Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9423926.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      One_Direction_(Band)
  Relationship:
      Harry_Styles/Louis_Tomlinson
  Character:
      Harry_Styles, Louis_Tomlinson, Sophia_Smith, Anne_Twist
  Additional Tags:
      BDSM, AU, slave!harry, master!louis, slave!sophia, Kidnapping, Slavery,
      Sexual_Slavery, sub!Harry, dom!Louis, Dark, Dark_fic, Angst, Sad_Harry,
      Scared_Harry, please_read_the_tags, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Rimming,
      Blowjobs, handjobs, Cockwarming, Collars, Leashes, Public_Nudity,
      Humiliation, Verbal_Humiliation, Public_Humiliation, Rape, Abuse, Older
      Louis, Younger_Harry, 16_year_old_harry, Master/Slave, Punishment,
      Discipline, Spanking, Paddling, Dick_slapping, Orgasm_Delay/Denial,
      Teasing, louis_is_evil, dark_themes, Disturbing_Themes, You_Have_Been
      Warned, Face_Slapping, Facials, Sexual_Abuse, Whipping, Riding_Crop, Come
      Eating, Come_Swallowing
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-22 Updated: 2017-03-10 Chapters: 5/? Words: 14481
****** Freedom is Slavery ******
by ItIsWhatItIs9194
Summary
     Where slavery is legal, and Louis buys sex slave, Harry.
Notes
     Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this fic!
     Please read the tags and warnings! This will be a very dark and sad
     fic! I don't want to trigger anybody.
     Title is from the book 1984 by George Orwell.
     Happy reading!
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
The training had been the hardest part.
From the moment Harry arrived at the slave compound, he no longer withheld
basic human rights. He'd lost his name, it being replaced with a number or any
degrading nickname the guards and trainers thought of. He'd lost the privilege
of speaking, only allowed to do so when instructed. He'd lost the privilege of
making eye contact, only allowed to do so when instructed.
Those weren't the only things taken away from him, though. He'd had his freedom
ripped away from him and flushed down the drain, most likely never to be seen
again unless he somehow managed to escape the compound, or a future master let
him go. He highly doubted any of that would actually happen, however.
It was impossible to escape; hundreds of guards were stationed outside the
steel gates of the compound, guns in hand. He also had a tracker wrapped
securely around his ankle, sure to beep and shock him if he ever managed to
step foot through any door he wasn't permitted.
If he ever did escape, he couldn't exactly go straight to the police station,
either. For one thing, it'd be extremely difficult to run there naked, and for
another thing, slavery was completely legal. The authorities wouldn't help him
— they'd simply check his tracker number and send him right back to the
compound. It was no use trying to escape, and the guards and trainers had
ingrained that in his mind from the very beginning. He never risked trying.
During training, he didn't think he'd ever experienced anything so painful and
inhumane. He was forced to perform sexual favors, like blowjobs, handjobs,
rimming — anything his future master might want. The trainers always degraded
him and manhandled him during the sessions, humiliating him and making him feel
like an animal — like he wasn't even human. He always pleaded for the cruel men
to stop, but it never worked; his cries for help and mercy only amused them and
motivated them to hurt him further.
After he completed his month of training, he spent his days locked in his cold,
damp cell, crying pitifully to himself. His cellmate and fellow slave, Sophia,
would always hug him and cry with him, trying to comfort him to the best of her
ability. But the sad truth was that she was terrified as well — terrified of
staying in the slave compound, but also terrified of possibly being bought by a
master.
“Get up, menace,” a guard shouted at Harry, glaring at the young boy from where
he stood by the cell door. “Someone is here to look at you.”
Sophia pulled away from Harry out of fright and scurried to her straw bed in
the corner, not wanting the intimidating and mean guard to hurt her. She knew
he wasn't addressing her, because she was only ever called whore, slut, or
bitch, while Harry was called menace or cockslut.
It was sickening treatment.
Harry slowly stood to his feet and looked down obediently, hands crossed behind
his back. The guard roughly grabbed his arm and turned him around, instructing
Harry to bend over. Harry obeyed reluctantly, wanting to cry even more once his
privates were on display. The guard smacked his bum harshly, causing Harry to
squeal. The man chuckled, holding Harry in place while the potential master
came to have a look at the item.
“Is he clean?” the mystery man asked, leaning in front of the slave to get a
good look at his face. Harry didn't dare make eye contact — he'd be horribly
punished by the guard if he did, and he could lose all chances of being bought.
He didn’t think having an actual master could be any better than living in the
compound, but he liked to imagine that it was. Even just a simple change of
scenery could cheer him up slightly.
His potential master had a very soft, delicate voice, which Harry liked quite a
lot. He tried not to let it fool him, however. Very few masters were nice, and
the ones that were weren't even exceptionally nice — just beat and used their
slaves less than other masters. Although he’d been considered a slave for a
month, it was still hard for him to grasp the idea that slavery was legal once
again, like it was the 19th century. This was the 22nd century, for crying out
loud! The government was too corrupt and cruel.
“Of course,” the guard said like it was obvious. “He's only sixteen — he's a
virgin.”
The potential master smirked. “I like them young, makes them more vulnerable
and submissive. Virgins are even better,” he said evilly. “I like having how
they view and think of sex in my power.” The man smiled innocently at Harry,
though Harry could only see him out of his peripheral vision.
Harry shuddered, lowering his head even more. It sounded like this man wanted
to make sex a negative thing in his mind, which he kind of figured was
inevitable with masters, but it sounded awful. He shook his head rapidly,
blinking away the impending tears that had built up in his eyes.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Sophia shaking her head in denial
as well, not wanting anyone to hurt Harry. The boy had become like a little
brother to her, and she despised that she couldn't protect him from the dark
aspects of their society.
The man stuck a finger inside Harry's hole and twisted, causing Harry to squeak
and try to squirm away. Sophia looked away sadly, wishing she could take all of
Harry's pain away.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the guard chastised. “No sir. Stay.”
“Looks good to me,” Louis observed thoughtfully. “Why is his cock so small?” he
asked, making Harry squeeze his eyes shut tightly. He was so embarrassed.
“We keep the boys caged up to downsize their cocks,” the guard explained with a
chortle. “Makes them feel less powerful.” The slave couldn't have been more
thankful that his god awful cage had been removed from his cock. It was
absolutely humiliating to have his cock forcibly downsized, and the damn thing
had made his cock only around two inches.
Harry's potential master grabbed the teen’s tiny cock and balls with his hand
and tugged, making Harry whine. “Shut up,” he ordered sternly. “I won't have
any whining if you come live with me. You understand, boy?”
The slave nodded vigorously, feeling ashamed with himself. He knew he shouldn't
whine when a potential master had their way with him, he'd been taught that in
training, but he couldn't help it. The man’s words and actions scared him, and
it was only his instinct to try to squirm away and resist.
“What's his name?”
Harry hated being talked about like he wasn't even there, or like he was some
invalid that couldn't answer for himself.
“We take away the slaves’ names and replace them with a number,” the guard
explained. “He’s 1994, but his old name was Harry.”
“Harry,” the man said, testing the name out on his tongue. “I'll take him,” he
declared, causing Harry’s tears to fall. He knew he wanted to leave the
compound, but he was terrified for what was to come. “How much?” he asked the
guard, pulling out his checkbook and pen, ready and eager to purchase Harry.
“Five hundred thousand,” the guard said, pulling Harry by his curls to stand
him up.
Harry's new master shook his head, a small grin on his face. “Underage virgins
are always expensive,” he commented, filling out the check and handing it to
the guard.
