him to slap me across the cheek but thankfully – no more than that, for now.
"I can't you say? Little insolent kid." He grumbled, grabbing on my short,
auburn hair and pulling me closer to him. "I can do so much to hurt you. You
don't even know the half of it." He paused for a moment, seemingly pleased to
see the nervousness starting to rise to my face, "But you don’t really care
about that, do you? For all you care, this time tomorrow you'll be away from
here. So you know what? I had taken it upon myself to make sure your punishment
tonight will be something you cannot forget, what if I said that I convinced
that man not to buy you?" the way he said it made me cringe. What if he did?
What if that man changed his mind? Well, if he did then they could do anything
they wanted to me as long as they didn't hurt my face, they could cripple me,
break my bones. People didn't care if their toy couldn't walk… I swallowed my
fear and looked into his eyes, I might have been taking my chances, but…
"You didn't." I said, trying to keep my voice composed and unfaltering. "You
sold me for twice my price; you wouldn’t just give that up." He smiled, his
hand slowly moving through my hair.
"You've always been a smartass." He mumbled, "You're right, of course. You're
not worth a third of what he was willing to pay for you, so that's real lucky
for you. However, as long as the transaction is not done, you are still mine to
do as I please with." my entire body was shaking as he said that, he had so
many ways to abuse me that I didn't even doubt he could cause me much pain
without even touching me. "So, while I cannot inflict any wounds on you in any
visible place, I can make you suffer. Now tell me boy, what is it that you hate
the most?"
I didn’t answer and not only because I knew he knew already, It was mostly
 because I was too busy gazing at the far side of the hall, where a long yet
wide shadow started to manifest, my shivers became a full time tremulousness.
"You can't do that; you can't… can't touch me like that." I whispered, closing
my eyes as to not to see the shadow growing bigger and bigger, not to see its
source.
"You are right again, of course. I can't. It's against regulations. But you
know who can?" I could feel his arms on my waist, wrinkling the fabric of the
short tunic I was made to wear, a tunic made for a much smaller structure and
was revealing much more than it should have. I closed my eyes, trying not to
think of what he would say next. I knew that if he wanted to he could find
someone, excuse himself from following the rules as so many traders chose to do
at so many occasions. His hands moved from my waist down to my exposed hip, the
coldness of the leather gloves on my skin had me jumping in place – attempting
to escape it. I didn’t open my eyes even as the sound of high heels hitting the
floor was sound, followed by much heavier, cruder footsteps. I didn’t want to
see who those belonged to because I knew seeing would just make it all real and
right now all I wanted was to imagine this was all just a dream.
"Mr. Roberts! I'm so glad to see you already, has the payment details been
sorted out?" the trader's voice was cheerful as he let me go, leaving me
stranded by the same pair of hands as before. My body seemed to be unable to
stay still, trembling and not just from the cold feeling of the large hands –
apparently losing patience – starting to go under my tunic, feeling my waist
and climbing up to my chest. Hot breathes at my nape made me shudder as I
watched them speaking.
"Yes, yes. Of course. I still do not believe you convinced me to buy an hour
with this vile creature, is he even any good?" I recognized the voice, the
superiority dripping from it like poison, saying words that meant only hurt and
humiliate me. I opened my eyes to see a toady face examining my own up close,
and immediately flinched away, trying to defy the hands that held me still. An
oily hand reached to grab my chin, forcing me to look straight in the small,
black eyes. "A bit old for my taste, but I guess you can't win it all with the
price you gave me."
I felt like vomiting, each and every word he said sent bits of saliva at my
face and the sight of his mouth with its too white teeth and his greasy, porous
skin had me fighting with the hands even harder, trying desperately to get away
from him.
"Well, with age comes experience, as they say." The trader said, obviously
enjoying every moment. "He had a few owners before, and of course he'd been
through a very strict training program… though with this one it hardly matters,
as you can see, he likes to play defiant."
"Oh? Ah, yes. Well, isn't that a whole lot more fun? Undress him."
I raised my head at once at the sound of that, they were going to do this HERE?
In front of everyone? Looking around I saw all of the slaves were looking at
what was happening with some short of interest, it seemed some of them had yet
to understand what was going on, a few of the youngest ones were only peeking
through their hands which they used to cover their faces in their fear. Those
ones had never seen, never experienced something like this, they were new, they
shouldn't be seeing this…
I started to spur my fight, managing to release myself from under the arms
before they could rip my cloth and crawled a few meters away before they could
get me again. When I noticed the man whom those hands belonged to – a tall,
wide man who was at least ten times bigger than me, I tried to move even
faster, not very successfully as he caught me very fast, raising me up into the
air as he ripped away the only cloth I had to protect me, I screamed at that,
bucking my legs at the air and trying desperately to get away again.
"L-let me go! I don't want to! You can't do this!!!" I shouted as I was lowered
back to the floor, restrained there by the hands which held both my hands and
kept me stranded to the floor by my shoulders. "N-no! you can't! not here! P-
please no!" my voice was filled with fear I didn’t realize I could even feel
anymore, shame I didn’t realize I had in me as my legs were spread apart, my
body exposed and defenseless.  
I could smell the sweat that dripped from the greasy skin of my soon to be
violator as he moved closer, removing his blazer and opening his pants, his
hands were moving along my body, from my thighs to my waist and from there to
my chest, one hand lingered there, touched my nipples then squeezed each of
them until he managed to get them to harden as he himself moved closer, his
body was touching mine, waves of fat under sticky skin were grinding against my
slim body as he climbed above me, grabbing on my hair as he moved in. I managed
to let out one last shriek of defiance before a slick tongue found its way
inside my mouth, exploring and trying to grab hold of my own tongue. Sloppy,
slobbery and utterly DISGUSTING. I closed my eyes tight and made a try at
biting his tongue; rip it out if I could just manage it, but before I did he
pulled out, wiping his lips with a small pink napkin.
"Oh my, he is a naughty boy isn't he?" he chuckled, then his face changed their
soft look and he grabbed at my hair again, pulling it so my head hit the floor.
"Listen now, boy. If you try to bite me again I'll have that nice man behind
you dislocate you jaw. I'm sure your new owner wouldn't mind, he'll probably
thank me." He wasn't lying, and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. I stared
at him with teary eyes, whimpering as I saw him dive in for another go.   
He nibbled on my lips for a few minutes, one of his hands went to my hip and to
my thigh, clutching on it strongly as he made me open my legs further by
shoving his own knee between my thighs. His body was grinding against mine
mercilessly, and he was heavy enough for me to fear for my ability to breathe
if he continued any further. I was so grossed out by the idea of him touching
me, laying on top of me, disgusted by the taste of him in my mouth, his greasy
hands touching me all over, I could puke right there. Eventually his tongue
started slithering away from my mouth, down my chin and neck, lingering just a
moment at my collar bone before continuing to advance down my chest.
I spent the next few minutes crying quietly, my hands were free now as the man
who held me was apparently not necessary anymore in their eyes, and so I used
them to cover my eyes and face so I wouldn't be able to see the people in the
room or have them witness my weakness, I was not a little kid, I have endured
worse than this before and yet I couldn't stop crying and begging silently for
him to stop, to leave me alone, couldn't stop wishing him not to shove himself
inside me, as he of course eventually would.
"Turn him; I want him on his hands and knees." He said as he got up, cleaning
his face with the same little satin cloth which color was no longer pink for a
long time now, covered with stains of sweat and his own saliva, I didn't bother
to hide my disgust and cussed hatefully as the large man got me to get up, I
didn’t let him do so without a fight of course, trying to scratch and bite the
hands that held me, his response was a quick yet painful hit to my side that
left me breathless as he got me in the required position, and soon I found
myself begging once more for all of this to just stop as he held me that way,
not letting me collapse as I wished.
One would think that after seven years in this place I would've grown
accustomed to the pain and humiliation of being held in place like an animal
being prepared for slaughter, or in my case – ready for whatever they decide
should be put inside me, be it sexual toys of variable sizes… depending on how
much pain is supposed to be involved, fingers only sometimes covered in cold
lotions, tongues every once in a while and almost always – a throbbing cock or
at times more than just one. One would think it was a normal thing for me,
familiar, something I wouldn't mind so much after so many times. Some of the
other slaves felt that way – some even found a way to enjoy it. But not I, for
me each time was like a first time, each time hurt more than the one before it.
I don't know if the pain was even physical anymore or if it was just some part
of my brain telling me over and over again that this was hurtful. I refused to
let myself forget it, because if I did I was certain I would lose myself, I
would lose my will to fight. As long as I felt pain I knew I was still a part
of my body and that was the only thing they couldn’t rob of me. I despised sex,
despised anything related to it and everyone who enjoyed it. For me sex was the
most horrible thing in the world. The traders knew and they made sure to use
that against me in every way they could, just like what was happening right
now.
By the time he was done I was too tired to even try to scream anymore,
somewhere near the beginning they grew tired of my voice and the large man's
fingers were filling my mouth since then, muffling my attempted screams and
begs, and if I tried to bite down on them he'd just pushed them so deep in my
throat so that I would be barely able to draw in air, and only gag desperately
for breath.
Those men had no mercy in their vocabulary; they laughed when I was in pain,
cheered when I fought for my dignity then punished me in the worst ways
possible.
"Are you sure he is not for sale?" the panting, tired voice of the man reached
my ears dimmed and sickly happy, I hated it, the fake sweetness he tried to
impart on himself as he wiped his mouth and other parts of his body with a soft
towel the trader brought him, while I was tossed like a piece of meat on the
floor, dirtied with grime and semen and even a bit of blood… they didn't care,
I never imagined they would.
"No, he was purchased today actually." The trader had a smile on his face as he
gave me a short glance; it grew bigger when he saw that I'd been glaring at
them from the spot I dragged myself to, where the dim light could not reach.
"That's too bad, he is a rather good fuck, and with a few adjustments I could
have made him beautiful." He said, coming closer toward me while I moved back,
"grow his hair, change his eye color - I do believe green would suit him
better, a bit of surgery here and there…" he was smirking when I looked at him
in fright and shivered, both from the cold and the idea of him touching me
again, and especially in the manner he had been speaking of.
"I wouldn't worry about that, Mr. Roberts." The trader said, "This one tends to
return to our stocks after a few months each time he is bought, people just
don't seem to be able to keep him disciplined and he gets returned right back
here. I'll call you once that happens. Of course in the meanwhile I'll be happy
to introduce to you a few of our nicer slaves, since this one needs his rest
for tomorrow." He smiled pleasantly toward me as he accompanied the man toward
the exit, followed by the larger man who gave me a short glance of prurience
before exiting the room, leaving it completely dark and me – completely and
utterly shattered me – alone.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Wow this took a long time for some reason x_x
     hope you enjoy it~ <3
See the end of the chapter for more notes
My body felt sore as I carefully crawled along the cold floor, it was a wonder
I was even able to move at all after all that happened and the thought had me
grimacing. I could hear the slaves around me in their tubes, some were crying,
sobbing quietly for the sight they were forced to watch. Others were… well…
when I raised my head sharply to catch the eyes of one of the older slaves, the
ex-convicts and some of the youths, the more experienced ones – they were
groaning, salivating with their faces stuck against the glass and their hands
hidden under dirty old tunics. I cursed, moving my eyes away from their
figures. The sight was more than disgusting for me to watch. They were enjoying
this, no, rather – they were relishing on my pain, and they found everything
that I've just gone through so pleasuring to watch that they would even do
that.
"Fuck you…" I whispered, "Fuck all of you, fuck fuck FUCK!!!" I think my
screams has left some of the younger ones in shock, while the older ones just
laughed at my misery as I collected my discarded, torn cloth from the floor and
got up, wiping tears and other grime from my face while trying to hide my
exposed body from their probing eyes.
My legs were shaking badly by the time I managed to reach my open tube, and
collapsed under me just as I was ready to start climbing back inside. I wasn't
going to try and escape, I had enough failed tries in my records to tell me
that I was in no shape to even get to the door – which was probably locked
anyway, not to mention find the main exit and run out, pass the guards unharmed
and reach any safe point in the city, no. when in my state the only thing that
I could do, and even that was becoming doubtful in my mind – was climb onto the
stand and go to sleep where I was meant to, escaping this place… that was
happening tomorrow anyway.
Weary, I tried to cling onto the suddenly very high stand, it was somewhat
irrational but I preferred to sleep on it than on the cold floor, it's not that
it was warmer or softer on anything like that, it's not that it made me any
safer from the stares that I was about to be receiving all night long – I guess
I just didn't want to let them think, for even one minute, that they subdued me
or that I just gave up and let myself sleep on the floor like some kind of
animal because of my inability to climb back inside. "Fu-fuck…" I whimpered,
trying to pull myself up from the floor unsuccessfully. It was really starting
to get to me and I could feel tears falling down the same trails left by their
prior, my legs completely refused to work now and I was on the verge of
screaming, my head bursting with ache and tiredness, and besides it the need to
show them I could still defy them, in any way.
Just… not tonight.
 
I woke up surrounded by warmth, silky, soft and plushy feeling fabrics were
caressing my damaged skin, nursing it as I groaned silently, refusing to open
my eyes and find myself back inside a lit, naked tube. I wanted this dream like
feeling to stay, those sensations to never cease from existence. And somehow I
knew that if I ever awoke, opened my eyes – then they will.
"Open your damn eyes kid, I know you're awake." A cold feeling spread up my
spine, contradicting all other feelings so badly that a shudder attacked me
while I opened my eyes to first encounter a frilly, plushy pillow then, as I
raised my head – the same large man who had the job of holding me the night
before. He was wearing trader uniforms now, holding the sharpened rod in his
hand, which he waved in front of my face when I didn't get up to look at him.
"Shit, a rotten slave like you should not be getting this kind of room." He
said, sending a despising look at me as I carefully sat up, my eyes still
adjusting themselves to the light and color that surrounded me, it was harder
than it should have been, and not only because my whole body was screaming in
pain and my head throbbing violently, but also because I was just not used to
such brightness. The room I was in right now, as I understood fully only after
waking up completely and taking a quick look around was not the same vast hall
where the slaves were sold, neither was it the usual preparation room for 'sold
items' where they let most clients take the first taste of the slave they
chose, and performed all the required medical inspections. In fact, the room I
was in now was the complete opposite of those rooms, or any other room I saw
while staying in the market. It was lit brightly, colored with calming blue
colors and decorated simply. It was a room so nice, it made me queasy. The man
who was buying me – just how rich was he?
A loud thud awakened me from my thoughts, a result of the large man sitting on
the bed next to me and dropping the metal rod close enough to make me squirm a
bit as I looked at him.
"Your new owner is going to be here soon" he said in a deep voiced groan,
getting closer. "He's some kind of a 'special case', so you listen closely now,
yes? You have to do everything I tell you to very accurately, or we are going
to make your new life hell. Is that understood?" he was coming closer to me,
and since there was nothing much I could do in my state of completely damaged
motor abilities that did not allow me to just get away from him as I wanted,
all I could really do was nod stiffly. "First of all, you'll call him 'sir',
even if he tells you his first name. you can call him 'master' if you prefer
that. Second - he requested for you to be medically treated, and you were, to
some limit. We don't want him to know of anything that had happened to you
here, so you be a good boy and make sure not to show him you're in any kind of
pain, especially if he asks you about it. Stay in the character you've been
given – for all he knows all those wounds are from fights you were involved in,
so that's what you're going to tell him if he asks. Is that all clear?" I
stayed quiet, only giving a small nod with my eyes closed, wondering to myself
how exactly I was supposed to do that, I could barely move, it wasn't such a
small ache I could lock inside me and not show, all I could hope for was for
the man to be daft enough not to notice it… I was given a small container with
a light brown substance and looked at it daftly before the man ordered me
angrily to open it as he pulled the kilt I was covered with to reveal my naked
body, which I hurried to conceal again, staring at him silently. 
"Don't act so pure, it's not befitting a slut like you." the man grunted.
"Start covering your scars and the bigger bruises. And do it thoroughly, we
don’t want him to have any complaints." He stared at me as I finally complied
to his will, starting to apply the oily substance onto the scars and bruises.
It seemed to blend perfectly with my skin tone, covering the oddities in my
skin and making them almost invisible. "Turn over" he finally said, giving me a
sour look when I didn't do a thing. Those words were giving me bad vibes, too
familiar to words said to me by various people before. "Don't look at me like
an idiot, turn over and I'll do your back." He gritted his teeth when I stayed
still for a few more minutes, just to get on his nerves since I knew he
wouldn’t hit me minutes before my new owner came into the room, but the look he
gave me had me change my mind fast enough, getting me to turn over on my
stomach and tuck my head between the pillows while he started to smear the
makeup over the wounds, he made no try to be gentle and with each one of his
touches I cried out with pain, especially when his hand travelled farther down
my back.
"Oh, stop that. You've been through worse." He said, pressing down on a bruise
on my ass cheek. "You are such a little slut, aren't you? I bet you loved what
happened yesterday night. You just wait for you owner to come through this door
and-" both his words and his starting to be very bothering touches stopped at
once when a knock on the door was heard, he also got up really quick, leaving
me laying there naked as he went over to the door, welcoming the man from the
day before inside with a toady smile and a few courteous words, allowing me to
quickly raise and pull the kilt over myself before he entered and saw me.
I quickly wiped stray tears from my eyes and sat up, looking straight to where
my new owner was standing, looking at me with a smile on his pleasant looking
face, he went by the large man without letting him finish the sentence he
started, hurrying to come and sit on the bed by my legs. The first thing I
noticed about him was that he had gray eyes which I had not seen the day
before. Very sharp yet very soft too. He was looking at me intently, and even
while I was feeling so very exposed it didn't bother me in front of him as it
did in front of any other man.
"Well… hello there." he said, the smile never leaving his lips though he did
seem a bit bothered about something, couldn't possibly be because of me, could
it? He didn't give the trader who walked closer to us any attention; his eyes
remained locked with mine. When I didn't give an answer however he did turn to
the man with wondering eyes. "He seems to be frightened for some reason?" he
said, squinting his eyes in suspicion when the trader shot a threatening glare
my way, awakening me from my shocked state.
"I- I'm not scared." I whispered, "Sir." I added when the trader shot another
look at me, making a shudder run down my spine. A shudder my new owner seemed
to notice. He gave me an encouraging smile and then looked back at the trader,
his eyes fiery with something that while was not really anger, was not really
kind either.
"I'm sorry, but do you mind giving us a few minutes alone? You seem to be
pressuring him and I want to get to know him a bit better, you know?" his hand
moved from the mattress to my covered thigh, squeezing on it in a way I was
sure was supposed to be reassuring, but only made me cringe and move away from
him and closer to the wall behind me. The trader nodded and turned, I could
notice his smirk growing when the man talked about 'getting to know me better'
and the moment he left I pulled my leg away from under the strong hand on it
and torn my eyes away from the man. This seemed to unnerve him and he came
closer to me, trying to get me to look back at him.
"He is not listening, you can say what you want now." He said with the same
smile, I in response stayed still and silent, I had nothing I wished to say to
this person, I couldn't trust him not to flip on me the moment I opened my
mouth, just leaving it shut would be best for now. Also – I was sure that if I
did such a stupid thing as speak my body will would give in and I'll have to
scream from the pain my whole body had been suffering. No, this was safer.
He sighed again, and his hand moved from beside my thigh to a small pouch bag
he had strapped to his belt, starting to lazily probe inside it in search of
something which when found brought a big smile to his face.
"I understand that you don't want to talk to me just yet, and that's okay. I
understand." He said, his hand leaving the bag clenched around a thing I could
not see. "But would you at least accept this modest gift from me?" his smile
widened when he took my hand, which I tried to pull away immediately with not
much success, and shoved that thing into my palm, holding it closed for a few
seconds before letting me observe what it was.
Aluminum wrapping rustled under my fingers as I found myself looking at a
square shaped chocolate-milk candy, one of the kinds that had small chunks of
nuts in it and looked so very delicious as it sat unwrapped on the palm of my
hand. I also knew it was expensive, very expensive. Not something anyone would
give to their slaves, not even those who were particularly good slaves,
especially not on the first meeting.
"It's really great; I could eat a whole bag of those. Try it." He encouraged
and I stared at him dumbfounded, I was pretty sure he couldn't have been
serious about this, perhaps he was testing me, checking if I knew my place, if
I knew that a slave like me should never allow himself to be pampered. But when
I looked to find any sign of the lie on his face all I could see was sincerity,
he was waiting for me to eat, looking at me in a rather pleased way when I
finally dared to bring the square to my lips. The aroma was simply
intoxicating, and when I finally dared to take a bite the taste was… it tasted
so good that I couldn't be bothered with anything anymore as I devoured the
rest almost whole, letting myself go as far as lick the melted remains from my
fingers with what I knew was a very pleasured face, heck, I might have even
blushed when the chocolate reached each and every one of my taste buds, and
that knowledge left me very unhappy at the end of it all.
When I realized how I had been acting, sucking on my fingers like an overjoyed
child instead of keeping the same unresponsive image as before I quickly closed
my eyes and flinched when I felt his warm hand on the skin of my face, the
sudden movement throwing me off balance and off the bed, which had left me only
barely wrapped in sheets that had thankfully still covered me from his eyes.
"D-don't hit me!" my voice left me lips before I intended it to, leaving my new
owner with a puzzled expression when he got off the bed and next to me,
kneeling by my side while I covered my face with my arm and faced away from
him, his hand once again made its way to touch my skin, this time it was my
shoulder just before climbing to my neck and then back to my face, gently
removing my arm and making me face him. I did not like his look – that overly
worried look, exaggerated much.
I pulled my arm away from him and moved away, releasing my body from the
tangled sheets which kept me almost stranded to the floor as I carefully
climbed back to the bed, pulling them so I wouldn't reveal anything that was
not supposed to be revealed to him.
His face changed to a smiling one once again as he got up. "You're a shy one,
aren't you?" he said, and basically affirming his words I turned my head away
from him, not really wanting to listen to him talk. "I'd like to say that I
don’t mind if you don't want to talk… but that isn't really true. If I'm going
to trust you enough to let you into my house I need to know you'll be able to
communicate with me, verbally, so…" He once again got another bit closer and I
in return retreated to the other end of the bed, which caused him to sigh very
deeply. "Come on, just a few words? Like… well, how good was that chocolate,
huh? Wasn't it just great?!"
Why was he so desperate to hear me talk? I swallowed an annoyed sigh. "…it was
nice." My voice sounded weak and distrustful in my own ears, so I had no need
to wonder how he heard it. I shouldn't have minded really, he was just another
rich asshole, making me his property and not bothering to ask me how I felt
about it, not even once – not that I would ever get any saying in a matter like
that. It shouldn't have mattered, and yet it did and that stung me very deeply
as he once again spoke to me, his gray eyes looking over my face like a pair of
diamonds, sparkling with excited emotion.
"I knew you'd like it! Ah, and that wasn't so hard, right? I mean talking to me
of course." He chuckled when my face flushed red; he was making fun of me?! I
turned my face away from him, closing my eyes. I was furious. Mostly at myself
though – if he felt like he needed to laugh at me for whatever reason, then it
was, in fact, his right. I could do nothing but hope to do nothing that'll give
him such a pleasure. But being myself, I was not going to take it quietly and
just let myself get embarrassed like this, no way.
"The fifth." I muttered, hell knows why I was doing this. Maybe it was that
stupid smile on his face I just wanted to make gone. "You are the fifth rich
idiot who bought me. Do you really think I will be talkative and trust you just
because you gave me chocolate and smiled at me? I know what people like you are
like."
He didn't seem to be faltered by what I said, rather – he smiled again, a
little more subtly now if compared to the big grin he had smeared on his face
just a moment ago. "People like me? May I inquire of how you know what type of
'people' I am?"
I kept silent for a few minutes, I actually had the perfect answer to that, but
let him think that I needed time for it. I smirked before opening my mouth
again, getting the reaction I wanted as he stared at me wondering what I could
say. "you, and any other person who comes to this place – you're all selfish."
I said, lowering my head again. "all you care about, in the end, is yourself.
Whatever you might need me for would result in your profit, your… your pleasure
or your own good feeling. You might think what you're doing is good, that it'll
do me good in the long term but that is just a lie you convinced yourself is
true, and are trying to sell to me by acting nice and… and giving out candies."
I took a deep breath and raised my eyes to look at him, he seemed to be in the
same mood as before, with the same relaxed smile residing on his face as he
scanned me from head to toe, as if trying to assess what would be the best
answer.
"I see... Well actually I don't." He paused, and I raised my eyes to look at
him, finding him still smiling at me. "We've only just met. I get that you had
some bad experiences before… and I can't deny that I have an ulterior motive
for buying you – anyone who pays for something expect for something in return,
and I don't ask for anything too bad, at least I think it's not too bad."
Another pause, he leaned toward me and I stayed still as I waited for him to
continue, I should have known it would come to this eventually, that he would
sooner or later demonstrate exactly what it was he required from me as a return
for his money. I flinched when his hand moved toward me – but instead of what I
was expecting – would it be a stroke over my waist, thigh or a more intimate
place, perhaps a pull to get me into a better position for him, instead of that
the hand came to my head and disheveled my hair roughly, making me raise my
head almost immediately in amazement. What was he doing?
"I really don't think it'll be bad for you at my place, but… if you prefer to
stay here, I'll just ask them to let me see someone else…"
"NO!" my voice surprised even me and I found myself staring right into the
man's eyes with much fright in my own. "I… I mean… I'm sorry…" I let my sight
wonder to the other side of the room, "P-please don't. I don't want to stay
here."
His hand still stroked my hair; his smile was a bit bigger now that he heard
the sheer desperation in my voice. "Even if it means coming home with a selfish
man like me?" he whispered softly, and I nodded. Honestly – it didn't matter
who it was that took me, be it him or any other – I was being saved from this
place, but that didn't mean I had to like my savior.
Though… and I would never had told him that – he didn't seem to be a bad guy,
and deep, deep within I was glad that he was the one who chose me.
He got up from the bed slowly, encouragingly smiling at me before leaving my
side for the door. He left the room for a few minutes in which I breathed in
sharply in a futile try to relax myself. I was getting out, I was leaving this
place and this time it might actually be for good… from what I'd seen so far he
seemed to be a better person from the rest of them, I couldn't trust him yet, I
probably never will. But for now he was my best option, and not such a bad
option at that.
"Okay then, so all I have to do now is sign the contracts and we can go,
right?" his cheerful voice had me raise my head again and see him and the
trader from before walking back into the room, the trader's hand filled with a
stack of papers and a small bag. He nodded and handed the man the papers and a
fancy golden pen, throwing a dirty look at me.
"We do have a few things we should go over before you sign, of course." He then
said, walking toward me. I retreated as fast as my body would permit when he
sent his hand to grab my wrist, but since it was not much he managed to pull me
to my feet with not much problem, forcing me to stand butt-naked and humiliated
in front of my soon-to-be owner who seemed curious more than anything. I
remained still while a hand cuffed my chin and cheeks and forced my head into a
position that made the short bangs on my forehead fall back and reveal a small,
red diamond shaped stone, implanted strongly and symmetrically just between and
above my eyebrows with only a small line of old, burnt skin around it to
clarify that it was, in fact, embedded into my skin and not just glued there,
as some incredibly daft men could and actually had thought before.
"Ah- I've seen it on other slaves too. What is that?" I could feel his fingers
as they traced along the sharp edges of the stone, over my skin and onto the
stone again while I kept myself from biting my lips or close my eyes. Couldn't
he see that he was hurting me?
"This," the trader started, his voice dramatic as can be as he pulled my head
again to give a better sight on the stone, and the metal wires attached to it
from both sides. "This is the latest technology in means of recognition and
controlling your slave. A really special piece of technology – it contains all
of the information you can ask for, general information, genetics, it can go as
far as tell you the exact shade of his eyes, skin and hair, and much more. It
also contains his name – if you choose to give him one – your name and address
in case he… gets lost… will also be integrated by your request." Finally, he
let me go. I hurried to run away from him and back onto the bed, covering my
intimate parts, they both didn't seem to care much about what I was doing, they
were just discussing the contract now which gave me some hope. Maybe, just
maybe he wouldn't show him the other feature, maybe my new life will be better
after all.
A tingling feeling down my spine soon told me that was not about to be
happening. I raised my eyes just in time to see him handing two cellphone sized
twin devices to the man, who stared at them with awe in his eyes.
"Does it hurt him?" he asked, eyeing me with interest. "if it does, I would
really rather not use it at all." His eyes returned to the trader who chuckled
and shook his head.
"It doesn't do anything that hurts more than a needle stab. And as long as he's
obedient it wouldn't hurt him at all. You can command him from anywhere in the
world and he'll know what you want him to do; it's very handy for someone who
travels a lot. You can give the extra device to whomever you wish."
I averted my eyes from them, before I thought he might actually show him, and
now that I understood that was probably not going to happen my stress levels
have gone down greatly. I was a few minutes away from getting out of there, but
they seemed to only keep talking and talking… he asked questions and the trader
answered, both completely oblivious to me. If I wanted I could probably just
get up and leave, and they both wouldn't notice…
"Can you give him something to wear while I sign? I am not going to take him
home naked, after all." the cheerfulness in his voice almost made me squirm, he
was so happy all the time, wasn't he? It was annoying. The trader mumbled
something in return and came by me, once again pulling me to my legs with not
much diligence. He pulled my toward a small door in the other side of the room
and pushed me inside, coming in after me he closed the door, standing above me
with something I couldn't understand in his expression.
The room was almost completely empty, with only a big closet and a bench on one
side of it, on which I was instructed to sit while he opened the closet,
starting to probe into it without paying me much more attention.
"…So I take it he didn't 'have' you?" he finally snickered, "what, does he
prefer to do it at home? The room was not good enough?" he thrown a white, new
tunic in my direction even though there no doubly some normal clothes inside
that closet.
"…He won't do that with me." I answered, and while he once again laughed at my
words, I somehow knew that was true. That man didn't want me in a sexual way,
if he did he wouldn't have waited, and even if he did… something in me wanted
to think that he would tell me, that he wouldn't let me submit myself to such a
thing without knowing. At least – that's what I chose to believe. I put on the
tunic, blushing heavily when I discovered it wasn't at all long enough to cover
anything at all, it was probably meant for someone half my size and looking up
at the large man before me I knew this was the best I was going to get, in fact
he found it so funny that he wouldn't even bother covering the fact that he was
smirking as we got out of the room.
"I'm sorry, sir." He said, no shame at all in his voice when he addressed my
new master "This was the only thing left for him to wear, must have gotten his
sizes wrong." He pushed me forward a bit so the man could examine me closely,
making sure to get a small pat on my ass-cheeks all the while. I couldn't hate
someone more than I did him at that moment.
"Ah… I understand. That's alright. You have a store here for stuff like that
right?" okay, I could hate someone more. The blush on my face was spreading and
I pouted as my new owner got up from his chair and handed the signed documents
over to the trader, stretching his arms while checking out my half exposed
body.   
It didn't seem to bother him at all, rather – he seemed to like what he saw,
since his smile never wavered – only got bigger.
"Yes, of course. And I'm sure you will love the rest of our merchandise as
well."
 
All I could think while being led, the strong confident hand of my owner on my
shoulder, toward the 'Market's store' which was by definition, the most
perverted, sick sex shop in current existent, was how I hated him. How I
detested him for not noticing how exposed I felt, how humiliated I was. He
acted as if this was all a normal thing and I just couldn't stand it. I was
made to wear worse clothes in front of larger audiences before, at times I
would be punished by not being given any clothes to wear at all and none of
those times had hurt me as now. Could it be that he wasn't the merciful person
I thought him to be? Could he have been one of those who simply enjoyed causing
humiliation? His hand clenched my shoulder tightly when we finally were at the
entrance to the store, where he stopped walking.
"Um, I forgot to ask earlier… how old are you?" he suddenly said, looking at me
with interest. "…Seventeen." He could just get that information from the
documents couldn't he? I kept my head down as we stopped right next to the
entrance, and found myself being stared at by the man, intensely.
"Really? I… wow, I thought you were younger." He said and scratched his chin,
"I was thinking about leaving you out to wait for me since you didn't seem to
be the right age to come in a place like that…"
"I would actually prefer that." I hurried to cut him, if that meant I didn't
have to go in that place half naked, than that was it for me. I looked at him
pleadingly, wishing he would do it, just leave me outside to wait for him.
He chuckled and patted my head gently, "but wouldn't that just be a bother? I
mean… if you come in with me we could find clothes for you faster since I don't
know your measurements and would just make a mess, also, my girlfriend always
says I have the worst taste in clothes. You will be better off choosing for
yourself." He had a point, actually. The faster I get clothes the faster I
could get dressed, and if he bought wrong sized ones it would eventually mean
having to stay this way until he found fitting clothes. But…
"I… I don't like it…" I heard myself whisper, "It's sick, this place…" I might
have sounded like an obnoxious little boy right there, but really – who cares.
I couldn't bear the sight of people going in that place with their newly
acquired slaves all of whom younger than me by at least a year or two… if I
went in there I would have to see what those people were buying, what would be
used on those who shared my miserable fate, and I didn't want that.
"What's sick? Sex? Did you ever even do it that you say that? Being locked up
in there and all." He said with a snort, opening the door. "Come on, it's not
that bad, the sooner you come in the sooner it's over and done with."
I gave him a furious look, most certainly not about to answer that question.
Did I ever have sex? How did he even dare ask me that? wasn't it a known thing
that we were… all the slaves were… I turned my face away from him and couldn't
help but wonder if he really didn't know, if that confused masquerade he was
assuming now as we were entering the pink, detestable room was actually
genuine. Could anyone really not know?
The room, or actually – the hall, was indeed pink. In fact that was an
understatement. It was the pinkest, most disturbing place I'd ever been in and
it had everything in it from porn magazines, DVD's and tapes scattered around
on stands, erotic novels… then in another section of the room were a couple of
lubricant types all organized neatly just beside the shelves upon shelves of
dildos and vibrators organized and categorized by size, color and functionality
and from which I hurried to look away in disgust, desperately trying to find
the section where the clothes where while he was checking his surroundings with
such amazement in his eyes, I could've thought he actually was going to buy
some of those stuff. I coughed silently to distract his mind from the clearly
feminine plastic figure dressed in… well, practically nothing but a couple of
fabric pieces brought together with a thin string and revealing more than I,
for one, would ever want to see.  
"Ahem." I fake-coughed again when I noticed my first attempt did not go as
planned. "I'm not wearing that, if that's what you were thinking." I mumbled as
I turned away from him. I could actually hear him smirking when he followed
after me.
"Are you sure? You have such a nice figure, it would look great on you." he
joked, clearly amused. "I really was just wondering if my girlfriend would kill
me if I got it for her." He then added, coming toward me. "Let's go get some
clothes on you, hmm?" once again his hand found its way to my hair, but to that
I gave no attention. He said he had a girlfriend… so what did he need me for?
Thoughts kept running through my head so much that I didn't notice when he
stopped walking yet again, distracted from me by a pile of collars of several
colors and sizes resting casually on a shelf next to one of the trader's posts
that were scattered around the room, the trader assigned to it was eyeing him
with an almost pleasured look as he picked up one of the collars and turned
towards me, smiling.
"Another thing to have your girlfriend murders you for?" I asked with a bad
feeling in my chest, the collar he had in hand – a bright pink one, was
according to a big sign attached to the shelf, of a kind that fitted itself
precisely to the human neck, made only with the best materials and only
removable by biometric identification – a finger print. It was, and I had no
doubt about that, not for his girlfriend.
"Oh, I think it'll just look adorable on you, actually." He said, picking up
another collar, this time a blue one. "Look, this one seems to go really nicely
with your eyes. Which one do you prefer?"
I grunted, feeling rage growing in my chest. He wasn't seriously asking me
that, he couldn't possibly think I would let him put one of those on my neck
like some kind of… dog, a pet. I was not his pet. "None. Can we please go?" I
asked, passing weight from one leg to another with the clear purpose of showing
him how uncomfortable I was.
Only he didn't seem to care, he started digging through the various collars
with eyes full of excitement, and ignoring me completely when I again asked him
if we can go, he started comparing between them, looking at me every few
minutes.
Couldn't he see how upset I was? I pouted, turning my back to him. "I am not
going to wear any of them…" I muttered, only giving him half a look to discover
that he was not listening to me at all, he was comparing between two collars
again, only now with the generous help of a trader who gave me a warning look
not to ruin his sale. He was now offering the man a different collar, black and
thin compared to the rest, with a single, round and red stone that gleamed
faintly stuck in its front, it was almost mesmerizing to look at, and for
whatever reason – it frightened me. I didn't like the idea of wearing it even
one bit but I also knew that I had no choice, no part in the decision. I walked
closer to them to listen in on the list of features the trader was spilling to
my owner, managing to convince him a bit by bit that this was what he was
looking for all of his life, and that it would fit me just perfectly.
"The stone – it's a pretty little thing isn't it? Well, beside it being a very
beautiful ornament it also functions as a nametag for your slave over there,
much like the controller it contains basic information about him in case you
wish to make the controller private, it also contains a special mechanism in
case he escapes or gets lost, very effective. If you'd like we can see how it
looks on his neck right now…"
I hurried to shake my head when they looked toward me, the hopeful look on my
master's face was not gone though as he came toward me with the collar in hand
and leaned toward me, one hand on my shoulder. "Come on, we'll just see how it
looks okay?" he said, his words attempting to be reassuring, his tone making it
clear that I had no say in the matter. I nodded silently, averting my eyes from
him as he closed the leather around my neck.
"You will take it off if I don't--?" my voice was weak, not enough to seize his
attention when he looked at me with the collar perfectly fitted around my neck,
he seemed excited and satisfied, perfectly happy with what he saw. He cut my
line of speaking by quickly turning to the trader and affirming that he will
indeed purchase the accessory, and from then on didn't spare me any more
attention.
The trader had a smile so big on his face while leading us to his post, his
eyes traveling back and forth between me and my master; he was delighted to see
me this helpless, with no choice in anything at all.
"Have you decided if you're going to name him or just keep his serial number?"
he asked cheerfully, starting to type on his computer's keyboard with his eyes
still on me, soon to be joined by my master's.
"Actually, I didn't even think about that." he said, coming closer to me. "I
didn't even tell you my name or asked for yours, I am really sorry." I raised
my head to him wondering why he would be apologizing. I didn't know most of my
former masters' names, and as for my own name…
"I have no name, just a number." I muttered at him, if I once had a name… well,
then it was buried deep within my consciousness and long ago forgotten. The
fact that he even bothered to ask disturbed me though, the whole process of him
buying me was dubious – like he didn't even know how one should treat a slave
and obviously the traders saw it too – therefor the whole secrecy thing about
the way I had been treated before.
"Oh, I guess that would make things a bit tougher, then." He smiled, "we would
need to come up with a name… but before that – my name is Jack. I'm sorry I
haven't said it earlier, completely forgot about it."
"Jack…" I repeated slowly, such a simple name… well, not that I had expected
something else. It fitted him really, a simple name to go with a simple
looking, simple acting man. I found myself staring at him for a few moments,
realizing his features as if for the first time. The thin head, sharp, almond
grey eyes and a thin yet crooked nose. The smile that almost never seems to
disappear hoisted on his lips victoriously.
"Yep, that's my name. and what name should we choose for you. hmm…" he turned
to the trader without awaiting my answer – not that I had one. None of my
owners ever named me, and the traders were the only ones who called me by my
serial number and even that was a dwindling thing. I was more known as 'slut',
'whore' or the more simple 'You' or 'Boy', even to myself I was only those and
nothing else, not to mention that I knew no decent names, as no one ever spoke
of them near me.
I watched silently as my owner said something I could not hear to the trader,
who only nodded – though he seemed a bit startled – and typed something down.
And then he was done, and suddenly I knew. I knew the name he had given me as
it was injected directly into my consciousness, driven inside by the
controller. It was weird, but not uncomfortable as so many other things were.
Just weird.
I stood silently and watched as Jack made the payment for the collar, speaking
cheerfully with the trader who only answered him shortly every few minutes.
"What is that name?" I asked, raising my head only slightly when he came to my
side and eagerly encouraged me to start walking, talking nonstop of clothes and
how he'd like to get out of there and show me my new home. He stopped when I
spoke though, the smile on his face widening.
"It's nice isn't it? A name of a god. I thought it would fit you since you seem
to be so loving, practically shooting arrows of love in every direction." I
tried to convince myself he was sarcastic, or at least joking… I couldn't
decide. A name of a god he said – god of love, lust and sexuality. Could it
really be a joke about my poor personality?
"It's just weird." I said, not sure if he heard me as he said nothing in return
and only pat my shoulder slightly before heading further into the store,
leaving me to follow him in my own pace.
I could not tell him this, not now or ever. Even if it was just a cruel joke –
and maybe an innocent one – even then the thought of having a name made me
happy.
I liked the name he'd given me. MY name.
Eros.
Chapter End Notes
     I can't decide if I want Jack to be a douchbag or not. he sort of is,
     but he doesn't mean anyone any harm. he is really just clueless.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Ah, so here is chapter three. it was so hard for me to write, too
     many good things are happening to Eros.
     *sigh*
     hope you enjoy it.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"No. No way!" my shout bounced back to me loud and clear, bouncing from the
walls of the stall I stood in, looking in absolute horror at the obscenities
Jack, apparently seeing them as valid choices of clothing, passed me through
the thin crack I let the door open to in my unwillingness to let him or any
other see me naked – even if he saw it before.
The clothes… no, the pieces of fabric that looked like but under no
circumstances could ever be called clothes Jack chosen for me were not only
hideous as a piece of fabric could be, they were also embarrassingly feminine.
A frilly and laced shirt that was basically shaped for a feminine figure, as
were the pants he gave me, each and every one of them.
They sat well on my body; I couldn't deny that when I looked in the mirror with
a bit of horror in my eyes. The fabric was a bit scratchy, but framed my legs
tightly and flattered them… perhaps a bit too much, not in a way they were
supposed to flatter anyone who considered himself to be male, anyway. I turned
around in them and grunted at the feeling of them against my skin and my… more
sensitive area. They were way too tight for me, for anyone in fact.
"Jack, I'm not wearing those!" I shouted again and swung the door open,
stepping outside bare-chested and covered only with the too tight jeans, the
shirt hanging from my hand. Jack turned from the rack of shirts he was
inspecting to look at me and with an almost subtle chuckle walked a bit closer,
a sharp wolf whistle leaving his lips as he leaned in to take a quick peak on
my back side before he sneered at me, this time not subtle at all.
"Are you sure? You look so good in them. Your figure is amazing and your legs…"
another whistle. My cheeks burned red with what I wasn't sure was anger or
shame, "I mean, seriously, you look amazing like that – like a model." his smug
smile could drive me crazy that moment, it really could. I bit on the insides
of my mouth to keep myself aware, shouting at him already put me in a
compromising position with each and every one of the store inhabitants eyes on
me, shouting at him again will earn me an uncomfortable experience and perhaps
more than that.
"I… damn it, don't make fun of me." I muttered, "I am a guy, a man. Why would
you even look in the female's department! I am not wearing those!" my voice
grew louder while Jack's face remained the same calmed mask with the same
smile. I threw the shirt I had in my hand to the floor and turned my back to
him, now I knew that the crimson decorating my face so gallantly was a result
of the embarrassment I caused myself, I knew I was throwing a useless tantrum,
and that Jack was just having some fun on my expense, how could I ever expect
him not to? My reaction's must have been so hilarious to him, he probably was
laughing at me behind my back right now and not caring at all for how shamed I
was to be standing there in pants that emphasizes each creek and every curve my
lower body had to offer, making sure my legs and ass were well displayed for
any who wanted to view them. What did it matter to him if I felt even more
naked than before with them on…
From the corner of my eyes I saw him bend next to me, picking up the disgusting
shirt and folding it in his hands. He walked away from me and I turned in time
to watch him return it to its suitable place on a shelf. He didn't say a thing
but just started probing through the other stacks of fabrics, ignoring me.
I watched him for a few minutes, with his back to me I couldn't see his
expression at all – was he mad at me, maybe reconsidering buying me at all? I
didn't get to find out when he turned around, because at the same moment a
strong tug on my new collar pulled me to face a man not much older than Jack
himself who looked at me with so much contempt in his narrow eyes it made me
shiver. His hand was clutching on my collar and rising ever so slowly until I
had no grip of the floor anymore, only my toes barely touching it as he made me
look into his eyes.
"This trash is your slave?" spitting in my face as he said the words that were
clearly directed at Jack, I turned my face from him and grabbed the hand on my
collar, which was stranding it tighter against my neck. "Letting it yell at you
like that, what kind of a master are you? You need to show him there's
retaliation for such an obscene behavior." Letting me down at last he moved his
face to match looks with Jack who was just standing there staring in our
direction, with a smirk plastered all over his face and without ever letting go
of the collar he pushed me to my knees forcefully which finally got him the
desired reaction of protest. Well – desired by me.
"Stop that, he didn't do you any harm." Jack took a step toward us, and for the
first time I could really notice anger in him, no slight annoyance but genuine
anger. And even though it was obviously directed at the man I couldn't help but
shiver under his eyes and turn my head.
"He didn't, did he?" my offender was obviously not threatened by Jack as I was,
his grip on my collar only tightened when he pushed me further against the
floor. "I'm simply looking out for you, mister. If you can't educate him to be
at least respectful and fearful of you, he's just going to keep acting spoilt.
Like the way it yelled at you before? About not wanting to wear something that
you got for it? If any of my slaves dared do something like that I would let
them walk around naked and sewn their mouths shut." I could feel his hand
tugging slightly on the jeans now, loosening it from around my waist in the
clear intention of pulling it away from me and thus leaving me covered only in
the briefs Jack got for me prior to trying them on.
"Well, thankfully he is not your slave, and I would rather you don't treat him
as if he was." Jack voice was calm and yet the threat in it was very clear and
encouraging. "Please let go of him," his eyes squinted slightly, "Now, please."
The man snorted loudly when he did as Jack commanded, and by that I of course
mean he flung me across the room while making sure to aim at one of the most
crowded spots in the store and also pull hard enough on the thin fabric that it
tore away from my skin and left me almost naked again and shivering from the
pain caused to my still aching body by the fall.
The smirk was clearly apparent in the man's voice "No need to get angry… here,
I got him into his natural condition – I advise you to keep him like that,
teach him his place." With that he left, walking toward the door without
sparing either Jack or me another look while Jack stared at him until the
moment he was out of the door, before walking toward me.
Me, who was sitting so still, unmoving almost – only shivers of cold and ache
disturbing my stillness. I knew I caused him and evidently –myself, a great
deal of embarrassment.
Almost mechanically I turned my head to my master, almost expecting him to
implement the things the man had told him,  hit me or forcefully pull me onto
my legs, yell at me or just promise quietly that when he gets me home I will
pay. I was so positive in this happening I didn't even register that his hand
was extended out for me to take, or the bit of a smile that returned to his
lips when he helped me slowly to my legs and gently stroke my shoulders to help
get dust off them.
"are you hurt somewhere?" the question struck me painfully, shaming me for
thinking he might hurt me at all, I started wondering if he could harm me at
all when his eyes wondered over my body, searching for any sign, scratch or
wound caused by the man. "He was such a pig, Are you okay?" I nodded slowly and
moved my head, still ashamed in myself for not believing he would stand by me,
from everything I experienced while being with him in the last hour it should
have been apparent to me that he wasn't cruel nor selfish, he was just… strange
as opposed to other men I had the grief of meeting during my lifetime, strange
in the manner of being kind and caring for my well-being. I found myself
bitterly wondering if that's really how the world was supposed to be when the
heavy feeling of leather descended on my shoulders and quickly I raised my head
to see Jack kneel before me, a sheepish smile of his lips while his hands still
remained on my shoulders, underneath them a jacket Identical to the one he wore
before, and was now no longer on him.
"Let's find you clothes, or do you rather I take you home?" in my mind the
answer was the latter of course, I was shaken, upset. I could feel the trembles
of my body upset his hands on my shoulder, and those clutched reassuringly.
"Eros, it's okay." He whispered in my ear, "Come on; don't go mute on me just
because of what that swine said."    
 "But… he was right." My voice was so faint I barely heard it myself when I
continued talking, Jack seemed to be confused, but waited for me to continue
without uttering another word. "He's right… what he said, what he did… that's
what you're supposed to do. I… was talking out of turn, I was shouting at you…
I… anyone would do the same or worse…"
Jack let go of my shoulders now and got up, his expression never faltered. "I'm
not 'anyone else', Eros." he said quietly, "I'm me, and if I wanted you not to
talk or to be quiet I would have told you… heck, if I wanted someone who
couldn't say whatever they wanted and tell me when they don't like something, I
would have gotten myself a robot." A friendly pat on my shoulder was enough to
convince me to follow when he started to walk, leaving his jacket for me to
cover my body with; amazingly it was big enough to cover more than enough of my
body.
After all the bustle started to fade away and last of the trembles remaining
from the pain coursing through my limbs disappeared into thin air – as did few
of the shirts Jack joyfully suggested, we were finally on our way to the exit.
Finally; I was getting out, for the last time I was getting out of this place,
running away from the glass tubes and beatings. And I even had a few bags of
clothes in my hand – opposed to past experiences of escaping this place.
Jack also assured me that once I'm settled in he would arrange for more
clothes; maybe send me on what he called a 'shopping spree' with his
girlfriend. All of which he said with the same vibrant smile as always
 