That comment scared the slave. He wondered if his new master knew this from
past experiences, or if he'd just heard this fact from the news or friends that
had bought slaves. He desperately hoped it was the latter.
“Follow me,” the guard instructed the man, dragging Harry along with him by the
arm.
“No! Sophia!” Harry shouted, struggling against the guard. “Sophia!” He looked
back at his best friend — his big sister — and nearly broke when he saw tears
rolling down her face at a fast pace.
“Shut up!” the guard demanded sternly, getting ahold of Harry with both of his
insanely strong arms. He raised a hand and slapped the boy across the face once
he had him subdued, making Harry lower his head. His body was shaking with
sobs, and they didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.
“What's the big deal with this ‘Sophia?’” Harry's master asked the guard.
The guard rolled his eyes. “They've been cellmates for a month — 1994, here,
has grown attached to her, I suppose,” he said with a scowl. “Pathetic slaves.”
Harry could feel his master’s eyes on him, looking him up and down curiously.
The teen couldn't even feel self conscious anymore — he’d already been through
the pain of the man seeing his privates, and he had gotten so used to being
naked all the time that his lack of privacy no longer concerned him.
The slave decided to take a massive risk and speak without permission. “Please,
Sir, please,” he started, lips quivering from his sobs. “If you buy me, buy
her, too!” He wanted to get down on his knees and beg, but the guard still had
a firm grip on him.
His master shook his head, his eyes hard. “Don't tell me what to do, boy. Let's
go,” he said firmly, beginning to walk away with the guard pulling Harry along
once again
“Please! She's all I have!” Harry cried, struggling against the guard’s strong
grip again. His yelling and pleading only earned him yet another slap across
his face, and he stopped, feeling utterly defeated. He didn't even have the
opportunity to say goodbye to Sophia, as the guard slammed the steel cell door
shut behind them before they walked down the hall.
The boy decided to just give in, because he knew they'd win eventually. By
giving up early on, he could save himself from enduring more slaps to his face
or worse. He followed the two large, older men like a lost puppy, sniffling
every few seconds. The boy knew what was to come next — he'd seen it happen
with other slaves before. They were going to enter his new master’s address
into his tracker, and put a collar around his neck, along with a leash.
His new master leaned against the front desk of the compound and filled out the
needed paperwork to become Harry's official new master. Harry stood obediently
off to the side and waited, mouth shut and eyes cast downwards.
“Put my address in your tracker,” the man ordered once he'd finished his
paperwork. “Here.” He handed Harry a slip of paper with his address written on
it, and the boy took it, leaning down to type it into the device on his ankle.
He straightened back up and handed the man the paper when he was finished,
still not making eye contact.
The master smiled. “Now for my favorite part,” he said evilly with a smirk.
“Turn around so I can buckle this pretty little collar tightly around that neck
of yours.”
Although Harry really didn't want to, he obeyed, knowing it was in his best
interest to do so. He cringed when he felt the collar being buckled around his
neck, wincing when he glanced at the D-ring that hung loosely on the front of
it. The man turned his new slave back around to face him by tugging on the D-
ring, making Harry gasp. His master ran his fingers lightly over the leather
collar, a look of awe on his features. He thought his new slave was absolutely
gorgeous.
“Stunning,” he murmured to himself. “Can't wait to wreck you,” he added,
smiling innocently at the boy once again. Harry shuddered, making the man laugh
cruelly. “Let's get your leash, pet. Can't have you running away,” he narrated,
clipping the horrendous object onto the D-ring of Harry's collar. The slave
gulped.
The man thanked the guard who helped him before pulling Harry along by his
leash. Harry tripped multiple times on their way outside of the compound, but
his master didn't seem to care. He was only an object to him — merely a slave
for him to use.
Outside was different than Harry had remembered. He hadn't been outside in the
month he'd been at the compound. The last time he was outside was when the
guards who grabbed him from his home hauled him into their van. He shivered
involuntarily at that horrible memory.
He looked around as they walked to his master’s limo, but he still avoided his
master’s gaze. He didn't want to be punished so early, or at all, but he knew
punishment was inevitable when you were a slave. The cool, spring air felt nice
against his dry skin, and the blooming flowers smelled amazing. He wanted to
just sit and stare at the sky and take in all the beautiful wonders of the
world, but he knew that wouldn't happen. His master would take him home, use
him, and order him around until he decided to either kill him, sell him off, or
let him go. All of those options brought chills to Harry's spine, but he
figured it wasn't likely his master would keep him forever.
“Inside,” his master demanded, tugging him into the backseat of his limo.
Harry obeyed, sitting down on the comfortable leather seats. However, his
master gave him a hard look. “Slave, on the floor,” he ordered, snapping his
fingers and pointing to the limo’s carpeted floor.
How could he have forgotten? Slaves weren't permitted on furniture — they had
to kneel at their masters’ feet. He guessed the fresh, outside air had
mesmerized him a bit too much, because he shouldn't have been forgetting simple
rules such as that.
Slowly, Harry sank down to his knees and planted himself on the limo’s rough,
carpeted floor. He hoped he wouldn't get rug burns.
His master took his seat in front of him, and the limo began moving, driving to
the man’s house. Harry didn't dare take one last look at the compound — he
definitely wasn't going to miss anything about that place.
Except Sophia.
He shook his tears away, and tried to focus all his attention on his master.
Especially when the man gave him a command. “Look at me,” the man ordered
sternly, and Harry obeyed. He had been expecting to see an ugly man, even
though the man had a beautiful voice. He saw the exact opposite, though — his
master was very handsome, with brown, feathery hair and bright blue eyes. He
looked to be quite short, but he still had a couple inches on his slave, and he
seemed to be older than Harry — probably about 24.
The man smirked at Harry's blown eyes, loving his reaction. “My name is Louis,
but you will address me as master. I have rules, and I expect you to follow
them at all times like the good little slave you are. Yes?” he asked mockingly,
holding Harry's chin with his hand firmly.
Harry nodded mutely in reply.
“Good,” Louis said with a nod of his own. “First of all, I will have no
disobedience. I expect you to do whatever I ask of you, as my slave, and you
will do it to the best of your ability,” he explained. “Discipline will not be
light for any offenses, but especially this one. I also expect you to let me
use you for sexual favors, and you will fall asleep every night in between my
thighs with your pretty lips wrapped around my dick. Understand?”
Harry nodded again. So far, this didn't sound too bad, but he didn't like the
idea of sleeping with a cock in his mouth.
“Alright. You may only speak to me when whatever I say requires an answer. You
will wear your collar at all times — except for showering — and your leash will
be worn if I take you anywhere. You may look me in the eyes from now on, and
you will be allowed to have your name back, Harry, okay?”
“Yes, Master,” the boy answered monotonously. At least he was regaining some of
his rights.
“Lying is not permitted, as you should always be honest with me. Masturbating
is off limits as well, and you may only orgasm if I allow you to,” Louis added,
running his hands through Harry's hair. “Escaping is an absolute no-no,
understand? You'll never be able to make it out, but if I catch you trying,
there will be hell to pay. Are we clear?”
“Y–yes, Master.” Harry nodded vigorously. He figured he would try to escape at
one point, but he'd need to plan well. Making friends with a staff member that
Louis was guaranteed to have could help, he thought.
“You will stay naked at all times as well. Slaves don't need clothes — I want
something nice to look at. No internet access, either. I won't have you trying
to get help,” he told the boy sternly. “Clear?”
“Yes, Master,” Harry agreed with a shudder. The idea of being naked all the
time sounded greatly humiliating and degrading to him. He looked down out of
shame, wishing he could be at his childhood home instead of here. His mum had
taken great care of him — she was a wonderful woman. Harry knew she had to be
heartbroken at her son becoming a slave, but there wasn't anything she could do
when the guards showed up at their house and took him forcefully. Harry
wondered how she was doing — how she was coping with his absence, knowing her
son is being abused constantly.
“Excellent,” Louis said with a sly smirk. “Because we're here. Come along,
pet.”
He desperately tried not to cry.
 
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi everyone!
     Before you start reading, I just want to say that I'm very pleased
     with all the reactions I've gotten so far! I'm so glad you're all
     liking it! :)
     Also, I wanted to thank my bestest friend (you know who you are ;) )
     for Domming me yesterday and punishing me because I really, really,
     really needed it and I love you so much and you're perfect. <3
     Anyways, enjoy! :)
After Harry was roughly pulled into Louis’ house by his dreaded leash, a man
who he assumed to be his master’s butler greeted him with a professional smile.
The man didn't even acknowledge his nakedness, or collar and leash. Harry
wasn't surprised by this, though, because it wasn't exactly unusual to see a
naked sex slave anymore, sadly.
“Hi, Sir. How was everything?” the butler asked, taking Louis’ blazer and
hanging it up for him. “Good, I see?” He smiled nicely at Harry. The slave
simply nodded his head in reply, not knowing if he was allowed to speak to his
master’s staff members or not.
“Very good,” Louis replied with a smirk. “This is my sex slave, Harry. Harry,
this is Mr. Jensen,” the master introduced the two.
“Nice to meet you, lad,” Mr. Jensen greeted Harry. The slave only nodded in
reply once again, still feeling the strong urge to cry.
Louis unclipped the leash from Harry's collar and hung it up next to his
blazer. “Let me show you around, Harry,” the man said, grabbing Harry by the
cock harshly and pulling him up the stairs beside him, with his hand still
firmly around the boy’s tiny cock.
Harry squeaked, trying to pull away, but Louis squeezed his cock even tighter.
“Don't you dare pull away from me,” the man hissed, eyes glaring into Harry's.
“Be a good little pet and follow me upstairs.”
“Yes, Master,” the slave replied obediently, finally letting his tears fall.
At the top of the stairs, Louis led Harry into their bedroom, still holding the
slave’s cock tightly. He sat Harry on the bed and knelt in front of him,
watching as the slave tried desperately not to touch his sore cock as a result
of Louis’ manhandling.
The master dried Harry's tears with his thumbs. “Don't cry, princess,” he said
with a fake sadness in his voice. “We're going to have a lot of fun together —
I promise.” He smiled evilly, stroking Harry's cheeks with his cold, calloused
hands.
The slave fidgeted on the comfortable bed, crying harder at Louis’ words. He
was confused as to why he was allowed on the bed, because slaves weren't
allowed on any furniture. He was too scared to ask this, however, not wanting
to risk being shoved back on the floor where slaves usually belonged.
Louis rolled his eyes. “Quit whining,” he said sternly. “I told you before I
bought you that I wouldn't stand for that kind of behaviour once I own you,” he
added firmly, tugging Harry's hair.
The slave held back yet another whine, breathing deeply to calm down. “S–sorry,
Master,” he said sadly, avoiding Louis’ harsh gaze.
“I bet you are,” the older man said, letting go of Harry's hair. He stepped
back from his bed and stared at his slave intimidatingly, his arms crossed over
his chest. “Bend over, arse in the air,” he ordered out of the blue.
“W–wha—” Harry spluttered before Louis cut him off.
“Do I need to force you to bend over and show me that pretty little hole of
yours again?” Louis asked, eyebrows raised. “I can guarantee you won't like it
if I do.”
Harry lowered his head submissively. “Yes, Master.” He stood up and turned
around, resting his head comfortably on the bed while he bent over. Here he
was, completely vulnerable to his master once again. He knew he would most
likely find himself in this position more often than not, but he closed his
eyes and tried not to think about it.
Without any kind of warning, Harry felt three fingers prodding at his hole. He
was about to panic and screech in protest, having been fisted dry during
training and knowing how much it hurt. Louis laughed when he saw Harry's
frantic face, however, and said, “Relax. I'm going to lube them.”
The slave relaxed just a bit, but he was still extremely nervous. It hadn't
been all too pleasant when the man stuck his finger in him at the compound and
twisted it around inside him.
Harry squeaked when the first finger entered him, making him squeeze his eyes
shut tightly. The man quickly added his second finger and scissored him, and
finally added the third and final finger he was going to use. Harry whined and
squirmed throughout the experience, and he was surprised that Louis didn't
scold him — the man had seemingly chosen to ignore him.
However, the slave felt his master fumbling around for something nearby, and he
nearly jumped and yelled when he felt a cold buttplug enter his hole. Harry
shook his head in defiance, trying to pull away, but Louis had a firm grip on
his torso.
“Stay still,” the master commanded sternly, making his slave freeze and listen
to the older man. He knew the consequences would be too great if he defied him
again.
The butt plug sank into Harry's cute hole inch by inch, slowly pushing past the
tight ring of muscle. Once it was in, the jewel on the end poked out
beautifully, and Louis tapped it roughly, causing Harry to jump.
“D–doesn't feel good,” Harry whined, before he realized his mistake. He wasn't
to speak to his master unless what his master said required an answer.
Louis pushed on the plug hard, with all his might. “What was that?” he asked
firmly, eyebrows raised and lips pulled into a thin line. “I don't believe you
had a reason to speak to me. Did you?”
Harry shook his head, more tears falling. He, like always, hated everything
about his situation. He shouldn't have to worry about whether or not he was
allowed to speak, because he was a human being and should have basic human
rights. But he sadly didn't.
Louis pulled his hand away from the plug. “You are to wear this until morning,”
he instructed the younger boy. “I won't have any complaining, either. You'll be
extremely sorry if you do.” The man raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was
daring the slave to complain about not being able to complain. The man found
the whole idea quite humorous, honestly — how much control he had over the
teenaged slave.
Harry looked down and wiped his runny nose with his hand. “Yes, Master,” he
said, trying with all his might to hold back a whimper. He decided Louis
wouldn't appreciate that after the lecture he'd just given. He'd wanted to tell
him the plug was very uncomfortable and wasn't hitting his prostate at all, and
therefore wasn't giving him any pleasure and was a right nuisance. But after
some thought about that, he realized that was the point — Louis wanted him to
be uncomfortable.
The master nodded curtly. “Very well. Let's go to bed, now — it's late,” he
said, stripping off his clothes right in front of Harry.
Harry squeaked, closing his eyes, making Louis laugh loudly. “Don't look away,
now,” he ordered, standing nude in front of the boy and tipping his chin up
with his thumb and index finger. “Open your eyes,” he demanded, tapping the
side of Harry's soft face with his fingers.
The slave obeyed, blushing madly when he had a look at his master’s naked body.
He had to admit that the older man was very hot, but he still hated him. It
didn't matter if his master was hot or not; he was still going to use and abuse
him all the same.
All the masters were the same.
At the look on Harry's face, a cruel idea suddenly came into Louis’ mind.
“Stroke my cock,” he ordered, face incredibly stern. “Just once.”
Harry hesitated unknowingly, extremely nervous and scared. His master had just
bought him and took him home that day, and he was already going to use him? He
wanted to cry.
“Don't make me ask you again,” the man told Harry firmly, clearly meaning
business. “Stroke my cock one time. Just to see how it feels,” he ordered.