"He's a very important client, so look pretty and keep your damn mouth shut."
The voice of the trader rung in my ears, dimmed by a stream of clear and cold
water that fell upon my head and was followed by a few of angry scrubs tangling
my strands of dark and long auburn hair under a blackening soapy foam. Five
years, no – actually it's been eight years since it was last cut, three years
prior my kidnapping, give or take a few weeks. Now it was long enough to reach
the start of my thighs when dry and beyond that when wet.
Another stream of ice water snapped on my numb skin, the foam was brown and
dirty as it slid down my face and onto my trembling chest and back – it was
stained with sweat, grease and an incredible amount of dirt.
I wanted to laugh at what he said – me, keep my mouth shut? For their benefit?
Who cares about their client, I would talk just to spite them, maybe if he
thought I was too sassy he wouldn't want me at all, and that would really get
them on edge. My hair was pulled at fiercely, split into three groups of long
strands which the trader started braiding into each other.
"You will keep quiet." A final pull on the braid had my head drawn back to face
him, for once he did not have the same toughie-hardy face as ever but a
somewhat softer one. His hand collected a few stray hairs from my forehead and
smoothed them back slowly. "You will, or he will kill you. Do you understand?"
I didn't have time to answer when he let my head go, I didn't get the chance to
before my attender got up to greet his costumer, my newest owner.
My newest nightmare. My worst one yet.    
 
Air. Natural, unfiltered air. Actual wind that crossed my skin with gentle
touches. My skin crawled at the sensation while a strong summer-sun ray almost
burned my unadjusted eyes when I looked up at the blue, dotted with numerous
fluffy clouds sky. A smile managed to sneak his way to my lips and almost
unconsciously I found myself giggle. I was out. It's been forever since the
last time that had happened, it's been so long since I had the chance to
breathe properly, get blinded by a hot, powerful sun or feel the brush of wind
on every exposed piece of my being. Even in those times when I managed to
escape my previous masters I never experienced the outside so strongly, I never
tasted freedom those times, I didn't know freedom.
And now, even though I was not free in any sense, even if it was just a little
while before I would be shoved into a shut off vehicle and then into Jack's
home, and who knows if I would ever be allowed to go out again; even knowing
that I couldn't help but smile and raise my head to meet the sun rays.
"It's great, isn't it?" Jack's hand found its way to my shoulder, awakening me
from my bliss. "The sun is so bright today, almost as if it knows you are
coming home with me and decided to shine brighter as a gift to us…" he said
with a dreamy voice, then snorted in laugher and grabbed my hand, "let's go, we
need to go meet Isabelle… ah—that's my girlfriend by the way, we are meeting
her for lunch before heading home." 
Home – he said it so calmly, unaware of the turmoil I was experiencing by
hearing just that mere word. I didn't have a home, never; not the market, not
my owners houses, even before that. Home just wasn't a word I couldn't include
in my vocabulary in reference to anything, anywhere. And there he goes – saying
it so casually like it was the most basic thing a man should have.
Jack didn't notice my inconvenience and continued to smile and chatter
aimlessly while leading me over to a vast parking lot filled with different
kinds of luxurious and sharp looking vehicles, some of them still with a driver
waiting inside or outside them. Jack wasn't headed toward any of those cars,
instead he went to the far side of the lot where there stood an impressive
motorcycle. It was massive – big enough for two people to ride at least. I
stood quietly and admired the sleek black aluminum frame and shining metal,
only slightly stained with mud and dust – it was so much more beautiful than
any of the cars in the lot, more majestic than the limousines and the private
drivers. Jack noticed my amazement and his smile grew quickly while he was
releasing the chain binding the motorbike securely to a fence,
"She's a beauty, huh?" He said with an incredible pride in his voice, "I wanted
to come with my car but since Isabelle needed it I thought you might like this
one instead. If you don't like it we could take a cub though…"
I shook my head, walking closer to view the leather coated seat and shining
dashboard when suddenly something heavy descended on my head. Jack placed the
helmet properly before stranding it in place, patting my shoulder before
putting his own. "Safety first, then. I'll make sure not to go too fast, so
just hold tightly and enjoy the ride." He held onto the handlebar and climbed
over the seat, encouraging me to get behind him which with some difficulty I
finally managed to do. 
Jack started the machine which roared loudly and without much warning pressed
the gas paddle, causing the bike to charge forward and me in turn to scream
loudly and hold on to him. I could almost hear his smile widen with a chuckle
over the loud growl of the engine when he took the turn out of the parking lot
and into the road. He wasn't really going that fast I finally realized as I saw
numerous cars pass by us in much greater speed, and my grip finally loosened a
bit – allowing me to sit a bit more comfortably behind him and actually look
around on the road and enjoy the wind touching me.
 
It didn't take long before we arrived at whatever our destination was, I wasn't
really paying attention to the road once we were in the city, letting myself
dose off as the ride became slower.
"We are nearly by the restaurant. Hey, are you awake?" Jack's voice awoken me
from my thoughts as we stopped suddenly and he barely gave me time to climb off
before he got up himself, taken off his helmet before helping me to unstrap
mine. It was funny how much he had to bend his back to be on the same eye level
as me. As if he was two times the height I was.  I couldn't help but smile back
when he faced me, his head all messed up from wearing the helmet since his hair
was a bit longer than mine, I guessed mine was not the most neat haircut of all
right now either, but it was probably better than his.
"You look so cute when you smile." He suddenly said right as he was turning
away from me to put both helmets in his trunk and tie the vehicle so it
wouldn't get stolen. "should really do so more often."
He gave me a pat on my disheveled hair, stroked it into a more organized
formation before starting to walk. He didn't bother with his own hair though,
and also didn't wait to see that I followed him. Right in the middle of a
crowded street, if I ran he would never been able to find me; I could just
disappear then, why I didn't was a fucking mystery.
I frowned at his back as we walked, trying to pay attention to where he was
going so I didn't get lost while wondering to myself why would I not want that,
it didn't take long before we arrived at a large fence which the sight of made
Jack stop in his place and me to bump into him. he didn't pay much attention to
that though, and instead hurried to greet someone who stood by a gate in front
of us, and by someone I actually mean a being so stunningly beautiful I found
myself unable to breath for a moment. She – whom after a while of staring at I
realized was actually a human being and not something else entirely – was tall,
even taller than Jack though that might have been due to the high heels she was
wearing on her legs, her very long, lean legs. Her blond hair was sliding over
her back and shoulders like a waterfall with every step she took, and her eyes
were as blue as the sky. She was truly beautiful and right now – she was
walking toward me.
"Jackie, I thought I told you to get a younger one." Her voice, just like any
other part of her was steady and flowed over the air with diligence; her blue
eyes inspected me over thoroughly and I found myself straightening myself under
her gaze, something I never did for anyone in my life, except for maybe one… I
shook my head slightly when she turned away, trying to clear my thoughts. I was
not with him; she was a different person even if the feeling of being
completely uncomfortable around her was almost the same. With her it was just
my need for acceptance, which she seemed to now be discussing with Jack in
quite a heated manner while once in a while throwing strange looks toward me.
The discussion about me continued for a few long minutes, Jack making arguments
why I was a good choice, and that someone younger would require much more work
from the both of them, they didn't have time to take care of someone younger.
The woman looked tense, annoyed and unhappy as she listened to him, she didn't
like me for some reason, and I wasn't waiting to hear it.
I recalled her name as I walked closer to them and closed my eyes with a sigh,
mostly I would never do something like that, but if I was even close to be
right – Isabelle had a very vast effect on Jack's decision in whether to keep
me or not, so I had to give a good impression.
"Ms. Isabelle?" I tried, smiling gently when I got her attention. "I'm sorry to
intrude but… I just wanted to say that I'm very grateful to you and… and master
Jack." I barely kept myself from choking on the words. My smile never wavered,
just as I was taught in the Market when they tried to educate me, a well-
mannered slave was easier to sell than a wild one as I was, and they were
shoving those scripts of right behavior in my head for seven years now, no
reason not to use them when I needed. "I could never hope to be bought by
someone as good as you." I kept the smile when I lowered my eyes, letting her
feel the superiority she needed from towering over me and not so surprisingly
my attempt worked and the feeling of malice around her softened, even if just a
bit.
"Well, at least he is polite." She said, taking a step toward me before cupping
my chin in her hand, one of her sharp nailed fingers traced my lips "—and he is
kind of cute, I guess." She let go of me, gracing Jack with a smile before
starting to walk. He gave me an encouraging look and a smile before following
in her footsteps like a lap-dog on a leash.
I didn't like her, not her cold smile, not the way she made Jack whom I grown
to admire in the last short hours seem so small and compliant, I despised the
way she looked at him like he was some short of tool.
I followed after them, maintaining a safe distance so I didn't hear the rest of
their conversation; I didn't have much interest in hearing him compliment her
new hairdo, her make up or her existence as a whole or the little giggles she
offered him in return. I barely noticed when the three of us entered a
restaurant, only to suddenly be attacked by the overwhelming aromas of a large
variety of foods. It was amazing, unlike anything I ever encountered.
In the Market the slaves were all kept on a strict diet, fed small portions of
vitamin and protein induced foods to keep them alive and in shape, other
nourishments included small tablets with who knows what in them once a day, I
never had a bite of real meat, or god forbid – a fresh fruit or vegetable,
everything was synthetic, without a smell or taste.
Those days were over now though, those days were behind me. Jack smiled at me
while we were seated next to a vast table, receiving an unpleased look from the
waiter as I sat down on the chair, apparently that wasn't very acceptable.
"Sir, if you wish we do have a place for your slave to wait for you until you
are done." He said while handing Jack and Isabelle large menus, I felt their
look on me while I kept my face down, trying not to doubt Jack like I did
before. Jack wasn't going to throw me in some back room, was he? He proved to
care for me once, he seemed to be treating me like any other human being up
until now, that wasn't going to change, right? I found myself scouting the room
while waiting to hear Jack's answer, only barely noticing a few other slaves
sitting around the place – most of them on the floor by the legs of their
masters, one or two sat on the laps of mid-aged men and where fed small chunks
of their master's food once every few seconds. Maybe having to wait in another
room would not be very bad…
"Don't be foolish. He will be dining with us." I raised my head in surprise at
the voice of Isabelle. That… I was not expecting. To have her defend me was a
shuttering blow to the confidence I had in my people-reading skills. I was sure
she'd be delighted to have me sit on the floor and beg to be fed like others in
the room. This was not expected, not one bit. "We are celebrating today, after
all." She continued and I nearly sighed – with that it was clear, for her this
was a one-time thing then, next time I would definitely get the floor.
With her nose stuck in the menu as she examined the variety of courses written
in it, which I barely managed to sneak a glance at in Jack's menu which sat on
the table still, it didn't seem as if he was even going to choose something for
himself, he probably counted on her to do so for him. If I didn't know better I
would say he was the slave between the three of us, and not I. he was attached
to her like a cat to its milk, it was almost sickening to see.    
With a smile returned to me from him I started to wonder what this man who
before seemed so much more dominant could have found in such a domineering
woman as Isabelle, she clearly made every single choice in his life, be it the
food he ate or the clothes he wore – since there was no way he chose them
himself, she was probably the most immediate risk for my remaining with them as
well, everything was set exactly how she liked it. So if she didn't like me
that would mean…
I shook my head slightly when I heard her calling out to me, my name on her
tongue was filled with a sweet kind of venom when she asked if what she chose
for me to eat was okay, and if I was allergic to anything. I shrugged slightly,
the name she said wasn't something I recognized, it was in some foreign
language or something, not that I knew much words in our own language that
related to food.
"Great, than the soup for the first course. The fish for both me and Jackie and
a steak entrecote for him – make sure it's a big one, he needs to put on some
weight. Should I trust you for the champagne?" she flipped her hair back while
directing a dazzling smile at the confused waiter, who hurried to nod and give
a shy smile as well, a perfect couple indeed.
It didn't take very long for the food to arrive, but that short amount of time
seemed as an eternity as in that while Isabelle took the liberty to ask me
every question that came to her mind, for most of those I didn't have the
answer to or just didn't want to answer – not that she seemed to care. Whenever
I took too much time or hesitated to answer she'd skip to the next question or
just simply threw an not very complimenting remark over to Jack on his choice
of clothes or about how messed up my hair was. It wasn't too nice to experience
or watch so when the soup finally arrived I found myself staring at it
uncomfortably, wondering to myself if I was really meant to eat it, or if she
put it in front of me with the purpose of testing me.
It kept me still for a few moments, staring at the bowl filled with a thick
brown-orange substance and chunks of what seemed to be vegetables and other
unrecognizable things, and alongside all of those were thin and long stuff. It
was huge and seemed too foreign for me to understand. I raised my head slowly
to look at Jack, who didn't look fazed at all and was eating without any care
for his surroundings. He stopped mid slurp to look back at me, putting down his
spoon.
"Is everything okay? Isn't it tasty?" he asked, averting Isabelle's eyes toward
me as well. "We can ask them to bring you something else, if you like."
Isabelle closed her eyes and sneered, "Don't spoil him, Jack. He should eat
what he is given and be thankful." She said and returned to her soup, never
giving me another look. I could feel my face heating up in response to that,
here it was – she was patronizing me.
"Actually… I was just uncertain how to…" I started, but seeing Jack's worrying
eyes I stopped myself and picked up my own spoon, starting to stuff my mouth
with the surprisingly good tasting goop, very good tasting actually. I could
feel my eyes expanding in amazement as the flavor flooded my mouth with
sensations of pleasure alongside a slight burning feeling from the spiciness of
it. The second spoonful was even better as it included in it some of the meat
and vegetables, and also bits of the thin, long and viscous things, each adding
its own flavor to the sensual party in my mouth. I didn't raise my look again
even once after that second taste, at least not until there was almost no drop
left in the bowl, it was so tasty that I didn't notice when my stomach
protested at the irregular amounts of food I forced into it, I didn't care. It
was the first time since I was born that I had something that had such a strong
flavor pass in my throat, the first time I experienced the sheer bliss that
came from the variable spices and the slight burning in my mouth that was
different from any ache I ever had the infortune to feel – and that was a good
different.
I could feel Jack's amused eyes on me when I let the spoon dangle into the bowl
and rest there, his soup was also long gone by now, and he spent his time
staring at me eating.
"It's like you haven't eaten in months." He joked and suddenly got up, leaned
toward me and wiped my chin with his thumb, not caring for my probable confused
expression when he licked a leftover goopy substance from it. "Save some space
for the main course. Right?" his tone was still with a joking shade to it, but
when looking into his grey eyes I found myself realizing that he was actually
pretty serious, and that seeing me gobbling up the food like that was probably
causing him to worry about me. I nodded slightly, letting myself smile just a
bit to relieve him; he shouldn't be worrying about me after all. I was just a
slave.
The main dish couldn't have arrived earlier, rescuing me from an awkward
staring contest with my master and throwing me instead into a hopeless fight
against my own body, as my stomach kept insisting that I couldn't possibly fit
another piece of food in it, though my senses were stimulated constantly by the
rich aroma of the red meat on my plate, lush and juicy and smelling so freaking
good, I couldn’t help but want to try even just a little piece of it, which in
turn led to another piece and another after that. I didn’t even know I had this
capacity for food in me so when I was done I was suffering not only from a
slight stomach ache and an unusual feeling of fullness, but a heated from
embarrassment face too.
"Well then, as I see we are all finally done," Isabelle's voice erupted
suddenly, interrupting my self-scolding for eating so hoggishly, which her
words only further enhanced when she eyed me, half frowning, "I believe it's
time that we go home, I am sure…" she paused, "How did you name him, darling?"
eyes turning sharply to Jack as she asked the question, and he answered her
with his usual grin, both of them disregarding me completely. "Ah, yes. I am
sure Eros would like to rest, since he will have a long day tomorrow."
Perhaps it was that warm, full feeling I had, or perhaps the long day that I've
been through, perhaps it was the exhaustion from the night before that right
now, despite the uncountable aches I had remaining from it now seemed really
far away, but as she mentioned it my body did become a bit heavy, my eyelids
struggling not to close. Now that she mentioned it, I could use a good night
sleep, maybe they will even lend me a sofa, or at least be kind enough not to
let me sleep on the floor? I wasn't expecting much, though by then, regarding
all that I have been given by the pair, I probably should have.
 
Chapter End Notes
     GAH, dat food scene. I got hungry by just writing it. ლ(ಠ_ಠლ) was it
     too much? XD
     hope you like it, if you did - please leave me a review and let me
     know! I love reviews. <3 if you didn't like it then I guess you
     should leave a comment as well, tell me what was wrong so I can do
     better. :D
     also, if you like this story, you might also like my other, a bit
     more explicit story right here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/
     453809
     Thank you!
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Okay, WOW. it's been forever since I updated. sorry guys! it will be
     harder for me to update regulary from now on, as I started my studies
     and have loads of homework. :
Cold eyes that roamed over me were the only things I could see with my vision
narrowed to a panicking, blinking and blurred mess as a hand I thought might be
bigger than my head closed itself around my chin and jaw, covered in the blood
that for the last couple of seconds ran loosely from my nose onto my lips, chin
and the inside of my mouth.
"He is too skinny." The words almost rang in my ears, and joy I didn't think I
could receive from hearing words in the likeness of those was hammering in my
head as my eyes closed with relief.Maybe he wouldn't want to take me after all
if this was what he thought of me.But my eyes tore open once more when another
huge hand made a thin, red path of my blood from where it had been dripping
slowly on my naked chest down and over my torso and as previously stated –
skinny stomach, it's touch both cold and burning over my skin. "I could break
him into half if I wished." He added, smirking as my eyes jerked involuntary to
meet with his clear blue orbs that had no more than cruelty toward me in them.
The trader beside us sighed silently before answering the usual answer prepared
for exactly this kind of statements. "He doesn't get to eat much for being a
disobedient little bitch." A long, silent pause had my disorganized breathes
accelerate further as black spread over my vision from the corners of my eyes,
my sight blurred enough so that I couldn't see at all anymore. "This is why we
thought he would be a good match for you, Alexander. I know how much you like
to educate the wild ones, even now! With any other costumer he probably would
have made some snarky comment or struggled already, but after that hit – he
would never dare! It is amazing how you canhandlethem so well, really."
The hand on my stomach started once again traveling down while the other one
left my head and grabbed my braid-knotted hair which he fondled with until it
became loose, pulling at it to make sure all knots the trader worked on before
were untied before bringing the long strands of auburn to his own face,
sniffing them like one would a flower.
"He would never dare, would he?" the voice made me flinch, gave me a feeling
that I didn't experience in years. I knew that if I answered this question in
the way I wanted – if I dared and proved him wrong – it will be my end.
I clenched my teeth tightly, swallowing the blood mixed in my saliva as I
blinked in a desperate attempt to stay awake, because if I lost my
consciousness I could not know what would happen next, I wouldn't be able to
protect myself or escape or do anything at all, and that terrified me.
"Look at you, so small and delicate that I could snap and break you with only a
finger like a twig of wood, and yet you still think you can be this defiant
toward me?" he hissed the words into my ear, his breath chilling against my
nape as his hand continually stroked the strands of my hair. "Your nose is
broken, you can barely see, your body is begging to just fall sleep and not
feel anymore but you – you just have to show that you are so tough, don't you?
You want to show me that you are stronger, that even if I'm petrifying you,
that even though I could kill you and no one would say a word… you are an
arrogant little worm, aren’t you?" a strong tug on my hair had me cry out for
the first time since he came into the room and caused my legs to finally fail
me as I fell to the floor with him standing above me. "I don't like arrogant
little boys like you, thinking you can so stubbornly look at me with those
hideous eyes of yours, not even crying? You should be begging right now, crying
for me not to hit you anymore. But you're too good to beg, aren't you? It's
beneath you."  
My body shivered uncontrollably as I felt him turn me over to lie on my
stomach, his hand trickling down my back along my spine like heavy raindrops. I
knew where that hand was heading and I couldn't do a thing – too scared of
another hit to struggle out of his grip I didn't move at all, but as he said I
was too proud to let myself beg him to stop, I knew he wouldn't even if I tried
so why should I humiliate myself?
"look at you, you are trembling as if this is your first time," he mocked me,
his hand already almost at its destination, prying open a gap between my
cheeks, "But of course it isn't, right? This pretty little bud hosted numerous
cocks inside it, more than you could ever count. A whore's hole, to be used
then cast aside, so many times." A gentle stroke above the sensitive muscles
made me jump involuntarily; he was teasing me, wounding my self-esteem with his
words and touches with the sole purpose of making me beg because the moment I
started begging would be the moment he overpowered me, the moment I admit he
was a superior being to me. But he wasn't, he couldn't ever be.
"You are nothing but a tool, a toy to be passed around by men. You know that."
one finger was in… or maybe two? It was too thick to be just one. I clenched my
teeth as much as I could, my eyes shut tightly though even if I opened them I
would be blind to what was happening. I just had to stay still, stay quiet. I
was through similar experiences in the past, I could survive another one, and I
could survive a hundred more. He had nothing over me.
It will be over soon. I just had to remain calm, not give him what he wants,
just keep silent and go through the motions, I don't have to listen to his
words, and his face I couldn't see anyway; this was just another rape, another
type of abuse. He kept talking and I kept reminding myself that he was wrong,
even if the things he said were true he was still wrong. Always wrong.
"If you beg… then perhaps I will consider going on gently about this." He
whispered in my ear, his fingers – now there were three of those, made motions
inside me that apart from their goal to stretch me enough, were clearly made to
scratch and wound my insides. His body above mine was delighting on my shivers
and the little mewls of pain that somehow managed to escape through my clenched
teeth, between my raised thighs something was growing hard and grinded against
my barely clothed groin. That is, barely covered by what remained of my tunic
which was ripped off me just minutes after the man entered the room.
Just beg, he said. Just beg and this will hurt a lot less, just beg and this
might even be pleasurable for you, just cry out, just yell.
I swallowed the bitter lump sitting in my throat, tasted the blood that came
with it. He was at my entrance and if I only said something, anything at all,
if only I called a name or asked'Please' with a shaky voice maybe he would
stop, maybe he will not do this.
"Beg for me, cry for me."
My head slowly turned, my eyes opened to a red, blurry sight. Just say the
word; just say it and maybe he will stop.
Maybe wasn't good enough.
"NO!"
As pain flooded me, I finally lost my consciousness.
 
A break down, that's what was happening to me. A total mental breakdown.
What was I doing, dreaming about that? It's been two years since then, I was in
a new place, a new home. My owners were as nice and gentle with me as they'd be
with a day old kitten. For the first time in my life I was completely and
utterly safe and that… THAT is what I dream of at night?
I raised my hand to my face, covering my suddenly moist eyes and cheeks and
wiping them as a single sob left my mouth, a dull ache that hadn't bothered me
in a week suddenly woken and rattled my body completely as I tried to get up,
kicking the sheets around my legs before sitting up on the bed, my bed. I was
sitting on my own bed. Slowly, as I felt the warm, soft mattress under my
fingers my breath also slowly calmed down, the tears stopped soaring out and I
smiled a bit. I never imagined that I'd get my own, real bed and much less my
own room. It wasn't very big, or perhaps it wasn't as big as the rest of Jack's
apartment which was absolutely huge, built in a tall building over three floors
I could not help but get lost in it even after a week of staying there and
exploring the place thoroughly, even now I was scared to get out of the room
and head to the nearest bathroom, afraid to get lost in the maze of rooms and
hallways, that after spending so much time trapped in small spaces seemed
extremely massive to me. I drew a large breath in and lay back on the mattress,
taking comfort in the warmness that enveloped me and recovered the sheets I
threw to the floor before, grimacing slightly as the dull pain strengthened.
Maybe it wasn't that sort of pain was what I told myself as I held onto my
stomach, horrified. It's been a week, should it really last this long? I never
went through such a long period of time without experiencing one or another
type of pain by the hands of who ever had me, I never knew what it was to be
completely sated and relaxed until I rested on the luxurious bed and taken a
long bath with actual warm water, believing that kind of pain is something I
won't have to feel again.
I still wanted to believe that.
Maybe it was just sore muscles, or maybe the dream I had just made me
experience the pain all over again mentally, and wasn't really there at all. I
hoped that was really just that.
Curling under my covers and hugging the plush pillow under my head I closed my
eyes slowly, considering all the things that happened this last week, which
wasn't much, actually. After the initial shock from seeing just where Jack
lived – where I would live had passed and the secondary shock of discovering I
was to have my own room which while small compared to the apartment was pretty
damn large and beside the bed I was laying on now had also a big screen
television, a large book stand with all kinds of books which I couldn't
recognize and also a big closet, which was now filled almost completely with
the clothes Jack got for me at the Market, and some more Isabelle ordered from
a catalogue. The room's walls were decorated with paintings and posters of
people I didn't know.
I couldn't believe it was actually mine, whenever I looked around me the first
couple of nights I always thought I must have lost my way and ended up in the
wrong place, that I couldn't possibly belong in such a luxurious room.
 
Being grateful could not even begin to describe what I was feeling toward Jack
and… yes, even to Isabelle. It was really an amazing thing that they treated me
the way they did, even if they had not so few demands in return, which Isabelle
made clear the morning after the day Jack bought me when she shoved a mop in
one of my hands and a bucket of soapy water smelling like lemon in the other,
and demanded I start cleaning that very moment before leaving the room and me
in it, standing confused and unsure what I should do and where the hell to
start. Having no idea at all as to where everything should be or how to go
about what to clean and how, I found myself standing around in that room and
helplessly look at the door, hoping that she would soon return with a more
elaborated explanation which of course she didn't for a very long time.
When she did return to see me standing still in the same place she left me, she
was not pleased to say the least, but she also didn't say a thing to show it,
not to me anyway. She picked a little machine out of her pocket – a cellphone,
one of the really advance, expensive ones I'd seen people in the market use,
she dialed and walked out of the room and soon after I could hear her dimmed
voice angrily spouting accusations – probably to Jack- about my incompetence
and laziness and a whole lot more words similar to these.
She returned to the room a few minutes later, giving me an annoyed look while I
averted my eyes from her, expecting her to lash out on me for still just
standing there and not doing as I was told, I was ready to talk and explain
that I had no Idea what I should do when she took the mop and bucket from me
and put them laid against the wall.
"Jack said he didn't explain your duties to you, he can be such a useless man."
She said simply, giving me a sharp look, "Doesn't the market teach you
creatures those simple things?" the question didn't require an answer, as it
seemed. She turned around to leave the room and only stopped for a moment
before actually stepping out of the door, giving me a single look of what
seemed to me like contempt, but could so easily be just pure hearted hatred –
or maybe I was just so used to see anger as hatred that I was just misreading
her. In any case the look of her eyes was not a pleasant one.
"Eros." Her voice felt like a freezing breeze on my skin and made it crawl when
I raised my stare to meet with hers. "With a single word I can have Jack throw
you back to the Market, actually – with less than that. I don't care how fond
of you he is. If you do not make yourself useful you will be out of here before
you can even blink." Her voice was venomous as she walked toward me, stopping
just before me. "You will clean, do errands, cook… you will do anything we can
think of asking of you. I don't care if you don't know how to do something."
Her voice was dangerously low, her eyes fixed on mine as she raised her hand to
put it on my shoulder, "your life of leisure up until now has ended, starting
the moment Jack comes home, you are a proper, working slave. I advise you to
start getting used to it." After saying that she turned back, taking the step
out of the door as she intended to do before.
A leisure life, I had to hold my breath just to not start laughing before she
left the room, a bitter, and a bit sad chuckle escaped me finally. A leisure
life, I was expecting full heartedly to experience one.
 
I was conscious, or I should have been. Light eluded my sight wherever I turned
my eyes but the feeling of pain roaming around my body, striking it with
painful stabs was so strong that I could not possibly be sleeping.
But it was so dark. Why was it so dark? My eyes were definitely open, I WAS
awake and I could feel everything – the cold floor under my exposed, burning
thighs and bottom, the ropes scalding their shape into my wrists and the
burning feeling of my lungs filling with dusty, almost non-existent air. I
blinked my eyes a few times and gasped when I felt another stab of pain through
my head when a hand patted it so gently that unless I felt the pain I could
never know it was actually there.
"Are you finally awake?" the hand moved to the side of my head through my hair,
fingers forcing my chin up although I could not see him. "You are still blinded
from before, aren't you? Not a single glint in your eyes. Don't worry, it will
pass soon and your sight will be perfect again." Crude lips met mine as the
hand held my head in place, keeping me from flinching away. "It hurts, doesn't
it? Your whole body burns and itches and the roped cuts into your flesh so
deeply your blood just stopped flowing through." A moan escaped me before I
could stop it when his hand skipped down to my genitals, cupping them whole
with a crashing hand. "That's a cute voice, I do wish you made it for me sooner
so you could avoid this pain. Why don't you make some more right now? I might
forgive your defiance, reward you…"
"N-no…" my voice barely came out, rasping through my throat and burning it as I
moved my face away with the hope of shaking his view of me. "P-please… please
stop…" a sob left me when he pressed down, crashing me under his meaty fingers.
Not being able to see had made the feeling stronger than I could ever feel
otherwise, but it also didn't feel real at all. It confused me and tore at my
mind when I tried to shake the feeling with little to no success at all.
"Do you understand why you're in this condition?" he asked; one of his fingers
climbing to the top of my member pressed on it and massaged it until another
moan escaped me. "Or do I need to repeat what I said to you in the market?" he
leaned in further until I could finally feel his breath warming my neck and
another hand moving my hair back, the sound of him sniffing my skin make it
crawl and I whimpered silently as the harsh stroking accelerated, feeling like
fire that burned me. "Don't bite your lip like that, what are you doing?" it's
not a question, that I realized even before he parted my lips from my teeth
with a slick tongue and forced my jaw to open, he did not advance with that
violation though, telling me silently that he just wanted to hear me, that like
before – if I was to beg him whole-heartedly he would make it pleasurable for
me, he would reward me. I just didn't want it to hurt anymore.
"Please…" his mouth is coating me with blessed warmth when I whisper my broken
pleas, whimpering as his tongue and hands touches every hurting, sensitive spot
of my body. The contrast of the heat between my groin and the rest of my body
was so vast, making me both hot and freezing cold at the same time. "P-
please..." any other word was forgotten from my mind when he bit on the
sensitive skin with a clear intention of drawing something out, blood or semen
or any other bodily fluid. He was not acting with the intention of harming me
or hurting me and I could feel it when his chest rubbed against my stomach that
if he wished what he was doing to me could have been much more painful, he was
being merciful for as long as I could manage the tattered pleads and the soft
groans.
"You are a beauty when you're like this." he suddenly said, his hand moved to
my face, holding it straight for him to look into my eyes, "I wish you could
see yourself, your open, gasping mouth and your long eyelashes… your face is
burning like fire when I touch you, doesn't it?" his hands once again return to
my hair, stroking it and brushing it back, keeping it away from my sweaty
forehead which he then kissed softly.
A little by little my vision started to come back, blurry and dark at first,
but soon cleared into a still dark yet sharp vision of my assailant. Tall, his
hair blond and cut short and his eyes two light-blue, freezing orbs.
"I will make a proper slave out of you."
 