Tentatively, Harry reached his right hand out and placed it on his master’s
big, flaccid cock. He looked up at him uncertainly, but Louis simply stared at
him. Taking a deep breath, the young boy stroked the man’s cock one time,
shivering in apprehensiveness as he did so. He couldn't imagine having that
cock in either of his holes, seeing how big and scary it looked. At the slave
compound, the trainers always only had him practice with dildos, because virgin
slaves were way more expensive than slaves whose innocence had been taken from
them. Especially underage virgins.
Louis nodded in silent approval. “Good boy,” he praised, though he didn't smile
or give him any other type of encouragement. That wasn't unusual, as slaves
were, indeed, property, and Harry knew Louis didn't care how he felt.
Obviously, because he wouldn't own him if he did. “Let's go to bed, now.”
Harry desperately wanted to ask if he could shower before he slept, but it
seemed that Louis didn't want to do that just yet — probably didn't trust him
enough. The slave didn't exactly blame him.
Louis faced Harry before he got in bed. “And if you dare get brave enough to
try to escape, you will be caught and disciplined severely,” the man reminded
him strictly. “Your tracker will beep and shock you if you go downstairs.”
Harry shivered just thinking about being caught and disciplined. He was
definitely going to have to plan his escape carefully. Where would he go,
though? His first thought was his mum’s house, but he didn't know how to get
there! He didn't want to stress about that unneeded topic, however, so he told
himself he could most likely get a staff member of Louis’ to help him. “Yes,
Master.”
The man lay down in his ginormous, comfy bed on his back and looked to Harry
expectantly. “Well?” he asked. “What are you waiting for?”
That's when things clicked in Harry's mind. He'd completely forgotten about
being required to fall asleep with his master’s cock in his mouth and keep it
there through the duration of the night, or maybe even until Louis allowed him
to take it out of his mouth. He refrained from grimacing in disgust at the
thought.
Louis didn't look impressed. “Come here,” he ordered, crooking his index
finger. “You know what to do, slave.” Harry inwardly cringed at the name he'd
been called. He supposed it was better than menace or cockslut, though. Those
memories made him shudder.
The slave knew he had no other choice but to obey, so he slowly got on the bed
and positioned himself so he was on his stomach. He looked to Louis for
approval or some guidance, or both, ideally, but the man simply stared at him
once again. Reluctantly, Harry grasped his master’s cock in his right hand and
guided it towards his awaiting mouth. He'd had multiple trainers’ cocks in his
mouth during his training at the compound, but that didn't mean this was any
easier. In fact, it was harder, because he knew all the terrible things that
could happen to a slave involving a master’s cock.
The cock felt incredibly heavy in his small mouth, and quite large as well. He
uncertainly sucked a little to get a feel for the organ’s length, but ceased in
his actions right away at the disappointment he saw on his master’s gorgeous
face. Trying to relax so he would stop sucking on the cock in his mouth and
actually fall asleep as well, he loosened his lips and took a deep breath in.
He'd calmed down significantly, until he looked up and saw Louis’ eyes were
closed and he was trying to sleep. It sickened him how the man acted like this
was perfectly normal, like it was okay to force a boy to hold a cock in his
mouth for however long he pleased. Harry closed his eyes after that, trying to
rid himself of the disgusting thoughts.
_____
The slave woke up the next morning, cock still in his mouth. He was surprised
he'd slept so well like that, but it was true that he hadn't slept in a real,
cozy bed for over a month. The straw beds at the slave compound hardly kept him
a degree warmer.
He nearly squealed when he felt Louis stroke his hair, realizing the man was
awake. But, thankfully, he was able to keep quiet and hold the flaccid cock in
his mouth. Louis’ penis was wet and covered in drool, but he didn't seem to
mind — in fact, he seemed quite satisfied with his slave’s obedience and work.
“You did very well,” the man praised, carding his fingers through Harry's
curls. “Get up, now.”
Harry obeyed without question, eager to release the cock from his mouth, but at
the same time anxious for what was to come. Was Louis going to fuck him? Make
him perform more sexual favors? He didn't know. All he knew was he didn't want
any of that, but he did, however, want the dreaded butt plug taken out from his
sore hole.
Thankfully, his wishes came true, because Louis pulled the plug from his hole
without any warning. His rosebud resisted a little, the tight muscles closing
around the plug. Harry blushed, feeling his muscles resisting and becoming
embarrassed, not wanting Louis to see.
However, Harry's face grew even redder when his fear of Louis seeing was true.
“Fucking hot,” Louis said, setting the plug on his nightstand. “God.”
The master let out a large breath of air, seemingly trying to calm himself down
and not get too aroused before he spoke. “Turn around.”
The slave obeyed, eyes cast to the floor as he did so. Suddenly, Louis grabbed
his cock and began harshly tossing him off, stroking up and down rapidly. Harry
shook his head, not wanting to do anything sexual. However, his thought of not
wanting to do anything sexual quickly dispersed when pleasure overwhelmed him.
He desperately tried not to whine and squirm.
Louis smirked, seeing his slave on the brink of orgasm turned him on — he loved
being in control of when the teen could come. Feeling particularly evil, he
abruptly stopped in his actions and tore his hand away completely, eagerly
watching his slave’s reaction.
“No, Master,” Harry whined without thinking. “Please.” The slave couldn't
believe he was actually begging his brand new master to jack him off, as that
was something he never imagined himself doing. He promised himself from the
very beginning of his training at the compound that he'd never beg for anything
sexual from his master or give in. It seemed he was already losing his faith in
his belief that he was still a regular human.
Louis shook his head in disbelief, beyond angry and upset that Harry kept
speaking when it wasn't needed. “No,” he said sternly. The man gave Harry's
dick a slap, making it slap back and hit his thigh, before he slapped his face.
“We don't speak when not needed, do we now?”
Harry shook his head guiltily, tears falling at the harsh treatment he'd just
received. “No, Master.”
The slave shuddered at his submissive reply, feeling shameful. He was giving in
too quickly, and that thought scared him to no end.
 
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi everyone!
     Sorry this took so long!
     BEFORE YOU READ: please remember that this is a DARK story! Read the
     tags as well! Louis is NOT a good person in this — at all! Thank you.
     I hope you enjoy!
Harry played with his eggs throughout breakfast, not daring to speak to his
master. The man had allowed him to sit in a chair across from him at the
kitchen table, but there was a catch. His ankle was chained to the table, and
Louis had pretty much ingrained in his brain that this was a privilege he
needed to earn.
There was also the fact that he was naked. It was considered acceptable and
normal for slaves to parade around naked anywhere their master wished to take
them, but it was still uncomfortable. Being denied clothing was utterly
humiliating, and it was one of the most essential parts to being a slave,
because property didn't need clothes, as he'd been taught.
The poor boy had pretty much had rules drilled into his head throughout his
time at the training facility. It would be nearly impossible for him to forget
all he'd learned, since he'd been made to recite every single rule twice each
day. He'd already determined it was a wonderful thing he had a good memory, for
his sake of not getting punished, because he'd get in trouble with his master
all the time if he couldn't remember his rules.
As the slave eyed his master worriedly from the opposite side of the table, he
tried not to wince and curl in on himself whenever the older man smirked at him
or gave him evil looks simply for the fun of it.
Louis was, indeed, a very sick man.
Which was why Harry did his absolute best to ignore the terrifying glances that
were directed at him by his master by messing with his plate of food
absentmindedly. While his master had a luxurious plate filled with pancakes, an
omelette, bacon, and fresh fruit, Harry was given a plate full of plain, bland
eggs that didn't even have pepper on them. He supposed he should consider
himself lucky, because eggs weren't exactly known as ‘slave food,’ but he
couldn't stop his mouth from watering at the scrumptious sight of his master’s
meal.