A proper slave, the words kept ringing in my ears even as the day passed by,
they were as loud and clear in the dream as they were in my memory, they were
just as harsh and just as condescending as they were when they came from
Isabelle's mouth as when they came out of his. Their meaning couldn't have been
more different, what one meant by proper couldn't have been stranger to the
other, but in their essence they were exactly the same.
I put away the mop I had been using the last couple of hours, cleaning out most
of the rooms which was hard work, but also somewhat relaxing compared… compared
to anything else really. And now that I was done I had the time to do whatever
I wanted, at least until it was time to heat up dinner. I smiled to myself at
the thought, as this actually meant that I was free to do whatever I wanted
until I got hungry, since not Jack or Isabelle were ever home for dinner.
For the first time that week my eyes wandered to the entrance door, rather, for
the first time that week it was the exit door in my eyes, a way out instead of
one in, it astounded me how easy it was, how easily I could slip away but
didn't this past week, how it never occurred to me before that I could've gone
and never return, yet didn't. I was ignoring this door for the whole week, the
thought never even passing through my mind until this exact moment and even now
all I wanted was a short trip for air and wind and what little sun-light that
could pass between the towering buildings outside, running away was no longer a
viable option – why would I run from a life that had so far been kind to me,
and for such a comfortable price?
I wondered if Jack had predicted this, if he knew that spending time around
that place, with him and with Isabelle would cure my addiction of running away
as the traders had described it, if he knew just how to subdue me and make me
as obedient as he willed me to be. After all – would he really leave me here
alone with the doors unlocked, with freedom so close that I could taste it, yet
not want it at all, if he didn't know?
Or was he really stupid enough to trust me this much?
 
 
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     WOW I though I would never get this done.
     this chapter gave me so much trouble - I have rewritte it about 5
     times until I got to this version, and I'm still not too happy about
     it.
     But, well, this is it. I hope you enjoy it after such a long time
     with not updates, please don't hate me :(
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The first step out of the building was not as incredible as I liked to believe
it should be, the air didn't taste any different from the air inside Jack's
apartment, well, rather – it stunk so badly that for a moment I considered
going back inside and never come out again. There was no wind blowing over my
skin or sun gleaming down on me, instead there were people, dozens upon dozens
of people who were walking in groups so dense and so fast that I was swept
within them before I could even look around me, pushing me and cursing at me
because I stood in their way to whatever destination they hurried to go to,
none of them really saw me as I struggled out of the street into one shallow
and empty alley, heaving and gasping for smelly air for as long as it took it
to reach my lungs.
I started thinking that I really shouldn't have gone out, not without Jack –
not alone for the first time. I should've gone back right then, made myself
something to eat and rest from the day before starting to get ready for sleep,
thinking that I slowly went to the edge of the alley and cautiously peeked out
to find a quieter street which was also completely foreign to me; it wasn't the
street where Jack and Isabelle's apartment was, it really wasn't even similar
to it.
I breathed in nervously and went out of the alley, this was not what I had in
mind when I went out of that door, I just wanted to go out for a few minutes
and without haste go back inside. what was Jack going to think if he came back
and didn't see me inside? Would he think I ran away?
A feeling of desperation started creeping up my spine as I looked around me and
found that not only was the area not familiar, I was completely unaware up
until now that I had absolutely no idea what the building Jack apartment was in
looked like. I didn't get a very good look at it when Jack and Isabelle showed
me in the first time, and I didn't go out or had a chance to look at it since.
I knew it was very tall, and clean, and looked new like it was built just last
week, I knew the entrance door had silver decorations on it, and that the glass
it was made of was dark so people outside could not see what went on inside,
but when I looked around me I could see doors just like that everywhere, and
buildings just as clean and new and tall as Jack's was. I found myself looking
around frantically, trying to remind myself from what direction I came from,
convince myself that the people standing around in the street were not looking
at me, were not suspicious of me in some way – when one took out his cellphone
my panic level rose as the thought they might be calling the Market – what if
they did? What would happen to me if I was found in the street less than a week
after being bought? My legs moved on their own as I tried to shove the thought
to the back of my mind, my teeth chewing on my lower lip and my eyes moving all
around in search of something familiar, some trait of the building that
couldn't possibly have written itself off my mind, meanwhile I kept trying to
keep my head down enough to not let someone see the stone in my forehead, the
mark that forever kept me many levels under any other human being. I of course
knew that everyone who passed by me knew exactly what I was, how could they
not? My hair was cut short as a way for the traders to play on one of my
deepest despairs, making it near impossible to keep my identity, my role in
society as they said it, to myself. Anyone who passed me in the street would
recognize the gleam of a controller on my forehead – and if not that, then the
collar on my neck was with no doubt the most obvious indicator on my status.
The streets did not became any more familiar than they were before. If anything
the more I walked the worst the sense of going further away became and finally
I stopped myself to look around me. I felt helpless looking at the buildings
around me, all of them intimidating in the way they blocked any view of the sun
I had before, of the grey sky. I couldn't recognize any of them. My breath
hitched as I laid back against a wall and my eyes dropped to the surface of the
sidewalk, I could feel the burn of tears start in the corner of them and
hurried to wipe my eyes and raise them, just to find the eyes of every passerby
stuck on me as they walked by. I couldn't stay there any longer, I had to go
somewhere, find my way back somehow…
The way to do it was actually pretty simple.
I bit my lips again, feeling the smooth sensitive skin go to the verge of
breaking under my teeth as I raised my hand to my forehead, at first only
wiping the sweat that was gathering above my eyebrow, than moved just a bit to
find the stone, the red, sharp diamond shaped stone that had every detail on me
stored in it, embedded strongly into my skin, my skull too perhaps. It could be
so simple to find out Jack’s address and my way back… all I really needed was a
cellphone, just like those everybody around were using to talk into loudly or
to listen to music through outlandish ear-phones. One of them could probably
help me… one of them would put their phone against my head, scan the stone and
see everything, my number, my name, some of the things that were stored there
that I had no knowledge about. With such a simple action they would know every
detail…
The mere thought of asking someone to do this – to talk to someone at all was
terrifying to me. I didn’t want to. I knew all too well what could happen to me
if I tried and talked to someone wrong – someone who was not like Jack, who did
not think about slaves as human… I had already discovered in the market how
awful people could be but… It’s not that I had any other choice, I didn’t know
the way back, I had no way to find out and staying out during the night to try
finding the way was definitely the worse option.
With a decision formed in my mind I removed my fingers from the stone and
raised my eyes slowly.
The amount of people walking through the street was reduced now, people in
expensive looking suits carrying metal suitcases, not even paying attention to
my figure standing next to one of the walls. I wasn’t too keen about talking to
anyone, but knowing that I had to I preferred it to be a woman, or someone
young. I’d rarely see people like that in the Market, usually the people who
came there were already middle aged or older, people who were financially
secured and could afford the grandiose price of buying and sustaining a slave,
very rarely you’d see someone younger than thirty – which was why Jack presence
there in was making me anxious in the first place. But he proved to be quite
nice, nicer than any other person I met in my life really. And if the world was
not completely corrupted, there was bound to be someone else out here who’d
help me and not ask too many questions or ask for anything in return.
I swallowed, taking a step into the street when I noticed someone who unlike
all the rest did not have graying hair or wrinkles on his face, he was also
shorter than all the other man and was clothed more casually, with short brown
hair barely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt, he was focused on the device
in his hand, not paying attention to his surrounding too much. He didn’t look
like he’d be trouble or something like that, in fact, he looked to be my age.
How bad could talking to him be?
“E… Excuse me?” my voice was shaky, I had to pause as he turned to look at me
just to get my breathing in order. I stood planted in place and stared at his
face for a moment before drawing in a breath and talking again. “I… I, um… can
you help me?” my voice stuttered as he smiled and got closer, then stopped and
looked at me, or rather – inspected me. He looked somewhat confused at first,
and then he smiled.
“Sure, I’d love to.” He said and got even closer; his eyes seemed to be fixed
on the point on the middle of my forehead, still with a bit of wondering in
them. “You’re a slave, aren’t you? Thought you should always have the owner
with you all the time? Did you run away?” the questions had me nervously jump
in place and shake my head vigorously, not muttering another word as anxiety
pooled in my stomach and burned in it like acid. He didn’t look a bit bothered
by that though, instead his eyes wondered away from me to his phone, and he
played with it for a while before returning his attention back to me. “So, What
do you need? I can get you a place to stay, or food – are ya hungry? You look
like you haven’t eaten in ages.” His attention moved right back to his phone,
not even waiting to hear my answer or at least see the shake of my head as my
mouth was too dry due to anxiety. I thought I noticed the hint of a smirk on
his lips as he touched the screen of his cellphone a few more times, and
finally I coughed to try and get his attention.
“I… I just thought that maybe you could find the address of my… Owner’s home…
with that. Please.” I choked out, pointing at the cellphone and averting my
eyes as he gave me a rather disappointed look. The thought of sheltering a
runaway slave seemed like it was very appealing to him for a reason, I guess he
thought it would come with some benefits, and I didn’t want to lead him on, if
he decided to try and get what he thought he deserved, I would never be able to
fend off against him.
“Huh? The address?” he asked dumbly, disappointed without any doubt he took
another step in my direction, and I took one back and away from him, I didn’t
want him too close, not in the range where he would have the ability of
grabbing me if I had to run for it; this made his face look even further
confused. “Look, it’s fine if you are running away, I don’t really care. I’m
really just offering to take you to dinner cause you look hungry. You shouldn’t
get the cold feet now.” He said and I hurried to shake my head again.
“I’m really not-“ my voice was cut as a loud growl of hunger roared through my
shirt’s fabric, no doubt it came from my stomach. I really hadn’t eaten that
day, not because I couldn’t or something, Jack didn’t put me on a tight ration
or something, unlike previous owners who kept me underfed and as skinny as my
skeleton; no, it was simply because my stomach couldn’t really contain much
food, so I ate much less than I could and should have in my first week with an
open buffet. Looking like I haven’t eaten must be a side-effect to that, as was
being hungry. “-I’m not… running away.” I completed the sentence with a burning
face, the stuttering in my voice replaced with it reducing to an embarrassed
whisper, seeing as his smile grew at the sound. “Just… please, please get me
the address” I choked out, my eyes fixated on the phone in his hand, which he
started tapping as I talked with his smile widening.
“Fine, I will if you insist.” He sighed, and a jolt of relief went up my spine,
causing me to step toward him against my best judgment, which told me I should
keep the distance between me and any other person in the world who was not
Jack. I took a deep breath as I let him put his hand on my shoulder, his other
hand tapping the screen of his phone rapidly. He wasn’t looking at me at all
but as the minutes went by his hand’s grip of my shoulder became tighter. “Let
me just find that scanner app, yeah?” he said and I closed my eyes with a
silent sigh of impatience. I wanted this to be over sooner, to be able to be on
my way back right about now. My legs were hurting from standing on them and
walking around for so long, my stomach stated its hunger with angry growls and
grousing and the feeling of shame was hanging at the back of my mind, telling
me that I shouldn’t have left in the first place; this was my fault, really.
And now I had consequences to deal with.
“Aha! Here it is.” His voice exclaimed loudly and suddenly, waking me from my
thoughts as the back of his phone suddenly covered my sight, and a sharp and
familiar pain shot through my forehead to its hind, carrying with it the data
that I was seeking.
The process that happened as the scanner and the controller did their thing was
never properly explained to me, all I really knew about it was that it wasn’t
pleasant, and that I could feel any surge of electricity attacking my brain
with 1’s and 0’s that slowly translated into manageable data, at first an
address, then a map and then…
A whimper left my mouth as the knowledge of the location became like crystal,
clear and bold all at once with no warning, like a stroke of lightning hitting
my nerve’s ends and burning it on them. I knew where I was, I knew where I had
to be right now and I knew that I had to go there that very instant, I couldn’t
be outside, I shouldn’t be there – and knowing that was just enough to make the
controller kick into action.
I struggled out of the youth’s hold, taking a few steps back and wiping the
tears of pain that started to coming out then I tried to walk away – just to be
grabbed by him again, this time strongly and without slack he pulled me into an
alleyway and shoved me against the wall, and my breath which I held in up until
then because of the pain hitched as he grabbed both my hands and pinned them
over my head. I couldn’t be there. I shouldn’t be there. My mind was screaming
at me, I knew my way back yet couldn’t go… I shouldn’t have left in the first
place.
“Who said you can go, huh?” his hissed, his eyes stared into my own frustrated
and mad, he leaned closer and I tried – really, really tried to struggle, to
make him loosen his grip on me while fighting the tears that were still
threatening to start flowing. “You haven’t even thanked me! That’s really not
nice of you, not very slave-y at all you know?” his voice reduced to a whisper,
“Maybe you should stick around a bit, I called some guys, they really want to
meet you… after they do you can go to wherever, home or run away or whatever
that was.”
A jolt of pain passed through my head again, the controller was heating up as I
reluctantly stayed still and not hurried to go back as I should have done.
Consequences.
“Please…” my voice was shaking and the tears I’d been fighting came on triumph,
“Please let me go, please.” I looked up at him, straining my best innocent,
cute begging face I could muster up, which made his grip slacken a bit – not
enough. I had to try harder, I had to get away and get back, if not for the
fear of pain which I would feel either way, then for Jack – I couldn’t allow
him to think that I ran away, I couldn’t let him be disappointed in his
decision to pick me out of all the other slaves, I couldn’t let the traders be
right about me.
I lowered my head just a bit, half faking a whimper – only half since one would
have gotten out sooner or later – when one of his hands abandoned its position
to caress me cheek and wipe a tear from the corner of my eye – his other hand
was now holding both of mine firmly.
“You knew this would happen when you approached me.” He declared then, his
smile was cruel under the guise of gentleness. “coming on to me with that
stupid excuse, wanting to find the way home? You really thought that was
believable?” he snickered and leaned even closer towards me. “I knew right from
the start you were a little whore, a bitch like all the other slaves.”
I bit my lower lip, not even trying to get my face to look pitiable and
innocent like I did before, instead I was angry and my face was showing it
clearly. And also I was in pain. It was not the best combination since it meant
there was nothing I could do with the anger that pooled in my stomach – nothing
but talk.
“I am not… a whore.” I spat, my hands only slightly moving to get out of his
grip, “I’m NOT. And even if I was, I would never let an ugly creature like you
touch me for anything in the world, you piece of-“
A sound of laugher silenced me mid-sentence and I turned my head to watch a
group of people – youths just like the one who held me against the wall. They
were coming closer and the feeling of anguish became heavier and I could feel
my heart sinking with despair the closer they got, if I could not escape a
single teen, how could I ever hope to run away from at least ten more of them?
Some… actually pretty big.
“He really got you with that, didn’t he?” one of them mocked, “Not that he has
a right to talk, thought you said you found a pretty one?” the one who talked
held out his hand to take his hold on my jaw and turn my head so he could take
a better look at me, and I in turn struggled to move my head away only to have
him tug on my chin to pull my face back toward him. “Seriously, who’d buy one
like that? The color of his eyes is petrifying.”
“Don’t look at them, then.” I growled, “In fact – if I’m not as good looking as
you thought, maybe you should just go find yourself someone prettier who would
have you, I would say your sister but she’s probably uglier than you are!” my
whole body was shaking by the time the last word left my mouth, this was not a
smart thing to say in the situation I was in but, I have done stupider things
in the past, and the satisfaction of seeing the shock on the guy’s face for a
couple of seconds was rewarding enough for me to not care for what would happen
next.
The slap I received was not unexpected, neither was the shove to the floor
which tore at both the fabric of my denim pants and the skin of my hands and
knees. As I fell and hardly stopped myself I managed to get a look at the other
people standing around, slowly forming a circle around me, getting closer to
me… only one didn’t, well – more than one really, but only he managed to
distract me from the group closing the distance around me.
The tall figure had blond hair with a color that reminded me of someone I saw
before, not someone that I wanted to remember – someone who’s the mere thought
of his face made my body shudder. Other that his hair though, he didn’t look
like that person at all. He did remind me of someone else though, but I
couldn’t put my finger on it at exactly that time, seeing how I was about to be
gang-raped in the middle of an alleyway. Something about it though… I found
myself staring at him for a few long moments from my spot on the floor, finding
his eyes which were blue – dark blue, a bit of green in them as well. It was a
color I have never seen yet I knew just what described it, a color like the
ocean – as tacky as that is. It was mesmerizing – less the color though, more
the indifferent expression in them as he watched quietly, not joining them as
they circled me.
My vision was soon cloaked by the body of the one I insulted before, his hand
reaching to grab my collar and drag me up to my knees, but not up to my feet.
His purpose was more than obvious to me and I struggled, grabbing on the hand
that held my collar and pulled at it to get my face to the desired position,
and I was helpless to get myself free, the stink of musk and sweat attacked my
nose as it was shoved to the crack between his thigh and crotch, the scent only
slightly dimmed by the fabric of his pants, and that those were coming down as
well soon became a fact as he hurried to unzip them, his actions were
accompanied by the cheers of his friends as he smiled and pushed my head
closer. “You smell that, bitch? Like that smell? Soon it’ll be all over you,
you stinking little whore.” He said, laughing when I growled through clenched
teeth, closing my eyes to shut the view of his cock hardening against my cheek,
the smell and the voices, that I couldn’t block out though. “Come on, you fag.
Take it in your mouth like a good little slut.” His voice was reduced to a
whisper that everyone around could actually still hear. I kept my mouth closed
and tried to struggle out of his grip again, frantically searching with my
newly opened eyes for some way out, some gap in the tight circle they kept
around us, there was a way. There must be a way.
He pulled me away from his crotch then, grabbing at my hair and forcing me to
raise my head and look at him. “Open you fucking mouth and take it.” He growled
and slapped me again. Normally I wouldn’t be bothered by such a thing, not even
whimper at this kind of pain. A slap was no rod of steel, I had suffered worse.
But now, something in his tone made my head spin and hurt, and my mouth opened
almost on order. The controller was activated and somehow, for some reason
unknown to me – it registered the words he said as an order, and I couldn’t
defy that. Tears came to my eyes as he shoved his member into my mouth and gave
a moan of satisfaction, earning cheers and yells from his companions, who
already started calling turns to use me after him.
The taste was one I thought I would never have to taste again, one of flesh,
dirt… humiliation. The helplessness of the situation I was in was very clear to
me, the lack of choice was always there and as usual there was nothing I could
do, nothing to release myself from the situation I was in. he gave a push with
his basin to get himself further into my throat.
It was too much – the taste and smell and the laughs and cheers – all of those
things I wanted to think I would never have to deal with again if I stayed with
Jack, it burned what little hope of a new kind of life I managed to collect the
past week, burned it into ashes. And
I gagged loudly around the flesh I my mouth, coughed until I managed to get
away and breath a bit, strands of saliva and his pre-cum were dripping from my
lips as I huffed quietly trying to get my breath back, thankfully he didn’t try
to pull me back to continue his violation of my mouth, what gave me besides a
few breathes of air – a chance to look around, faking an intense state of
horror I looked around at all of them, trying to find some weakness in the
formation of strongly built teens and youths. All of whom had a lusty face and
a hard-on raging in their pants. with the right kind of distraction I could
probably get one or two of them to move out of the way, make my escape through
the alley and hide until it was safe to go back to Jack’s apartment.
As the thought was forming in my mind, I was pulled from the floor once more –
this time by my hair in a way that felt as if it was all going to be plucked
off my scalp, I tried to keep my mouth closed again, not let him push his
disgusting flesh into my mouth once more – I had, as always – no success. His
pubic hair was soon tickling my nose as his length slid down my throat, his
hand holding my jaw so I would keep my mouth open. It was clear to me as well
as to the others that he was trying to inflict as much pain on me as possible,
a revenge for the things I said before, he was looking to see me humiliated;
ravishing was not enough, he wanted to see me cry and beg and ask for his
forgiveness. And I was not about to give him that.
What I was going to give him, though, was a vicious, scream worthy bite. And it
was no grazing my teeth on his skin type of bite. I was sinking my teeth into
the lump of flesh that filled my mouth until I could feel the taste of blood
trickling down my throat, and as his scream kept growing louder I still held on
like that, ignoring the hands that tried pulling me away from him, I was
waiting for my opportunity. In the meanwhile, until such a thing turned up I
was sure to enjoy the calls of pain coming from the mouth of my violator, the
knowledge that I was probably causing some damage – maybe enough to leave the
son of a bitch impotent forever or at least for a very long time gave me
condolence. Even if my plan did not work, at least none of them would dare try
using my mouth to get their kick.
I closed my eyes as my teeth clenched further into his flesh, the air around me
was full of his cries and the others… some shouts, some laughs. It all seemed
to be far away from me as I drew air through my nose to keep me from
suffocating on his cock.
“Get him the FUCK away from me!” he screamed, “He is biting it off! SHIT. Get
him AWAY!” I enjoyed his screams almost too much, relished on the tears of pain
in his eyes before one of the other youths managed to pull me away and throw me
sideways to get me away from the pained teen. No one else tried to grab me when
I started to raise to my feet, they were all too focused on him – his pain
either worrying or making them laugh. The circle was long broken now, scattered
and gathered around their injured comrade almost none of the teens were paying
me any attention.
I spit on the dark asphalt under my legs to get the taste of blood out of my
mouth. Seeing the bodily fluids, my saliva, his blood and semen smearing on it
made me sick to my stomach and I soon looked away and shut the picture away
from my mind and started running, avoiding hands of those who were in my way
and tried to catch me, ignoring the voices calling after me in fierce, maddened
anger. I ran, not paying attention where too, not giving heed to the objects in
my way be those people, cars or bumps in the road that I somehow, in some
miraculous way managed not to get hit by.
Something in my subconscious must have kept tabs on my way though, checking the
information that my brain sustained earlier from the controller to check that I
was going the right way, because soon enough I was standing in front of the
right building. The one I was not supposed to leave in the first place. I was
home, I was safe.
I bit my lip, and the tears I kept inside from the moment I’d gone out, through
the incident with the group and up until that moment started soaring out
uncontrollably along with cries and whimpers. I was home.
Chapter End Notes
     Oh Eros you silly boy :-( don't worry, it'll get better.
     .
     .
     .
     MAYBE.
     Hoping to get the next chapter done faster than I did this one,
     please continue reading and commenting, you are great and I love you.
     :-)
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
I was brushing my teeth for about the fifth time by the time Jack came back, I
was trying almost too hard to get the taste of flesh, semen and blood out, the
smell did not leave my nose as well, only mingled with the minty smell of the
toothpaste and made me feel sick.
I kept myself aware to the sounds in the apartment, trying to determine over
the running water if I heard a door being opened or closed, listening for foot-
steps.   I couldn’t let Jack see me as I currently was – my eyes red and puffy
after crying for almost half an hour without break, staying so even after I
washed my face a couple of times, another thing I could not allow him to see,
not under any circumstance – was my face. Never mind the eyes – my cheek was
rapidly gaining the most swollen part of my body award, and as hard as it was
going to be to hide such a thing – I had to do it. I couldn’t let him know I
went out on my own, which at a later thought proved to be the stupidest thing I
done since being born – which was also a rather idiotic move. Too bad I didn’t
have a choice about that.
Just as I put down the brush – it’s bristles distorted by my frantic brushing
which had not even helped a bit with the taste – the sound of a door creaking
open came to my ears, and so I hurried to shed my clothes and head into the
shower – my best way to avoid Jack for the rest of the evening as well as
cleaning myself of the grime and dust that had accumulated on my skin and
clothes, and perhaps sooth the burning skin on my cheek, make the swelling go
away. I barely managed to turn on the water when I heard Jack call out to me,
and immediately turned them up, also turning them as hot as they could get,
which was like scalding fire on my skin, but also provided a thick screen of
evaporated water. Even if Jack came in now there was no way for him to see even
the shape of my body through the bath’s screens.  And that was good, because he
soon did come in the room, calling my name before opening the door.
“Hey, Eros? You’re in there?” he said, “turn off the water! Jeez, you filled
the whole room with steam.”
I sighed, turning the water down. “I’m here… I’ll be out soon.” I muttered,
wishing him to leave, just leave already. I turned on the water again as he
hummed his acceptance, low enough so that I could hear him telling to come eat
when I’m done, of course, with my cheek swollen and red like a tomato I was not
going to show Jack my face at least for a few days. So my reply was that I was
going to sleep, and that he should eat without me. He wasn’t too pleased with
that, but beside the unsatisfied groan he gave, he left the room with no more
talking.
I was in the bath for about half an hour more after that, scrubbing each and
every inch of skin as hard as I could, even the parts where I was not touched
at all. I was defiled by those youths in a way I had the nerve of thinking I
would not ever need to experience again. I was naïve to think the scars and
bruises that still spotted my body all over will ever really disappear
completely instead of only fading into still reminders of my life, of what I
was.
I only considered myself finished with my shower when my skin turned numb to
the touch of the scalding hot water, and I got out of the shower as slowly as I
could, not really wishing to leave the screen of privacy between me and the
rest of the room.
I wrapped a bath-robe around me, tightening it to my body as much as I could
and tying it even tighter. It was soft and easy on my throbbing skin, long
enough to cover my scraped knees - at least those wounds in case were covered
in the case where Jack accidentally saw me on the short trip from the bathroom
to my room. I was covered in that aspect, my face was a different story.
It was clear just by looking in the mirror that the bruise that stayed after
the slaps I’d sustained was there to stay for at least another day or two or
ten; there was nothing I could to make it gone so my only other choice would
have had to be to avoid Jack as much as possible until it did disappear.
 
If I was ever so lucky, that is. And I never was a lucky boy.
 
I went to my room quickly after that, not stopping for a moment to check my
surrounding as I climbed to my bed and laid my head – the non-swollen side of
it on my soft, plush pillow, turned off the lights with a clap of my hands as
was shown to me by Jack on my first day there – unlike the Market that still
used switches, the apartment was completely computerized, which gave the option
to turn almost everything off and on by a clap or a click of my fingers or a
voice command, though that right remained with Jack and Isabelle.
It was still early, and normally I’d gone to sleep much later after eating,
perhaps having a relaxed conversation with Jack about his job, which I didn’t
really understand at all. He was an executive in a company he inherited but was
run by someone else entirely, so even at his young age and lack of experience
he had many different responsibilities... I never really listened to actually
understand what those were or what that company was about, and he never cared
to explain it further. The conversation would have rarely stayed on the matter,
and instead we would soon move on to talk about me day, about places he would
like to take me, foods he would like me to try. At times I thought he’d rather
be with me at home then go to work, or go out with me instead of Isabelle, some
part of me found it nice, the other was completely terrified by the thought and
constantly reminded me that I was his slave. Not his friend – certainly not his
lover. Just the one who kept his apartment clean, put out badly cooked meals on
the table… made small talks to keep him slightly entertained. I was nothing.
There was no talk to keep me awake this time, and a thought of perhaps watching
something on the T.V., though most of it was quite dumb and uninteresting, or
read a book, though my reading skills were a basic as knowing the letters, and
not even too well… the likeness of those thoughts were quickly dismissed by the
exhaustion that soon took over my body, and sleep wasn’t but a flicker of my
eyelids away. Sleep and… how could there not be – Nightmares that came with it.
 
My mother was a beautiful person.
She had a long, wavy auburn hair. She had brown eyes, not a boring brown like
chocolate or mud – her eyes were like Mahogany. They were light, shiny. So very
beautiful.
I inherited many of her features – the fair skin, the color and texture of my
hair, even the shape of my body was similar to hers, that’s despite me being a
male. Just one thing set us apart. My eyes had the shape and the color of my
father’s – turquoise. Unearthly and bright.
My father – how he looked I’d never known, she never told me anything and I had
a doubt, always lingering – that she knew how he looked herself.
I just knew this – when she looked in my eyes, hers would be filled with hurt
that I only learned the meaning of myself much later in life, a kind of hurt an
infant, a toddler and even a growing child could never understand – should
never understand. It was there only when she looked at me. Only when I was
there her voice would start shaking, her eyes blink in discomfort and her hands
tremble.
I’d never had much interaction with her.
As a child, from about the moment I could walk and talk well enough, I spent
most of my time outside the little house me and my mother lived in, along with
any suitor of my mother who was given her trust at the time. She was easy to
manipulate, sunken in her grief and self-pity she gave her trust to many people
who did not deserve it. Even I at the tender age of seven could distinguish an
asshole from a decent person with much more efficiency than her, but because we
barely talked there was no way for me to show it to her. So for a long time we
ended up with men who were abusive, verbally toward her, physically… mostly
toward me. For that reason I kept away. I had nothing to do with them but
living in the same house, even my food I got from stealing and going through
the trash, instead of getting it warm, on a plate. I spent most of my days in
the street, busying myself by finding places to hide and stray cats to play
with. I knew not to talk to strangers – it was the one thing my mother had ever
told me to do, the only thing to show that she cares, just a bit.
Stay away from strangers. Don’t let anyone touch you.
 
The next day had gone by… slow as a snail. I made sure to be awake much before
Jack and Isabelle got up from bed, made them both breakfast then hurried back
to my room before they came down to eat, the swelling still did not settle, and
I couldn’t allow myself to be seen by them the way I was.
And it wasn’t only the swelled bruise on my cheek or the puffiness of my eyes.
It was the bags under them, the lack of decent sleep which was void the moment
I started dreaming.
I never had dreams about her.
I could barely remember how she looked like, I knew the colors of her skin,
eyes and hair, I knew her shape, but everything was just a big blur when I
tried to see her face, or when I tried to remember her name.  Years of abuse
made me forget most of my early life as they were not really worth remembering.
If anything… forgetting all about ever having a family made bearing the change
from a free being into a slave easier – but not by much, not really.
I was wiping the webs of sleep from my eyes when I finally heard the doors
closing after my owners headed each to his and her own business, since I
finished most of my chores the day before I didn’t have a lot to do, so I
stayed cooped up in my own room for a while, eyeing the rows of books and
wondering if I would ever be able to read one. I reached the conclusion that
maybe sometime, but probably not today and finally headed out, realizing I have
not eaten a thing after returning from my little trip, and besides – they
probably left some dishes to be washed. I wanted to keep myself as busy as
possible, block out the dreams and the thoughts that flooded my mind, about
yesterday; about the past… it was all best ignored for now.
 
I was always told not to talk to strangers, not to let anyone I didn’t know
touch me in any way, not to be tempted by smiling façades of people who would
try to harm me. I followed those words of my mother to the latter, as they were
the only ones she’d ever talk to me. She had never followed them.
One after the other her suitors proved to be scums, looking only to take
advantage of her weak state of mind. They would humiliate her in unimaginable
ways, scam her for money she never had, convince her to take horrible
decisions. None of them stayed around for more than a few months, none but one.
This man was older than my mother by about ten or more years, and as opposed to
others who stayed with us before – he had money. He was not rich though, but he
was able to keep both my mother and me fed for a good number of years. He was
by far the nicest person she had ever brought to our home, a bit on the cranky
side but never violent or mean. At a first glance no one could ever guess the
man was rotten beyond all measure, that his only intention while seducing my
mother was merely his way of getting to a much more appreciated prize.
It wasn’t so late that we found out who he truly was, and what his purpose has
been. In fact, the was nothing much to ‘find’ because the man did not spare his
words when explaining to my mother what his job was, or the reason he came to
us in the first place. I listened from beyond a closed door, unaccounted by
both of them as the conversation carried on and on.
The man Worked for a place recently opened in the northern part of the city, he
was in charge of providing the place with information about potential consumers
of the service they were offering – and of people willing to provide the
service. They were willing to pay a big amount of money and my mother was
willing to listen.
“I know about you and your son.” The man declared after a long time of
explaining many things that I have not understood – and I doubt she did either
– “I know that even though he is yours, and is so much like you, and that even
though you love him so much – he brings you pain and agony, more than you can
endure.” his voice paused, and a stuttering mumble in the voice of my mother
was barely heard through the thin walls, followed by a pitiful little whimper.
“I know dearie, I know. That wasn’t your fault.” His voice was comforting as he
talked to my mother, soft like cotton. “there is no reason why you should be
the one with the responsibility to raise that beast’s child and relive that
nightmare every single time you look in his eyes.” My breath was stuck in my
throat by this point, my ear stuck against the wooden door in an attempt to
hear my mother’s reply. I knew of this myself, there was no hiding the feelings
she experienced while looking at me. But to have heard it in such a way, coming
out of the outsider’s mouth… somehow it hurt more. He made me want to get up on
my legs and go out, not hear anymore. But I stayed, a nine years old boy frozen
against the door, listening to things no one should hear about their own flesh
and blood.
There was a long silence after those words, then a sigh from the man, a few
steps around the room before he started talking again. “There’s nothing good in
keeping him here, not for you, certainly not for him. They will provide for
him, give him the care you cannot.”
She spoke then, her voice so faint that I couldn’t hear what she said, what she
asked him, but his voice was very strong when he answered her, persuasive. “He
will have a better life, he will have someone to take care of him – maybe a
family! Can you really deny him that? He will work for his living, like he
should… and you will finally be free to live your life. It will be better for
both of you.” The words he said were true – at least in a manner. Giving me, no
– selling me away to him would make her a free person, one who had money and
means to take care of herself, one who did not need to hurt over a thing that
happened so many years ago because of a reminder that kept giving her trouble.
“Give yourself time to think, the offer stands for an entire year so… so just
think about it.”
 
“Cleaning the same plate over and over again will not make it cleaner, Eros.
Even if I do appreciate your enthusiasm.” My heart skipped a beat, and then
froze over when I slowly turned to find Isabelle staring at me with her ice
cold eyes from the other side of the room, her hand on the handle of the
kitchen door. “Don’t let me disturb you with what-ever you were thinking about,
only – when you’re done thinking on things that are obviously unrelated to the
work you’re supposed to be doing, I shall require your presence in the living
room.” she left the room with her voice turning flat and a frown showing on her
lips, not leaving me time to respond.
I turned back to look at the dishes remaining in the sink, not many, just
another plate and a few glasses, one coffee cup and that was it. It wasn’t much
and I could finish in a few moments if I wanted, going to the living room and
facing Isabelle with her always unpleased attitude was not one of my most
urgent needs right now, but not obeying her and not coming over as soon as
possible was also not on the top of my preferences.
I left the dishes in the sink and slowly walked to the door which I opened very
very slowly and only slightly peeked through into the vast dining room. Taking
a breath before coming out and finally heading to the living room.
There wasn’t really anything to do now, was there? Isabelle saw the bruise, and
explaining it was the exact thing I could not to – not honestly, and no excuse
I could think of was believable even to myself.
I sighed, a decision forming in my mind to just get this over with. While
Isabelle was not the nicest person around, she was not a bad person. I guessed
telling her the truth might not be that bad, maybe she will agree not to tell
Jack…
 
“Miss…” I said as I entered her sight, lowering my head and averting my eyes
from hers. “I thought you were going to work…” I said quietly when she didn’t
respond, trying my best not to let her see my cheek as her eyes pierced me and
yet she didn’t say a thing – this unnerved me and I turned my gaze to her eyes.
Her lips were pursed as she got up, slowly her shoes tapped on the floor as she
walked toward me, eventually stopping just before me. Without talking or
answering to my inquiry she raised her hand and trailed the skin of my neck
until her fingers were on my jaw, her colored fingernails – sharp and long as
they were stabbed it when she held onto me and made me look up at her, soon one
finger travelled to my lower lip, touched a small cut that I probably received
with one of the slaps. I tensed up under her touch, her finger moving over the
swollen cheek, feeling the texture of the bruise on my skin.
“You went outside.” she eventually said, releasing my head from her grip and
putting her hand on my shoulder instead. “This is highly unacceptable.” She
turned her back to me, walking back to her previous sit. “That bruise, did you
do anything to treat it correctly? Put any medical lotion on it?”
“I… uh… I didn’t.” the quiver in my voice did not agree to settle down, and the
cold feel of her fingers on my skin refused to leave me for a while as I looked
at her in silence, and she looked at me, and I finally realized she was
expecting something more. “I am sorry, I just… I finished early and I wanted to
go out just for a few moments-“ I tried not to sound to desperate, but
nonetheless, desperate was the exact description of what I was, “I am really
sorry, I really won’t do that again.” I whispered and lowered my head then.
“You can go outside if you wish.”
I raised my head, and the small smile decorating her red lips told that she was
expecting the surprised look my face held. “W-what?” I whispered, raising my
head a bit to look into her eyes “n-no, I’m not supposed to go outside, I
just…”
“You did it to check our boundaries. Eros, I understand.” She said, “This is
why I’m now telling you our boundaries, so you wouldn’t have to check them and
be punished when you cross one. You may go outside if that is what you wish,
personally I don’t see a reason you would want to do so on your own, but Jack
finds that going on walks might be good for you once in a while. However – you
must report to us when you do such a thing, and if something like that hideous
mark on your face occurs. We can’t have you walking around looking like that.
Do you understand?”
I nodded briefly, knowing there was a catch somewhere in her words, somehow my
gut burned with the feeling that she knew what happened to me, she knew why my
face looked like it did, she knew.
“Very good. Now, about your punishment.”
Her voice died down as I hissed at the word, “But you just said-“
She chuckled playfully. “Eros, You don’t expect me to let your adventures last
night go unattended? You did do something you thought you should not do without
asking for either my nor Jack’s permission, you went who knows where and got
wounded who knows how and when you came home you didn’t come to either of us
too tell us what happened!” her voice was louder and angrier now than I ever
heard it. “You did not prove yourself to be a very good slave so far.” She then
continued, “And I was willing to live with that because Jack appears to have
taken a certain liking to you, personally I never had any pets before and I
don’t care much for them, but Jack is a sensitive guy, he likes to bring the
strays into the house.”
The comparison to a dig made me grit my teeth a bit, not visibly – not enough
for her to notice. She continued to talk, going on and on telling me of things
I have done inappropriately or just not good enough for her crazy standards,
her rant continuing while I stood there wondering if the punishment was to
stand through the scold. Though I seriously doubted that.
“Don’t let that mind of yours wander off.” Isabelle said then, and I hurried to
look at her again, desperate to just leave the room soon, to stop hearing her
endless rants and complaints.
“I am sorry.” I said, lowering my head to show her the submission she was
after, “I will try to be better, please don’t punish me…” the monotone of my
voice was probably not pleasing her, it wasn’t too pleasing to myself either –
not the best way to stop her from talking and just let me go back to my chores.
“You know, Eros, there are ways to make you better if you want to be and if
not.” She huffed then, going over to the sofa to sit down, one long leg laid on
top of the other, and a sharp chin leaning on the back of a delicate yet strong
hand. She was looking at me for a while and I kept quiet, not very sure I knew
what it was she talked about, not very sure that I wanted to know – and then
very sure as she reached for the pocket of her jacket, picking out a small
device. I swallowed, trying to moisten my suddenly dry throat as she brought
the device to her lips, I closed my eyes as cold shivers overtook me with every
breath she let out near the device. My whole body at the mercy of her words –
that’s what it felt like.
“I-…” my voice caught in my throat for a moment, “Please… I will be better.” I
whispered, “Without that, there is no need… to use that.”
“Oh, but there is.” Isabelle said, and my mind was overwhelmed by her words
immediately. There’s a need. There is a need. “It’s a very useful little
gadget; Jack thinks we should only use it in case of an emergency, I think we
can use it to make you a better…”
“A better slave…” the groan leaves my mouth and I shake my head slightly. I
cover my eyes with my hand to hide the fear spreading in them, fear of things I
wanted to think would never be again. When I met Jack and Isabelle I thought I
rid of those fears, that they had nothing to do with my life anymore. Why was I
always wrong?
“Jack… Jack wouldn’t want this.” I desperately try, and the look she gives me
back is full of scorn, what do I know of what Jack wants? What does it even
matter? What matters is what Jack needs, and no one knows that better than her,
certainly not a scrawny little pet/slave picked up like a stray less than a
week ago. None of those words ever did come out of her mouth, but I could tell
it all from just her eyes, raging as she once again put the device against her
ruby-colored lips.
“Go and bring a Martini for me. With olive.” She says, “Make it good, Eros.”
I shudder, her words – my name, the command is shot into my mind and I barely
keep on my legs as I try to comprehend it, understand it. I don’t know what a
Martini is, I don’t know how to make one… and still my body just moves on its
own, my legs taking me to a big cabinet across the room, my hands picking out
just the correct bottles from the shelves and the right cocktail glass. It’s
not mind control, I am aware of my body’s movements, I am making them myself
and I am learning through it. And it hurts. Every moment of it hurts.
The controller is burning between clenched eyebrows, the back of my head
cracking under the pressure of the words shot onto it again and again, filling
it with imagery that I could not really see, instructions to follow. Doing it
hurts – not doing it will hurt even more. Not doing it will fry me off
completely.
“That is perfect!” she purrs after taking the first sip, she orders me to my
knees beside her legs, her hand taking a handful of my hair between her long
fingers and she plays with them with a strange sort of affection. “You will be
a much better pet from now on, won’t you?”
I want not to cry, I want not to taste blood as I bite my lower lip until the
cut on it opens again. But what I want is once again not within my reach…
“Look up.” She says, and this time her words are gentle, not invading my mind
like previously. They are said normally, without the device. I do it quickly,
blinking away the tears standing in my eyes. Her smile is a beautiful one, not
cruel – she wasn’t a cruel person.
Her hands moved from my hair to my chin, and she lifted it more as her other
hand opened a can of white cream that felt cold and soft against my cheek as
she slowly applied it to the bruised area, her other hand – still holding my
chin used one finger to wipe the blood from my fractured lip and chin. Isabelle
wasn’t a cruel person. She is doing what she is doing because she thinks she
knows what everyone around her needs. What Jack needs was me to be better, what
I needed was discipline so I can be better for him, what she needed was to
supply us with what we needed.
 
 
   
Chapter End Notes
     Eros was hurt by so many men in his life, but I guess salvation will
     not come from the other gender.
     Hope you enjoy this chapter, it's a bit all over the place I guess, I
     don't get it too much myself.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     WARNING: this chapter includes abuse, lots and lots of it.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
The day had gone by slowly. So very slow it was painful to look out of the
window and still see the light outside. I yearned for the creeping darkness
that was to start spreading around the sky at some time, signaling the end of
the long day that just refused to move along.
Isabelle relentless use of the controlling device was not helping much either,
if anything it was making it even harder, and the only reason I was able to
even stand on my legs right now – cringing with ache with every step, was
because she used it to make me dust the entire apartment under her watchful
eye. I wanted Jack to come back already, he was against it, right? He wasn’t
approving of what was going on…
“Jack will not be back for a couple of days.” Isabelle said when my eyes
wandered to the window for about the fifth time in an hour, “He had to go out
of the country, some business to take care of.” She smiled when I turned my
face to her, doe-eyed and a bit terrified as she chuckled and took a few steps
toward me. Her hand caressed my previously bruised cheek, now nearly clear of
any evidence that it was ever so thank to the medicinal cream she applied to it
earlier. I cringed under her hand.
“He didn’t tell me he was leaving…” I said quietly, dropping my gaze to the
floor when she chuckled like I just said the most ridiculous yet somehow cute
thing she ever heard, I despised when she did things like that – patronized me
with her conduct.
“Oh Eros, why would he?” her eyes are not smiling like her mouth is – or isn’t,
I’m not sure a condescending smirk is actually a smile, “You seem to keep
forgetting you are nothing more than a slave. Jack is too nice, thinking that
by being like that he can get you do your job better, but he is wrong. That
just is not the way to do this, you understand that as well, don’t you?”
I keep quiet, how could I comment about this? Truthfully? I couldn’t.
“I will make him see the right path, both of us will.” She finally said and
left me in the hall alone, and soon after she leaves a set of commands
concerning several spots she thought were not properly cleaned was shoved into
the back of my head, startling me before jump-starting my body into full
working-mode.
A few more days of this? I could barely see myself surviving the first day with
my sanity – and my legs - intact.
“Come here” The words hit me with an impact and dropping the dusting brush I
let my legs take me to Isabelle’s and Jack’s room, greeted with a smile from
the devilish blond beauty when I stopped just at the door, a mannerism that was
inflicted at me the same way as her other commands were. My eyes – even
focusing mainly on the floor, still wandered around the room until finally
stopping on a large luggage on the bed, slowly being filled with neatly folded
clothing. “Be a dear and bring me the black and the aqua shoes from the
closet.” She said, gesturing at the general direction of the massive door I
knew led to and even grander closet.
“You are not… staying?” I whispered, staying planted in my place even as pain
flooded my body, urging me to move my feet and go into the closet, and hurry
already—
“No, Of course not. I’m going to meet Jack, he needs me there.” She said,
giving me a glare when I did not move, “Eros, the shoes. Don’t keep me
waiting.”
“But- I mean, am… am I…?” I hesitated under her eyes, then took a deep breath
and the hesitation disappeared, “Am I coming too?”
“Don’t be funny.” Was all she said, sighing, “The shoes, boy.”
I cringe at the word and hurry to the closet, picking out a few pairs of shoes
and returning to her, keeping my face as clear of my disappointment as
possible, but the wondering and annoyance I couldn’t keep away too much. “So
you’re leaving me here, alone?” I asked with a bit of scorn in my voice – it
wasn’t too different from how it’s been since I came there, but that was barely
a week ago, and usually either Jack or her would be around in the evening,
being all alone, all the time… actually didn’t sound too bad when I thought
about it enough. Especially the part where she wouldn’t be there to order me
around like today, I would be able to rest and-
“I will be taking this with me, of course.” She said when she noticed my change
of face, lifting the device for me to see, and I moved my gaze back to the
floor, so she was leaving me as a doll to follow her distant commands? I would
be here alone, forced to do things until I can no longer stand. That was too
unfair.
I didn’t say a thing though, Isabelle didn’t like being argued with, and I
didn’t want to aggravate her further. Not with the risk of her working me to
death – she could do that.
“…I should go back to dusting.” I said eventually, waiting for her to nod at me
before running out of the room, actually doing as I said I would. If I did
everything she wanted me today perhaps she would leave me along during the next
few days, perhaps it will not be too bad. It wasn’t like I was one to laze
about and do nothing all day, I liked cleaning and cooking and actually doing
productive things – not when it was forced on me like it was today, but it was
preferable on sitting all day, waiting for something interesting, trying to be
interesting for the sake of men outside the glass tube…
I shook my head and grabbed a broomstick, starting to gather the almost
nonexistent dust from the floor. A quick glance out of the window now revealed
the start of twilight and I sighed quietly, night couldn’t come any sooner.
 
A suit case for a ten years old boy. A suit case full of money for a small,
thin ten years old boy. No more, no less.
Not a hug, a kiss – not a word, definitely not one of regret. Nothing but one
look from mahogany eyes – soon to be averted as she vanished into another room
and I was left there, his hand grasping my shoulder and his other holding the
heavy suitcase tighter than anyone ever held me.
Two people stand before us, one tall, his nose like the beak of a rooster and
his eyes small and black, the other… I entertained myself thinking how much he
looked like a potato. Everything about him resembled one big potato.
“So,” the tall one laid against the wall and lit a long, brown cigarette “What
did ya tell ‘er?” he said with the cigarette between his teeth, “don’t look
like the slut took this too hard, having her little brat taken away.” Their
words passed by my ears and beyond my attention as my gaze followed a line of
ants on the floor, and I was much more attentive to them than to those three
old, unpleasant men.
“That was really easy, he is the son of a guy who ‘raped’ her.” He smirked, his
hand loosening on my shoulder as I raised my head to look at him, I didn’t know
what they talked about, but I didn’t like them talking about her like that.
Whatever that was.
I moved away from him, walking toward the wall where I leaned and continued to
stare at the line of ants, observing how they lifted crumbs bigger than their
own bodies with no problem at all. The men did not give me any attention,
continuing on their conversation.
“So, what do you think will happen on the auction?”
“Ya know that it depends. Is he even fresh? You didn’t take a bite did ya?” the
rooster said with a frown, though he seemed to always have a frown plastered
all over his face, this one was deeper and devoid of any emotion.
“Of course I didn’t. And he is. He will be on the top, we will be on top.”  He
smiled and my body was attacked with a relentless chill at the tone he used –
the squawk of his voice as he laughed and grabbed my shoulder again, shoving me
into the hands of the men who tested each one of my graceless movements before
the rooster sighed and his hands landed each on one of my shoulders, looking at
my face silently. “We shall see if you’re right or not after the auction. Now,
what’s your name kid? Never mind, it wouldn’t matter in a few hours anyway.”
I opened my mouth just a bit, wanting to answer the man anyway. I didn’t like
being referred to as an object as those three were doing for the last hour;
however a gentle push toward the door kept me quiet and as the two men and me
were walking out, from the corner of my eye I could see that man – the one who
gave me, sold me away to them… he was not even looking at me, no. he was
opening the suitcase, his eyes gleaming at the sight waiting for him inside it.
I did not see her again either.
I did not see anything at all.
 
The ride passed slowly, silently, in the back of a big van with a bold logo
that had the word: Market in it, I didn’t know where I was going, and my
questions where each shot down by the potato-y companion who sat opposite of me
inside the van.
“Are we there yet?” I asked, I think for the fourth time since we left the
house I lived in, and that was merely five minutes before. I knew it would
annoy him, and I was glad for that. All I wanted was some attention, some
answer to some question. I had no idea where I was going, what was going to
happen – would it be like he said? Would I really get a family who would take
care of me? Was that place an orphanage? I told them I wasn’t an orphan and
they laughed at me, but said nothing at all.
The potato gave me an annoyed look. “No, stop asking that. Stop asking
questions at all stupid imp—“
“Don’t humor him.” The rooster said from the front seat, and the potato-man
gave me a despising look when I stared at him inquiringly.
“He is staring at me, fucking staring at me all the time.” He said with a frown
and I smiled at him, “A little prick, you sure I can’t just smack him? Just
once?” he said and got up, swaying toward me as the van took a rough turn.
“No, you can’t. Take it easy, he is gonna get what’s coming to him soon enough,
you know that.”
My eyes averted from the potato to the back of the front seat as I tried to
follow what he said, I then returned my eyes to the potato who rumbled under a
bushy mustache as he returned to his seat, none of them said anything further,
and I soon stopped asking questions, understanding they meant to ignore me the
rest of the way. I keep my mouth shut as well, my mind drifting off to
possibilities of where and what would happen when we get to the destination,
none of them close to the reality I would come to face in just a little while.
At last, the sky outside become a dark shade of purple, its twilight, and we
arrive.
“Get up” The rooster says, opening the van’s door he doesn’t wait for me to do
as asked before grabbing my arm and pulling me outside, keeping me stable
instead of letting me fall to my knees as would have happened if not for his
grip on me, I looked at him with hurt in my eyes and meant to complain about
the pain in my arm when he started forcefully pulling me away from the van, his
grip getting tighter the more I resisted so I stopped doing that soon – but the
grip did not slacken.
“Whe-where are you taking me?!” My voice squeaked, the idea of where I was
going – the promise of being taken care of given to my mother before… the
realization of the lie came as sudden to me as the use of force – they were
gentler when they took me from my mother, softer when I annoyed them in the
car… but now the ridiculous Rooster and Potato became much more intimidating,
strong and large men, and neither of them seemed to care when I fell and
scraped my knees, or when I cried that their grip hurt me, all they seemed to
care for was me keeping their pace, and I no longer wished to do that at all.
“Let go! Let me go!” I cried, and they ignored. “I want to go home! I want my
mom!” I cried out then, tears falling from my eyes as I was shoved against a
wall, my head receiving a hit from the concrete behind it and the men looked at
me from above, snorting when I whimpered in pain.
“Did you hear that? Now he wants his mommy.” The broader man said, laughing
with his toad like voice. “Guess what, kid? Your mommy sold you, she doesn’t
want you at all, and she never did.” He licked a parched lip, “That whore
doesn’t care about what happens to you, she didn’t care when we took you, did
she?”
The taller man grabbed my chin, his thumb pressing into my soft skin and forced
my glance up to be in line with his eyes. “…And you don’t care about her
either, do you?” he said quietly, “You didn’t pull those little acts before
when we took you from her, you didn’t mind being taken away – sold for money.
Did you? Behave now, we don’t want to hurt you more than necessary.”
I was pulled away from the wall again, my head hazy and hurting as I dragged
along behind them, my attention solely on the ground before me, trying to
ignore the thoughts popping in my head.
“Doc, we got the new one for you!” The voice of the tall man awoke me just as I
was forcefully thrown into a brightly lit room, I made no move to stop myself
and hit the floor with all the force of the man’s throw, that earned me a glare
from the two men which I attempted not to meet eyes with, cowering and
shivering under their observing eyes. “He is for the auction tonight so you
need to take care of him quickly, alright?”
“Again with the tight schedule? Couldn’t you bring him with yesterday’s batch?
I can manage this, but he will be out of it for most of the auction.” A voice
came from a side of the room that I couldn’t see, it was metallic and cold and
I shivered at the sound of it, getting up on all fours, then getting to my feet
I turned to look at the door, meeting the figures of the two men who brought me
there.
“Wh-what is an auction? What are you going to do to me?” I asked quietly, my
voice trembling as did the rest of my body. I wanted to get out of there, go
back to my mom – if she knew where they took me she would be sorry, surely she
would give up the money and take me back if I promised to be good, if I really
tried?
“Ease up on the meds then, you know the costumers like them awake.” The tall
man said, no one showed the intention of answering me at all. “Need us to do
anything before we go? We got two more pick-ups today. For the next auction
though, don’t worry.”
“No need, I can handle him.” The talking man came out of a side room in the
direction from where the voice came from and I haven’t seen from where I stood.
He was holding a small white case and wore all white himself, a coat, the
clothes under it as well as his hair were all white. He looked at me
thoughtfully and I’ve taken a few steps back, looking to the direction of the
door the two men left through.
“It’s locked. Stay still now.” He said when he saw my drifting gaze. He came
closer and I walked back, arriving to the wall next to the door, he stopped at
about half the room, a few large steps away from me. “Go on and try to go out
if you want, and after you do and have enough of useless things like this, get
here and take off your clothes.”
I raised my head slowly and looked at him cautiously; but he just stood there
and looked bored. This affirmed that he will not try to stop me, so I didn’t
hesitate at all attacking the handle on the door, pulling and pushing and doing
everything I could think of[דפ1] to move it from my way, the tears would not
leave my eyes as I hit it with my fists and kicked and screamed at him to let
me out, receiving no response at all beside the previous “Come here, take off
your clothes.”
I didn’t. I stayed where I was, my forehead against the door as were my
clenched fists, my tears fell to stain my pants and the floor as I mumbled
quietly about wanting to go home, even if I knew that not to be true, because I
knew that I had no home to go back to – I never had one.
The man was not patient with me any longer, as soon as I stopped throwing
useless punches in any direction he drew near, his shadow casted on me
intimidating as the creak of the opening lid of his little case was heard, I
didn’t move when he took one of my arms away from the door and straightened it
while holding it firmly in place – I did when I saw the needles and syringes in
the open case next to him.
The first needle was already in my skin when I pulled my arm and fell back, and
it almost tore my skin when I did so, only luck kept it in place when I cried
out and scurried to my feet, trying to pull it out and causing myself much
grief in the process.
“Idiot!” then man shouted at me, his white lab coat now stained with small
drops of red – blood, my blood. It was a view I was not ready to see, my mouth
dried and I became dizzy, falling on my knees as I again tried to pry the
needle out. “You’ll tear your vein, stop it.” The man said a little more
calmly, drawing near me again, “let me, I’ll get it out. I promise.”
He was above me soon, and then he was holding my arm, straightening it and
pulling out the needle. He cleaned the wound I created with a bit of cotton
before putting a Band-Aid on it then sat before me, trying to capture my view
with inquisitive eyes.
“You need to let me take a little blood.” He said, his voice was soft and calm,
but did nothing to sooth me and the feelings of pain shooting through my arm.
“Listen to me. I need your blood, I will take some of it some way or the other,
so decide now what you prefer – to be cooperative or have someone holding you
down? I assure you the first one is the less hurtful option.” He said quietly
holding out his hand for me to put my arm on, his other taking a new needle out
of the case. I hurled at the sight, my eyes expanding as I searched for some
way out, some way to escape.
“N-No… I d-d-don’t… Please…” my voice stuttered when he moved to take my arm,
“It hurts, I don’t wa-want…” I moved back to avoid him, but he caught up with
me with no problem.
“Just close your eyes.” The man said quietly and took my hand in his, “It’s a
small needle. It doesn’t hurt at all. Are you even a guy or a little girl?” he
mocked as the needle pierced my skin a second time and I yelped, not moving my
hand again though. I was not a little girl – and I was also too terrified to
try something like that again.
“Good boy. Stay still now.” He said quietly, he filled three tubes with my
blood, taping a small sticker on each of them before placing them in the case,
then he took the needle out and held a cotton ball on the tiny hole the needle
created, he told me to hold it there tightly until there was no more blood
coming out, and I did that while looking at him arranging his stuff – big iron
instruments, each more intimidating than the one next to it.
I gathered my courage – what little of it that I had and crawled closer to look
at the things more closely, trying to understand their shapes, their roles…
what he was going to do to me with them? He noticed me and a small smile slowly
snuck to his lips. He picked up a drill like device and with a click of a
switch turned it on, observing in delight when I tossed myself backward with
terror from the sight of it.
“You are right to be afraid, this is going to hurt a lot.” He said, turning off
the tool and putting it back to its place in the row of appliances. “And I
can’t give you any kind of pain medication, that’s an unfortunate deal for you.
It’s really going to be bad.”
I kept quiet even though all I wanted to do was sob, I felt weak after the
blood was taken from my body, my head light and my stomach churning with
sickness as he turned each device on then off, checking each of them to see
that they worked well, cleaned them and returned them to the line. My nausea
came to its peak when he finally turned to look at me and smiled, softly,
comfortingly smiled after saying all of the terrible things about causing me
pain, he didn’t look like he was sorry – not at all. His smile was neither one
of gloating or of repentance, just a smile.
It took a while before I was done – the entire contents of my stomach splayed
across the floor and on my lap, my eyes not able to stop shedding bitter tears
as I coughed out liquids that should never have left my body the way they did,
barely anything solid though.
“Good, you get everything out before we begin. Most do it during the treatment,
and it’s not such a delight…” he said and got up, he pulled out a small
handkerchief from his pocket and wiped my face with it, cleaning it from the
tears and puke and snot that amassed there and I sobbed quietly, the taste in
my mouth enough to make me cry and not very long after I did start to. I was
having a nightmare and I couldn’t wake up, I couldn’t escape… the man didn’t
care when I pulled away from him, when I tried to escape to the other side of
the room he did nothing to catch me simply because I just had nowhere to run.
Simply because I didn’t really have a choice. He knew his job would eventually
be done – his goal would be achieved one way or the other.
And so he simply waited for me to tire myself out – crying, screaming,
attempting to knock away his hands as they undressed my body from the dirty
rags my clothes became, escaping when he tried to cover my naked body with
something different. All of this led to me finally finding myself tiredly
heaving for air in the corner of the room, not able to struggle at all any
longer when his hands found my shoulders and forced me to lie down on my back
dazed and just barely conscious of my surroundings.
Something rubbery was shoved into my mouth, and after that… after that there
was pain. A surge of electricity, then a burn and stabs and pain. Pain that did
not go away. Pain that did not allow me to cry and not to scream through the
gag, my vision reduced to seeing only red and black and then nothing at all.
Losing my perception then waking up again by a new kind of pain that I did not
even know existed. I had no idea how long this was taking, or when have I
finally lost my ability to feel anything at all.
 
“He looks like crap. How do you expect to sell him like this?”
My eyes fluttered open, my cheek was glued to a cold floor, sticky from tears
and sweat and who knows what else… I was unable to raise my head as it felt
heavier than a boulder, my hands and legs refused to collaborate with me as
well and I groaned quietly because of an annoying itch in my forehead that I
couldn’t scratch, and the repulsive stickiness  I could not hope to wipe.
“You’d be surprised but enough sickos who come to those auctions would buy him
as is.” The calm voice of a man – the man who caused me all this pain, the man
who wore only white made my body jolt involuntarily, immediately to be swamped
with the same if not a bit vaguer version of the pain I felt before. The itch
also became much worse now. Everything was much worse now. I could now feel
each segment of my body – parts of it burning, others screaming their pain
while some were utterly numb or itched, tears started flowing again…
“Yuck. You serious about that? He looks like a corpse, and not one that died in
a pretty way.”  The man in white laughed - no, he was chuckling softly. “That’s
what bothering you? Not the fact that he is barely ten years old?” his voice
was a little less kind when he said the words, a little darker.
“If THAT bothered me I wouldn’t be working here. would I?” the other man said,
his voice closer to me now then it’s been the last time he talked, a little
less dimmer now that my ears stopped drumming constantly. “I guess it would be
horrible if it was my kid, but this--” a cry of pain I registered as mine made
me cringe when something I recognized as a thick boot sole attacked my waist. I
whimpered and my body folded painfully to protect itself from the rough
treatment, my eyes refused to open still. “-This one is nothing but a rat the
sewers spat out. His own mother doesn’t care, why should any of us?”
There was silence around there – beside my own sobs and little sounds of
sniffling my nose and trying to withhold my tears, no one was making a sound
for a very long time, long time that could be just a few minutes or maybe hours
– I didn’t know.
Eventually the silence was broken with a deep throated sigh. The man who
previously kicked me now stood above my body, his eyes going up and down,
examining my folded, shrunken and shivering form before he reached down to grab
my arm, pulling me up to my feet and not bothering with tenderness at all. Not
a word was said when I was made to tread through a door, my legs failing me
with every step I took, twisting painfully and itching from the numbness now
slowly fading away. I felt sick again, my head in a turbulence of
unintelligible thoughts and my stomach churning angrily.
“Only an hour to prepare you before the auction… I wonder what the hell they
were thinking.” Again with the auction, I couldn’t comprehend the word, I never
heard it before in my life yet now it seemed to make my panic rise a few levels
with every time it’s been said, they had to prepare me, but for what? What else
were they going to do to me?
 
 Salty, bitter tears flowed down my cheeks as I sat in my bed, the first rays
of sunlight were picking through the window when my nightmare managed to win
over my exhaustion and wake me up – sweaty, dim pain rolling through my body as
I sat there still, half covered by my thin duvet.
The whole experience was just too real, just the same as seven years ago –
every ounce of pain recreated perfectly by my mind. My hand wandered
unconsciously to my forehead, tracking the edges of the red stone.
I wanted to scream – I could. There was nobody home, Isabelle left the night
before to be with Jack, I was all alone, free to do as I wanted, and I wanted
to scream as loudly as humanly possible.
So that is exactly what I did.
 

 
Chapter End Notes
     This is kind of sad - I enjoy writing Eros's past much more then the
     actual story.
     also, I'm a sick person and need to be locked up for doing this to a
     ten years old. even if he is my character and not even real at all.
     Bad me. Bad!
     :(
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     This took way too long, sorry guys :
See the end of the chapter for more notes
My scream lasted for a long time, more than I had considered when I gathered my
breath before letting it out, it ended with a hurtful cough and tears that
burned in my eyes for a few minutes after the fact. And it was not enough, and
I knew it would never be enough.
I will never be able to let out the amount of physical pain, of hurtful
memories no matter how much I scream or cry or do anything of the sort. I will
forever be burdened with it. The first ten years of my life were partly erased
to give way to the last seven, and those were seared into my mind, bonded with
my skin just like the controller was, impairing every cell in my body countless
times. There was no way of fixing that. No way to be free.
I blinked away the agonizing tears, wiping their trails from my cheeks as I
slowly got up. It was too early in the morning to do anything, and the place
was perfectly clean as Isabelle made sure of before she left to meet with Jack
in a place unknown. There was nothing for me to do, nothing but stare blankly
at the image of my form on the one mirror in the room right in front of my
eyes.
If I had to describe myself, I’d say I haven’t changed much from the half-dead
ten years old boy they sold at the auction seven years ago, older, a bit
fuller, and healthier. Other than that the wonder was still in my head –
whoever would want to buy a thing like me? Who were the sick men at that
auction who thought I had good enough look to be considered attractive? Sure I
was much better looking than any of the buyers, none of them had the actual
right to patronize me over looks – but I was not attractive. The image I saw in
the mirror was one of a broken being, cursed with a strange coloring to my eyes
and hair and skin.
My thoughts immediately wondered to Jack. He was not a psycho, at least not by
what I could tell in the short period I had stayed with him. Isabelle was a bit
on the insane side, but it wasn’t her who chose me, it was him.
And he was a simple, normal man.
And he chose me.
The sting of the tears returned to my eyes when I realized that I missed him –
his kind words, his carefree attitude and the way he carefully defended me
against Isabelle while considering his own words to not make her angrier, the
way he would pull his shoulders in dismissal when she got angry anyway, smiled
at me and went after her when she left the room. You could see he adored her
through and despite the anger tantrums, I could only hope to be adored by
someone this way myself.
Not by him though – I wouldn’t let myself be deluded by my fantasies. He liked
me, but from this to actually be adored by him, from being a slave to becoming
something more – even being a friend to him seemed far-fetched and nearly
impossible.
I smiled to myself finally, my eyes in the mirror seemed a bit darker than
usual when I started to change my clothes, regretting halfway when I discovered
the stress of the dream did leave me drenched and grimy with sweat, not in a
state suitable for actually getting dressed in clean, new clothes.
To the shower it was, then.
I made the walk to the bathroom only covered by a towel from my waist down, my
exposed body chilling as refrigerated air was emitted from the ventilation and
hitting my naked skin, chilling and helping the hot waves that ran through
since I woke up subside. It was soothing, and for the first time in years I was
able to let myself enjoy the feeling of air on my skin, not hot and
suffocating, not freezing to the point of frostbites forming.
My bath was just as enjoyable if not even more, I was not in a hurry, not
tensed over how long I was supposed to be there, how much use of the hot water
I was allowed. I had no time limit, and the water felt as good as I cleansed
the sweat and grime, shampooed my hair until it was soft and clean, silky to
the touch. I allowed myself to fill the tub with warm water and soothing oils
that I found in the room and sink into them covering my whole body up to my
chin– no one used that bathroom unit but me, Derek and Isabelle had their own
unit in their room and so I concluded everything in the room was for my use, no
one told me otherwise since I got there.
 I spent a long time in the tub, closing my eyes and letting myself sink into a
dreamless haze until the water grew cold and my body numb, when I came out the
cool air made me shudder slightly and I hurried to cover myself with the towel
again – a different towel, a clean and fluffy bath-robe that covered my whole
body.
My muscles ceased to ache from the hard work I’ve been doing the last few days
and when I sneaked a peek at the mirror once again my shape did not seem as
miserable as it was before. I managed to smile – the corners of my lips curving
upwards in a genuine smile, the kind I could not muster for a long time now.
Letting that scream out also cleared some of the stress I’ve been experiencing
over the last week, and that had amassed further to unhealthy levels after my
unpleasant meeting in the street. Honestly, if someone ever deserved to have a
day off – it was obviously me.
Isabelle have not contacted me through the controller as I’d expected her to,
and Jack have not made any attempt to contact me since he left either, I
suppose he was busy, or maybe he was mad at me for not talking to him the day
before he left – maybe he was upset with me, maybe Isabelle told him what she
found out and that was the reason – No, no. I shouldn’t be thinking about him –
I had no reason to. I wiped a wild tear that burned at the corner of my eye and
headed toward the living room, still naked under the bathrobe. Putting on
clothes was normally something I wanted to do, something that gave a sense of
safety as opposed to being naked which never seemed to be a positive state for
me, clothes were a hiding place from prying eyes. But today no one was there to
bother me, no one was there to look at me and consume the view of my body like
they starved for it – I didn’t have to conceal myself or feel uncomfortable
when I was all on my own – correct? The bathrobe was enough coverage, and it
also felt so soft and good on my still damp skin – I just didn’t care to switch
out of it now.
I soon returned to my hazed state, staring at the white ceiling as I sat on the
couch, not thinking or day-dreaming or doing anything at all, I might have been
napping with my eyes open because time passed and I didn’t even noticed when I
was no longer seating, when my head laid down again the leather cushion
–slightly sticking to it, clammy as my cheek still was from the bath, when my
eyes closed and when I finally fell asleep again, this time dreamless and
timeless.
 
I didn’t sleep for long. I know because when I woke my hair was still wet, the
rest of my body still not completely dry. At first I wasn’t sure what woke me
with my head still out-of-focus and foggy, I felt light-headed – just as if I’d
been drugged like they used to do in the Market, unable to fathom the sight my
eyes saw or the smells or sounds, at first everything was jumbled and the only
thing I did know was that I could smell something like smoke – but with a weird
sort of after-taste to it. Something about it was not right. The headache I got
when getting up too fast – that also wasn’t quite right.
Sounds of laughter surrounded me, excruciatingly similar. Voices talking around
me made the ache in my head even more unbearable. It could be pleasant to wake
up and find it all to be just another bad dream, it was better than this having
to be reality – I dreaded what I might see if and when my eyesight returned to
my eyes, or of what I might hear once the voices stopped mingling in my mind.
One voice did seem to be stronger than the others and I focused all my strength
to hear its words.
 “Guess he worked really hard – I found him passed out on the couch - Ha. Yeah.
Really cute.” The voice said, and a shudder passed through me, knowing he was
talking about me. “Yeah, sure Jack. I’ll take care of him. You don’t have to
worry.” The mystery voice was talking to Jack, whoever it was, Jack knew him,
Jack knew he was here at the apartment and it didn’t sound like it bothered him
at all. The other voices were laughing all around, the smell of smoke grew
stronger. “Thanks again for letting me stay here, I really appreciate that. You
don’t mind me having people over right? I promise not to let them make a mess.”
He chuckled under his breath, the sound of laugher was multiplied. My eyesight
was finally starting to sharpen again. “You are the best! Tell Izzy I send my
love.”
BEEP.
All at once my senses returned to function normally, all at once the voices
found their owners faces – three of them standing around the room, a forth
seating by my head and staring down at me with an almost maniacal smile and
another – standing just a few meters away, holding a cell-phone in his hand and
looking right at me. I was frozen in place. My headache seemed to triple in
strength and I couldn’t.  Simply couldn’t wrap my mind around the horrible
situation I seemed to wake up into.
There was no mistake about it at all, those people surrounding me now were the
same ones doing it that day in the street, there were a lot less of them now,
and the one who assaulted me was not between them. The only person I truly
recognized was the one holding the phone – the one who spoke to Jack in such a
familiar tone was the same blond who just stood still as I passed by him in my
successful escape, once bland his face now bared a smirk as his eyes traveled
around the room, once or twice stopping on me as he sled his phone into his
pocket. With not another word, and the smirk still hanging on his lips he
slowly went to exit the room, only stopping at the door for a moment, turning
and looking around again.
“I’m going to organize my stuff, make yourselves at home.” He said, at the end
of the speech his deep blue eyes were on my somehow still yet awfully shivering
form, he lingered when my eyes met his, his smirk faded and he turned again
leaving the room and disappearing.
I felt the weight of the person sitting next to my head shift as he got up, my
body was still refusing to move as I wanted – my head so dizzy and my mind
confused as I pondered on what escape route I could use, if at all, to get out
of this situation. There wasn’t a place I could hide from them when they were
in my home. They were in my home and I was trapped here with them. I closed my
eyes tightly, mutely wishing it all to be just a bad dream, just another
horrible dream. My body folded into itself because I could still hear them
cackling and laughing and talking quietly between themselves.
“Hey, hey, look – the sleeping beauty is finally getting up.” One of them
croaked out when I dared finally to sit up and look at them, they were standing
around the room, one of them was smoking – hence the horrible smell of smoke
that made my head go dizzy when I inhaled it, coughing it out right away. I
looked at them with teary eyes, getting to my feet slowly enough to not get too
giddy. The smoker dusted his cigarette butt on the floor I worked so hard to
clean perfectly to Isabelle’s satisfaction the day before.
“Don’t do that!” my voice surprised me, I didn’t know I could collect enough
valor to actually say anything to the thugs who found their way into the only
safe place I had in the world. I bit my lip and stood there staring at them
anxiously, they didn’t say a thing and their smiles remained predatory and
horrible as before. The smoker once again dusted his cigarette and I shrieked
as the ash fell on the pristine floor. “Stop that! I-” I gulped, their eyes on
me did not waver, did not move. “I… I don’t know who you think you are, coming
here – this is not your home to do what you please in! Get out!”
The smoker looked at me, he smirked and then threw what was left of his
cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. He chuckled darkly. “Look, guys. He
got the same spunk as the other day at the street. Still forgets he is just a
little slave.” He said, “”You should really clean that mess, slave, your owner
will get angry.” He gestured at the ashes and the crushed butt on the floor,
and smiled at his friends knowingly.
 I felt enraged at the sight, and also completely helpless. I looked at him, my
eyes steadily studying his form as I debated myself on the matter of obeying or
running away. Was there even a chance of running away? Not with all the others
around, not when I had nowhere to run to.
I couldn’t just leave the ash on the floor, either. Isabelle would be furious
if it left a mark.
“Fine.” I muttered and moved to walk past him, meaning to go to a supply closet
in the corridor. Instead my arm was grabbed, fingers digging through my skin as
I was forced to stop walking.
“Where exactly do you think you are going?” he said with a smile I found was
grossing me out, and when I answered him that I was going to get cleaning
supplies, the smile only grew bigger. More disturbing. “No, no.” I didn’t look
at him, my eyes lingering on the floor. His hand moved above the sleeve of my
bathrobe, moving it around and pulling at it, I moved impulsively to grab the
material and hold it closed over my chest, not counting on it to remain closed
if the tugging continued. “You need to clean it… but you’re going to do that
without a broom.”
I released my hand from his grab and stepped backwards moving my sight to the
little pile of ash on the floor. I was very aware of my nakedness under the
robe when he took a step toward me, looked at the pile too and stepped on it,
smearing the ash all over the once clean floor so it could not be gathered
easily – but had to be wiped off.
“Oh boy, now you can’t possibly clean that up bare handed.” Someone behind me
snickered loudly and I grimace and moved further away. “Yeah, you need
something like a wet rag, but where can you possibly find one?” another
joyfully added, and my hold of the bathrobe strengthened slightly, I caught
their drift and didn’t like it at all, less so when one of the grabbed the back
of the robe and pulled it out of my hold, throwing it on the floor with a look
of triumph in his eyes. “Good thing you had one already.”
I stayed still, my breathes hitching as cold waves passed through my body, the
cool air making shivers run up and down my spine when it touched my now naked,
damp skin. I stared at the material at my feet soundlessly. “I…” swallowing a
small lump that stuck in my throat. My hands circled my chest tightly and I
shut my eyes tightly, feeling tears stabbing at the corners of my eyes. Now I
was bare, nothing shielding me from their eyes – from the laughs and wounding
remarks.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” the same one who took away my protection
said, his hand now resting on my back, on my spine. He was pushing me slightly.
“Get on your knees and clean up the mess…” his voice whispered, a wave of warm
air hit my nape when he leaned over me, slowly pushing me down to my knees with
no resistance on my part. Was I in shock? I picked the soft fabric and fondled
it between my fingers, looking at the smudge of ash on the floor. The hand left
my back, but the feeling of it did not, I was shivering from the cold, disgust
and embarrassment, my hand clutching into the soft baric, pulling it subtly to
cover my exposed front, my face turned down, hidden by moist bangs of hair.
A loud thud caused my eyes to snap up and watch as the blonde who spoke on the
phone with Jack what now seemed like hours ago had come back into the room,
holding in his hand a big bottle of clear liquid and a pack of six bottles I
recognized as beer – Jack let me taste it one time, and laughed at me for hours
after I discovered I couldn’t even swallow the disgusting drink, saying I was
probably too young to appreciate the taste. My eyes moved to the face of the
blonde youth, capturing his eyes – dark blue, clear and fierce – for a whole
long minute. He wasn’t smiling or frowning, his face was blank as he orderly
arranged the bottles on a small table, grabbed the larger one and went to sit
on the couch I was sleeping on before.
“I told you to feel at home, not make a damn mess.” He remarked as he opened
the bottle, and the strong smell of alcohol filled the room. “Its fine, he is
going to move his pretty ass and clean it up.” Someone answered him, another
bottle was opened and the sound of the liquid going down someones throat was
heard perfectly clear in my ears, “His ass IS pretty, are you sure he’s
actually a ‘He’?” they all chuckled around me and I tried to block their
voices, just concentrate on my task and then on getting away from the room.
The blonde was looking at me, holding the clear bottle in his hand.
“He is, you saw yourself. Though we could take another look, just to make
sure…” someone mused and I saw a shadow on the floor before me when a hand came
to snatch the bathrobe from my hands, I kept holding on to it for a short while
but let go easily enough with a helpless whimper, struggling was not doing me
any good.
“What do you know…? Guess it’s a good thing we’re getting wasted then. Can’t
bang a guy sober.”   
My breath hitched again at the words, and fastened to the point of
hyperventilation. As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself – I was
panicking. Every fiber of my being was scared of them and their plans for me.
I closed my eyes again, my lips quivering as I remained still in my position on
the floor, wanting them to disappear, wanting Jack to come back – rescue me –
save me, wanting them to just get on with it already, just wanting it to be
over.
 
  
Chapter End Notes
     Eros just can't get a break. :(
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     Wow, so sorry for the delayed updating!
     Lately I was more focused on drawing then writing, and did not have
     much time to do either.
     I hope you like this chapter. it was hard to write, I think I had at
     least four different versions of it, haha.
 
 
There still was filth on the floor. My eyes clung to it, needy and wanting it
to be nearer, for the gap between the smudge on the floor and myself to stop
growing as a hand pulled at my wrist and guided me, or rather pushed me back
toward the sofa.
 