“Quit playing with your food or you won't have the right to use utensils,”
Louis barked suddenly, causing Harry’s eyes to widen.
“I didn't mean—” he started, then realized his mistake.
“What I said did not require a response,” the man said icily. “Hand them over.”
He held out his hand expectantly.
It took Harry a moment to understand what Louis wanted, and tears sprang to his
eyes when he realized it. He thought he'd been crying too much lately, but he’d
just lost his right to use utensils! His life couldn't get much worse, except
for when Louis forced him to do more sexual and twisted things. But that was
yet to come.
He slowly and shakily passed Louis his fork, spoon, and knife, gently placing
the silverware in the man’s hand as he let his tears fall. Quickly looking down
so his master wouldn't see, because he knew he wasn't allowed to be a cry baby,
he sniffled and said, “Yes, Master.”
Louis smiled evilly, clearly satisfied with his slave’s obedience. He folded
his hands atop the table and spoke. “You no longer withhold basic human
rights,” he said coldly, face turning back to stern once again. “That is
something you need to be reminded of constantly and learn. You understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Harry whispered, inwardly cringing at the man’s harsh words.
They hurt — they hurt more than any physical pain he’d endured so far had.
Listening while someone tells you you're no longer considered human and will
never be treated as such again wasn't easy by any means. It tore Harry’s heart
into even more pieces than before.
Mr. Jensen came into the dining room and took away both Louis and Harry’s
plates, even though the slave wasn't finished eating yet. When Master was done
with his meal, then so was the slave.
Harry begged Mr. Jensen silently with his eyes, pleading for the employee to
help him escape, but the butler had given Harry another sympathetic look. The
slave inwardly sighed in defeat, knowing escaping would take a lot of careful
planning and precise actions to successfully carry it out.
Louis stood up and unchained Harry's ankle, snapping his fingers and shooting
the boy a stern look. The slave desperately racked his brain for what his
master could possibly want, but he couldn't think of anything. They hadn't
learned commands given by the snap of fingers and a knowing look; they'd
learned commands by word of mouth.
The young boy crumbled with disappointment, because he didn't want Louis to
scold or lecture him again. Although it was never his intention to completely
obey his Master, he'd much rather be informed of his Master’s requests so that
he could avoid punishment.
“Get up and follow me,” Louis ordered and rolled his eyes. “Did you not learn
what snapping of fingers means, Harry?” he asked condescendingly, the same cold
look still on his face.
Harry shook his head. “N–No, Master.” He looked down out of shame and
embarrassment, feeling like he'd done something wrong. What he'd done was wrong
to a Master, but inhumane to a slave.
Louis slid a hand down his face in annoyance, which made Harry want to scoff.
If his master didn't feel like dealing with the effort and work it took to own
a slave, why did he bother to purchase him? Many masters were lazy men who
couldn't be bothered to teach their slaves, which was the point of the training
facility. But, if they had specific rules different from what most slaves were
taught, they needed to teach their slaves. It made no sense that they were too
lazy to bother with it, often criticizing their slaves for being ‘too stupid’
to know what their master wanted.
The entire situation wasn't fair.
Standing up, Louis said, “It means I want you to follow me,” he explained,
snapping his fingers again, repeating the command.
Harry hesitated before he stood, feeling his fear rise again. Where were they
going? What was Louis going to make him do?
“Well, come on, then,” the older man repeated, his voice raising. “Don't just
sit there like a dolt.”
“S–Sorry, Master.” Harry quickly stood to his feet and waited for Louis to take
him somewhere. He let out a deep breath when his master grabbed his collar out
of the blue and yanked upwards, forcing him to stare into the older man’s deep
blue eyes.
“You have a lot to learn,” he said, running a finger from his unoccupied hand
along Harry's jaw intimidatingly. “Were going to do some stuff today, and you
will not whine, cry, or disobey me. You understand?”
Harry’s bottom lip wobbled, tears already forming behind his eyes. Whenever
Louis instructed him not to cry or whine, it always seemed to trigger those
emotions inside him, and Harry was incredibly afraid that would get himself in
trouble someday. “Yes, Master,” he forced out, turning his gaze to his right
the best he could, not wanting Louis to notice his impending tears.
But the man grabbed his collar even harder and forced his head back to facing
forwards. “We haven't even started yet and you're crying,” he observed, though
he didn't seem mad. More amused than anything else. “Don't do that.”
Before anything else could happen, Louis forcefully tugged Harry along by the
D-ring of his collar and threw him to the floor of the family room, making
Harry let out a loud squeak and curl into the fetal position on the harsh
carpet.
“Get up,” Louis demanded, sitting down on the couch, “and put your pretty
little lips to good use.”
Harry slowly sat up, wincing in pain from his tough fall. His master was
undoubtedly strong, and he hadn't thrown him lightly. There was already a dull
ache in his head, and his neck was sore from the tugs on his collar and from
the restricting material of the leather.
“Hurry up,” the man called, leaning back into the cushions and relaxing. “I
don't have all day.”
Refraining from crying once more, because Harry wasn't stupid — he knew what
his master wanted, he stood up and scurried to the man, dropping to his knees
in front of him. He quickly unzipped the man’s tight jeans and shimmied them
down his legs, along with his plaid boxers. The poor boy cringed when he saw
the size of Louis’ cock, not knowing how he'd be able to take even half of it.
Of course, his master knew the answer to that.
He grabbed Harry by his curls and guided his mouth to his cock, Harry trying to
protest and whine around the man’s length. Harry had never been one to enjoy
giving blowjobs, because he had a terrible gag reflex and couldn't take it. But
his master was making him, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
“Don't suck yet,” Louis said, resting his hand in Harry's curls. “Simply sit
there and look pretty for me on your knees, with your lips around my flaccid
cock.”
Harry whined around Louis’ cock but obeyed, causing the older man to grin in
satisfaction. He had picked the perfect slave.
The sexual organ felt heavy in Harry's mouth, even though he wasn't fully hard
yet. He had taken too much in as well, making him have to really concentrate on
not choking. His master definitely wouldn't appreciate being thrown up upon, he
knew.
Even though having a slave kneeling before you with his mouth around your soft
cock was incredibly enticing, he didn't want to get bored, so the master
reached for the TV remote and turned on the latest football game. That was when
he realized he didn't have a beer, and he couldn't ask his slave to retrieve
one for him.
Groaning, Louis yelled out, “Mr. Jensen! Beer!”
The man came scurrying into the living room no more than a minute later with an
opened bottle of beer, handing it to his boss. He didn't pay any mind to the
situation before him, having seen slaves being used at his previous jobs, but
Harry was blushing harder than ever. It wasn't like he hadn't performed sexual
activities in front of other people before, but he was embarrassed that his
master’s own worker was seeing him this way. The predicament made him feel even
more inferior, like it was normal to see a slave like him in his position.
Which, it was, but that didn't mean it was all right.
Louis took a big gulp of his beer and smiled evilly down at his beautiful
slave, who looked extremely submissive right now. He stuck a hand back in
Harry's hair again and forced his mouth off his cock, which was followed by a
stream of saliva. “How's it feel to be gagged with your master’s cock?” He took
another swig of beer, feeling incredibly powerful.
Harry wasn't exactly sure if he was meant to answer Louis’ question. He
couldn't tell if it had been rhetorical, or if his master was humiliating him
again. Sadly, he figured it was the latter.
Apparently, he'd been taking too long to answer, because Louis yanked his hair
again and said, “Answer me.”
“I don't—” Harry began, before he realized that disagreeing with his master
probably wasn't a good idea. “I mean—”
Louis slapped his cheek, but not too hard — just enough force to get his
slave’s attention. “Answer me properly,” he commanded, hand still stuck in
Harry's curls.