Naked, forsaken of any kind of cover against their view and burned out of will
to fight – knowing that where there was alcohol, and much of it as it seemed,
violence would soon follow at the first sign of struggle on my part. I had no
intention of laying quietly and letting them do whatever they wanted to my
body. That was out of the question. But until I could come up with a plan,
something to give me a chance of escape – I had to stay put, let them laugh and
howl like hungry wolves at the sight, let them imagine their claws sink into my
flesh.
I can run – I will run, the moment a chance presented itself I will ru-
One of them started opening his belt, fondling the buckle until it gave and he
resumed to taking the belt off his pants, pulling it slowly, excruciatingly so.
I was forced to climb the sofa and sit on my knees in a very uncomfortable
position, one that resembled what the Slaves offered for sale in the Marked
were forced sit like all day long, I cringed, lifting my head to look at the
belt holder, who now, to my dismay – had two more belts held in his hands.
Once I saw that my whole plan burst into flames. I stared as he came closer,
too shocked to make a move at first, my lips forming words of rejection that I
could not produce from my throat, choking and gagging before starting at long
last to struggle against the hands that handled me, finally starting to scream
at them to let go when both my hands were grabbed forcefully and wrapped with
one of the belts, forearms joined with wrists and wrist joined together to make
sure I couldn’t move them at all before moving to my legs, doing the same with
them.
“Secure them really tight, he doesn’t need to move.” My eyes burned with tears
as I half buried my head within the cushion of the sofa, my cries muffled into
almost silent, desperate whispers and moans, half begging them to let me go,
half muttering unintelligible things even I couldn’t understand. My eyes were
frantic – moving through the room in search of something, someone who’d help me
get away. Moving from one youth to the other, I halted on the blonde, who stood
with his back turned to me he took another gulp of the clear liquid from the
bottle in his hand before turning to look at me, and when he did, for a moment
I could swear there was a hint of pity in his dark eyes, but that disappeared
quickly as he approached.
“P-please! Don’t let them!” I blurted, almost biting on my tongue as I
struggled to move my bound limbs, “Please, Please…” I begged, and the pity
returned to his eyes for just another moment.
“I get him first.” He suddenly declared, and I winced – knowing I misunderstood
whatever I saw in his eyes, it wasn’t pity – perhaps it was just lust, or maybe
there was nothing there at all. The others let out disappointed sounds, but not
much objection to his claim. They moved away, only one person remaining to hold
me in place as the blonde approached, and he soon dismissed him as well,
telling him he could handle me on his own.
I whimpered as a cold hand moved over my waist, fingers pinching and pressing
into my skin with a purpose of leaving a mark just before turning me to my
side, another hand grabbed my thigh and drew it away from my other one,
spreading my legs this way as far apart as they could go.
He looked at me. Didn’t move or speak, just observed my body up and down, eyes
lingering on parts of my body that I didn’t want anyone seeing ever again, his
hand rested on my shoulder and stroked my skin surprisingly softly as he leaned
over me, bringing his mouth to my ear. “Relax…” his voice was soft and his
breath was warm on my skin, his hand moved to my chin and held it between two
fingers, pulling it up so I would face him. I closed my eyes, moved my head
away in resentment. How could I relax, knowing that when he is done the others
would not waste a moment before raping me over and over again? How was I
supposed to relax?!
His hand moved over my lips, brushing them softly with his thumb before moving
it down to my chest, tracing the subtle lines of it down to my stomach and onto
my thighs, gently caressing the skin as his hands moved to my crotch,
triggering an involuntary jump from my body. I shuddered under him, one of his
hand coaxing my length, massaging and stroking in attempt to rouse it. He
didn’t do anything else but this.
“I told you to relax…” he said when my body remained unresponsive to his touch,
“try to at enjoy it for now, it’s better for you if you do.” I kept quiet,
stayed with both eyes closed straining to keep myself from getting hard. The
effort paid.
“What are you doing there?” I was struck with a tremor at the voice, opening my
eyes to stare straight at the ceiling, “Just do it already, so we can all have
a turn.” The tremor strengthened and my vision became blurry with tears.
“Is it them? Ignore them.” He whispered on my ear again, ignoring the shouts of
impatience from the others. “Don’t think about it.” His hand continued at its
hard work, stroking and teasing my still flaccid member. “I- I can’t…” my voice
broke down when I caught sight of his eyes, he looked bothered by his
unsuccessful attempt to make me aroused – or by something else, I didn’t know
what it really was. But his discomfort was apparent.
“This is bullshit. Derek, if you are not fucking him…” the blonde was shoved
away from me by someone else, a much bigger person than he was, “then I’m gonna
do it. You can play your games after we are done.”
The blonde – or rather – Derek, looked at him and then back at me, his face
sour. “No.” he said, shoving the bigger guy away from my shrunken, terrified
form. I shrieked and averted my eyes when he stood before me, looking back at
me over his shoulder. “I changed my mind.”
A snort, loud and derogatory came out of some other guy’s mouth, “You can’t
change your mind, Derek, that’s not how it works.” He came a bit closer, and my
throat felt like the voice of my whimpers was burning me from inside as they
came out. Derek’s back seemed to flinch as the others came closer, and the part
of his face I could see was angry, scary. “That little bitch owes us, it
belongs to your sister and that means it is also yours…” he paused for a
moment, looking back at his friends before his eyes came back to me, looking
with lust burning in his eyes. “You need to make it pay us back its debt.”
Shivering and tears pouring out of my eyes like rivers I barely managed to turn
to my side, burying my head in the cushions of the sofa, attempting to block
the noises as I felt a tug on my leg, I tried to move it when I felt fingers
wrap around it, I whined quietly into the fabric of the cushion struggling to
release myself and not succeeding at all.
And then, the tension of the belt on my thigh lessened, and the hand moved to
my other leg, moving up to my knee, then to my thigh again. I carefully raised
my head, allowing one of my eyes to open to see what was going on. Derek
crouched above me, his hand working on the belt’s buckle until it opened and
the belt fell off, only leaving a painful red-purple welt.
“You want him all to yourself, don’t you? Fucking selfish. You are going to pay
for what you’re doing, Derek.” They were angry, most of them looked at Derek
with burning eyes, and when my eyes laid on the others I flinched and returned
my head to its previous position, whining like a wounded kitten.
“Yeah, I’ll compensate you. Don’t worry.” He murmured, close to my ear. “Go
away. Now.” His weight soon went away, and with it the sound of footsteps
became dimmer as did the disappointed, angry voices of the teens as they left,
and the slam of the door when it closed behind them.
Slowly, breathing in and out heavily, only hearing myself in the silence that
was left in the room. I didn’t get up, even as I knew my legs were free, that I
could walk wherever I wanted, get away from there. But somehow, it seemed too
difficult.
A single pair of steps returned to the room, and a hand sled up my back to my
nape, going through my hair. “It’s okay, they are gone.” Derek voice was soft
next to my ear, and I raised my head again. “Relax, can you do that for me?”
his hand went through my hair to my forehead and back, wiping the sweat and the
tears when I shook my head a bit in denial.
“M-my hands…” I whimpered, “Please release my hands… let me go.” I was
terrified of him, even if he got them away from me, even if he was trying to
help right now – he was going to let them rape me. He was going to do it
himself. His breath still stunk from the alcohol the drank before… he moved his
hand the belt that still held my arms, fingers moving over the buckle for a
little while until he finally unlatched it and the belt fell to the floor next
to me. I observed him still standing, hovering over me through half closed
eyes, he was quietly regarding me from above for a few minutes before turning
and moving away, walking toward the open door to leave the room. My breaths
were shallow as I watched him from the corners of my eyes, my sight blurry and
teary so the only indication of him really leaving was when I heard the door
close behind him.
I collected as much air in my lungs as I could before releasing it all at once,
wiping the few tears my eyes still had in them with sore wrists before even
trying to move, I knew I was in for an incredible amount of pain when I at last
moved to put my legs, weak and shaky on the floor, gathering more air and
releasing it slowly before attempting to get up, I had to use the sofa as
support – still not quite able to stand as I attempted to move to the wall,
half standing and half laying my back on it, panting from effort and discarding
my attempt at breathing at a healthy rate.  I breathed in and swallowed the
air, unable to let it out. My legs still felt like they were going to collapse
under my weight and they still itched where the belts were wrapped around them,
but slowly the itch was going away, and I managed to push myself away from the
wall and over to the middle of the room, managing if only barely to keep myself
standing. Slowly, one tiny step after the other I took my wobbling, barely
self-aware body to my room, it was dark and I could barely find my bed as I
moved through it.
I was not going to sleep, I was not tired.
I just needed the reminder that no matter what, I was not just a slave – A
slave would not have his own room, his own bed. a slave would not have his own
book shelf with books – books that I couldn’t read, or a television – that I
would not watch, or so many clothes… that I did not pick.
Tears did not leave my eyes for a long while as I laid on the bed, over the
pillows and warm quilt, just staring at the gray ceiling, trying to block away
what had just happened, trying to make all the thoughts that haunted my mind to
go away so I could maybe finally get to sleep, and perhaps wake up in another
reality in which nothing of this ever happened.
 
‘You are not as ill-fated as you make yourself think.’ I buried my head deeper
into the pillow, my hands blocking whatever light that came in from the little
opening of the door. ‘You are actually quite lucky. Just think about it. Some
other slave is probably getting fucked right now by that fucked up toad-man,
another is bound up in a cold, completely empty basement… think of all of those
little kids who are getting their controller and those who will be sold off the
auction tonight. You have your own room, your own bed, you were not raped
today, and if you keep your masters happy with you, you never will be again.
You are lucky. You are so lucky. Stop crying, stop shivering. You are okay.’
Repeat, and repeat those word again. I’m lucky. I’m so lucky to be where I am,
so lucky to get out of the situation not harmed in any way – I WAS lucky. Yes.
I raised my head and inhaled deeply, my breath choked with tears and snot and
all the horrible thing that came with crying uncontrollably. I wiped my face
with my wrist, it was disgusting but preferable to doing it with the bed
sheets… I needed to wash my face, and actually every other part of my body as
well, I needed another bath. I was not scared to get out of the room again, I
was not terrified of the notion the Derek would change his mind and come after
me again, my legs were not, they were NOT shaking so terribly that I could
barely stand, and much less walk on them, I was fine, super.
 The shaking was just something in my mind.
So falling down to my knees as soon as I put my weight on my legs was not
supposed to happen.
I let out a pained cry, my knees felt like they were burnt and the touch of the
cold floor on my skin felt even worse, especially when I couldn’t get up and
back to the bed and had to let the strain on them release by changing my
position. I felt like I would have felt after being in the market, sitting in
the approved muscle-pulling position all day long, twenty-four hours a day for
two weeks, my feet were arranged in such a bizarre position and held in place
by the tight belts for so long – it was clear that some muscles were not quite
working right now, maybe they were damaged, maybe I would not be able to ever
walk again… would Jack keep a maimed slave? Of course he wouldn’t, it was too
much bother for someone he couldn’t really care for.
I stayed sprawled on the floor helplessly, only my head finding comfort on the
soft mattress of the bed and I stared at the ceiling, quiet and empty-headed,
not responding to the thumps of shoes meeting the floor coming closer to my
door, or the silent creak when the door opened, or to the good smell filling
the room as Derek came closer to my location and knelt next to me, I couldn’t
see his eyes, or the look on his face, I didn’t really want to either. He
placed a hot mug with an aromatic substance in it on the floor next to me and
sat down himself, crossing his legs.
“Drink it, it will make you feel better.” He said, whispered under his breath.
Neither of us was looking at the other, I didn’t move to take the mug, barely
moved my head the face the other way. “Listen, I know what had happened was
really bad, I’m not… I’m not trying to pretend it didn’t happen or something.”
He took a deep breath and moved into my sight-range. “But I’m also not going to
leave you alone to drown in your misery, so drink, now.” His tone was
commanding, like Isabelle’s. The more I considered it the more alike they
seemed, and as I looked at him now it was even more definite. He took my hand
and placed the hot cup in it, holding my hand steady so the liquid would not
spill by the shivering running through my entire body.
“If I drink it, will you leave me alone?” I whispered, “Go away…”
“No.” I raised my eyes, and for a few seconds we were staring at each other,
his blue eyes seemed even sharper than before and felt like if I stared at them
for too long – I will eventually drown. “I will leave you alone, for now. But I
am not going anywhere, I live here.” I moved my look the wall behind him, the
words he said not quite settling in my mind. He said he lives here, does he?
What does it mean? Am I really his slave now, too? I drank, the liquid was warm
and sweet, and it soothed my body slightly as it made way for my stomach, but I
couldn’t swallow more than two sips of the substance before putting it away.
For whatever reason it felt vile, like it couldn’t be good if it came from the
hands of this guy.
“All of it.” Derek put his hand on mine, preventing me from returning the mug
to its place on the floor.
“Why? What did you put in it?” I whispered, I felt better, my body felt
relaxed, the pain was still there but somewhat lessened. But I didn’t trust
this feeling of relaxation. What if it was to make me more compliant? More easy
to rouse? It must have been some kind of drug. “I d-don’t want to, go away.”
Derek hold of my hand strengthened, he brought it with the mug in my grasp to
my mouth again. “There’s nothing in it, you little fool. Just drink it and
relax.” He said and when I moved my head away sighed, annoyed, and took the mug
into his own hand, taking a few sips from it himself. “Here, look, no drugs or
poison or whatever you thought I could slip into it. It’s just tea. Now drink
the rest.” He shoved the mug back to my hands and I took it hesitantly, a drop
of tea was clinging to the edge of Derek’s lips, so it was clear that he did in
fact drink from the mug, he wouldn’t if there was something bad in it, would
he? I looked at the sweet smelling, dark liquid for a few more moments, and
took another sip. It was cooler than before, but the taste and the feeling of
it soothing my aching body was still there. It was a good feeling now that I
let myself indulge in it.
When I finished the drink to the last drop, my eyes wandered to Derek, who was
still kneeling next to me and examining my every move, I pushed the mug to his
hands and put any energy that I could muster into my hands in order to push
myself up from the floor and onto the bed, collapsing on it with a sigh.
I could hear Derek standing up as well, moving toward the door slowly, and then
stopping next to it. When I raised my head enough to see him I found him
staring back at me.
“Why?” the word escaped my mouth as we both looked at each other inquiringly.
He raised his eyebrow slightly but did not say a word. “Why did you change your
mind? Why did you stop?” my voice was steady but my body was trembling
violently. I didn’t know what I was doing, what I was saying. Why does it
matter? The important thing was he did change his mind, he did stop. The
important thing was – I was not violated by him further, I was not raped by the
group of pigs who were with him. Why does the reason even matter at all?
 
Derek smirked.
My heart momentarily stopped, and I was completely horrified.
“Why? Well…” he took the few steps between the door and the bed, treading
lazily, his stature straight and casual. I moved back, feeling my face heating
up and my eyes widen when he slowly climbed on the bed, moving to lean above
me, his arms and legs caging my body between them, his face looming above my
own. “It’s because what was said before they left, that I want you only for my
own…” his nose touched my own softly, his hand found way to my head, and played
with my hair. “Wanting to keep you just for myself… Eros, that is very much
true.” 
***** Chapter 10 *****
Chapter Notes
     Yay an update!
     that was much quicker than the last one, wasn't it?
     :)
The room was still and completely silent, nothing but my own rapidly beating
heart booming in my ears could be heard, my eyes and Derek’s collided in an
stare that could not be broken, I didn’t see the rest of his face, could not
see if he was smiling or bearing the indifferent appearance from before, just
his eyes were in my sight, not blinking, dark and blue and cold and resembling
the sky at a night with no stars. I was drowning. I could not breathe.
His lips were so close to mine. Almost touching. Not almost, I could feel them
just barely, warm on the edge of my own lips right before he moved away, and
the silence was broken.
None of us spoke as he left the room with not another look toward me, my heart
and breathes and the sounds of the outside – birds, cars, and people all
mingled into a horrible, loud mess – attacking my ears as soon as Derek was
gone and I at last was left alone.
I stayed in the same position, my hands stranded on either side of my body too
heavy to lift and move, I closed my eyes and took one long breath, trying to
shut out the noises and finally I turned over to my side, grabbing a pillow to
shove my head under when it all became too much to bear, shutting the noise out
but not regaining the silence from before, the complete lack of sound that I
needed right now.
What Derek said… my head hurt just thinking about the situation, much more when
I pondered the meaning of his words. He could have had me, right now. He could
just take what he wanted, he could do it now – he could have done it before,
when the rest were also there. Why didn’t he? Why did he come so close then
just go away?
Why did I even care?!
I groaned in frustration into the pillow, then screamed into it, just for the
heck of it. It wasn’t heard and I needed to get everything out of me. I didn’t
even care if Derek heard me, I didn’t care. I pulled the sheets over my head,
leaving myself in almost complete darkness and just laid there, empty headed,
eyes dry of tears and body limp and too heavy to consider movement. I had no
intention coming out of my small fort made with pillows and sheets, not until
Jack came back, not until I could feel secure again.
 
Too bad – there were a few more days before Jack would come back, and as
evening drew close I was getting hungry, and my aching head hinted that I was
getting dehydrated by not drinking since probably the day before.
I got up, feeling like I was stepping on knives from the first step until my
legs had woken up and got used to the idea of being used again. I got to my
closet and managed to find the biggest, buggiest shirt, one that would cover me
completely from prying eyes, it even had a hood. I picked a pair of pajama
pants as well, it was warm, and felt nice to finally be dressed and not as
exposed as I was before. I pulled the hood over my head before heading out of
my room, threading slowly toward the kitchen meaning to make myself a light
meal before a delicious smell attacked my nose – from the living room, rather
than the kitchen.
Deciding to ignore it and the loud music now coming from the same direction I
continued heading for the kitchen, I had no intent to go and see what Derek was
doing in the living room – I had no intention of seeing him again at all,
certainly not the moment I entered the kitchen.
He was there though, standing with his back turned to me while he rummaged the
fridge. He didn’t notice me yet and I considered just going back to my room
before he turned and found me standing at the entrance, as was happening right
then.
“You finally got up?” Derek looked at me, his face clear of any emotion. I
nodded cautiously, ready to turn on my steps and run back to my room on any
unexpected move on his part “great, help me carry those to the living room.” He
put the bottles of soft-drinks and alcohol on one of the counters and went to
go through the cabins above them, getting a few glasses, two normal ones and
two really small ones. I stayed in my place watching him, did I have to do what
he told me? He said he is living here, but that doesn’t mean he can give me
orders, only Jack could do that… and Isabelle with that vile machine…
“You have more visitors?” I murmured as we each picked up a few bottles and
glasses and headed to the living room. Derek smiled at me, “nice to hear you
talk, finally. No, it’s just us. I ordered pizza and thought we should watch a
movie, now that you’re up you’re going to join me.” We put the bottles on the
coffee table next to large cardboard box with a steaming, delicious looking
pizza laying inside it and Derek went to sit on the sofa, the same one I almost
got raped on by him.
I stood still, watched him as he opened a beer bottle and poured its content
into two glasses, he sat cross-legged on the sofa and didn’t even look toward
me, rather – this eyes were glued to the television as he pressed buttons on
the remote in his hand and he didn’t seem to regard me at all. I turned to
leave the room, go back to the kitchen then back to my room, but my eyes kept
moving toward the table, the pizza – and Derek. He would not do anything if he
didn’t until now, would he? No, there was no way to tell. He was drinking now –
he was drinking earlier too. He didn’t seem to be interested in me at all,
sucking slowly on the cheese almost dripping from his pizza before taking a
large bite of it, his eyes staring intently on the large, bright screen,
intrigued by the events transpiring on it.
“Fine.” I said quietly, and noticed but ignored a most subtle smirk on Derek’s
lips as I took a slice and - what the hell – the glass of beer too and sat on
the couch, squirming when I felt the cushions giving under my body, almost
sucking me in with their tender comfort, I sat as far away from Derek as I
could.
Soon, after I tasted the pizza- almost moaning at the amazing taste of tomato
sauce and cheese and olives, and immediately turning my head to see Derek not
flustered at all by the sound, still unmoving and eyes at the screen as before
– and after I took a single torturing gulp of the drink he poured into my
glass, and realized that I really didn’t like it at all, my eyes too moved to
watch the screen.
It’s not that I have never seen a movie. I was very little, and back then it
was a silly, animated children movie, it’s not that I never saw one with real
actors – the traders on night watch would sometimes watch one on their portable
devices, it’s just that it was never on such a clear, large screen, where every
single thing seemed to be almost jumping out of it, and when Derek picked the
remote and turned up the sound, it was as if it surrounded us completely.
It was an astounding, new and colorful experience, and by focusing on it – on
the characters, their story, their happiness and their sufferings, I was able
to let go of my own, just a little.
Derek poured me another glass of beer, and for himself a small glass of some
liquid I didn’t know which he downed in one go, looking at me for the first
time since we both sat down,
“Your smile is pretty....” He mentioned, pouring a second shot for himself,
“It’s a good movie, isn’t it? Figured you would like something that could take
your mind off things.”
The second glass of beer, once I finished it, didn’t seem so bad after all. My
head felt lighter, my headache was less… headachy. I giggled quietly when Derek
talked about my smile and took another piece of pizza, avoiding looking at him
because I was embarrassed by the compliment, by the blue, blue eyes looking at
me, so sober, not cloudy as my own probably were. He was so… so pretty. No in
the way his sister was, perhaps just a bit. Their face was similar in shape,
his hair just a shade darker then hers, his smile so much warmer… I bit my lips
and let my mind be clouded, just forget everything bad, for once. Forget how he
looked at me before, when on this very couch he was going to… to…
Derek came a bit closer and my mind partially exploded as something, something
pushed the clouds out of my mind and shouted at me - this is wrong! This is so
very wrong. His hand moved along my arm, pulled my hood, my protection was
gone, my face – suddenly marked with the trails of tears when the headache came
back, pounding and shouting so very loudly not to let him come any closer.
‘This is wrong. Wrongwrongwrong. Why did I stay? Why did I stay?’ I closed my
eyes as his face came even closer to mine and a cold finger moved across my
lips, pressing down and rubbing at the edge of them. My eyes opened to see him
sucking on his thumb, his eyes hardly looking at me at all as he retreated,
taking another bite of the last slice of pizza.
“You had pizza sauce on your…” he trailed off, still not looking at me,
“There.” I kept quiet, re-placed the hood and pulled it as far down as it would
go to cover my heating, probably reddening face.
We both continued watching the movie in complete silence, each at his own
corner, neither of us drinking nor eating anymore. When the credits came on I
was already on my legs, starting to clean the mess on the table before Derek
told me to stop. “Just leave it here… I will clean it tomorrow.” He said with a
stern expression, “Go… do something else.”
 
Why did his eyes seem so sad?
Why, why did I even care?
I buried my face in my hand as I walked toward my room, feeling my warm, moist
with tears face clinging to my fingers as more tears came along. If he wanted
to take me, that very moment, if he advanced beyond what he did… the headache
returned to its former strength, attacking me viciously, accompanied with a
burn in my stomach. I felt sick, not just because of the alcohol to which I was
not resilient at all, or because of too much pizza, I was sick from a thought
that popped in my pounding head, a small little thought. If he did advance
more, if he kissed me, put a hand on my thigh, stroked it gently… I almost
retched at the thoughts my mind was spawning, the images I could not - not see
anymore.
it wasn’t right. Wrong. Wrong. I didn’t want him to continue, I wasn’t grateful
for him not raping me on the couch, I was not grateful for him basically
behaving like a human being for the last three hours – I had nothing to be
grateful for, nothing to feel attracted to the youth for. Everything, from the
images and the ache haunting my head to my churning stomach was because of the
alcohol, nothing more than that.
With that thought in mind, I took the hood off my head and sat on my bed,
suddenly feeling very lonely.
 
 The next morning I awoke with an intensified headache, what I believed to be a
headache the night before couldn’t even compare to how I was feeling as I laid
in my bed, I barely managing to open and take in the dim light in the room,
burning when it hit them. I groaned quietly, pulling a pillow over my head to
block the light and the noises, so many loud noises, I wished Jack would just
shut up already…
Jack, was it Jack? It was his voice, surely. But it sounded angry. Was he angry
with me? Did he see the mess in the living room, the ash and cigarette butt I
couldn’t clean up, the carton of barely finished pizza and the empty bottles of
alcoholic beverages…
His voice seemed blurry, but it also seemed to be coming closer to my room,
then passing it, but still  stayed in hearing range so without even realizing
it, I found myself listening in on a conversation, a loud, angry conversation.
 “It was just A couple of guys… we didn’t do anything.” Derek’s voices sounded
cautious, as they only came out of his mouth after a long time considering each
word. “You told me it was okay, on the phone, remember? I asked you if it was
okay.”
“It WAS okay, until your friends wrecked the entrance hall!” I never heard Jack
yell before, it was horrifying – yet very satisfying as the yells were directed
at Derek and not me, and heaven knows he deserved that. “Graffiti, trash, they
broke everything in sight, who do you think will have to pay for the clean-up
and repairs?” he sighed, “Seriously, Derek, you can’t be around that kind of
people, your sister is furious and for once she is right to be.”
There was silence for a few more seconds, and I relished on it while it lasted,
my head was still pounding and the yelling did nothing to help it stop, I also
had time to imagine Derek’s face as he was given the lecture, enjoying it
thoroughly. The silence continued for a while more, then Jack continued
talking, a little distant and less frightfully angry than before. “And you will
clean up the living room, Eros is not going to be cleaning up your mess. Is
that clear?”
I chuckled quietly when he said that, serves him right. He deserved whatever
venom Jack spat along with the lecture.
“I was going to clean it myself anyway…” Derek said and probably stormed off
after that, as I could hear his foot-steps – distinctly different from Jack’s,
less heavy, less prominent.
 
A sigh, then a knock on my door. Before I could respond Jack entered, and I was
immediately sitting up on the bed, looking at his figure entering my dark room,
looking at his face as the lights suddenly turned on.
He looked at me back, silent for the first few moments. “Eros.”
“You are back early…” I commented back while trying to stay meager, calm. “I
didn’t even notice you were gone.” I looked down at my hands, trying not to
notice the slight smirk on the corner of his mouth when he came closer to sit
by me on the bed, his hand when it stroked my exposed thigh in affection – just
a few inches below the place where one of the belts left a visible sign on my
skin, concealed by shorts I have been wearing. ”I missed you too.”
He hugged me, patted my back and I just sat there, his touch making my body to
react instinctively by shaking, almost unnoticeable shaking under his hands, I
buried my head in his shoulder until he let go, wiping burning tears on his
shirt. “You are not… you didn’t tell me you were going away.” I said quietly,
holding onto his sleeve. “And I didn’t… didn’t miss you, not at all…”
Jack broke the hug, and looked at me with a smirk, “Really? Well, maybe I’ll go
back for a few more days.” I lowered my eyes, pouting slightly before shaking
my head. “No? Well… fine, I’ll stay.” He patted my shoulder once more before
getting back on his feet, crossing his arms across his chest. “Eros… can you
tell me what happened here yesterday?”
I closed my eyes tightly, my chest tightening as the memories of the day before
started pouring in, the headache coming back with them ten folds stronger. “I…
um…” I couldn’t find my words suddenly, Jack eyes on me – sharp and
inquisitive, I could feel them even if my own were closed. “I don’t…” what was
I going to say? That they almost raped me? That Derek almost raped me? I shook
my head a little, opening my eyes to look back at Jack, “He came with his
friends, they ordered me around a little… Derek told them to go away though…”
“Is that all?” Jack said, his smile just about coming back as nodded, “that’s
great. Derek is a good kid, whether he cares to show it or not is another
thing.”
I kept silent looking at my now starting to be sweaty palms. Would he notice my
lie? Bother to inquire further? I didn’t really lie, technically, it was a
half-truth, and it was fine. Probably.
***** Chapter 11 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“Derek has moved in, as you probably noticed, and will stay and live here as
part on this household. Like me and Jack, he is authorized to use you as he
pleases.” Isabelle voice was   almost monotone as she talked, her hands brushed
my shoulder then straightened the collar of my shirt, and she looked at me,
critically assessing my stature and appearance. “Did you brush your hair? It’s
awfully messy.”
I held the sigh attempting to escape my mouth, it was the third time she had
asked. “Yes, ma’am.”
She moved her fingers through it, they were soft and very long, and were trying
with no success to comb my hair. “Maybe if we use some hair product it’ll stay
in place.” She muttered to herself, “or maybe if we cut it.” I shuddered under
her hand and looked down to the floor, my breath catching in my throat until
she finally moved away. “We’ll have to do that after tonight. Eros, look
straight.” I raised my eyes, looking at her when her voice attacked my mind
repeatedly within seconds. “You will follow Derek’s orders just as you follow
mine or Jacks, you will not complain or talk back to him. Derek can be quite
whimsical so if you feel he wronged you in any way you will report it to me or
to Jack and we will make that judgment.” She finally stopped talking, looking
me over one more time. “Now, about tonight. I trust Jack already explained to
you but I’ll repeat – the people coming over are people Jack works with, high
class, they are accustomed to a certain level of servitude. You will do
everything they ask of you, smile, and don’t talk unless you are spoken to. Is
everything I am saying completely clear to you?”
I nodded. Jack had explained it all to me the day before, one of the reasons he
had to come back earlier than expected was to arrange a dinner party which have
moved to his home unexpectedly. He tried canceling or moving it back because of
what Derek’s friends did to the entrance hall, but was unsuccessful. Everything
was arranged in a hurry, and miraculously it was done by this point of the day
– every inch of the apartment cleaned to Isabelle satisfaction, dinner cooked
and presented for the guests to self-serve, trays of appetizers and champagne
glasses filled the kitchen, I was supposed to be in charge of distributing
them.
For the last two hours Isabelle had trained me to hold the trays correctly, and
how to walk straight, and how to address the guests, and more kinds of
uninteresting things. At some points during the training Jack or Derek would
come in, smirking as I tried to walk a straight line without dropping a single
glass, and most of the time failed miserably. For about half an hour Derek
stood near Isabelle, snickering gleefully, that’s until she shooed him out and
told him to go get ready.
Eventually, I managed to complete Isabelle’s exercises to her satisfaction, or
rather, the peak of my ability in the given time. She would make me practice
this thousands times more once tonight is over. The last hour before the first
guest was supposed to arrive was spent by me getting a very through shower,
after which Isabelle examined me and sent me in to the shower for a do over,
unsatisfied with my smell, or my hair, or the way the part behind my ears was
not shining clean. Something along these lines, I wasn’t listening to her after
her first three words.
Barely on time, my hair still damp from the shower - I was in my room
struggling with the clothes she gave me when she finally came in to do one last
examination. Bringing me to the current time.
“Well,” she brushed my soggy hair with her fingers once more - trying to
straighten it, “I’m sure you will make me… and Jack, proud of you.” Her hands
rested on my shoulders, squeezing them slightly before she turned away “count
to fifty, then come out with the first round of champagne. Don’t forget what we
worked on.”
I took a deep breathe once she was gone, rubbed my eyes a bit.
It was a long day, and it seemed that the night was going to be even longer.
 
I picked up a tray of champagne glasses, stepping out of the door of the
kitchen into the living room – now occupied by about fifteen people, or maybe
more, I couldn’t count them as my eyes looked for Jack or Isabelle and couldn’t
find them.
I took a deep breath, approached a small group of people and offered each of
them a glass accompanied with a small smile, bowing my head when they accepted.
None declined my offer. I knew what I had to do without having Isabelle tell me
again, but getting a glimpse of Jack’s face could probably have done some good
at relieving my anxiety.
After handing almost everyone in the room champagne I finally saw a familiar
face, unfortunately not the one I wished to see.
“Would you like a glass of champagne, Master Derek?” I said with just a bit of
venom in my voice, offering him a glass before attempting to move away only to
have my way blocked by his arm.
“I hope you haven’t been using that tone on the other guests.” He said,
smirking when I took two steps back. I shook my head slightly, my eyes looking
to confirm no one was looking. “Listen… don’t look so nervous.” He clicked his
fingers to get my attention back to him, “come on, people will think we can’t
keep you calm, that is – trained, if you look nervous around anyone who lives
here. Come closer… that’s it.”
I lowered my head again as I moved to reduce the distance between us,
immediately regretting it when his hand stroked my arm, straightened the fabric
of my suit, and repositioned my bow-tie. He leaned closer to me, his mouth
almost by my ear. “When this is done… come to my room.” I shuddered, but didn’t
raise my head to look at him, and he moved away, probably smirking to himself
in delight.
I took another deep breath, trying to shake away the words Derek said from my
mind before returning to serve more glasses to a few new people who arrived,
then pick up all the emptied glasses laying around the room and in the hands of
people before returning to the kitchen to prepare for another round. When
there, I put the tray of glasses on a counter and laying back on it, covered my
face with one hand.
Derek couldn’t possibly want me to come to his room to do… do that. He said he
wanted me, but on our last few encounters he didn’t take me by force, he didn’t
take me when I was intoxicated – willing to give myself if he tried to, why
would he choose to do it now? Because he had authority over me now? Because I
couldn’t say no, even if I didn’t want it?
I sighed deeply and looked around me, I needed to get more champagne and
appetizers out before they began eating, then I could have a bit of rest,
maybe.
But probably not.
 
With the second round almost over, I was now squeezing my way through a crowd
of loudly speaking people, some arguing, some rumbling pointlessly about the
dress of another, picking up empty glasses and dirty napkins on my way,
avoiding being talked to just barely, giving the initiators only a hint of an
apologetic smile before hurrying on my mission to finish up and the sooner, the
better.
"Eros! Eros.” Jack’s voice made my head jerk back and I almost dropped the tray
of glasses, only barely managing to save it by balancing my body at the last
moment. Jack looked at me for a moment before chuckling to himself and coming
closer. “Oh dear, I’m sorry.” He said, putting his hand on my shoulder, “You
look adorable, we should get you more suits.” He said with unending amounts of
adoration pouring out of his mouth along with his voice, his hand moving to
remove one stubborn bang of hair from my forehead as I looked up at him,
blushing at his words and not saying a things.
“Jackie, is that him?!” a squeaky voice reached my ears as a middle-aged,
moderately hefty woman approached the two of us, Jack sighed with a smile on
his face and reached closer to me. “Mind if I show you off a little?” he said
and without waiting for my answer, as he always did not do, turned to greet the
woman with a grin.
I felt bile rising in my throat at Jack’s words. Most of the time, Jack was so
considerate of my feelings. When we were alone, we would talk and laugh like
equals, like I wasn’t wearing a collar like a pet, like I wasn’t an item, an
indicator of status. But now, surrounded by his peers and colleagues – and here
he was, treating me just as one of those things, a thing to ‘show off’ to those
people, clothe in ‘adorable suits’, and smile whole-heartedly and without
regret while doing it. I let a shaky breath escape my mouth when the woman, and
a few more joining her huddled around me, running their hands through my hair –
“What a beautiful color!” over my skin – “So soft! How old is he? Fourteen?
Fifteen?” Offended, I held my tongue and held the urge to tell them my age
myself if Jack didn’t do it, closing my eyes when a hand came to hold and raise
my chin so they could look at my neck more closely, a hand moving over the
fitted leather collar around it. “It’s so pretty, and fits him so well!” one of
the women said, and I finally opened my eyes, just barely managing to capture
Jack’s face through the gaps between the bodies of the flock of women who
surrounded me. In my mind I begged – for him to make them leave me alone, for
him to grab me and take me away from under their clutches. He smiled, as he
always did – a bit nervous, but didn’t show any intent to move or talk to make
them stop –
“Oh, oh. Jack, those eyes –“ one woman took my chin between her fingers and
raised it so she could see my eyes up closer. “This shade, is that turquoise?
Did you have them alter it for you?”
‘It’. I bit my lip at her comment and holding myself from making one myself
moved my head out of her grasp, taking a few steps back.
I noticed a momentary flash of anger in Jack’s eyes and retaliated with a glare
of my own before standing up straight, making myself wear a courteous smile and
close my eyes.
“I’m sorry, my ladies.” I said, half opening my eyes seductively. “I really
should get back to my responsibilities… can I get any of you anything?
Champagne? Wine?”
Some of the women looked at me, a bit shocked before nodding their heads and
saying their preference, then slipping away to relocate the flock at another
part of the room, whispering and talking between themselves. Some others
giggled and just went away.
I slipped away toward the kitchen, noticing Jack walking behind me quietly and
decidedly deny anyone who approached him with an intention to chat. Was he
angry at me? He looked crossed before… I didn’t want to know if he was angry, I
never made him mad at me before and the thought terrified me.
“Eros.” a moment after entering the kitchen I heard him behind me and stopped
my rushed steps, closing my eyes. I heard his steps coming closer before
turning to look at him, not looking down or away, not closing my eyes, not
letting him see that I was mortified, that I was barely holding the tears
behind my eyes. My breath was shaky, but that – I hoped it wasn’t noticeable.
Jack came closer, and then he was standing again but so much closer, and I was
still looking at him, still not letting myself drop my gaze.
“You…” his eyes narrowed, his lips thinned as he glared at me, he seemed to be
looking for words and with him being unable to find them we both just stood
there, each silently looking at the other until finally I just had enough and
turned away, moving to prepare a new serving of wine and champagne. Jack stood
and watched me for a while, I could feel his eyes burrow holes in my back.
“Aren’t you going to apologize to me, Eros?” his voice was dangerously calm,
and I closed my eyes and put the bottle I had in my hand back on the counter,
both my hands slipping to hold the edge.
“I don’t… think… I have anything to apologize about.” I murmured, firmly
holding my body completely still as Jack once again came closer, the feeling of
his glare on my back intensified.
“You don’t?” he said, and I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me to
turn around and face him, “You were very rude to my guests back there, do you
even realize that?” he asked, and I took in a shaky breath and moved my own
gaze to the floor. “I explained it to you yesterday, what tonight means to me.
Isabelle explained it to you again today, and yet-“
“They were the ones being rude!” I blurted and looked up at him again, cutting
him mid-sentence. I felt tears burn at the corner of my eyes, “You saw what
they were doing – treating me like I am some kind of object – a pet… I’m not a
pet, I’m not…” the tears has officially started flowing down my cheeks, “I’m
not just a thing to show off…”
Jack looked at me as I wiped my eyes and bit my lower lip, gazing down at the
floor again. The severity in his eyes did not soften for a moment. “Yes, you
are.” I raised my head in shock, Jack did not even blink. “You are a product,
something that I’ve bought and have every right to brag about, if so I wish.”
He said, and my breath quickened in panic, what was he saying? Was this what he
thought of me? Was everything before today just a ruse?
“Eros, calm down.” He then said, putting a hand on my shoulder again, in return
I backed away against the counter, almost knocking down a few glasses. He
brought his other hand to my face, caringly stroking my tear blotched cheek
before pulling me over with his other hand, hugging me and holding my head
tightly against his chest, I felt a certain need to throw up, but my body
didn’t listen and I stayed completely still in his arms.
“You know I adore you, right?” he whispered, his hand going through my hair and
on my nape, warm and comforting, “I liked you from the moment I saw you, you
have a personality like no other slave I saw that day.” I kept quiet, closing
my eyes and shaking. My world was crushing around me, Jack was exactly as I
thought he was when I first met him, and the disappointment burned through my
body. “I am very proud of the fact that you are mine, do you understand that?
You can’t fault me for wanting my friends and co-workers to know how perfect
you are and how happy I am that I have you. I boast about Isabelle a lot, too,
I know it’s not the same, but it is, kind of.”
He squeezed me against his body one more time before letting me go, and I
immediately back away against the counter again, keeping my head and eyes low
so he couldn’t see how I was still crying, how my eyes were still open wide in
shock.
He turned to leave, straightening his clothes and his hair and sighing deeply.
“Eros,” my name being called made me lift my gaze a little, to find him looking
at me with a small smile – “You still need to get those drinks for the ladies,
don’t make them wait too long. And – if someone asks you to do something,
anything, just make sure you do it in the best way you can. Don’t disappoint
me.”
The moment he left I crashed.
The tears thankfully stopped before then, now it was just me, panicking –
heavily breathing like no air could actually get to my lungs.
The words Jack spoke – he probably thought he was really kind to say them, that
it would make what he said before seem less horrible for me, but everything
just added up and just meant the same thing, I was a pet – a loved one, one he
cared for, but nothing more than that.
If even he felt that way, even he thought of me as nothing.Maybe it was time
for me to accept that this is what I am. Nothing.
 
The rest of the evening went by slowly; after washing my face until no trace
was left on it from the tears but my red eyes I went to make a few more rounds
in the people-filled room, distancing myself from Jack and Isabelle as much as
I could, forcing myself to smile and to say courteous words as people’s
reactions to me started to became a lot less subtle as time went by. If I
thought the women from before were rude, I didn’t know what I was to handle
later in the evening.
Touches, first just strokes on my arms as I passed by, then pinches, someone
grabbed me by my hand and pulled me to his side so he could look at my eyes –
commenting loudly to his company on how unusual they were, and laughed loudly.
And I… I could do nothing but stand there meekly and let them do as they
wished, not commenting, trying to smile or at least not frown when they joked
about me, or made comments that could make a stone blush…
If Jack was there, if he saw he would… probably do nothing. How much was too
much in his eyes? How lascivious did they need to be before he would consider
intervening?
“-So what do you think? Maybe we should take this to another room?” my gaze
sunk to the floor when a hand grabbed my shoulder, the tray was hugged by my
arms, close to my chest. Around me a group of three or four men were gathered –
their touching had stopped being restrained about fifteen minutes before, their
conversation even before that.
I could push the man whose hand slipped over my clothed chest, tracing its
lines to my stomach and back, passing over my collar bone. I could make a snide
remark at the one who talked about my ass, I could look each and every one of
them in the eyes and tell them to go kill themselves. I could, but I really
couldn’t.
Just make sure to do it the best way you can. That was what he said, anything
they wanted from me… just do it the best way I can, and he will be proud of me.
Chapter End Notes
     Ugh. :(
***** Chapter 12 *****
Chapter Notes
     Yay! chapter 12!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
My head was hammering, understandably, since it been shoved against my own bed-
frame for the last thirty minutes, I probably had welts and cuts all over the
back of my head, and the space on my shoulder where hands were holding me and
pushing me down against the mattress was bruising blue and purple. Shallow
breaths but not much else escaped my mouth when a hand moved slowly, stroking
my skin from my back down to my ass, circling along the lines of my ass,
pinching the cheeks and then fingers piercing into me, another hand – a
different hand of a different person moved across my stomach, pinched,
scratched and then grabbed my waist strongly. A thick tongue ran lapped
hungrily across my skin, it moved from teasing a nipple to my neck, pushing
under my collar and over it to my chin, leaving a trail of wetness after it. I
swallowed a whimper when the fingers attempted to stretch me further, trying
unsuccessfully and unskillfully to prepare me for the next cock beginning to
invade my body, not bothering to start slowly, he thrust into me like I was
just a convenient hole for him to use- sharp and fast and deep.
I didn’t cry, I didn’t talk or curse or beg, tears did come out of my eyes but
not because of the pain, not because my head was screaming at me, not because
my back was bent in an unnatural way, I couldn’t feel any of that. My mind fell
blank long before now, probably before the first man had his go, I conveniently
shut myself down to any feeling, not pain, not humiliation; It would all come
back to me later, but right now I was protected. I couldn’t feel their hands,
couldn’t hear their voices, and as long as it didn’t bother them, everything
was fine.
Two more men have done me again afterwards, and perhaps I lost count, but after
that it seemed like every one of them opted for another round before my
consciousness finally slipped away. When I awoke again ten minutes later they
were gone. All that remained of them were the wounds – both external and
internal, and shit load of cum all over my skin and hair and also inside of me,
on my sheets… I would have to replace them…
Shivering, I cackled to myself. The sheets were not the only thing that needed
replacing, I wanted to rip my hair out, scrub my skin right off until no trace
remained, until I could not notice the smell of other men on my body, until I
couldn’t see the scars or bruises, until nothing remained at all.
Was the party over by now? I couldn’t remember if I had to do more rounds or…
no, no, the one before… before those men was the last one, most of guests
should have gone home already, it was supposed to be the end of the night which
meant I was free to stay where I was, drenched in cum and sweat and not get up
until tomorrow morning when I’ll have to clean everything and return to the
same routine of being just a-
“Hey. Thought I told you to come to my room after the party-“ Derek’s loud
voice didn’t make me raise my head from its place on the soft, warm mattress,
nothing could right now, not the chocked breath when he came and knelt by me,
not the touch of his hand on my tear stained face as he wiped the most fresh
ones off. I closed my eyes tightly, moving my face away from his touch,
attempting to bury myself in the mattress as deep as it would allow me.
“Please, leave me alone.” I murmured into the mattress, I didn’t care if he
understood what I said at all as long as he just let go, his fingers left my
skin immediately. He got up and I heard him curse to himself quietly before
moving back a few meters at least.
“An hour…” he said inaudibly, “get cleaned and dressed and come to my room.”
His voice was steady and so were his steps when he left the room.
Even now, after he saw me like this – I had no doubt that he knew what
happened, and clearly he didn’t care, he was going to do this to me again, he
was going to do this to me even like this…
And I couldn’t refuse.
 