Harry flinched at the slap, his cheek already turning red due to the hit.
“Good, Master,” he said, proud of himself for not stuttering. He had to refrain
from vomiting at his words, though, because what the man was doing to him was
downright disgusting and wrong. But he was helpless.
“Good job,” Louis praised, running a hand over the angry red place where he'd
hit Harry.
This confused Harry.
Masters weren't supposed to praise their slaves, because it was expected of
slaves to always be submissive and obedient — it was frowned upon if they
weren't. Slaves were to obey their masters’ every command and conform to it to
the best of their ability, without praise or encouragement. It was just the way
things were.
It didn't seem to Harry that his new master had any sympathy or feelings of
reluctance and hesitance to hurt and use him as he pleased, but maybe Harry was
wrong. Perhaps he could succeed in getting his master’s soft side out?
“Suck on it now,” Louis ordered, pulling Harry from his confused thoughts.
Before it registered in Harry's mind what he was doing, he shook his head in
retaliation, lips closed tight.
“Really now?” Louis said, clearly unimpressed. “Do you want Master to punish
you? Because, believe me, I have absolutely no problem with doing that, if
that's what you want.” He eyed Harry sternly, his blue eyes the coldest Harry
had seen them so far.
Frightened, Harry shook his head again, this time agreeing with his master.
“No, Master,” he said softly, opening his mouth the fastest he'd ever done in
his life, waiting for it to be filled with his master’s dick.
He fed his dick through Harry's lips, as far as it would fit into the slave’s
awaiting mouth, and laid back, waiting for his slave to get to work.
Harry gagged but did his best, running his tongue along the underside, where
the vein was, and licking all over. He'd been taught how to give professional
blowjobs, but it was extremely difficult when he had the entire length in his
mouth. That wasn't how he'd been taught. Normally, he'd swirl his tongue around
the tip to get his master hard first, but that wasn't what Louis wanted.
“That's it,” Louis moaned, his eyes closed tightly in immense pleasure. “Choke
on my cock.” He looked to his side and grabbed his belt he'd taken off the
night before but left on the couch, smirking at it. He had a wonderful idea —
one to teach his slave a lesson that it was impolite to try to defy your
master.
Wrapping the belt around the back of Harry's head, he buckled it at his own
hip, effectively trapping Harry's mouth around his cock. His slave’s eyes
followed his hands so he could see what the man was doing, but he still didn't
understand.
Louis watched as the slave attempted to pull back from his cock, confused about
what the purpose of the belt was. It was only when he noticed the belt kept him
from pulling off that tears slid down his cheeks, and he gagged even more.
The master rolled his eyes, thrusting into Harry's mouth harshly, just to see
the young boy’s reaction. Of course, Harry gagged (no surprise there), and
Louis leaned back in the couch cushions once again, satisfied with his work.
With every step, Louis was putting Harry in his place and leading him into
complete and total submission — the perfect and ideal mentality a slave should
possess. But, along with every step he accomplished, he found himself feeling
more and more guilty.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi everyone!
     BEFORE YOU READ: this chapter contains rape! If this triggers you, DO
     NOT READ! I don't want to harm anyone, and I also don't want any
     obnoxious comments from readers who failed to read my warning and the
     tags.
     Thank you.
     Enjoy!
"Ten, Master!” Harry shouted, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut
tightly in pain.
The faint sound of the riding crop hitting the floor could be heard behind
where Harry lay face down on a spanking bench, quivering in fear of his master.
He looked absolutely demolished, with his curls splayed out all over his
forehead, and tears dripping down his cheeks.
His master had just whipped him ten times on the bum for speaking to Mr. Jensen
without permission. The boy had been trying to get help from the butler, to see
about escaping. But the only words he got out before Louis came back in the
room were ‘Mr. Jensen—’ in a hushed tone, and then he was yanked backwards by
Louis.
A calloused hand could be felt rubbing roughly over Harry's bright red bum,
making him whimper and try not to squirm. “What did you learn?” Louis asked,
squeezing Harry's bum harshly.
Harry whimpered. “Not to talk to the staff, Master,” he replied shakily, the
feeling of Louis’ hands anywhere on his body making him extremely uncomfortable
and fearful. The man’s hands never did anything nice for him, and in his
opinion, that gave him every right to fear them.
“Good,” Louis murmured, spanking Harry's bum one last time, making the boy jerk
forward slightly within his restraints. “Do you know what I've been waiting to
do for too long now?” he breathed, kneeling down and opening up Harry's cheeks
with his hands.
The slave took in a sharp breath, not wanting to believe what his mind was
screaming at him. He was going to rape him, and there was nothing he could do
about it. “No, Master,” he said with a whimper.
Louis slapped his already flaming arse. “Do not lie to me,” he reprimanded,
squeezing the boy’s rosy red cheeks harshly within his rough hands. “I'll
repeat myself. Do you know what I've been waiting to do for too long now?” he
said again, leaning over his slave’s exposed body and tugging on his curls,
effectively yanking the boy’s head back.
“Yes, Master,” Harry replied honestly this time, with his lips trembling. In
all honesty, the boy was surprised that his master hadn't fucked him his very
first night here. Almost all masters didn't have any morals whatsoever, so it
wouldn't have been too surprising if that was what Louis had wanted.
The slave shook slightly on the spanking bench, still in a little bit of shock
and terror because of what he knew was to come. Although he was a virgin, he'd
gone through some extensive sex training at the slave compound, so he would
know how to please his master in any possible way they could want. He'd been
educated on the importance of giving your master the utmost pleasure, and
saving his for last — if allowed to receive any at all. He was an expert at
giving blowjobs and handjobs, and even rimjobs. Most masters preferred to rim
their slaves, however — not the other way around.
He'd been taught everything there was to know about having sex your master and
pleasing them, and what he'd learned was terrifying.
Louis smirked. “And what is that?” he asked the boy teasingly, lightly running
his fingers along the small of Harry's back.
Harry knew what his master was doing. He was teasing and mocking him, with the
purpose of dragging out his torture. It was terrible, knowing just what your
master wanted to do and was going to do to you. He figured the man drag out his
physiological torture just for the hell of it, because most masters got off on
seeing their slave in pain.
It was why they were a master, after all.
The man slapped Harry's arse again when he took too long to reply, making Harry
jerk forward in his binds with a squeak. “When I ask you a question,” he
snarled, yanking Harry's hair back again, “I expect an answer. Now, open that
pretty little mouth of yours and tell me.”
“You want to–to rape me,” Harry whispered, voice cracking.
Louis smiled evilly. “I wouldn't call it rape,” he said, even though that was
exactly what was going to occur — Harry did not want it, “I’d call it you being
a good little slave and cooperating while your master uses your holes. Hmm?”
“Yes, Master.” There was no point in fighting anymore, Harry had decided. Louis
would always get what he wants, because he had full and legal ownership over
him.
Harry was Louis’ slave — his legal property, and nothing was going to change
that. Unless he was somehow able to find a way to escape and succeed, but there
was thinking and planning needed to be done on that.
“Wonderful,” Louis commented, stepping back from Harry’s uncomfortable body on
the spanking bench and reaching for his belt. His cock had already reached full
hardness just from whipping his slave’s arse, and he desperately needed
release. And what better way to get that than to use his very own slave right
in front of him, just waiting to be taken advantage of?
The slave could hear the clanking of the metal buckle on his master’s belt, and
he knew the man was preparing to undress. He took in a deep breath and tried to
blink his impending tears away, not wanting to grant Louis the satisfaction of
making him cry even before he started, but it was no use. The boy was too
scared.