I managed to get up, only barely, wrapped myself in the dirty covers and went
for the nearest bathroom.
The first ten minutes of my stay there was spent next to the lavatory, heaving
and throwing up and heaving some more, my fingers held the edges of the seat
almost too intensely, my knuckles turning white from the strength of my grip as
I emptied my stomach through my sore throat, tasting stomach acid and not much
else on my tongue.
After my stomach was emptied completely I got up and entered the shower,
turning on the water, then collapsing on the floor and let myself be hit by
cold, then warm, then burning hot drops of water, I let my consciousness slip
away as I sat, my knees hugged close to my chest, my hair dripping water and
filth. I couldn’t bother to clean myself further, not when I was going to be
tarnished all over again in less than an hour. Nothing mattered anymore,
hygiene for the sake of Derek’s pleasure less than everything. I smiled to
myself bitterly and got up, shutting off the water and just stood there,
shedding water from my body onto the floor, watching them gather into a big
puddle under my bare legs.
Covering myself with a towel, not drying myself as I went through the hallways,
letting myself submerge in the suddenly untypical silence reigning in the
apartment as I headed toward Derek’s room, letting myself ignore his order to
get cleaned and dressed before coming over. I knew what he wanted to do, and
clothes were never part of that.
I entered Derek’s room, not bothering to knock on the door, and found it empty.
Derek wasn’t there, he was probably preparing or… something. I was too tired to
even think why he wouldn’t be there or what he had to prepare before using me
again. I climbed on his bed and sat there, only a towel as a cover against the
cool air in the room. My mind had drifted off and my body just didn’t seem to
work right, my breathes were shallow, and did not carry any air in or out of my
lungs, my head felt light and I just wanted to sleep, but I don’t get to sleep
now, I don’t get to sleep at all unless I get permission to sleep…
“I thought I told you to get dressed…” a pair of pajama pants hit my face
suddenly, causing my unsteady body to fall back on the bed. I stayed that way,
not moving to move them away, not looking up to see Derek, who came closer and
sat next to me, getting the pants away from my face, which he then proceeded
stroke softly with his hand. I turned to my side, giving myself to the
sensation of his warm hand on my skin. When he let go I closed my eyes.
“Lift your legs.” This was it, I bit my lip and buried my face in the mattress,
giving Derek what he had asked for without a single comment. I heard him sigh
before he took hold of one of my thighs, his touch was warm and unexpectedly
temperate but all I could think about was that I just wanted it to be over, I
just needed him to do whatever he wanted to do to me and send me back to my own
room, so I could finally sleep. Surprisingly, a soft material slipped up my
leg, then on my other one. I half opened my eyes, raising my head just slightly
to look at Derek as he dressed me, slowly sliding the pants up my thighs.
“It’s okay…” he whispered, and I laid my head back on the mattress, letting him
handle my body until I was fully dressed, laying comfortably on the bed, my
head on a soft pillow, my body covered by a thick blanket. Derek sat next to
me, his hand stroking my still damp hair gently, I had my back turned to him,
so I couldn’t see the look on his face, and I didn’t care. All I could think of
was how tired I was, how my whole body ached so much, how much I wished that I
was not there.
 
“He doesn’t feel well, you should let him rest.” Derek disdainful voice woke me
up, drowsy, still aching so much that I could not move to look up and see who
he was talking to – not that I cared, I didn’t. Whoever it was could go to hell
before I moved a single muscle of my body ever again. I heard Derek whisper
something, then the door closed and he started moving back toward the bed, I
didn’t move as he sat next to me, then laid next to me, his hand touched my
shoulder lightly.
“Hey, I got you some tea.” He said quietly, “…and pain-killers.” I still didn’t
move as he put the steaming mug and pills on a nightstand next to me, I felt a
hand under my body urging me to get up and pulling my body closer to Derek’s.
“Here, you’re going to be fine, it’s going to be okay.” His words did nothing
to comfort me, but I let him pull me up and into a sitting position, let him
help me swallow the pills by putting them inside my mouth and making me take a
sip of the tea, and then another one. He didn’t let me lay back down until I
finished to drink it to the last drop, and even then he made me face him, look
at his seemingly worried expression. “You had a harsh couple of days, you
should rest now…” he said, his hand moving to stroke my hair before laying my
body back on the mattress, moving to cover me with the blanket once again, but
I wouldn’t have that, I didn’t want to stay there, I didn’t want to be around
him or anyone else.
“Can… I…” my words felt choked, like the sound couldn’t fully form in my
throat, “I want to go to my room…” I tried to get up, biting my lower lip when
my body wouldn’t budge. Derek hand was on my back, keeping me frustratingly
confined in place, too weak to get away. I whimpered into the mattress. “Please
let me go… please let me…”
Derek ran his hand soothingly across my back “You don’t want to go there… it’s
dirty… and disgusting.”  I crashed back into the mattress, closing my eyes and
breathing heavily in my distress, I wanted to go away, I wanted to be away from
him, get away before his hand moved to other areas once he decided to drop his
act, I sobbed into the mattress when he once more stroked my back, his voice
softly whispering at me to relax.
“Fuck you…” I sobbed, his hand  lifted for a moment, then returned to my back
and sled across it to my head, going over my hair slowly, I gave up on trying
to get up and just sobbed and cried into the mattress for a while. His touch
was gentle, but I couldn’t bear it, I couldn’t feel anything but the shape of
his fingers on my skin, moving along it slowly.  “Why are you… doing this?! Why
act like you care?!” I shrieked, turning to look at him which was too hard with
my eyes too filled with tears to actually see anything clearly. “You… you were
going to do the same thing to me yesterday… why suddenly change your mind? Is
it suddenly disgusting because they got to me first?”
I moved, only barely, away from under Derek’s hands, managing to turn over and
sit myself up and not fall off the edge of the bed despite my body being very
unsteady, wobbly. Derek looked at me silently, he sat cross legged and glared
at me, not answering.
“You… you can do it now.” I said quietly, my hands shakily moving to the edge
of my shirt, grabbing at the soft fabric and starting to lift it. “You should
do it now – just drop you act, I can’t say no anymore…” I pulled the shirt over
my head, and proceeded to remove the pants when Derek’s hand grabbed my arm and
stopped me, I closed my eyes tightly. “What? Isn’t that what you wanted? Since
that first time you tried to rape me-!”
“No.” Derek grabbed both my hands, holding them down, “Eros, You’re panicking,
you have no idea what you’re saying.” I knew exactly what I was saying, he
couldn’t fool me. I pulled my hands back, but couldn’t get them out of his grip
which strengthened the more I struggled. “Relax, please…” he somehow seemed
miserable, downhearted, he didn’t know what to do with me as my breathes became
thin and too fast to actually be sufficient or how desperately I pulled at my
hands, injuring my palms with my nails as I screamed at him to just do it or
let me go, just take what he wanted from me or let me go. Finally he let go of
one of my hands, covering my mouth instead as he climbed over me and forced my
body down on the mattress, sitting on my stomach he closed his eyes and sighed.
“I did not tell you to come to my room to do… so I could… ah- seriously, that
wasn’t the point.” Derek sighed again and let go of my other hand, he let me
push him aside and get up, my breath still didn’t settle down, I was
hyperventilating and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest,
I wanted to yell at him again but couldn’t, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t –
Derek hugged me, he pulled my head up to his chest, his bare, warm chest  that
soon became wet from my tears, he rocked my body in his arms and he talked, I
couldn’t understand what he said, couldn’t comprehend it, but soon my breathes
sorted and the tears stopped coming out. I let myself sink in the warmth of his
arms around me, his body close to mine. “I just wanted you to come over because
I wanted to fool around and- and spend some time with you.” he whispered in my
ear, “I wanted to tease you a bit, and then we’d watch a movie and... I don’t
know, I didn’t think about it…” his hand stroked my hair again “why did you let
them do that? You could’ve called Jack or Isabelle, they wouldn’t let them do
that to you-“
I grabbed at the fabric of Derek’s pants when he mentioned Jack, “I… I needed
to do… what they said… e-everything… Jack said-“ I sounded so pathetic, even to
myself. I was the worst, showing myself to him so openly after everything that
happened. “I can’t disappoint him, I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to…”
so miserably pathetic, ridiculous, Derek won’t understand what the things Jack
said the night before meant, to him that fact would make perfect sense – I was
a slave, something lower than an animal, it was so obvious to everyone around
me, even if I couldn’t accept it myself. I couldn’t trust him, I couldn’t trust
anyone. Jack was honest with me, painfully so – and I got hurt because I let
myself grow expectations of him. I couldn’t let myself slip-up a second time.
Derek stayed quiet for a while, just stroking my hair as he kept holding me
against him firmly enough that I could hear his heart beating, slowing down
from a rage to a steady, relaxed beat. We stayed like that for a long while, I
think half an hour at leastbefore he laid me back on the bed and got up,
leaving me to dose off on his bed as he went out of the room and not returned
before I finally gave up on trying to stay awake and closed my eyes, falling
asleep within seconds. 
Chapter End Notes
     ...In which Derek is an adorable dork. ;_;
***** Chapter 13 *****
Chapter Summary
     Hey just wanted to let you know - I've drawn some characters from the
     story, you can find them here: http://narukyuu.tumblr.com/post/
     78253754018/three-ocs-of-mine-from-a-story-ive-been-writing)
     :>
Chapter Notes
     Okay pretty sure everything is in the tags, but still - (very)
     underage sexual abuse, toys abuse, violence, voyurism and...
     basically some very sick stuff.
     I don't even know what's wrong with me.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
Slavery is normal.
It always has been. No one is the same as the other, we differ from each other
in so many ways so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that some people
are just superior to others, some are good, others are bad, some are
intellectual while others are imprudent and some are white – while others are
black.
There is a range of ranks, positions in society. How they are determined is a
changing variable, once it’s been race – the color of skin or eyes or hair, the
shape of the skull or body. Then it was a punishment for those who would commit
crimes against the same society – from petty crimes like theft, robbery… to
worse. Rape, murder… Homosexuality.
And now, at last, the variable became money. Those who has none would serve
those with the most, and the ones in the middle will remain blind… at least
until they fall to poverty themselves, or rise to wealth. The first is more
probable than the other.
So the reason no one has spoken yet, the reason no one scorns the idea of
slavery, of taking the freedom away from a person who is just like them, making
him less than human to fit to their own needs and wants – the reason is… they
choose to focus on keeping themselves away from the thin line that separates
them from the same situation, they choose to remain blind, they tell themselves
those who came to be in that situation deserved it, they just haven’t worked
hard enough, they wanted it – they preferred it to a life of poverty. How bad
is a life as a slave – as a whore if they could get the luxury of a bed to
sleep on, food to eat?
Slavery might not be ideal. It might be kind of bad.
But it is normal.
 
 Right. Normal.
 
My life was not normal, being what I am – not normal. It is accepted, it is
common, but it’s not…
My stomach is empty, but it doesn’t help me avoid throwing up all of its
contents onto the floor of the shower, hurling as thoughts and memories flooded
me once I let my mind wonder.
Derek looked at me – he was the one who made me take another shower, this time
a thorough one unlike before. To his credit – he looked away when he ordered me
to take off my clothes, or instructed me to get into the shower. Otherwise – he
did nothing else to respect my privacy. He stayed in the room, he talked and
instructed me how to get clean – really clean, he kept asking how I felt – even
when I didn’t answer, or gave him nothing but an ungrateful grunt in return.
The sour taste burned in my mouth and I coughed the last of stomach acid out of
it, my eyes rolled from looking at the floor up to stare at the wall before me,
still wet and cold and stained with a dirty white substance all the way to the
floor, my head felt light, blank as I stared at it, I didn’t notice when Derek
suddenly appeared by my side, his hands grabbing me under my arms so I won’t
fall as he opened the tap and rinsed the filth from the wall and floor and the
both of us – Derek clothes were drenched by the time he pulled me out of the
shower and started drying my body with a soft towel, starting with my hair and
moving down, carefully he rubbed it over the scars I hid and were now exposed
to his eyes , he wasn’t fazed by them – he saw them before. His eyes showed
nothing but concentration as he moved the soft material over my thigh, down
behind my knee. And over to the second leg.
After he was done, leaving my body perfectly dry and wrapped completely with a
new, dry towel he proceeded to dry himself too, he took his shirt off and
squeezed the water out of it before throwing it to the top of a full laundry
bag, his blond hair fell softly over his eyes  after he dried it fervently and 
carelessly, leaving it damp and dripping so I couldn’t see them when he came
closer to me, heat radiating from his skin when his hand moved toward my face,
stroking my cheek then moving to my forehead, staying there for a while.
Derek grind his teeth and moved the hair away from his eyes, where it
immediately returned. “You are burning up.” He concluded as he removed his
hand, moving back a few steps. “No wonder you kept throwing up… Eros, can you
hear me?” he waved before my eyes and looked at me, seemingly concerned. I
nodded slightly, dropping my gaze to the floor gradually. “Listen, how do you
feel? Are you still nauseated? Does your stomach hurt? Anything else?” his
voice was soft but rushed, I answered him with nodding my head yes or no – I
wasn’t nauseated, my stomach did hurt, so did my back, throat and head. I
couldn’t bring myself to answer him loudly, I couldn’t keep standing –
everything was swirling before my eyes and my ears were buzzing-
“Shit…” Derek’s voice was really close to my ear; apparently my head was now
laying over his chest because I fell forward, losing consciousness for a split
second. “Come on, stand upright… that’s a good boy…”
 
Derek took me to his room again, laying me on his bed where I finally let go of
the towel and curled into a shivering ball with closed eyes and teeth
chattering. I didn’t care how exposed my body was, and how easy it would be to
assault me right now if anyone wanted to do that – would anyone want to do
that? Would Derek? in spite of the way he’d been treating me for the last
hours, the last day, the image of him climbing over my body, his hands touching
all over me, trying to stroke me into hardness, into shameless wanting – it
remained stuck, I couldn’t get rid of it.
And so, I didn’t care for Derek leaving me alone in his room after covering me
with his blanket.
 
“I found him throwing up in the bathroom.” Derek’s voice said quietly, lying to
whoever was with him now, I didn’t know why he would do that, to protect me? To
protect himself? He didn’t want them to think he did this to me, he wanted to
stay clear of guilt.
Someone sat next to me, their cold hand going through my damp hair to my
forehead and stayed there for a while. Derek stopped talking abruptly, and when
I opened my eyes sluggishly, disturbed by the hand on my forehead, I saw him
staring at me, and Isabelle standing next to him. Who was touching me then? I
blinked when the hand left me and raised my head a bit to see Jack sitting on
the bed next to me.
“Hey there, sleepy-head. I guess you got yourself a little sick huh?” He said
with a smile, I blinked again and said nothing, I had nothing to say to him –
my eyes burned and so did my throat, there was nothing I wanted more than to go
back to sleep, not to wake up ever again. I stared at him for a while more
before laying my head back down, my eyes moving to look at Derek who stood so
far away, I… I wanted him to be the one sitting next to me and no Jack. Why
would I want that? I couldn’t think straight at all. Jack’s hand moved from my
shoulder where it has been resting and he got up walking back to where Derek
and Isabelle were standing. He looked concerned towards me as he talked with
them, but I couldn’t bring myself to care enough about what was said and didn’t
listen as vague, distant words filled the room.
“…So I guess we would have to visit the Market again-“ didn’t listen until
that. I raised my head quickly – too quickly - causing myself another round of
swirling colours in my eyes and buzzing ears. They were going to return me to
the Market! They were going to replace me, even though I did everything, I
tried so hard… 
“N-no, please... please… I feel better.” I grunted, my throat burned and my
body felt too heavy to lift from my current pose, but I tried anyway. “I am
sorry, please…” Derek hurried to my side, his hand holding my shoulder to keep
me down as he said stuff that I couldn’t listen to and hear clearly over my own
shouts and desperate whimpers. I cried out, kicking my legs under the blanket
and tried to push him off me, prompting Jack to come help holding me down. “No,
no! Let me go, I feel better, I feel better…” I cried with eyes open in terror
when jack grabbed both my sitting legs and restrained them; I can’t go back, I
couldn’t let myself be sick if that meant they would send me back, if I just go
back to work and  do as I’m told they would let me stay, right? They would…
both derek and Jack tried talking, tried telling me something but I couldn’t
listen to them, I had to tell them – I was fine, I could still work, I would do
anything if they only let me stay.
“Stop, for heaven’s sake!” Isabelle came closer to us with a angry expression I
have not seen on her face before -  she pulled the two men away from me as if
they were no more in height and weight than a couple of toddlers. This action
allowed me to sit up – barely able to do more than chant the same panicked
sentences with my breaths becoming heavier and shorter. She stood with her back
to me, staring at both of them angrily before turning to glare at me. “Lay back
down Eros, Right now.” Shivering, I did as I was told, my fingers sank into the
fabric of the blanket and held firmly onto it. “Good, now you can go to sleep
and we are going to discuss how to handle this outside. I will send Derek with
a pill for the pain and some warm tea to help you sleep, have I made myself
clear, Eros?” I nodded at her strict tone, my breathing slowly settling back as
I watched the three of them walking out, Derek stopped for a moment before
going out his eyes found mine and he blinked softly, soothingly. He gave me a
small smile and a nod before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
I closed my eyes – but could not sleep. I couldn’t bear the thought of going
back to the Market and then Jack said it as if returning me – replacing me -
was the most natural thing to do once a slave gets a little sick. I dug my
nails deeper into the pillow my head rested on, feeling its fabric almost break
under the pressure and getting wet from my tears spilling on it. The fear they
would take me while I slept and bring me back kept me awake, I didn’t want to
sleep at all, I wanted to get up and return to what-ever duties Isabelle had
prepared for me, to keep working and being the best slave I could be, to not
disappoint them.  And yet… and yet I laid there, screaming internally at my
mind to keep awake, not to fall asleep. Get up. Get up and do something,
anything –
My hand curled into a fist around the fabric of the pillow, pushing down in an
attempt to push the rest of my body up and failing miserably; my body would not
budge, and behind my eyelids the darkness became a swirl of shadows and colours
that made me feel even sicker. 
“Stay down, idiot.” Derek’s voice made me groan incoherently into my pillow,
and he chuckled as he drew closer. He sat on the bed next to me and put a tray
on the nightstand, sitting next to me on the mattress. “I got you some tea… and
Izzy ordered some food, there’s chicken soup so you can eat if you’re hungry.”
“…not hungry…” I whimpered “and not sick either-“ a set of choked coughs
escaped my mouth one after another, my hand moved to my throat and I felt
Derek’s rest on my arching back, softly stroking it and trying to sooth me,
unsuccessfully. My eyes were moist and sweltering with tears. The coughs just
wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t—
“Not sick huh?” Derek murmured, his hand still rubbing my back “Relax… try to
breathe through your nose, here… it’s okay…” his voice next to my ear was
comforting and the coughing relaxed a bit, he helped me to sit up and handed me
a steaming mug of honey-smelling tea. “Here you go…” Derek whispered, he moved
to sit behind me and held me around my waist to make sure I didn’t fall
forward. I drunk the tea in small, slow sips as he instructed and closed my
eyes.
“You won’t… Jack won’t…” I whimpered into the mug, resting my head against
Derek’s chest “I-I’ll do anything… I can’t go back… I can’t.”
Derek stroked my hair and my neck, resting his hand on my shoulder. He picked
something from the tray and wrapped it around my neck like a scarf, a warm,
soft scarf. It smelled sour-sweet, but the unusual warmness of it was relaxing
and pampering, and I indulged in the feeling as Derek took the mug from my
hands and helped me to lay back again, resting my head on comfortable pillows
and covering my body once more.
“Don’t worry about that, go to sleep.” he whispered to me. The touch of his
lips cool against my burning skin was the last thing I felt.
 
“Get up”
Something cold touched my waist, something cold and metallic – andsharp.
I cried out when the tip of a metal rod almost pierced my skin, folding my body
and whimpering when it hit me. Why did my body hurt do much? Why did they hit
me all the time? I did nothing wrong—
“Get theFUCK up.” They hit me again, they hit me harder, and again. “Just
because you had a cock up your ass for a few hours doesn’t give you an excuse
to slack off.”
“What…” my head was pounding, I felt hot and cold and everything hurt so much.
“I don’t… understand…?” Where was I? I couldn’t remember anything, I didn’t
understand what they wanted from me. I raised to my elbows and knees and fell
back to the floor, to once again be hit by them. “S-stop… please stop-“ another
hit, this time to the back of my head. The memories came back all at once.
My mother sold me, I was hit and had my blood taken and they put something in
my forehead that made itches of pain run through my head all the time. Then…
then they made me go on a stage, and they made a lot of noise and shout numbers
and… and… hands were touching me, voices whispering in my ear as they put their
fingers in dirty places, touched and stroked and shouted and hit me and
everything hurt so much, they were too big, they tore me – I was bleeding and
burning inside and the pain persisted even now…
“N-no…” I whimpered, trying now to slip away, slither away from their rods and
voices… they wouldn’t stop, they hit me again and again… “No, no… I want my
mom, please, please…” I shielded my head and cried onto the floor until someone
grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet, poking my back with the sharp edge to
get me walking – limping and stumbling.
“Slaves don’t have mothers.” They poked me with the rod again, urging me to
hasten my steps, walking me from one dark room to another, occasionally hitting
me anywhere but my face with either a rod or their bare hands if I slackened my
pace or tripped.
I couldn’t stop crying, sniffling loudly and trying to wipe the tears with
shaking hands. I tried escaping them, starting to run suddenly before they
could grab me again – they caught me… once again to be cast to the floor until
they tired their arms beating almost any part of my body that still wasn’t
bruised or cut, and then up to my feet again.
They took me to a room that was much bigger and lighter than the others - its
floors and walls covered in stone tiles of declining colours.  in the room were
more boys, most of them were my age and stood around aimlessly staring at the
walls or floor, on one corner one boy was laying on the floor weeping and
covering his head, very much like how I did minutes before in the first room.
He was shaking and covered in bruises and cuts. After pushing me into the room,
one of the man went to him and forced him to stand, yelling and spitting at his
face before slapping him harshly.
once all the boys in the room were standing, all clothed in the same dirty,
grey tunic that barely covered any of our bodies and felt sticky against the
skin we were rounded up into a line, forced to stand straight against one wall.
Someone was breathing too fast on my right side - another was weeping, trying
unsuccessfully to keep the noises he made quiet.
Me… I was too overwhelmed by everything, breathing was too hard to bother with
it, crying made my eyes burn and I had no desire to be the one getting hurt
again for making too much noise.
“Not one of you is worth the money they bought you for.” A man, a man I knew-
dressed in white, moving through the room, surrounding the line slowly,
sometimes stopping to raise a boy’s face with his finger and examining it with
his small, black eyes.“Not yet, but each of you will earn that money for us,
one way or another.” He eventually stopped next to me – I raised my head
without him having to do it for me, catching him smirking at me. He raised his
hand and brought it to my forehead, touching it, touching something on it and
thathurtso much but I bit my lip and kept quiet. “We will make sure that our
investments in you are paid off.”
He continued walking, not stopping again until he got to the end of the line.
“Each of you will now be given a tag with a number, you will wear the tag on
your foot and you will not take it off, you will remember the number and answer
to it, none of you have a name any more, none of you have a family any more,
you don’t have a past beyond yesterday and you don’t have a future. You are
slaves, you will remain slaves for the rest of your short lives. You had a
taste of what your lives are going to be like yesterday night…” He smirked
again, holding his hands behind his back. “Not a nice experience, was it? But…
you will learn to like being fucked. You are all just a bunch of little whores
in the making.” He started walking again, I followed him with my eyes, biting
my lip when he passed by me again.
“I’m not… I am not.” I murmured, closing my eyes and averting my face to
prepare for the impending blow, but that didn’t come. Instead a hand grabbed
the collar of my tunic and pulled me forward, bringing my face closer than it
should be to the man in white’s – his face severe, his nostrils wide – he was
mad and I was scared .
“You are not? Is that right?” he put me down, patting on my shoulders gently.
“You are not a whore, you are a slut.” He slurred and smiled viciously, turning
his back to me, “You will like it so much – you will beg to be fucked all day
and night.”
“N-no, no.” I whispered, tears again burning in my eyes, behind me I heard all
the other boys starting to deny the words too, the man’s eyes thinned and his
teeth were bared. I was scared, I was shaking, he was going to hit me… but I
knew he was lying.  I was not a whore, I knew what whores were, whores hanged
around the corner of the street and they did… they did things with men like
what they did to me the day before for money, I was not like that, I was not.
And I didn’t like it, I never could like something that hurt so much… “I am
not… I will not be like you say!” I shouted at him and at the next moment – I’m
on the floor, my head bashed into the tiles brutally.
“There’s always a little smart-ass like you who open his mouth and make a big
speech…” he whispered into my ear, “You know what happens to little smart-
assess? And their little supporters?” He said the last part out loud, causing
the talking and shouting of the other boys silence at once. “They get fucked…
right here, still wet with the cum of whoever it was that took their virginity
 the night before and their own blood, in front their little friends so they
can be used as an example.”   
I whimpered, and then I cried as my only coverage was torn away from my body,
trying the slip out of the man’s hands grabbing on me, holding me down. “Look
at this, boys… this is what happens here when you don’t behave –“ both my
thighs were grabbed and spread apart and something cold and plastic like rubbed
against me, something vibrated against my skin and then… it pressed into a very
specific spot and begun to enter it, excruciatingly cold against the warm
orifice. “N-no! p-please no, no!” I screamed onto the floor, tears and snot
smearing over my face and the floor, “Help me! P-please, please someone…
please... no…” it pushed inside me and it was too big - I was too small… my
screaming voice died down with a choked whimper as the length of the vibrating
object was pushed further, pulsing ferociously inside me… when they stopped
pushing it inside I was out of breathe, my mouth was dry and I felt like I had
swallowed grains of sand. Something leathery was strapped around my thighs
tightly – I think to keep that thing from falling out… and I was forced to get
up with it subtly moving inside me, I could feel it inside, going on as far as
my stomach - causing my body to tremble and wobble unsteadily. I was not even
able to cry loudly now, only the occasional tear moistening my dry, swollen
eyes.
“Come on, slut, show your friends how beautifully you take a ten inch vibrator…
all the way to the hilt… no need to feel ashamed, spread your thighs…” a metal
rod slithered on my skin, and I complied with the order – parting my legs the
farthest I could, panting as the object moved a bit inside me. “Look at that;
simply lovely… you must be a natural talent.” the rod hit my bottom suddenly
and I screamed in pain when the vibrator pushed further inside me before
returning to its former position, still too deep. “It will stay inside you for
now. Go back to the line. Anyone else wants a cock shoved up their ass? Don’t
be shy… No?” I caught a few terrified stares in my direction, and I took them
with a defeated face, staring down at the floor.  “Okay then. Let’s get you
cleaned up and treated for wounds or infections or disease that could infests
those pretty, young bodies of yours… you all have a training to go through
before we can sell or even rent you to anyone.”
 
I had many horrible days in my life, days that I wished I would die, days that
I wished that I’d never been born at all.
This one day was in my top five shittiest days.
   
   
Chapter End Notes
     um, so, anyway.
     Derek why you so fluffy and adorable.
***** Chapter 14 *****
Chapter Notes
     FINALLY! Oh god that was long.
     Sorry for the wait, it really is a long chapter.
     Have fun reading, and review if you feel like it! your feedback is
     what keeps this story alive.
 
Derek was looking at me. He was looking at me for a long time, observing my
face in preparation for another outburst while I was slurping from a hot cup of
soup and attempting to ignore him.
“Must have been… a pretty bad dream?” he mentioned eventually, he was trying to
smile but all he managed was an uncomfortable grimace. I didn’t raise my head,
still slurping loudly and pretending I didn’t hear him. “Do you want, um…” he
closed his eyes and sighed when I turned my back to him. I was unwilling to
listen to anything he or anyone else who have made the decision said. “Look, I
know I did some shitty stuff to you, but I’m really trying to repent here.” I
didn’t respond, slurping on my soup even louder. “Seriously? Eros, look at me.”
I flinched at the sound of my name and turned around. Derek stood with his hand
in his hair, rubbing it against his scalp as he sighed and closed his eyes.
“I… don’t need a doctor.” Not the kind they have in the Market – I didn’t say
that, even if I did they wouldn’t listen to me, they wouldn’t understand. I was
much better off staying home and working, the sickness would probably just pass
on its own eventually, I already felt better, the rest must have helped –
Derek watched me with tired eyes as I emptied my stomach into a paper bag that
he had prepared before, he came to sit by my side and stroked my back softly as
I heaved and coughed into the bag, struggling to breathe through my nose with
the smell of my waste attacking it. After I was done Derek laid me down on the
bed again and went to throw the bag away, returning with a new one to replace
it. I covered my head with my blanket, Derek’s blanket, I was still occupying
his room instead of my own. Everything around already smelled like him that’s
although he’d only been here for a couple of days. Maybe he used this room
before Jack bought me? That seemed to make sense, when I did managed to look
around everything was organized neatly, and the room had obviously been lived
in sot that must have been the case. I couldn’t imagine returning to my own
room now – the memory of what happened there made every aspect of my sickness
even worse. I believed Derek had cleaned up the mess of semen and blood on my
sheets and on my floor since no one made any comment about it, did it really
matter to them at all though? Maybe Jack and Isabelle went to my room, maybe
they saw and knew what happened, and maybe it didn’t matter to them at all?
Derek said that if I told them they wouldn’t have let it happen to me, but who
could really tell if that was true? Maybe they approved this in the first
place. Jack didn’t seem to mind when I was passed from hand to hand during his
party, when people touched me and talked about me like I wasn’t even there, as
if I was some amusement dog doing tricks for their pleasure, he didn’t mind
when I was treated like that, why would he care for someone using me in other
ways?
“I can see you panicking under there. I already told you, Jack is not returning
you or replacing you or whatever your paranoid mind has thought up – we are
just going to see a doctor and come back.” Derek said loudly, he pulled the
blanket from my head and I covered it with shaking hands instead, I didn’t want
him to see that I was crying again, that my flesh was flushed red and that I
still had filth on the side of my mouth and on my chin, I didn’t want him to
know how scared I was – of him, of Jack, of being sent back to that place where
my fate had already been sealed. But he knew – I could see it on his face
through the cracks between my arms, he knew everything I was thinking from the
moment I woke up crying and panting with the horrible feelings from my
nightmares still attacking my body both mentally and physically, Derek saw
right through me. “Eros, show me your face.” He whispered, his hand took slight
hold of my wrist, moving it away. He wiped the tears from my eyes and the filth
stuck against my skin with a moist towel, his face was above mine as he gently
swiped the warm towel against my skin, from the corners of my eyes down my
cheeks - over my sweating forehead. When he was done his hand still embraced my
face gently, and his face was getting closer to mine – his other hand still had
mine in its grip, which was now tightening quite a bit. “Hey…“he muttered, his
lips now so much closer to mine. “Even if they wanted to replace you – which
they don’t - I would never let them.” My other hand, the one that wasn’t caught
in Derek’s grip climbed slowly to his chest, I tried pushing him but my body
was too weak to do more than rest again him and tremble intensely. His hand
moved to my hair, his other one tightened further around my wrist, holding me
down, not that I could get up anyway – he kissed the skin above my lips, and
then my upper lip- there was nothing that I could do against him, and if there
was – I wasn’t sure that I would want to do it. His skin was warm against mine
and I wanted it closer, I wanted him to take me – make sure I was his so no one
can take me away – it was a ridiculous thing, I wouldn’t be his either way.
The decision whether to keep me or not was not his to make, but hearing him
promise, hearing him say those things was enough to make my inflamed body do
just what he bid and open my mouth to let him in.
Derek’s hand climbed to my hair, his tongue parted my lips further and slipped
inside my mouth, exploring for a while before finding my own, his fingers
tangled further with my hair, and my own hand found its way to the back of his
neck, pulling him against me. His taste was lemony, but also sweet and warm.
The kiss was nothing like others I have experienced - it wasn’t sloppy, I
didn’t feel like I was suffocating and the need to throw up wasn’t present as
much as it was with other people - granted, that might have been because I just
did puke moments before. It didn’t seem to bother Derek though and he didn’t
stop for even a breath of air, we both were engrossed with each other bodies,
hands roaming over skin, under clothing, lips clashing passionately - until it
all stopped.
A knock on the door caused Derek to jump away, cutting whatever it was that the
both of us did abruptly and leaving me to sink back onto the mattress, panting
and blinking confused as the euphoric feeling left my body and cleared the path
for the pain to crawl back and take possession of my body. Derek stood,
gingerly straightening his clothes as Jack came into the room, he observed the
both of us carefully and silently, his eyes moving from Derek to me - did he
suspect anything? Did it even matter? It did to Derek – he looked worried,
eyeing the floor in concentration and avoiding eye contact from both Jack and
me.
“How do you feel?” he asked, smiling as I hesitated to answer at first, “you
look a bit better than before - the colour came back to your face.” he
mentioned, his hand moving to feel my forehead, “still have a fever though…”
“I feel fine.” I whispered as his hand moved to my cheek, biting my lip. “I can
go back to work now, really.”
he just smiled at me and shook his head, dismissing my efforts without paying
them any more thought. “We’ll see what the doctor say.”
Without me and Jack noticing, Derek left the room and left us alone in it. Jack
didn’t acknowledge that fact, and instead just kept talking about the Market
and how nice were the people with whom he spoke on the phone, and how they
promised that they’ll care good care of me - I knew the phrases he repeated in
my ears, and they never meant good things. When I heard any staff member at the
Market say them, my day would end with me being barely able to stand because of
beatings or other but not less painful forms of ‘care’.
I couldn’t stand to see how convinced Jack was by their lies, how he preferred
their words to my own – sure I wasn’t very healthy, but I could go back to work
after resting a bit more, I knew that I’d be fine, It always was fine in the
market or with my previous masters – they never let me rest, even if I was
beaten badly or if I felt bad – which honestly was most of my life, I was never
treated for anything less than an infection or a disease that could actually
damage my selling potential – throwing up and having a headache barely
qualified as one or the other.
“-And Derek is going to be there with you all the time, they said that he can
come into the examination room with you if you want…” Jack continued talking
and talking, I was barely listening anymore and realised what he had said with
a bit of a delay. I raised my eyes to look at him so abruptly that it surprised
him, making him stop talking. He looked nervous as he looked at me, his hand
moving toward the paper bag on the nightstand.
“Y-you are… you are not coming?” I whispered and relief spread over the man’s
face quickly as he sighed and closed his eyes, the smile returning to his lips.
“No – I’ll drive the two of you over there and come pick you up, I have a
meeting.”
I probably should have been relieved to have Derek come along instead of Jack,
the first did promise me he would not let them replace me – but… Jack was my
owner, he was the one who paid for me, the one who had the authority to make
any decision in regard to me. What could Derek do if they decided to keep me
there – could they do that? I knew better than ask such questions – they could
do anything they wanted –
Jack patted my shoulder, cutting my line of thought short. “You are ok to get
dressed on your own?” he asked, his face once again decorated by worry lines. I
nodded silently, knowing what this meant. “Good, I’ll send Derek over to fetch
you in twenty minutes.”
Once he left, giving me one last smile before he walked about the door and
lingering as if expecting me to smile back, I got up quickly, trying to ignore
the dizziness attacking me and walk in a wobbly kind of a straight line to my
closet, picking clothes that were both warm and spacious, not suffocating nor
tight. I managed to take off the pyjamas Derek dressed me with by myself,
managing not to fall to the floor while dressing my legs. When finally I was
done, I let myself fall back on my mattress. It took much more energy than it
should have, and I was panting slightly – not yet noticing Derek standing at
the entrance to the room, a smirk adorning his lips and his eyes following me
around the room, who knows how long he’d been there.
I found that I didn’t really care that much.
“We need to get going.” He said and I closed my eyes, I bit my lips until I
felt the taste of blood before getting up, my body was empty, I had no energy
to keep myself up any longer, and Derek came to my aid when he saw me stumble,
grabbing my arm to keep me up.
 
The drive went by quietly, Jack drove and Derek sat in the front seat next to
him, neither of them talked and the radio stayed off. The only noises came from
the car itself – it’s wheels turning and grinding against the road, the wind
swishing away outside the windows… it was soothing, like a lullaby, and though
sleep was way out of my reach, chased away from me by the dread of our
destination, I found myself laying back against the sit with my head empty of
thought and my body comfortable and relaxed.
We only had to stop on the side of the road once to let me empty my stomach.
 
The Market remained like I remembered it, a grim and dark place hiding behind
shining walls of glass and a big lightened sign, people walking around with
their noses lifted high, looking down on everyone else, commenting crudely on
the appearances and demeanours of the figures residing inside the large tubes,
those also made of clear, shining glass.
I pulled on Derek’s sleeve desperately, looking around, seeing the eyes of
others slaves looking back at me through the glass, seeing empty tubes waiting
to be filled— “I really feel better…” I whispered when he turned to look at me,
Derek’s smiled in apology and took my hand, he shook his head no, and continued
walking. I turned my gaze down and followed him blindly, not wanting to see the
other slaves, the traders walking by us, taking care to show the metal strapped
to their belts as they passed, smirking when I balked from them and clung to
Derek who seemed to have hastened his steps a bit, perhaps after noticing my
unusual need for his closeness.
“Hi, we have a doctor’s appointment.” Derek said after suddenly stopping in
place, causing me to raise my eyes only slightly to see who he was talking to.
It was a slave – black haired, marble like eyes, wearing the Market’s uniform
and the traders’ usual smirk. It was an uncommon sight, an unusual occurrence
that a slave worked at the market, and was not offered as merchandise himself.
Those who did were either whores who gave their bodies to the traders to play
with so they could get the privilege of walking around instead of staying
trapped in the glass, or have just grown up to be unattractive enough to be
sold. This one, without a doubt - was a whore.
He gave Derek a smile and a small bow, making sure to maintain eye contact with
him with a seductive gaze, to which Derek did not respond with anything but a
twitch of his arm. I felt sick, looking at him made my stomach clench. “Of
course,” The slave moved his eyes to me “Just let me check some details.” He
came near me, hauling out a round and flat device with a vibrant colorful
screen. He looked at it intently before raising it before my face and holding
it there, for a while nothing happened, then the device beeped once just before
everything started hurting, then numbing down, blackening…
I could feel Derek’s arms holding my body up, hoisting me away from the floor
and positioning themselves under my arms and knees, I could hear his voice
yelling and saying my name, again and again and again. My head hurt, and the
taste in my mouth meant that I have probably let the contents of my nearly
empty stomach out on the floor. The thought gave me and hint of elation, but it
was shrouded by pain and noise and blackness.
When I finally regained my senses I was laying on a plank with a thin mattress
splayed carelessly on it, at least that’s how my back felt laying on the stiff
material. I kept my eyes closed after peeking once and seeing nothing but a
white light in front of me, I decided I rather remain in the dark.
“A thin structure, seems like he put on a bit of weight since the last check
up, a round face, brown hair-” “Auburn” someone cut the chirpy voice of the
black haired slave severely, his voice sullen and low, familiar but not in a
way that is good in any of scenario I could think of, “the data is incorrect,
make sure its revised when we’re done.”
I opened my eyes slowly, once again my eyes were attacked by the bright white
light which was obstructed then by the murky shape of the other slave’s face.
“Uh- yeah, of course.” he said, his smile fading as he raised his round device
again, “Turquoise eyes… um, is that right?” I blinked a few time, the dullness
of my vision started to pass away, as it did the same in my mind. “Yes, a
peculiar shade isn’t it? Very rare.” I realised a bit by bit in what situation
I was, who were the ones talking and whose voice I didn’t hear at all.
“De-Derek…” my voice came out choppy, and went ignored by the two figures
circling me and talking about me like they’d talk about a broken chair. Derek
wasn’t there, he said he would be there, he said he wouldn’t leave me--! I
cackled his name again, trying to look around me but something limited me, held
my head down and constricted my neck so much that moving it even a bit made me
gasp for air. A cold touch on my thigh made me realise that I was naked from my
waist down, and as the touch moved across my skin the voices continued the
discussion of my bodily features Offhandedly. “His hair have grown about five
centimetres since the last check-up, his genetics were never altered…” the
slave stopped talking suddenly, breathing out slowly before continuing with a
voice lower and much less cheerer than it was before. “Some marks on his skin
reflects a recent, um, encounter-“
“Say it properly, Myron.” The dull voice said and the other slave’s breath
hitched. He repeated his first words again slowly, like reading out a script.
His voice started trembling at one point. “The marks on the body reflects the
use of #Xa3124 in purpose of achieving sexual satisfaction, by the means of
light abuse, bondage and penetration.” I squirmed at the cold touch climbed to
the cleft between my thigh and crotch, touched my limp member and stroked along
it.
I croaked Derek’s name again as tears burned in my eyes, followed by a panicked
line of “Stop”s, “No”s and more whines trying to be words of rejection. The
hand moved away, and into my tearful, dim sight came a figure dressed in white.
The boy continued talking, moving away from the subject of my rape, to areas a
bit more comfortable as the remains of the many scars on my body that have
still not faded.
The man in white came closer to me, looking at me with his eyes squinted and
brows furrowed in annoyance as they always were, he sent his hand to my neck
and I tried to squirm away from it without success, only with a cough and a gag
when my neck was  restrained again. The man in white looked at me with furrowed
eyebrows, his hand sliding across my neck, touching my Adam’s apple and moving
a finger on the length of the leather collar around my neck. With a click the
collar opened and I immediately raised my body, springing back to get away from
him, only to have my ankle grabbed and pulled forcefully and suddenly and fall
on my back again. “Stay still or the collar comes back on.” The man warned in
his gruff voice and I retaliated with a small, defeated grunt caused by a swirl
of colors flooding my darkened sight. “Less than a month and you’re already
back here, isn’t that a record time?” he then added, his fingers tracing the
lines of my foot softly, enough that I just barely felt his fingers fluttering
around my ankle.
I kept quiet, trying to ignore his fingers moving, touching, pinching and
grabbing. I let my head fall to the side, felt my eyes burning with tears when
he pulled my leg up and straddled my thighs ignoring my chanted pleas for him
to stop as he cupped my privates in his hand, observing them from several
angles and fondling them not so gently. Finally he let go, scribbling something
on a small pad he held, nodding to himself.
“Myron, go fetch his supervisor, offer him something to drink and a tour.
Before you come back here.” Myron nodded and the smile came back to his face
almost as quickly as it gone before and he left hastily after bowing his head.
the man in white came closer to me again and pulled a chair to sit next to me.
“Hello.” he said quietly and I averted my head, suddenly feeling very sick
again. “It’s… hmm, some  eccentric greek name, now, isn’t it?” he said and I
could imagine a smile creeping to his lips. “Eros. Your owner is a very tacky
man.” his hand moved to my face, grabbing them and making me look at him. “And
very  lascivious too, or was that the boy who came with you?” he said quietly,
“it’s good you came in when you did, the gash on your head could get infected.
And those vicious lacerations down there…” he tsked, shaking his head slightly.
“You struggled, didn’t you? always such a naughty boy, aren’t you? from the
very first day…”
I held my tongue, not countering his taunt with the fact that this time I
didn’t struggle at all. he wouldn’t care, he would probably punish me for even
talking, and I didn’t think I was capable of enduring a hit by a metal rod, not
while barely being able to keep my eyes open or my breathing steady. the man
looked at me silently for a while longer, not doing a thing to ease my pain or
even dignified me by covering my privates. he only got up when the door came
open again, not covering me as he went to greet Derek.
“He got panicked when I was conducting a physical exam, he seems to have gotten
injured in a few… sensitive locations.” He gave Derek a glare and the youth
averted his look from him with a bit of shame in his eyes, I didn’t understand
why - it wasn’t he who caused the wounds… “He also had a big gash on his head,
it should have been treated right after he got it, luckily it wasn’t infected.
I would attribute most of his supposed illness to loss of blood and trauma.”
“Supposed? he was throwing up just fifteen minutes ago!” Derek said quietly as
he came closer to me, “he looks like he’s been through hell, you call that
supposed illness?” his hand went to my arm when I turned to look at him, seeing
the angry expression as he observed my body. it made me feel a little better,
knowing that he would not take their crap for granted, the man simply shrugged
and rolled his eyes.
“Perhaps he caught a virus of some sorts, as far as our monitors show there is
nothing wrong with him other than what I already said.” He said scornfully. “I
will prescribe some antibiotics and vitamins for him, but there is no much else
I can do.” he came closer, catching Derek’s eyes and robbing his attention from
me. “Not for him. To you - to his master, we can offer a replacement.”
 
***** Chapter 15 *****
Chapter Notes
     Urgh, this chapter didn't come out well. Sorry guys.
     Hope you enjoy it anyway :(
 
I felt Derek’s hand grazing the skin of my arm and watched as his eyes focused
at the man who stood before us with grave displeasure. “First,” He said raising
his head as he prolonged his first word, “First, you make me stay outside the
room, though we were told I could come in with him. Then you don’t let him have
even a shred of dignity while you examine him, getting him to experience a
fucking panic attack - and that is not even true is it? I have seen him get
panic attacks, several today actually, right now he just looks shit-scared and
humiliated.”
He stopped for a breath, then turned his back to both me and the man in white
who glared at his back with malice. He went to one corner of the room then
returned with my clothes folded in his hands, He handed them to me.
Derek was raged, disconcerted, and yet he still managed to smile at me when our
eyes met, managing to squeeze a small smile from me too as he turned to face
the man in white again. “And offering me to replace him as if he is broken
furniture? Who the fuck do you think I am?” Derek fixed his gaze at the man who
stood there with his hands in the pockets of his coat, his eyes unfazed by
Derek’s words.
“Such ugly words coming out of such an attractive mouth.” the man murmured to
himself in a tone that had both me and Derek twitch under his gaze as he drew
near. “I would advise you don’t use such words, young mister. I was merely
letting you know of the option so you can pass the information to this slave’s
real Master, I’m making a recommendation, that is all.” he came closer,
prompting Derek to raise, concealing me from the man’s eyes with his body. “You
coddle and admire him so much, trying to appease him when the nature of things
is for those relations to be reversed.” The man said, stopping only a few mere
steps from Derek, enough that if he bent a little, their faces would clash. “A
slave, especially this one, is a crumb of dirt, worse than an animal, worth
less than broken furniture, as you put it. It will be best for you to
understand that now.” The man pulled a small pad and a pen from his coat’s
pocket, scribbling on one of the pages for a few moments.
I couldn’t see Derek’s face as he stood with his back to me and facing the man,
but I could see the flinch in his arm and the way his fingers clenched together
to form a fist. I couldn’t see his expression but I could hear his breath
becoming just a bit faster, see his arm raising, see the realisation on the
man’s face just a moment before he was hit, falling back because of the impact
but remaining on his legs.
“What…” he covered his nose with his hand, his hand and coat turned red by the
stream of blood leaving it’s now broken form, he cursed breathlessly and turned
to Myron – the black haired slave who stood in the corner with a bit of shock
in his eyes, moving his head back and forth between Derek and me, and the man
whose clothes were no longer so white, blotched with red stains. “Call
security, you useless shit.” The man wheezed, turning his look back at us with
rage in his eyes as the slave ran out. “Don’t think for a single moment that
either of you are leaving this room.” He said, his voice sounded whirring, like
he was talking through his now most likely broken nose, it made his threat a
lot less… threatening than he intended and I found myself smiling to myself as
I got dressed with Derek’s help.
“You can’t keep us here, we are going.” Derek said while buttoning a jacket
that I was wearing – one that I didn’t remember putting on before leaving
Jack’s apartment that morning, and probably resided on the other youth’s body
up until this moment. “We are going home.”
He smiled at me, a gentle yet arrogant smirk sprawled across his lips and I
couldn’t ignore how good it made me feel, he made the tension I felt before
slip away for a single moment, before the man started laughing.
“Oh no, no.” he said, my chest suddenly felt heavy, heavier. My chest felt like
a steel hammer had hit it numerous times. “I can’t keep you from leaving, about
that you are right. But I can - and I will confiscate the slave.” The hammer
hit again, harder. I couldn’t breathe. Derek took notice and put a hand on my
shoulder… and it was trembling. Or maybe I was trembling? Someone was.
“You can’t do that.” He said and yes, his voice had a slight vibration of
uncertainty to it, Derek knew that this threat was not an empty one, it was not
a threat at all but a declaration of intent. “Come on Eros… where’re your
shoes...?” Derek’s hand circled my wrist while he looked around the room,
blinking a little more than necessary. “You know what? Never mind the fucking
shoes, let’s go.” He pulled at me and I complied with his tug on my arm
silently, my body was too heavy and too weak to fight him if I wanted to, and I
didn’t. My eyes evaded the long stare from the man still standing in the other
side of the room with his arms crossed, he didn’t follow when we left the room,
didn’t make a comment or talked at all before the door to the room closed
behind us. He did nothing but distort his lips into a fiendish grin and follow
us with his eyes.
 
Derek stopped walking after ten minutes or more of getting lost. He turned to
me with eyes full of shame, his grip on my wrist slackened. “I’m sorry.” He
muttered, “I screwed up.”
I bit my lip, I didn’t want to hear it, I didn’t want to talk – didn’t feel
like I actually could at the moment. “You just got lost… we’ll find the way out
soon enough.” I forced the words, trying to look as confident as I couldn’t
feel. Derek smiled bitterly, shaking his head a bit as he took my hand into
his.
“I wasn’t talking about… this… well yeah I was. But it’s just a small part. I
didn’t listen to you… I thought you panicked because of how you felt a-and
because what you went through…” his eyes evaded mine, “what you went through
the night of the party… and what I did to you…"
We both kept quiet for a while, avoiding each other’s eyes. I didn’t know what
to say, did he think I could forgive so fast? That I could forget? And why not,
actually? I felt something toward Derek that I didn’t feel in my life, and
while contempt towards him seemed to have taken permanent residence in my mind
I could not fathom having to lose his presence. He protected me, he cared for
me and what he wanted in return was something that I could give, that I have
had taken forcefully for so many years.
“However bad you think any of those… events… were,” I started, opening my eyes
to look at the disconcerted youth in front of me, “I’ve been through worse.”
With that I started walking again, my hand tightening around Derek’s, reluctant
to let it go and lose him any time before it became inevitable. I didn’t know
if they could really take me away, I knew that they would try, and that they
knew and could create and change the rules as they saw fit. And what would
Derek do if they decided to take me? What could he do to prevent it? Jack was
the one, the only one who could salvage me from their hands, he was the one who
owned me, not them, not Derek… certainly not myself. Derek didn’t seem to be
satisfied with my words.
“Just let me apologize…” he muttered, catching my rushing speed and coming to
walk just beside me. I sighed, not turning my face to look at him as I
continued walking, rushing my steps further when I heard the increasing volume
of people talking, we were closer to the exit…
“You did apologize. Two minutes ago, remember?”
Derek squinted his eyes and focused his look at me “I did but you didn’t
acknowledge it, so-“
I stopped walking, my hand tugging on Derek’s arm so he would too and turned my
eyes to him. “What kind of acknowledgment do you want?” I whispered dryly, “how
am I supposed to show you I’ve forgiven you when I didn’t and won’t-- not now…
not in the foreseeable future? Was I supposed to thank you? Maybe kiss you like
you did while I was too weak and feeble to express any objection I had to that-
“
Derek’s hand on my wrist tightened before letting go suddenly, his eyes seemed
to have grown a shade darker when he looked at me with his mouth a bit agape.
“Eros, no. You kissed me back.” He stated, “You didn’t haveany objection to it,
you wanted it just as much as I did. I did some horrible stuff to you but that
kiss… you do not get to distort that kiss.”
“You never asked me if it was something that I wanted.” I whispered, trying to
prove him wrong as I knew he was. I wanted that kiss? I hated it… I despised
the feeling of it even if at the time I didn’t know it, even if at the time, it
seemed like the best thing that could have happened… “And even if you did… was
I in any condition to know what I was saying? What I was doing? I couldn’t
think straight, it’s you who are twisting and distorting what had happened,
it’s you who is trying to make it into something you want it to be… trying to
make it seem like I am the one who wanted it to happen in the first place,
manipulating me into thinking it myself…”
The hurt expression on Derek’s face almost caused me to pause, I wanted to stop
– he didn’t do the things I accused him of, he didn’t do them knowingly, he
wasn’t… “You are like the people working here, you are exactly the same!” My
voice was trembling so badly in the end –it broke, air could barely get to my
lungs or leave them. I felt like I was suffocating again. Sweat run down my
temple and I wiped it, taking a moment to organize my irregular breathes and
collect my limbs into working order again before returning my eyes, terrified,
to Derek.
“Was that everything you wanted to say?” his eyes looked at me intensely before
moving away, his voice was… erratically different, I didn’t know how. Not cold
or unemotional, not without care or feeling, it was simply different. I opened
my mouth but without anything else to say, and with an apology trapped in my
throat I closed it soon. “Got it. Let’s go home.”
Now I knew what was different. His voice was no longer coddling and comforting,
not trying to be softer and calming. It was the voice with which Derek would
speak to Jack and Isabelle, the voice he used back in that room – rebellious, a
bit angry. I didn’t notice the difference before – now it suddenly was almost
like a different person talking. So much so that at first I was uneasy with
taking the hand he offered me, and too stunned to move when he grabbed my wrist
and pulled me, not violently – just a tad more forcefully than he would have
before.
“Don’t be hard now-“ Derek grit his teeth, “once we get home I won’t touch you
anymore, ever. Okay? Let’s go.” He tugged on my wrist again and I moved, my
gaze falling to the floor as I followed him, not talking anymore, not seeing
each other, not feeling the touch of his fingers around my wrist.
 
I almost forgot the collar was ever on my neck. Forgot the relief of when it
was taken off, the way air was so much easier to access. How constricting it
was.
That’s why I struggled the most when they tried to put it back on.
“Fuck. He bit me!” the trader tore his wrist from my tightly shut jaw, hitting
the back of my head to make me open it. “Muzzle him.”
“You can’t do that!” Derek’s voice sounded distant and dimmed as it should have
been had was he in a different room – but I could see him. He was there, just a
short distance away. Why didn’t he come and stop them? Why was he just
shouting? A leather strap was forced into my mouth, above my tongue, cutting
the corners of my mouth as they tied it under my chin and fixed the rest of the
contraption over my mouth and nose. “Take that fucking thing the hell away off
his face!” come and take it off… come and take me away… why wasn’t he coming?
He was just there, he was looking at me, he saw what was happening – why didn’t
he come? My eyes watered and blurred as I felt the constricting leather being
strapped around my neck again, fitted perfectly just as it was when Jack put it
on the first time. Putting an end to whatever sense of choice I felt I had in
the long minutes Derek and I strolled the corridors and empty halls of the
place, searching for a way out.
“His Master may do that if he chooses.” Said the bitten trader, who now stood
and went to stand before Derek, his reflection stern and grim. Reflection.
Derek was behind a wall of glass. He wasn’t with me, he wasn’t there at all.
“Now, Young mister. You agreed to behave if we let you be with him. I’m afraid
that if you keep shouting and pounding the glass we will have to find you
another waiting room to stay at until the Master of this slave comes to pay the
repossession fine.”
“Eros! I’m sorry I—I couldn’t…” Derek’s voice broke, the Trader who stayed next
to me snickered and put a hand on my head to push it down, forcing me to drop
my gaze when Derek tried to get a hold of it. “Jack is coming really soon, I
talked to him and explained, he’s coming, okay? It’s going to be fine.”
The Trader whom I have bitten came back to my side and connected a leash to the
collar, he pulled at it harshly to make me get up on my trembling feet, pulling
me closer to his body. “Do you suppose your Master will even want you anymore?”
he whispered in my ear, pulling on the lease when I tried to jerk my head away,
“They are going to offer him a different slave, a better one… do you think that
lover of yours will stay faithful when you’re replaced?” I twitched and tried
to move my head again, only to have my body thrown toward the glass wall,
forced to my knees by a heavy hand on my shoulder. “On your knees facing the
glass, you know the position.” The trader said while tying the short leash to a
handle attached to the floor “Eyes down. Stay.” He laughed when I complied,
tears running down my face as I heard Derek cursing on the other side of the
wall so close but completely unreachable.
 
 
 
 
 
***** Chapter 16 *****
Chapter Notes
     My computer is still not back... /weep/
     but I have a replacement, so you guys get a new chapter! woohoo!
 
As if it turned to a boulder of rock my head felt too heavy to keep it up, my
eyes burned too much to keep them open. I longed for rest, begged for a few
moments of sleep. Nobody was there to hear me, no one gave their attention to
my muffled sobbing voice and soon - that too became too hard to let out of my
churning throat, and it ceased.
The room beyond the glass, the one that Derek was in now became empty and dark.
He left like everyone else, abandoning me in the claustrophobic space
surrounded by glass and darkness and silence.
I couldn’t move from my place, couldn’t lay down or change my position. I
couldn’t call out for someone’s help and even keeping my eyes open seemed to
take every last bit of energy I had. The gag kept me from calling out for Derek
or Jack to come back, to take me away from there. Why were they gone? Maybe
Jack did decide to take a different slave… maybe staying here like this for
hours upon hours meant… maybe it meant just that.
“...And why did they constrict his mouth?” light flooded the room suddenly,
accompanied by an unfamiliar female voice. “Really?” a laugh made me jerk my
head, trying to turn it to the source of the voice - painfully unsuccessfully.
“Well, he probably deserved it, the bastard. He never knew quite how to handle
them.” another laugh, getting closer. “Yeah, looks relaxed enough… I’ll call if
there are any problems. Don’t worry.”
Something was moving at the corner of my eye, just behind me, and I couldn’t
turn to see who or what it was. I whined into my gag as I felt a hand moving
close to my neck. Touching my nape and my hair. A voice, the same one, made a
shushing voice. “Don’t worry… everything is okay…” the voice said calmly. “Let
me get that thing off your face, okay? Promise you won’t bite me?” she, I was
sure now that it was a woman, giggled at her own quip. “stay still… here’s a
good boy.” the contraption tension on my face slackened as she unfastened the
straps on the back of my head, letting it fall on the floor once I let my lips
open and released the leathery strap resting on my tongue fall out, followed by
a set of strangled coughs I held up until that moment.
She moved to my front, kneeling on one leg as one of her thick hands touched my
shoulder lightly, stroking it sympathetically while her other hand pulled a
small plastic bottle from a bag she carried. She uncorked it and tipped it over
my mouth, encouraging me with a kindly voice to open my lips further and let
the substance in the bottle pass them. It was water, cold and accompanied by a
weird aftertaste. Not similar to the mineral water Isabelle insisted everyone
drank. It wasn’t bad, just a little different than I’ve grown accustomed to. It
soothed my aching throat and moistened my dry mouth just the same, and that was
enough.
I lifted my eyes to look at her face, round, dark skinned and compassionate
looking. She tipped the bottle a bit more, allowing me to get a few more
swallows from the stream before putting it away, afterwards moving her hand to
wipe remaining liquids from the corners of my mouth with a small napkin. I
closed my eyes, turning my head away from her touch.
“#Xa3124” her voice said softly, then it paused for a moment as if awaiting my
reaction. She repeated the number again and paused, sighing after a few moments
in which I gave her no reaction, remaining in the same position with my head
hung in the air, eyes half closed in my exhaustion. “Eros?” I opened my eyes a
little more, raising my face a bit when my name was called. She sighed again.
“Eros-” she repeated, a bit sternly and with her smile fading slowly. “-Is not
your name.” I lowered my head again, flinching when she extended her hand to
touch my face, sliding a finger under my jaw. “It’s not yours, do you
understand? It’s theirs… you can’t keep it while you’re here.” she stroked my
suddenly wet cheek, wiping the salty tears starting to leak from my half closed
eyes. She said the number again and this time I turned to look at her, finding
the smile back on her face. Her hand moved to stroke my hair, moving it to
reveal my eyes to her.
“Jack… replaced me…” my voice came out broken, too weak to raise above the
silence that surrounded us. I meant to ask, not say. I wanted myself to keep
that shred of a doubt, believe there was some chance that I would get out of
here, that the last few weeks… so few... were not going to end, not like that…
“No dear… not yet.” her hand stroked my hair as I raised my head, she smiled
kindly with dimples appearing in her round cheeks. “Do you like him?” she asked
softly, waiting for my reply which I gave quickly, nodding with my eyes closed.
“You like your master… you want to belong to him?” opening my eyes slowly, my
view capturing her concerned smile just before she continued talking “do you
want him to keep you? If you like him like you say… why are you hesitating?”
“Ah- I’m not…” I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t a possession, I wasn’t just
merchandise. The words got stuck in my throat and refused to come out. “I… I
want to b-be-” I want to be with Jack… but how? As a slave? As property? A pet?
I closed my mouth shut and let my head fall, shaking it desperately. No, no. I
didn’t mind doing chores, I didn’t mind doing anything they would ask – I could
handle everything, everything except being that, being treated like that – I
couldn’t- breathing suddenly became harder as tears fell from my eyes, followed
by a set of choked sobs.
The woman sighed, removing her fingers from where she was stroking my skin.
“This is how you get yourself sick…” she muttered, her smile now completely
gone. She prodded her bag and pulled a box of small, pink pills, two of those
she pushed into my throat with two glove clad fingers, forcing my to swallow
despite my attempt to defy her by biting her fingers - to which she responded
with a vicious back handed slap. “Bad boy… you promised you wouldn’t bite me.”
I heaved at her words, finding myself unable to answer as my body began to feel
heavier and harder to keep up. My head became clouded, my vision harder to
focus.  Despite all of that, the tears stopped, and the rate of my heart’s
beating slowed to a right pace, slowly it became easier to breath.
“Look at me.” The woman’s hand still wore the plastic glove she used when she
pushed the pills down my throat, and now she used it to raise my face so I
would meet her eyes.  She repeated her words and said my number again, forcing
me to focus on her voice, on her face. She looked concerned for a moment, then
she smiled. “Feels better now, right?” she asked, tilting her head a bit to the
side. “It takes a while for the medicine to take effect, but it takes care of
the anxiety pretty well.” I kept quiet at her words, turning my eyes again. She
stroked my hair again before releasing the leash that bound me in place from
its hook and took hold of my forearm just below my shoulder, slowly helping me
to my feet. I complied with her movements as she compelled me to follow her and
did so without thinking of why or where we were leaving the room to go to. I
had just one thought, and it kept repeating over and over. “Jack… I want…
Jack…” I whispered without getting an answer, but I didn’t care. I kept saying
it. I wanted Jack to be there, I wanted to tell him I was sorry, that I felt
better…
The woman led me to another room, a furnished room that seemed extremely
familiar – it was the same room I woke up in when Jack took me away from here.
It was a safe space considering its use, which probably was the entertainment
of people who wanted to rent and use their slave under more comfortable
settings than those usually offered to normal costumers.
“Ok… here we go.” The woman sat me down on the bed, where I remained without a
movement. I wanted to fall down on the soft mattress, to lay my head between
the soft pillows and sleep until Jack came to get me, just like the last time
but I remained sitting instead. “I wanted to talk to you for quite a while.”
The woman dragged a chair over and sat in it, crossing her arms over her chest
and her legs on top of each other. She tried to catch my eyes and when she
prevailed the fit she smiled at me, encouraging me to raise my head and look at
her. “#Xa3124, five owners to date, most lengthy period in possession a year,
least – a week. A rich history of escape attempts, violent behavior and general
breakage of the rules.” She paused a moment to catch my eyes and smiled at me,
I remained as I was, unmoving, blank. I heard what she was saying – that I was
violent and undisciplined. It was true, I broke the rules whenever I could, I
cursed and struggled when they’d try to touch me – but everything was in self-
defense, all of my actions created by fear and intimidation, it wasn’t my
fault. What was she trying to say? “Those stats are highly irregular. Most of
the… um, slaves who pass through this facility learn their place quickly
enough, they learn to accept it, find owners who takes care of them… there are
exceptions of course, but not to this extent.”
“I didn’t break.” I whispered, “I am just… better…” I shook her hand away when
it came to touch my shoulder, attempting to squeeze it reassuringly. “I will
never… never accept it. I am not…” my head started buzzing and hurting again,
colors swirled wildly in front of my eyes. “Wha- what did you do to me…?” I
sobbed and tried backing away while she sat still in her chair, looking at me
with concern on her face.                 
“Nothing, honey…” she whispered, “You’re doing this to yourself. You did break,
you’ve been broken for a long time.” She got up and came to sit next to me on
the bed, putting her hand on my thigh. “Relax… you’re okay. No one is going to
hurt you.” I closed my eyes and tried to repeat her words to myself, tried to
believe them. I felt her hand climb to my shoulder and opened my eyes when she
pulled me to her, hugging my shivering form tightly. “You are fighting yourself
because you believe in this misguided notion that you are somehow different
than all those other boys and girls, you believe it so much that hearing you
are not and knowing it’s true is hurting you this much. Isn’t this enough?
Isn’t seven years of suffering enough?”
“It’s not true!” I yelled, pushing her away, “This… being… being that… it’s not
me…” she was lying, she didn’t know anything, and who is she to say those
things anyway? I never met her before, she knew nothing about me… “Y-you did
something to me… t-this never happened before…”
She sighed, pulling out the same box of pills from before but after looking at
it for a moment she changed her mind and put it back in her bag, she raised her
eyes to me. “Why do you like him so much?” she asked, getting up and returning
to her seat. “Tell me, what is so great about him – that you want to be with
him this much?”
I whimpered quietly and lowered my head. “Jack… He treats me like a pe-person…
He doesn’t hurt me… he doesn’t r-rape me…” my hands clutched on the bed sheets.
“Must have been very hard to hear him say that you are nothing but property to
him, then.”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes, shaking my head violently from side to side.
“N-no! H-he didn’t… he didn’t mean it like that… I… I’m not…” I pulled at the
sheets, wanting to cover myself, hide myself from her eyes, and not hear the
words she said.
“If you are not his possession, not his slave, what are you to him?” she asked
calmly. “He might like you enough to pay the repossession fine and take you
home, but how much more of your denial about his ownership over you do you
think he will be able to take? How long do you think will pass before he tells
you what your true nature is in his eyes? How long before he throws you away…
like all your previous masters did?” she paused a moment, watching me as I
buried my head between the pillows. “Look at yourself, you know what I say is
true, don’t you? It’s tearing you apart but you know what you are. You can have
a great life, maybe with Jack – maybe not… you can have a master who will
treasure and love you and if you stop fighting it, if you accept it you will
learn to love them too.”
I pulled on the pillow I held and buried my head deep in its soft surface, I
felt like a little boy being scolded, and somehow her words hurt more than any
beating session or rape by the traders’ hands. “You are a good boy… you have a
strong spirit, they tried to break it and they’ve done it wrong.” The woman was
closer to me now, hair hand tangled in my hair as she stroked it, her other
hand taking care to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “I wish I could talk to you
sooner, help you understand… your suffering would have come to an end so much
earlier.”
I remained quietly in place as she moved away, returning to her seat and her
bag she started going through it, leaving me to lay down on the bed and ponder
on her words.
I went through my memories, revisiting my owners one by one. Horrible faces
jumped to my mind, furious, monstrous, lascivious… I shuddered when I
remembered their hands on me, the words they said, and their curses when I
fought back. If I didn’t fight… if I never struggled and just let them do it,
if I laid with them willingly or at least with no objection… would they show me
some mercy? Wouldn’t it have been easier to receive the abuse if I just
believed that receiving it was my purpose? I could distance myself from the
pain, I could learn to enjoy the sex, embrace the pleasure and shut away the
pain… other slaves did it, other slaves were bought and so very rarely returned
– they must have learned what I always denied.
 
I didn’t really notice when the woman left the room, leaving me behind. I gazed
at the wall on the other side of the room blankly for a while, waiting for the
headache to completely leave me before attempting to move my eyes from that one
point. I wanted to just stay there forever, never get up to find out what Jack
had decided. Was that good? I was scared, wanting to go home with him would
mean that I accept being his slave or his pet – his possession. It meant
erasing the last seven years of fighting and succumbing to the life I always
had and always denied. Going back with him meant I can’t allow myself to fight
anymore.
But what did staying at the market mean? Could I really go back to the glass
containers, could I really stop fighting the things that frightened me and let
them happen, when they were happening all the time?
Wouldn't it, perhaps… be easier?
The door opened and the woman strolled back in, I raised my head to look at her
and she smiled at me while keeping her concentration on her cellphone, from
which a loud voice spoke, I couldn’t hear the words but its tone was angry and
the sound of it similar. “Ye-… well I’m sorry Mr. Roberts, I don’t know who
made that promise but- No, no not currently. You are welcome to come by and
choose a different slave… The name is Shirley Renner. Yes.  Executive director.
Aha.” She smiled at me encouragingly “Yes, Mr. Roberts, I look forward to
seeing you again at the Market, aha, bye-bye. What a complete creep this man
is.” She sighed and shut her phone before saying the last words as she came to
sit in the chair in front of me and crossed her legs with slight annoyance
showing on the features of her round face. “It’s unfortunate that we cannot
afford to filter the people who come here to buy a slave, if I could do that
the man would have been banned for life, I swear to god.”
 I sat up, wiping my dry eyes once before I looked at her quietly for a few
moments. “I… m-may I speak… ma’am?” my voice was shaking, the words barely left
my mouth without breaking. She grinned widely, nodding her consent. “You were…
that man- he wanted to buy me…” my voice broke and I closed my eyes,
remembering the man’s face, the touch of his skin on mine, the smell of sweat
and perfume oozing from his body while he fucked me as part of a punishment
what seemed like so long ago. “I-if he can’t… is Ja- m-my master… taking me
back?”
“You really are a smart boy… and very good as well.” She paused a moment and
her eyes travelled along my figure for a moment, the smile on her lips not
leaving them for a moment. “Yes Eros, you are going home.”
***** Chapter 17 *****
Chapter Notes
     Thank you everyone who sent me asks on my Tumblr! it's super
     exciting!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Breathing. Breathing is important, and too hard.
How was I supposed to breathe, I wonder, when every single intake of air made
my throat burn as if acidic? How was I supposed to breathe when every try to
inhale ended up hitching in my throat, refusing to arrive at my lungs?
I closed my eyes, trying desperately and without success not to panic at the
feeling of delicate hands buckling the leather straps of the same muzzle they
took off before, securing them tightly on the back of my head, I tried to
remind myself her words about it coming off when Jack takes me home, I tried to
focus on that – Jack taking me home… but somehow the thought stressed me even
further.
Shirley paused her work for a moment, lifting my face by the chin so I would
meet her gaze. “Do you need a few more moments?” she asked quietly, giving me a
cheering smile. “I’m sure your master is willing to wait for a bit longer…”
My body went stiff, I shook my head while trying to regulate my inefficient,
shallow breathes through the gag. I wanted to see Jack, I wanted to go home
with him – I wanted to… so much…
“Are you sure?” Shirley’s voice passed by my ear with a gush of cold air and I
shuddered as her hand moved along my skin, wiping new tears that had found
their way down my cheeks. “Are you scared?” I shook my head again, then paused,
then nodded slightly, just once. I closed my eyes as I felt her hand move from
the back of my head to my neck, tracing the outlines of my collar before taking
hold of the leash attached to it. She took it in her hand and compellingly
pulled it after her as she got up, encouraging with sweet voiced whispers to
follow her step as she took me through unfamiliar corridors and rooms, and I
followed her blindly, shutting out the sights of traders and clients walking
around, chattering gleefully while walking around to choose new slaves, I
attempted to ignore the cat calls from both clients and traders as we passed
through the mass of men. I tried, inefficiently, not to make a sound as I felt
sneaking touches brushing against my body, one just touching, another daring to
squeeze or pinch at the flesh of my behind – causing me to whine into the gag
and hasten my steps, walking closer to Shirley who held onto the leash tightly,
suddenly concerned that I might change my mind and bolt. If I did that she will
abolish whatever arrangement Jack had with the Market, she’d have me stay here
and try to morph me into something else, and maybe she would succeed, and maybe
that would be better…
“Eros!” I raised my head at the sound of my name being called, dropping any
thoughts I had at the sight of Jack’s smile as he walked toward us. I stayed
still where I stood, for a moment looking at him, taking in the sight of his
slightly unkempt hair, the way his skin lined with wrinkles of worry and his
eyes had dark rings around them – then I lowered my eyes. I could feel the
concern in Jack’s voice washing over me when he squatted in front of me, his
hands grabbing tightly on my slack shoulder as he tried to catch my eyes, an
attempt I did my best to avoid letting him complete successfully for I knew I
would not be able to hold myself – I’d fall, crying, into his arms the moment
our gazes met… I had to be better, I had to keep the ounce of pride I had left,
even while acting the part – even while being a good, obedient slave.
Jack hand stroked my shoulder sympathetically, not averting his eyes even as he
asked for the fixture on my jaw to be removed.
 
“Well, I’m sorry, we cannot allow a slave who attacked one of the employees –
nearly took off one of his fingers, mind you – to be on the premises of this
institute without proper restraint means. It’s either that or we put him to
sleep until you get home.” Shirley’s voice was harsh as she spoke, answering
Jack fifth argument with almost the same answer she gave him before that, “I am
really sorry, I understand this is problematic for you, frankly I don’t like it
much either but I did not make the rules and cannot change them.” I winced
slightly when Jack turned his eyes to me, his expression was unclear to me –
was it frustration? Anger? I dreaded the thought of him reconsidering taking me
back but at the same time almost wished that he was. I lowered my head further
to escape his sight. Shirley raised an eyebrow at him and coughed into her hand
to get his attention back to her. “As I said… I understand your dislike of this
method but you must understand – this is all in your – and also, Eros best
interest.”
I could feel Jack’s eyes staring wonderingly as she spoke, checking my form for
a quiver of insecurity, a sign that I was in pain or simply uncomfortable, none
of these I gave him. I stood planted where I was, my gaze exploring the floor.
I didn’t move or react when Shirley tugged on the leash in her hand, signaling
me to come closer.
“Eros-“ I took a few steps forward, not raising my head. Jack’s voice required
acknowledgment so I did give him the slightest nod to show that I was
listening, Jack was not satisfied with that. “Is he drugged?” he said, quietly,
as if not wanting to believe he had to ask such a question at all, “This is not
his normal behavior; my Eros will not let anyone lead him around like an animal
on a leash.” I raised my head a little at his words, disbelief and a pint of
joy overcame me soon to be replaced by bitterness when I understood that would
not change anything. Shirley’s sharp response made that quite clear.
“Oh, yes. I meant to talk to you about that.” She said with a pleasant smile.
“Jack – I may call you Jack, right?” she did not await his reply before she
continued. “I am the executive director of this particular branch of the
market, and as such I don’t get have many opportunities to… connect on a
personal level with the slaves. But Eros… your Eros, my, he is a very special
case.” I raised my head a bit, opening my eyes to look at Shirley as her hand
moved across the leash, stroking the leathery length compassionately until she
arrived at my neck, pulling me closer to her and motioning with a tender push
on my shoulder that I should go down on my knees, which I did without
complaint. The look on Jack’s face was either horrified or intrigued, perhaps a
bit of both – I couldn’t tell. “Did they tell you how many owners Eros have
gone through before you?” she asked and raised an eyebrow when Jack gave her
the answer.
“Four. I know what you are getting at, but I have no intention to replace-“ I
swallowed, trying to dampen my suddenly dry throat. The words I wanted, and
also those I dreaded came out of Jack’s mouth with such ease they almost seemed
insignificant. For him it was the simplest thing in the entire world, he will
not replace me, I’m his, and they cannot change his mind no matter who horrible
they make me seem.
“Of course, I would never dream commending such a thing.“ Shirley cut him mid-
sentence. “I want you to understand that I will not tolerate him being thrown
away again, I cannot allow for him to get hurt again.” Her hand went to my hair
and fondled it caringly, for a few moments the both of them remained completely
silent, both looking at me and considering their next words. “Like I said, Eros
is a special case, a rare existence. He needs an experienced owner, someone who
can contain him and keep him safe from his own nature. I simply wish to make
sure you know how to do that, considering how quickly you had to come back here
with him being too sick to stand and plagued with panic attacks.” Her hand
moved again, this time to my shoulder where it settled, clutching slightly onto
my worn, sweat-drenched shirt. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,
Jack. I believe you can be an amazing owner, but I also think insisting on
taking Eros as your first slave was not a wise decision.”
The color was drained from Jack’s face, his smile was nowhere to be seen. He
looked like a child being scolded who could not find the words to reply, to say
anything at all in his defense. He opened his mouth and for a moment I thought
he might have found something – but he quickly closed it, apparently having
second thoughts on his argument.
Shirley smiled, removing her hand from my shoulder. “Eros, go to your master.”
She whispered and I got up immediately, only to stare at Jack for several
seconds before a push on my back forced me to take the first step forward. I
kneeled next to him and he stared at me as if expecting me to cry or complain
in some way despite the muzzle, when I didn’t he seemed almost disappointed.
“I will give youthe prescriptions assigned to Eros by the doctor and also… a
little something extra, from me.” Shirley went through her bag until she found
the small box with the pink pills, I found myself staring at it as it passed
hands from hers to Jack’s, remembering the feeling of everything becoming slow
and heavy and also working just right, eliminating the ailments that attacked
my body during the panic attacks. I found myself overcome by yearning for at
least one of those pills, just one – just enough to get rid of the anxiety and
the feelings that drowned me every time my eyes met with Jack’s.
“it’s for his attacks, I expect he will experience a few more of them on the
upcoming few weeks,” Shirley explained with her smile intact, “They’re somewhat
addictive, try not to use them unless he poses a danger to himself or to
others, or if you can’t do anything else to calm him down. I hope you won’t
have to use them at all.” She sighed and looked in my direction, seeming like
she was reconsidering when I craned my head to look at her hand where the box
rested still until Jack took it.
“Fine, yes.” Jack muffled as he put the little box and documents handed to him
into his own broad bag inattentively, “So besides making sure he takes medicine
on time, is there anything else one has to do to be a good… owner?” he actually
seemed appalled by the word, to which I took a little offense. Wasn’t he the
one who said that I was just a thing that he bought? What right had he to get
disgusted by the word? I tried to bite my lower lip under the muzzle, feeling
the edges of the leather strap positioned inside my mouth cutting its corners.
“Won’t you give me some advice, Ms. Renner?” Jack added softly when he noticed
the subtle grimace on my face.
“Call me Shirley, please.” Her smile grew wide, “I’m so glad you are taking
interest! Most people would have told me I had no right to tell them how to
take care of their property, quite rude of them, really.” She giggled, “Well,
it is quite simple, you just have to be consistent. Set down a set of rules and
follow them. Disciple and punish if he doesn’t follow the rules. There has to
be boundaries that he cannot cross. Treat him as what he is – not your equal,
your slave.”
I grimaced, not voluntarily of course, the words caused a sort of automated
response of disgust in me – I couldn’t help it. The movement caught the two
older people’s attention and they turned to look at me. Jack sent a hand to
stroke my head for comfort when Shirley shook her head disapprovingly. His hand
stopped mid-air and he looked back at her with a grim expression.
“That response to the things I just said should not be rewarded.” She answered
his questioning expression, “He must understand what he is, he must learn. It
will hurt him much more if you let him believe even on a subconscious level
that he is your equal only to be reminded that he is not when he crosses a
line.” At her words Jack flinched, maybe he remembered something that happened
just a few nights before. Shirley seemed satisfied. “Well then. The only thing
left now is to take care of all the financial stuff, the repossession fine etc.
then you can go home.”
Jack nodded and got up, he didn’t say anything and did not pick up the leash
attached to my collar as he walked toward the exit. I blinked, considering my
actions; should I get up and follow him? Wait until he calls me? Before today I
would have gotten up and ran after him without thinking twice – but now, trying
to fit into the role of what I was I couldn’t just do whatever I wanted. I
stayed in my place, raising my head to look at Shirley who chuckled at my
helplessness. She came to my side and picked up the leash, stroking my head
fondly as she lead me out of the room, finding Jack who was heading back in our
direction, agitated after finding out we have not followed him out.
“You forgot something” Shirley handed Jack the leash and he took it
tentatively.
“He will only follow me if I pull his leash now? Is that actually a thing?” he
asked with genuine curiosity, Shirley laughed and waved her hand dismissively.
“You are so funny! Of course not, he would have come if you simply told him to.
Eros is trying very hard to be good - but he can’t read minds. You need to tell
him what you want him to do, one way or the other.”
“Oh.” Jack immediately let go of the leash, to my relief. “Okay then. Eros… um…
follow me.” He said in an absurdly decisive voice as he turned and started
walking again, and I did as commanded.
 