Louis dropped his belt on the floor and pulled his jeans and boxers off in one
go, and then removing his shirt. He threw all of his clothes off to the side
and out of the way, then approached his slave. He could tell Harry was already
crying — he wasn't stupid. His slave’s shoulders were shaking a bit, and he let
out little sniffles and whimpers every few seconds.
The master rolled his eyes. “I haven't even started yet,” he commented,
grabbing a bottle of lube from one of his cabinets full of toys and positioning
himself behind Harry. “What’s wrong, hmm?” he asked tauntingly as he squirted
some of the sticky substance on his finger, acting like he had no idea why
Harry was upset.
“I don't w–want to do this,” Harry told the man with a desperate whimper.
“P–Please. ‘M only sixteen,” he pleaded, trying to reason with the older man.
Maybe bringing up his age would invoke some form of sympathy in the cruel man?
Louis paused, biting his lip. He knew he really shouldn't be having second
thoughts about having sex with his slave, because this was what he purchased
him for, after all! But, when he considered the slave’s age, sixteen was young
— as young as Lottie— no. He wouldn't think of her name, let alone feel remorse
for his slave because of her.
Anger taking over Louis, he pulled apart Harry's cheeks with one hand and
brought his lube covered finger up to the boy’s hole, slowly circling around
it. Once the cold substance was spread enough and covered all around Harry's
little rosebud between his cheeks, the man let go of the boy’s bum and wiped
his finger on his bare leg.
“No, please,” Harry cried, squirming when he felt Louis position himself at his
entrance. “You didn't even open me up!” he exclaimed with a whine, his tears
falling down his cheeks at a rapid pace.
“Slaves have to earn the privilege of being opened up by their master,” Louis
snarled, grabbing onto Harry's lower back for support and resting there for a
minute. “And did I say you could speak?” he asked harshly, before he harshly
thrusted his entire cock inside the slave.
Harry couldn't answer the man, for he screeched and continued to cry, his
entire body shaking as his master thrusted inside his tiny hole at a rapid
pace. Part of him couldn't believe this was happening — that his master was
using him and taking advantage of him already. But the bigger, smarter part of
him believed it and understood that the situation was inevitable. There was
nothing he could have done to prevent this from happening.
A searing pain erupted on his hole immediately after Louis forced his cock
inside him. The man hadn't given him nearly enough prep (not that he expected
him to, really), so his hole was being stretched extremely wide.
The slave couldn't do anything but whimper and cry throughout, closing his eyes
and trying to imagine himself anywhere else. He often used this method during
his brutal training at the compound. Even though it didn't totally work, it did
help take his mind off his current misery a little bit, and that was better
than nothing at all.
Louis was moaning and groaning in pleasure, while all the slave could do was
scream and cry in the pain his master was causing him while he received
pleasure from him. It was sick, but it was allowed, and there was nothing that
could change that.
“Who do you belong to?” Louis bellowed, slapping Harry's bum as he punctuated
his speech with a particularly harsh thrust.
Harry whimpered, looking down at the floor. He honestly didn't think Louis
really expected him to answer, but apparently he did, because he pulled his
hair and slapped his face lightly.
“Who do you belong to?” he repeated, pausing in his thrusts temporarily.
“You,” Harry whispered brokenly, cheeks red from all the crying he'd done in
the past half hour. “I belong to you, Master.” He shivered at the words he
spoke, hating them with his entire being.
Louis smirked, biting his bottom lip as he picked up in his thrusts again, his
pace increasing. “That's right, baby,” he murmured evilly, throwing his head
back in pleasure. “And don’t you forget that.”
The slave shook his head in denial, feeling disgusted with himself for giving
in and uttering those words that he so wanted to be false. But what other
choice did he have? Louis could hurt him even more than he already did, and in
so many different ways. Hell, he could kill him or sell him off if he so
desired. He had to be careful with what he said and did.
Harry's body stopped hitting the sides of the spanking bench when Louis ceased
in his thrusts, the wood leaving behind a dull ache in his arms and legs.
Louis let out a moan of pleasure as he felt his climax coming on, quickly
pulling out of his slave’s abused hole. He grasped a handful of Harry's brunet
curls in his hand and directed his face towards him, effectively aiming his
dick at the boy’s face. Harry’s eyes widened a little when he was met with his
master’s dick in his face, but he squeezed them shut and made sure his mouth
was closed when he realized the man was going to release all over his face.
The master let out his loudest moan yet as he stopped stroking his dick,
allowing his ropes of white come to squirt out of him and all over Harry’s
gorgeous face. He was out of breath when he was done, breathing heavily and
letting his flaccid dick fall back between his legs.
He went around the spanking bench and unlocked the cuffs around Harry's ankles
and hands that trapped him on the device, ignoring Harry's continuous sniffles,
shakes, and cries as he did so. Harry didn't bother to stand up when he was
free, waiting for an order from Louis.
“Stand up,” Louis ordered, wiping his sweaty face and crossing his arms over
his chest.
Slowly, Harry stood up, wincing and cringing at the ache in his entire body —
especially his hole. His master hadn't been gracious at all, and the entire
fucking had taken a huge toll on him. The joints in his legs killed him when he
turned around to face his master, and he looked down so the man wouldn't see
his painful tears.
But nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
Louis stared at him hard for a second, then grabbed ahold of Harry's chin
roughly, forcing the young boy to look him in the eyes. He didn't say anything
for a few minutes, and instead studied his work he'd done. The man thought the
boy looked positively beautiful with his come on his cherub looking face, and
he didn't want to ever look away.
Figuring he didn't have to do away with this wonderful memory, Louis smirked
and fetched his phone from the nearby table. He opened the camera app and held
his phone up, grinning at his fascinating idea. “Smile!” he exclaimed with fake
enthusiasm, taking a picture of his slave’s wrecked body and come covered
features.
The boy didn't smile or even change his facial expression. He was too broken to
do so. So, he simply stood there and shook with light sobs while Louis admired
him cruelly.
Louis put his phone down and set it aside, gripping Harry's chin again. “How
was that, baby?” she asked condescendingly, stroking a clean part of Harry's
cheek lightly. “Was it fun?”
“N–No, Master,” Harry whispered, curling in on himself. He just needed a break
— especially after his terrible experience. He didn't even want to look at
Louis right now, let alone speak to him. The man had already damaged him.
“Hmm,” Louis hummed. “I think it was quite fun, in my opinion. You were a very
good, nice fuck.” He smiled, trailing his hand along Harry's cheek some more
until he landed a harsh slap to the boy’s face.
Harry squealed, cowering and clutching his cheek in pain. The tears still
dripped from his eyes, and the come felt sticky and thick on the slave’s face
as it dried.
“Go clean yourself up,” Louis demanded, eyeing the boy with disgust. “Although
you do look quite gorgeous with my semen on your face, you can't stay like that
all day. Go.” He shooed the boy away, Harry immediately scrambling up the
stairs to follow orders.
The slave cried silently as he wet a washcloth and wiped all the come from his
face, desperately wanting to take a shower, too, but not knowing if he had
permission to do so. He felt absolutely disgusted and disappointed with himself
— he shouldn't have allowed his master to make him submit completely. He hadn't
even put up hardly any of a fight! He needed to find that fight in him again,
so that he could escape.
But how could he do it?
_____
One thing about his master surprised Harry: he seemed calmer, nicer, and more
collected after he abused him.
When he had gone back downstairs after he'd cleaned himself up, he found a
fully clothed and showered Louis sitting at the dining room table drinking some
hot tea. He lingered by the entrance to the room for a minute, extremely
hesitant to face his master again.