Jack had me wait outside the room where he signed all the documents for my
release and paid the fines. Once again leaving me no instructions but a hurried
“wait outside”, I simply knelt by the door, attempting to ignore the people who
turned their head to look at me as they passed.
“Eros?” one familiar voice made me raise my head, it was Derek, standing in
front of me looking meek and troubled, his hair was ruffled and he seemed out
of breath, I looked at him quietly – not that I had much choice with the gag
over my mouth – and blinked a few times, acknowledging his presence before
returning my gaze to the floor, following the patterns of light dancing on it
like crystals. Derek crouched in front of me, trying to gain my attention
again. “I can’t believe Jack just left you out here alone.” He muttered,
“Didn’t even bother taking of this piece of crap on you face-“ suddenly his
hands were at the back of my head, attempting to release the strands of leather
connected to the muzzle. Immediately a muffled, throaty whine left my gagged
mouth and I pulled away from him, feverishly shaking my head in rejection.
Derek looked at me confused and held out his hand, touching my face gently as
he drew closer. “Don’t worry, I’m just taking it off, nothing more. I promise.”
He whispered and in turn I slapped his hand away, getting up and away from
Derek until my back hit the wall behind me. I shook my head, closing my eyes
when he came closer again.
I felt the warmth of his body close to me, his breath hitting the exposed skin
on my neck, causing me to shudder. He tried again to take off the muzzle,
ignoring my hands when I tried to push him away. “What the hell, I’m trying to
help you!” he said angrily when I once again slipped away from him.
“He doesn’t need help. Derek.” Jack voice came from behind me, and suddenly his
hand was on my shoulder, holding onto it tightly as he looked at Derek, who
returned a resentful glare. “We will take it off when we get home.” Jack’s hand
stroked my shoulder comfortingly and I turned my head down, closing my eyes to
avoid Derek’s glare, which was very much fixed at me.
“What… how can you do that to him?” Derek muttered, “Jack, its Eros! He hates
stuff like that! Eros, you hate that, right? Tell him. Tell him!” I flinched at
Derek’s voice as he yelled the last words, I shook my head wildly, taking a
step back to distance myself from the raged blonde.
“What he hates is you yelling at him for no reason.” Jack said calmly, pulling
me closer to him, “He did nothing to deserve that.”
“He also did nothing to deserve that shit on his-“
“Enough!” Jack snarled, cutting Derek sentence before he could finish. The tone
of his voice so angry I started shaking under his grip of me, despite him not
being mad at me at all. “I’ve had enough with your behavior, Derek. Eros is my
slave and I will treat him as I wish.” Jack’s hand moved from my shoulder to
find the leash and… probably to make his point more clear – he pulled on it as
he went towards the exit, making me go after him without a single word.
I managed to catch one glimpse of Derek as we started walking, finding him
looking shocked, almost devastated. I wanted to turn around and tell him
everything is fine, everything is like it’s supposed to be.
It took me seven years to understand that this is the right way, but finally I
do. Hopefully, Derek will soon understand it too.
Chapter End Notes
     The end?
     *Escapes Stoning*
     Um, right. so I had a thought. Tell me what you think -
     I have the story laid out for a few more chapters, but I have been
     thinking to wrap Eros POV now as part 1 of the story, and continue it
     from a different POV. interesting Idea, huh?
     tell me what you think, for now this is just an idea that I have not
     fully developed, so while I write a new chapter for my other story,
     you may give me your opinions and set the tone for the rest of the
     story! :)
***** Part two - chapter 18 *****
Chapter Summary
     Starting part two of the story, we are moving to a different point of
     view.
     hope you enjoy it :)
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Not much changed during the last three months.
A lot did change in the last three months.
Both of those statements are true, at least partially.
 
I have always lived on the South side of this too big of a city, and even now
that remained the same. I have always lived in luxury and with anything I
needed or wanted at my grasp, I was always surrounded by people, family, and
friends –
Most of that remained the same.
I still live in the South side, I still have friends – whom I wish were gone
from my life, and family – who wish I was gone from theirs. I still have
everything I need at my convenience… but what I want… that is a completely
different tale.
What, or more accurately - who I wanted was in the range of my grasp, I could
reach out and take him, I could simply say the words and he’d be mine, his body
if not his mind or heart. I could take what I wanted and it was so simple, and
no one would say anything. Even he himself would not protest, as he didn’t at
any of the times I have tried to do just that.
He hated it, he hated me, but he did not protest. He did not say a word as he
took off the new clothes he soiled by crawling around the large rooms for hours
a day, scrubbing and polishing every part of them until it shined. He did not
whine or cry out when I climbed on top and held his hands stretched a long way
above his head. He did nothing, moved no muscle when I move to kiss his lips,
my own body shaking as I tried to think that it was fine just like this – only
to find myself incapable of doing anything more just because I let myself have
a glimpse of his captivating eyes for even a moment. Each time ended with me
leaving the room, angry at him for not saying a word to stop me, even when
knowing that he could not.
 
“They didn’t brainwash him.” Said so factually, no wonder he managed to
convince himself. “He is just the same as he was before you even met him, he is
healthy and doing the job he should be doing. Why do you continue to insist on
this?” because it was false, because he was miserable and he couldn’t even say
so, because the one we took home was not at all like the one I took to see a
doctor at the Market three months ago. What he says is wrong and I know he
knows it as well. I can see how uncomfortable he is when they cross paths, when
he is required to give orders only to get him to move from where he’d been
standing sometimes for hours without movement.
Once, I found him just like that, standing but mostly leaning against the wall
of the living room, with fingernails digging into his palms until they bled,
trying to keep awake in waiting for permission to go to sleep. He wouldn’t
listen to me when I gave it, other carelessly worded orders given before
overpowered my words and made them useless so I had to use force. If the fear
in his eyes when he looked at me before had been harsh and painful to see, now
it was tormenting.
“You know he is not fine, and not healthy either. Did you even realize he
barely ever sleeps? That he has night terrors?” he nods, he knows about the
nightmares – of course he knows, it’s a side effect to the medication he was
given excessively for those three months to treat the anxiety and panic
attacks.
“Of course I know that. He is my slave, why wouldn’t I care about his health?”
the scowl on his face hints at the resentment starting to build up, soon it
began appearing in his voice as well. The discussion is close to ending, once
again with no results. “And I don’t see how any of this concerns you at all,
Derek.” He pronounces my name with a harsh emphasis, “You happen to live in my
household, I happen to own a slave, you may use him as you want – but leave his
welfare to me."
“Fine.” It’s not, but I have had enough. Jack cares – I know he cares about
him, I know he is doing what he thinks is the right thing to do, saying the
things he thinks are the proper ones to say. I have always known him to be
gullible, easy to influence. He was smart – enough so that he could run his own
super-sized corporation and make millions a week, but naivety has little to do
with smarts or decision making capabilities.
I get up, slamming my fists into the glass table before making my way out of
the room. I heard Jack calling after me; that special bit of anger reserved
especially for me in his voice.
It’s not that I don’t like Jack, and I don’t think he dislikes me either. We
have a long, weird relationship – him having been my sister’s boyfriend for
almost seven years, catching the spot of the talented, handsome, utterly and
completely perfect son at my family’s table before I had the chance to ever go
for it myself. Anybody else would have resented him, I just took advantage of
the freedom to do as I wanted because it was always known that no matter how
hard I worked – I will never amount to anything close to what Jack had achieved
in his life. I had no mind for business – just as he didn’t have the mind for
rational thinking.
I stopped in my steps when he called out to me a second time; I turned around
to see him come after me. The ire in his eyes did not subside when he finally
caught up, his hand grabbing my shoulder to make me turn and face him.
“I am not done.” Jack said and his hand clenched down on my shoulder when I
attempted to back away. Jack was stronger than he looked attired in the
expensive suits that hidden his well-developed body, and he had no intention to
let go of me. “You need to stop.”
I pulled away from him immediately when he said the words. The tone of his
voice and the look in his eyes confirms something I was petrified of for the
last three months, the notion that he knew – worse, that he knew and did
nothing to stop me. Did he really notice? Have I left visible marks despite
barely bringing myself to touch?
“What?” I barked and took a further step back to broaden the distance between
us. Jack eyes laid on mine unforgivingly, and he let go of my shoulder.
“I have seen how you look at him, how he looks at you back – it’s not healthy
for either of you.” He crossed his arms across his chest, “I know you, Derek.
Better than you’d like to admit. I know how you tend to crash on whoever you
take a fancy to. Has it ever turned out well?” his fingers tapped on his arm
just above his elbow. “You are a talented young man, you’re intelligent. I
can’t imagine what reason there is for you to find yourself in dead-end
relationships all the time instead of just finding a nice girl to settle down
with-“
I had to keep my lower jaw from dropping at his words, clenching my teeth
instead. He couldn’t be serious – all of this was about me? Passing judgment on
my choices of dates? Jack had no idea what the situation was, how fucked up the
wreck of a relationship between us actually was. I wasn’t sure if to breathe
out in relief or charge at him and introduce my fist to his ignorant face.
“So this is what this is about?” I hissed, “You had a chat with my dad, have
you? Did he promise to take me off your hands if you manage to convince me to
give up being a fag?” how cheap was this line? I made sure to insert as much
resentment into my voice as I could, performing myself as offended just to get
to watch as Jack face turned shameful, waiting for the small shake of denial
his head made soon after the words left my mouth. I didn’t let him respond.
“Iam really sorry, I can’t help who I ‘take a fancy to’. The best I can do is
let the subject of said fancy to make his own choices…” bitterness raised in my
throat as I spat the lie out – knowing I never gave that choice to him, never
asked him what he wanted. Knowing he was right to hate me.
Jack stayed quiet for a little while, looking at me, arms still crossed, eyes
still aggrieved. He clicked his tongue once before starting to talk again. “You
know that is not what I meant. I couldn’t care less if you go out with a girl
or… um, not, but if it’s destructive you can bet I will not be supporting it.
And neither would your sister. Do you value her opinion, at the very least?”
I clenched my hands, looking at him furiously. Sometimes I forgot that he
really did know me well, having been a regular guest in my father’s estate
since even before he and Isabelle hooked up. He knew that my sister and I were
close, he knew how much we valued each-other’s opinions, that we were each-
other’s keepers and go-to person. I kept quiet, waiting for the rest of his
words to pour out, as they eventually did.
“She is worried about you, she’s been worried since the day you left your
father’s house. And you keep on worrying her, sleeping around, hanging around
with the awful kind of people you’ve been acquiring as friends as of late… and
you became so violent, that stunt you pulled at the Market…” he shook his head
again in the same disapproving manner, “Do you have any idea how hard this
impacts each of us? You, courting a slave, behaving horribly on his behalf?”
“Frankly,” looking into his eyes, tilting my head just a bit. “I couldn’t care
any less about it.” We exchanged stares one more time before I turned away and
left.
 
No doubt, this conversation was not over. The next one will be initiated by
Isabelle, and after that – my mother. My father, as per usual, would not bother
picking up the phone.
Going to my room and finding it had been tidied up while I was absent, the
sheets on my bed replaced, the floor swept and scrubbed until I could literally
see my reflection in it, books and magazines organized in two organized piles
on my nightstand, right beside my cell-phone, neatly placed on its charger-pad.
I hit the mattress face first, burying it within the warmth of the newly dried
sheets and pulling their strained surface until it gave and wrinkled beneath my
fingers. It smelled of Lavender and of him… maybe it was just my imagination;
perhaps it was a fragrance originating from another source, and not from his
skin. Maybe it was merely my weird obsession with him.
I couldn’t understand it. Three months later, three months after he made it
clear that he would never want anything to do with me, after he told me plainly
that nothing that went on between us was anything more than an assault, that he
wanted nothing of it at all, nothing of me… how could it be that after all
that, he would still come when I called in the middle of the night, he would
still shed his clothes when he saw me coming into his room – no words needed,
just a look which he returned with blankness as his mind sailed away to some
sort of a safe space. I couldn’t understand the sudden complete change in his
character.
Jack was right, I didn’t know him for a long time, how long was I living here
before he got sick? Before we took him to the market to seemingly have his mind
wiped completely of any rebelliousness, any will to do anything but obey
orders, to have fear and horror inserted deep into his consciousness.
Fuck, it’s been barely a week.
And oh, how much damage have I dealt during that single week of knowing him. In
my almost desperate efforts to gain the pretty slave’s attention I joined in
numerous attempts to rapehim, let the people I called friends treat him as
nothing but a toy for their amusement, not wanting to see how wrong it was, not
wanting to hear his cries and shouts and pleas, despite never hearing them from
any other slave we attacked as a group in the streets, finding those who’ve
gotten away from one evil, straight into a worse one. Those who wanted only a
bit of food or something to wear because nights in the northern part of the
city were too cold to spend them with no cover –as most did anyway.
In a foul act we found them, offered them a meal for a service… most were
willing, and those who were not…
They were fair game anyway.
Just like Eros still is.
Fuck.
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry, you had to wait so long for such a short chapter :(
***** Chapter 19 *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the long wait! too much work, too little free time :(
     I did a very quick proofread on this chapter, so don't feel bad about
     pointing me to any mistakes you find.
     thank you for you amazing loyalty to me! I love you! <3
Music filled the room.
Loud, high pitched, the tune bouncy and most importantly – completely
meaningless. The words were unintelligible, they had minor influence on the
song and its pace. It was the kind of song you’d put in a bad remix for a low
level club, a song to dance to when you’re drunk and completely out of your
right mind – or wished to be so.
I danced, closing my eyes and just turning and moving around, stepping on
magazines and sheets sprawled on the floor after being torn away from the
mattressand the desk and thrown all around the room in a single fit of anger
and unyielding self-disgust. I wanted to drown my thoughts, needed alcohol… but
the risk of meeting Jack or my sister on my way to the secret liquor closet in
the kitchen was too great to take and I gave up on the idea, turning up the
music until I couldn’t hear myself think instead.
I pretended not to hear the loud knocking on my door, moving away from it with
my eyes still closed, only letting the beats of the song assault my ears and
mind and nothing else.
It was fine like that. Everything was actually better. I didn’t have to think,
didn’t hear Jack’s words over and over in my head and even better – his words
stayed out as well. I was free to be my worst, selfish and mean and a fucking
horrible person even by the standards of the society of fucking slavers I lived
within. A person who cared not for the pleads and cries of a slave, who stood
by and done nothing and just watched… not doing a single thing to make them
stop.
The music died gradually, and as it did the knocks on my door grew louder. I
ignored them and kept on moving, dancing to the remnants of music lingering in
the air.
“You know…” I called loudly when the door opened despite my indifference,
knowing without looking at all who will be standing at the entry not yet
entering, only looking at the floor as if ashamed of his own existence. “I used
to do this kind of thing a lot,dancing, drinking way too much…” Oh, how I could
use some shitty alcohol right now. “Going out with my friends to find a thrown
away slave to take our frustration out on…” I could hear the sudden hitch in
his breath, see in my mind the slight flinch of his limbs. “I mean, that’s all
it was about…”
He took a deep breath, and again it hitched when his eyes rose to look at me.
“You should turn down the music, Jack said-“ I opened my eyes to look at him
and he moved his eyes quickly, turning them back to the floor.
“Jack can go suck himself.” I barked sharply, stopping my ungraceful movements
just to walk to my stereo, starting up the same song again. Immediately
returning to my frenzied dance only this time while looking at him, trying to
catch his bashful eyes. “You can tell him that, in those exact words!” I
exclaimed elatedly, observing the way his body moved inconveniently, his gaze
moving all around the room, seeing the mess I made in my recent frustration.
He appeared to be on the verge of crying, but then again – he almost always
looked like that.The wetness welling in his eyes did make my heart flutter a
little, and how much it frustrated me. I wanted him to break down, I wanted him
to completely shatter so I could take the pieces and rebuild him back into his
real shape. I wanted him to show me how much he hated me again, talk to me in
the same unforgiving tone he once used when we talked.
I moved my eyes across his body, catching on to his hands as they fiddled with
the hem of his t-shirt aggressively, stressing the fabric way beyond its
natural capability. He blinked a few times, biting his lip and closed his eyes
again.
“What? What do you want to say?” I stopped my dancing and moved toward him,
seeing as for a moment a shiver went through his body, and as I came closer one
shiver became a tremble , I could see that he held himself from taking a step
back, from running away. He was struggling to keep a straight posture instead
of crumbling into a heap of fear on my floor.
“I- I Just… if… can I…” he bit his lip again, bowing his head when I stood no
mere two meters away from him. “Can I ask… sir, have I done anything wrong? The
sheets… they were not clean enough? Did I misplace your things?” my heart
flapped as he raised his miserable gaze to me, “I am sorry…” his voice reduced
to a barely audible murmur over the loud music, “I… I will re-do it, I will do
it better this time, please…”
To my hand raising to touch him he responded by flinging away, his mouth
repeating his pleads for forgiveness as I let my hand drop back, with the music
still booming in the background I glared at him for a moment before reaching
out for him again, this time grabbing on his shirt and pulling him inside, much
to his and my own surprise as well, and shut the door behind us.
My other hand took him as I closed my eyes again, letting myself drown in the
music as I swayed and took him with me, his voice barely audible beneath the
loud, poor excuse for music. At first he tried to free himself, tried to keep
still as my hands urged him to move, let go of everything and just dance…
He stood frozen, his expression a swirl of unreadable emotions – fear,
confusion, the unbearable urge to hit me with every bit of power he could get
and finally, very subtle but still there - the wanting in his eyes, the small
bit of desire to do as he wanted, to let everything go.
I leaned in, my mouth close to his ear as I tried to whisper loud enough to be
heard above the loud tune “close your eyes… try to move. Nothing is holding you
still, nothing is pulling you back. Just listen.” I let go of his hands and
moved away, giving him space. I watched as he looked at me, at first reluctant
to do as I guided.
He did not close his eyes, but his hands soon became unfurled, his fingers
stretching and the look in his eyes becoming unfocused, I watched him listening
to the bad music, flinching a bit as it’s tones became higher, shrieking loudly
in his ears. Unknown to him, his body moved – hesitant at first and yet very
up-beat. His lips curled up in a cautious smile as he closed his eyes and moved
– not as wildly as I had before, but less repressed than before.
Even before the brainwash, I knew he barely liked to do anything. I mostly
found him either sleeping or working, at certain times he would stare blankly
at the television in his room, uninterested. And it just got worse with time.
After we returned from the market the entertainment appliances in his room
became dormant. Not a book moved from its place on a shelf, the television was
disconnected… magazines found themselves in the trash. Eros would not watch a
movie with me, or even glance toward anything that was not work, when he wasn’t
working he was eating alone in the kitchen, or sitting in his room, blankly
staring at the wall.
But now it was over, now he finally let himself enjoy something he had never
really experienced before. Where could he dance in the market – inside small,
sealed of glass containers? Where could he let go of the limitations and fears?
I looked at him, taking in the gentle sway of his hips, the curl of his body
when he turned, his hair following the movement as he jumped, the sweat and
subtle flush appearing in his cheeks. As the song was ending he opened his eyes
and our gazes locked into each other, I smirked appreciatively and slightly
nodded as he came to a halt, standing straight and for the first time in months
– looking alive.
“You are a natural.” I whispered teasingly, causing his cheeks to redden
further, only not in embarrassment as I expected but in what seemed as
frustration. He furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lower lip, trying to think
what to say. I shook my head. “I mean it, you dance a lot better than anyone I
know. And this track is shitty. Imagine what can be done with some good music.”
He kept silent for a moment, then raised his eyes to look in mine again. “Thank
you. I enjoyed it…”
It was my turn to stand stunned. No quiver, no rapid blinking or hunched
position. I did not know the Eros who stood before me, I did not remember this
kind of self confidence in him, not ever. It was my turn to bite my lip and
blush. “I should… take you out some time, to a real party. We can sneak out
when Jack and Izzy are away and… you know, get drunk and dance for a whole
night… have some fun.”
Eros kept looking at me, and he kept quiet. His posture slumped a bit before he
came crashing to his knees, shooting me a pained look. His entire body began
shaking, and when I came to look at him up close and find out what was
happening he tried to crawl away, whimpering. “I… I can’t, please… don’t make
me, I can’t do that, please don’t make me…”
I paused. How could I be this stupid? How could I suggest to him something like
that? However stable he seemed seconds ago, the boy was still programmed into
full submission to his master, still suffering pain each time he dared defy the
rules – even those he made up for himself. Sneaking out without Jack knowing?
He had done it once before, and he paid for that dearly. Why in a thousand
hells would he do that again?
My own hands started to shake along with his shoulders as I tried to settle
him, whispering to him that I had only been joking, he didn’t have to sneak out
and he didn’t have to drink or dance or do anything he didn’t want to. I said I
was sorry three or four time as I tried to help him regulate his breath, as I
tried to help him out of the panic attack without giving him the pill he asked
for again and again.
The sheen of sweat from dancing became an outright sticky wetness, his eyes
bulged and I thought that the small of bile was beginning to leave his mouth.
Guilt for a deed not yet done caused tears to fall down his cheeks in streams.
I did not have a choice.
I led him to my bed, helping him onto its sheet-less mattress, he curled up and
I ran in search for Jack, only he knew where the pills were, and with a tremble
I realized I would have to tell him what happened before I could talk him into
giving me the pill. I drove his slave into a panic attack after he finally had
progressed to leave them behind, and right after passing judgment on Jack’s own
methods to handling the boy. I felt sick, and paused in my place.
I drove him to a panic attack, and then left him there alone.
After a few second of standing still I decided on my move and started walking
sluggishly back to my room. I found Eros still laying on my bed, his body still
shivering and his hands covering his head. He was quiet and still.
Hesitant, I moved around the room picking stuff up, organizing the mess I have
made earlier. I was a fool, so angry about how Jack treated Eros I had no time
to consider the boy himself, how much pain he was in. even the thought of doing
something he perceived as wrong was causing him to fall back out of control.
“I- I should do that…” Eros voice made me look toward him, finding him peeking
through the spaces between his hands. “It’s my job…” I raised my head and gave
him a small smile, attempting to be calming. Our eyes met for a second before
he closed them and turned to look the other way.
“Eros… I… You know, I just have a certain order for my things…” I heard him
whimper and bit my lip, terrified of pushing back into panic again. “I just
mean… it’s my mess, you don’t have to clean it. I can talk to Jack, tell him
that I’ll take care of my own room…”
“I can learn.” His voice was muffled, as if he talked right into the mattress.
“I can learn your order, I can do my job…” he seemed almost desperate, on the
verge of going back into the same state of depreciation and lack of control. I
remained silent and moved to my desk, tapping my fingers on the rich wood until
they reached the music player. I unhooked itfrom the big stereo and went to the
bed.
“I will talk to Izzy.” I said softly, “tell her I want privacy, that I don’t
want you digging through my things when I’m not here… not that I really care –
don’t look at me like that!” his doe eyes rolled away from me, his hands no
longer covered his cowered head and he turned to lay on his side rather than
his stomach. “It will take some of your workload off…” I put the music player
next to his head and he raised, looking at me quietly. “You can use that free
time to dance…”
I tried to make my voice compelling and calm, watching as he picked the device
with a shaking hand and looked at it like he could not believe he was really
holding it. I moved my head and tried to catch his eyes “I can get you a good
pair of speakers too, and show you how to buy new music… You said you liked it,
right?”
Eros eyes on me were frozen as he moved slowly, getting up from the bed and
after pushing the player back into my hand going straight to the door. Just
before he went out of it he looked back at me, still frozen. Despite his tear
tainted cheeks his eyes were dry of them and small smile that I couldn’t decide
whether it was sad or serene was on his lips. “Thank you… Derek.” He whispered
and left.
Don’t talk to them, don’t make me idle. That’s what he was saying. I need to
work. I need it. Don’t take it away from me.
The moment the door closed I took a big gulp of air and went to my bed,
crushing on the sheet-less mattress head first. I took a deep breath, taking in
the smell, his smell. Sweat, some kind of cleaning agent, shampoo… and his
smell, the unique aroma of him.
I wanted to see him again, see him as he was right after the dance, happiness
radiating from him. Didn’t he want to feel this way again? Didn’t he want to at
least feel free?
Understanding the boy thought process became harder every time I spoke to him,
and my own thoughts became shuffled as well. What did I want? Every time I saw
the boy my heart began to beat faster, I wanted him. I wanted him so much I was
willing to break him and take him by force if I had too, so fragile, so easy to
break – but when he actually began to shatter the opposite happened. I was the
one to break over and over, falling victim to doe eyes and tear tainted face.
I decided.
I will convince Isabelle to take some of his workload off, I will buy him
speakers and a music player and put them in his room. Even if he won’t use
them… at least I would feel that I did something to make it easier on him, at
least until I could figure out a way to free him from the panic attacks…
 
“Are you doing drugs?”
My eyes widened, looking at Isabelle in disbelief as the words left her mouth.
“What?!”
She appraised my silently, calmly, and then she asked again. “Derek, are you
doing drugs?”
“No! fu—Why would you think that?” I breathed out, “I just need privacy, I
can’t have Eros go through my things every day, my mess has a certain order to
it-“
Isabelle sighed and waved her hand at me as she walked toward the drink
cabinet, shaking her head subtly as she poured herself a glass of white wine.
“The last time you asked for privacy in your room you used it to get high,
drink until unconsciousness and… just to make father really angry, do nasty
things with another boy in it.” She looked up from her glass as she swirled the
liquid inside it. “Derek, what is it really about?” I turned my eyes away,
feeling my face heating up. “If you won’t tell me, I won’t stop Eros visits to
your room. I’ll tell him to do a more thorough work next time too.”
Thoughts rushed to my head, how could I forget to think of an excuse?
“My my… Derek, your blood went right to your ears, they’re red like tomato.”
She smiled and came closer to me, “So… are you hiding a boy in your room
again?” her voice had an uncharacteristic playful tone to it, “If that’s the
case I won’t mind… reducing Eros visits to your room. Wouldn’t want him
witnessing anything… inappropriate.” She giggled over her glass of wine before
taking a sip of it.
“Ah… I- Yeah.” Cautiously, I nodded at the excuse she provided me, “We wouldn’t
want that…” I turned even redder as I recalled the night of that horrible
party, going to Eros’ room to find him laying naked on a stained bed, seeing
what was left of him after the abuse of several men. I remembered thinking that
perhaps he was dead for just a moment before glimpsing a flinch of his body
moving. I evoked the look of pitiful fright in his eyes when he saw me come in,
and the acceptance for the perception that his nightmare had not ceased for
that night when I told him to come to my room.
“Derek,” Isabelle voice pulled me away from my thoughts. “I’m not like father.
And Jack is not like him either... you know you don’t need to hide things like
that from us.” Her voice was soft as she moved closer to me, she smoothed her
hair back so she could look at me properly, without her blond curls getting in
front of her eyes.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Will she be satisfied with that? If I knew my sister at
all, then no. “I’ll make sure to mention it to you the next time I pick up some
guy at a shady dance club to do nasty, naaasty things with in my room.” I
smirked evilly and we both chuckled for a moment of fraternalcamaraderie.
As selfish and smug my sister seemed to be in other people’s eyes, I knew her
to care for the few people in her life that mattered to her, if it was really
care she was showing rather than her controlling personality did not matter,
because whatever she did was always for the best of everyone concerned. She
would never do anything she perceived as harmful to those she cared about.
Which was why it was easier to convince her that clearing the couple of hours
it took Eros to organize and clean my room from his daily schedule was
something she should do for the sake of my privacy and satisfaction, rather
than his mental and physical well-being.
Had she not cared for Jack and respected his wishes, Eros would never have made
it back from the Market that day. In the end the last word was the one she
spoke, and with just that one word she could bring a hurtful end to what little
kinship I managed to build with Eros.
I exchanged a few more words with her before leaving the room with no real
intent in mind,
She tried to extract the information of who my mysterious, new, completely
imaginary boyfriend might be, and I asked her about our parents, listening to
her bland reply and smiling sadly when she said that they were missing having
me around. She knew as well as I did that was not true.
 
After a second glass of wine for her and a few shots of something I did not pay
enough attention to recognize the taste of for me, each of us bade an
intentional ridiculously formal farewell to each other and went each his merry
way. She to one of her social obligations, and me – back to my room, my bed,
where his smell still lingered.
***** Chapter 20 *****
Chapter Notes
     ...I'M SO SORRY!!
     I hope some of you have stayed and will be reading this, if you are -
     know that I appreciate and adore each and every one of you, you're
     amazing and I don't deserve your attention!
     I didn't really feel like writing at all in the past few months, and
     I've had a few disputes with myself over the story and what direction
     I'm going to take it to. I do know that I want to finish it, and I
     think that is going to happen soon. I hope so.
     So here's a short new chapter after... forever, basically.
The road to my favorite bar was less than friendly. It was a long, serpentine
route going deep into the northern, less than welcoming part of the city,
circling through slums, passing make-shift brothels and body-shops, selling
second-handed slaves found on the street. Once, perhaps, I could ignore the
presence of such places, once I would probably have gone inside, out of
curiosity, wanting to stay on good terms with the friends who relished this
kind of cheap entertainment.
Now, looking at the red doors and dark windows as I walked past them, I only
felt dismay. Eros could have wound up in one of those, if he didn’t encounter
my friends – a term I no longer felt appropriate, as I have not even attempted
to contact them after Jack and Isabelle all but banned them from ever coming
close to the building ever again. They tried to contact me a few times, sending
invitations to parties and messages telling me how boring I had become, or
sometimes just imploring me to come hang out and bring “the slave with the
pretty ass” with me. They never forgot that I didn’t let any of them actually
touch him that time, they never got to satisfy their sickening fantasies using
Eros, because I didn’t let them.
At times, I became concerned about it, wondering if they’ll turn up and demand
him for themselves. If they did… would I even try to decline? Maybe. Not for
what could be described as ‘the right reasons’. Not because I cared so much for
him like I think I must have pretended – no.
Because I wanted him. Wanted him just for myself. No one else could satisfy the
need to grab on the silk like hair while looking into his indescribable eyes,
planting kisses on his cheeks, on his jawline, on his pink lips, broken by his
own teeth.
I obsessed, I yearned to see him dancing again, strove to catch him off his
guard just one more time, cause him to understand that what I wanted was not
just his body, it wasn’t – I needed his heart, his mind. I needed his
submission and adoration and all of him, just for myself.
I stood still in front of the entrance to the bar, watching people go in and go
out, couples giggling or making out with each other, holding hands – holding
other things. I like this place because everyone who comes here is always
initially alone, but most of those who leave – leave together.
If I couldn’t have him, I could at least satisfy the burning coursing through
me for a little while, with either touch – or an obscene amount of alcohol.
 
“I wish he was less… shy is not the word. No, no, I wish… wish…” I hiccupped
and blinked my eyes a few times, they burnt and leaked tears and yet felt too
dry, behind them my head was exploding with an ache only a very long, sleepless
night full of drinking and dancing could cause. “Wish he’d show just’a bit of
appreciation… for himself, you know?” I stirred a cocktail that sat in front of
me, someone ordered it for me, and I didn’t even notice who. It was common, in
this kind of place you lock on to the cutest blond fuck-boy you could find and
got him so drunk that he couldn’t stand, then you offer to take him home… the
rest was better not described. I was a fine target as anyone else sitting at
the bar, not the youngest, not the cutest, but very fine.
And I played along, I actually got so drunk that I felt like I would belch all
over my shoes if I got up and stood in them. If someone of good physical
prospects came along and offered to fuck me in the fancy looking yet very dirty
bathroom for the price of a ride home I’d probably take him on his offer… and
then get a cub. Fucking strangers in dirty bathrooms was one thing, taking a
ride with them when I could barely move myself and resist if they decided to
take me anywhere that wasn’t home? That was for the inexperienced.
The drink in front of me seemed less tempting the longer I looked at it, if
fact, whoever ordered it for me was probably a scrooge, thinking he could buy
me with drinks that cost less than the fucking glass they were in, as if I was
some cheap whore. I smirked to myself and laid my head on my hand.
“Appreciation for himself… and for me.” I murmured, more to myself than to any
who bothered to listen to my drunken yammering. “I mean- ugh…” my stomach
screamed at me, and the bartender shot me a worried look, not worried about me-
but about the cleanness of his bar if my well trained gag reflex decided to
betray me.“I mean, I’m trying… trying to help, and he ignores it, he avoids me…
I made some mistakes and I know that, but he just wouldn’t let it go-“
“That’s very rude of him.” Someone commented behind my back, a familiar voice,
maybe too familiar for comfort. I didn’t turn around to look as Jack came to
sit on a stool next to me, just kept staring at the patterns of light dancing
on my glass. Maybe if I ignored his presence long enough he will leave me be.
“You are interrupting… I’m talking to someone.” I slurred, averting my eyes
from him as I laid both my elbows on the smooth wooden surface before me, and
my head on top of my arms. I saw him looking around inquiringly through the
corner of my eyes and groaned when he turned back to look at me.
“Is that so? Who?” the curiosity in his voice mingled with a touch of mocking
superiority, it made me angry enough to want to at least slap him, if only I’d
had the strength. “That seat next to you seems vacant. Maybe they left while
you were blabbering.” There was a vicious undertone to his voice, not
characteristic to his overall persona at all. Was he mad at me? I couldn’t
think why he would be, more – I couldn’t think why he would even be there,
perhaps I was imagining things, but if I was then why would he be the one to
come to my mind? I lifted my hand to signal the bartender for another drinkbut
Jack got hold of my wrist and pulled it down before they noticed, giving me a
very elaborate look. “That’s quite enough for tonight.” He said and did not let
go when I tried to pull my arm away, he was surprisingly strong – or I was
expectedly feeble due the amount of toxins in my veins.
“That’s not your decision.” I hissed and made another attempt, again failing to
make him let me go. “I’m a grown man, I’ll stop drinking when I want-“Jack’s
eyes were frozen, virtually scary. His look made me halt my attempts to release
my seized wrist and just stare at him, trying to understand his reasoning for
this through a drunkard haze.
Jack said nothing – he got up from his stool, still holding my wrist, pulling
at it after him. I almost fell of my own chair and my stomach swirled as I
barely made myself stand and promptly be dragged after him. Even if I wanted to
protest, the chance that anything but bile would leave my mouth now was near
zero, speaking would be impossible even if I had my wit about me to think of
something more to say.
“I turned a blind-eye before.” Jack finally said as he pushed me into the
bathroom, finally letting go of my arm when my body met with one stool’s door,
barely holding itself from falling back into it. “Drinking, sleeping with
strangers, and making Isabelle worry about you. The people you chose to keep
around you, I even pretended I didn’t know what you were doing to Eros. Get
inside and empty all that crap you put into your body tonight, throw it all
up.” His voice had an edge to it that I couldn’t remember ever hearing from
him, it was terrifying and also quite satisfying, to be the one who brought
this man’s real self to the surface. I lifted my aching arm and removed a few
strands of blond hair from my face and stared at him silently.
He stared right back at me, his hands crossed over his chest, his eyes looking
me over in complete distaste, a kind of look I was used to receive from
everyone I called my family on a daily basis for years now, ever since he came
along. But he had no right for it, he had no word over what I chose to do in my
life-
My stomach rolled violently, the taste of bile became insufferable on my tongue
and I turned from him and went into the stall with no more quarrels.
 
Being dragged out of the bar by a tall and handsome man was a part of my very
elaborate plan for the night, somehow – that part became messed up and instead
of a ravishing stranger, I got Jack. And instead of fucking me in a back ally
until I could no longer stand – he was shoving me into the back seat of his
car. I could faintly hear him telling me to tell him if I felt like throwing up
some more before he entered the car on the driver’s seat and started up the
car.
I was getting myself ready for a long rebuking chat all through the ride, but
Jack remained silent even as we passed the line where the north met the south,
the buildings became better built and the road less grainy, the people hanging
about after dark were not much varied from those we already saw, drunks on the
way home after a long night were slowly joined by early birds heading off to
their workplaces. Jack took a different route than I did, his sights ever
focused on the road, not once faltering to meet my own, not a word leaving his
mouth. The silence was taunting and eventually, I could not stand it anymore.
“You should have taken that road.” I scrutinized, “We could have been home ages
ago if you didn’t take the long path-“ He ignored me, not a look in the rear-
view, not even a sound. He just kept driving, skipping another path that could
take us straight home. “Jack, home is the other way, what the hell…” this was
beginning to be disturbing –
“We are not going home.” Finally he spoke, his voice calm and sure. “We are
going to talk about some things, man to man. Lay down some ground rules.”
“That’s bullshit.” I answered, but he ignored me again. It was beginning to be
quite infuriating. “Of all the people to give me ‘The Talk’ you are the least
worthy.” I carried on, “Just because you’re fucking my sister…“ The car came to
an abrupt stop which made whatever little was left in my stomach to climb all
the way back up to the back of my throat, I swallowed it together with the
words I meant to say and stared straight ahead as Jack unbuckled himself and
got out of the car.
 
Jack was not a violent person. He always- always tried to resolve feuds in
peaceful ways. It was irritating at times, and it also gave what I was now
realizing was a completely wrong impression of him not being capable of
violence. The realization that assumption was possibly very, very wrong made a
small shiver sprint up my spine. Time seemed to have frozen, Jack did not come
back to the car, and I didn’t dare to look out of the window. Alcohol induced
paranoia clung to the edges of my mind along with a burning ache in my lower
stomach. Was he gone to get a weapon of some sort? Was he going to just leave
me there? The car was still running… I could get into the front seat and… and
just drive away… hit a tree along the road because there was no way I could
actually drive in this state-
As I contemplated that option, giving it legitimacy and trying it against
other, less and more divisive ideas Jack got back into the car and turned the
key. He didn’t turn to see my startled face as he began driving once more and
didn’t say a word more on the subject, what he did do was hand me a big bottle
of icy water, telling me to drink all of it.
The next time the car stopped, I was dosed off and looking out of the window at
the darkness.. I had no perception of time or location. I knew we were still
within the limits of the city, so it hadn’t been that long. My head hurt.
Jack pulled the car into a parking lot and turned it off. I heard him sigh
deeply before he got out and disappeared for a few minutes, once again leaving
me alone in the dark to contemplate what I should do if or when he decided to
actually murder me.
“So… does Izzy know you kidnapped her little brother or…” I mumbled when he
came back for me, opening my door and pulling me out. I stumbled, not hurrying
to let him stabilize me on my feeble feet as he tried to do, not hurrying to
make any of this any easier on him.
He didn’t seem to care, he just dragged me after him, and I followed him, if
somewhat reluctantly.
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