However, after a few minutes, Louis noticed him standing there quietly. He
turned around and eyed the slave for a second with pursed lips, making Harry
cower back slightly. Was Louis going to hurt him again?
“Come here, Harry,” the man ordered, motioning for him to sit by him with a
crook of his finger.
The slave obeyed, sitting by his master hesitantly. He was extremely unsure
about what was going to happen. Louis didn't make a move to chain his ankle to
the table like he normally did when he allowed him to sit on the furniture, but
instead sat and sipped his tea quietly until he spoke. “Would you like some
tea?” he whispered, eyeing Harry curiously.
Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at Louis’ kindness, but accepted,
choosing to take advantage of it. His master had never been outright kind to
him, so this behaviour was very, very strange, but it was also nice. Maybe
Louis was having second thoughts about his cruelty towards him? He knew there
was a very slim chance of that, but it wasn't impossible.
Louis smiled and prepared Harry his own cup, setting it down carefully in front
of him. “Be careful; it's hot,” he warned, as if he truly cared for Harry's
safety.
“Yes, Master,” Harry whispered, tentatively taking a sip of the warm drink.
Before now, Louis had never offered Harry the same food as him — he'd always
had mediocre food and drinks in comparison to his master’s.
The man simply smiled and hummed as he drank his tea, drumming his fingers
carefully on top of the table.
Harry bit the inside of his cheek, debating on whether or not he should ask his
master a question. Would he get mad, or would he keep his content mood?
Deciding to take advantage of his master’s nicer mood even more, Harry cleared
his throat. “Master, I know it's not my place to ask this, but why are you
being nicer to me? It's not that I don't like it, it's just—”
Louis cut him off with a hard look. “Quiet,” he scolded, going back to his
cruel attitude. “You're right — it isn't your place to ask me that. Now, sit
and enjoy your tea, before cleaning up,” he growled, slamming his cup down on
the table.
“Yes, Master,” Harry said, silently sitting and finishing his tea.
The master and slave sat together at the table and consumed their beverages,
neither boy saying anything, until Louis suddenly asked, “What do you miss
most? About your old life?” He studied Harry intently.
Harry sucked in a sharp breath and gulped. What was the reason for this
question? Figuring it was in his best interest to answer, he replied, “I miss
my family,” in a soft whisper.
Louis nodded in understanding. “I do, too,” he muttered under his breath, then
abruptly stood up. “Clean up, then meet me in the bedroom. It's time for bed.”
“Yes, Master,” Harry whispered, grabbing both their cups and heading to the
sink so he could wash them — deciding not to question Louis' muttered
response. 
“I can't wait to feel your warm lips wrapped around my flaccid dick tonight,”
Louis said with an evil glint in his eye, slapping Harry's bum before he exited
the kitchen — all traces of his nice mood gone.
Harry sighed, sniffles and tears coming back as he washed the cups quickly. His
day had been absolutely horrendous, and he was forever damaged mentally.
Trying to erase all negative thoughts from his mind, he dried his tears before
he followed his other instructions. He’d gotten used to the cockwarming, but it
still was terrible. He felt like he couldn't breathe through his mouth, and the
action forced him to sleep in an uncomfortable position.
Louis was already nearly asleep when he arrived in the bedroom, with his legs
open wide and limp cock splayed out in front of him. Harry slowly assumed his
awkward position and allowed the man to blindly and sleepily feed his dick into
his mouth, before the slave fell asleep completely, with tears running down his
cheeks.
And if Harry witnessed his Master crying as he fell asleep, and all throughout
the night, the older man didn't have to know.
 
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hi everyone!
     BEFORE YOU READ: there is come eating/swallowing and public
     humiliation in this chapter! Be warned and read the tags before you
     read! Thank you.
     Otherwise, enjoy!
Things seemed to go back to normal the next morning. Harry woke up with Louis’
flaccid cock in his mouth, and the man made him choke on his dick for a quick
blowie before they went downstairs for breakfast. The slave thought Louis
would've gotten enough use out of him by now — at least enough that he wouldn't
use him first thing in the morning — but that was not the case.
Harry ignored the dull ache in his bottom as he sat up and got off the bed, and
he also ignored the dry tear stains he noticed on Louis’ cheeks.
Like their usual routine, Harry waited patiently outside Louis’ bathroom while
the man took care of his morning needs, with his hands clasped behind his back
obediently. He couldn't help but wince with every move he made — the pain in
his bum was terrible, but he didn't dare to tell his master about it. The fact
that he had successfully put his slave in pain would probably satisfy him
instead of make him feel remorse for his actions.
Louis came out of the bathroom when he was ready to head downstairs and
smirked. “How’s your bum feel, little one?” he asked mockingly, tipping Harry's
chin up with his fingers.
Harry swallowed hard, wanting to crawl into a hole and die. With his master’s
question, he lost all hope of avoiding telling the man about his pain. Why did
Louis have to be so cruel?
“Answer me,” Louis commanded impatiently. “I shouldn't have to ask you more
than once.” He glared at Harry hard.
“It hurts, Master,” Harry relented in a soft whisper, biting his lip.
Louis hummed in satisfaction, just as Harry had expected he would do. “Turn
around,” he ordered.
The slave obeyed, lowering his head. He wasn't sure what the older man was
going to do now, but his question was answered when the man grabbed his cheeks
and spread them, making him squeak.
“Your hole is a bit red,” Louis observed, running a finger along the rim of it
lightly, making the slave jerk forward slightly.
Harry felt tears gathering in his eyes, partly from the pain he was
experiencing from all of Louis’ poking and prodding, and partly from this
entire experience. He thought he might have recognized a tiny bit of regret in
Louis’ voice, but that dissipated when he spun Harry around and slapped his
face lightly. “I don't want to hear any complaining about your bum today, you
understand?” he said harshly, pointing a stern finger at Harry's chest.
“Yes, Master,” Harry said without question, wanting to clutch his cheek to ease
the sting from the slap, but knowing that would anger Louis. It was sad to say
this, but Harry was growing used to all the slaps he received from his master —
they were becoming a part of his daily life now, and that was disappointing to
say the least.
Louis nodded firmly. “Good boy,” he said, then made to walk down the stairs.
Harry was expected to follow him, and if he didn't, he would be punished, as
he'd learned what Louis wanted him to do by now.
The slave sat in his usual seat with his master at the dining room table, then
leaned over and locked the ankle weight around his ankle. Louis had taught him
how to do so and explained that it was a slave’s job to lock themselves up —
not the master’s. Yet another degrading and insulting thing Louis drilled into
Harry's head.
It was completely silent in the room until Mr. Jensen placed master and slave’s
meals in front of them. Harry's eyes lit up in momentary excitement for a split
second when the butler approached, as he thought he'd be eating a luxury meal
like Louis always had, since the master had shared his tea with him the night
before. However, the butler placed a small plate that contained a slice of
buttered toast and a little glass of water in front of him, while he gave Louis
his usual buffet of food. Still, the slave still thanked the kind, older man
with a small nod and a smile, but the staffer looked away from the slave
awkwardly, as if he knew about Harry's punishment for talking to him.
And there went all Harry's chances of escape.
“Eat up,” Louis ordered once Mr. Jensen left, disliking Harry's glum looks
directed towards his food. “We’ve got to get going soon.”
Harry furrowed his brows and picked up his dry toast, munching on it a bit
before he spoke. “Where are we going?” he whispered, then realized his mistake.
He'd made this same mistake a million times now — why couldn't he remember not
to speak unless what Louis said required him to answer? “I mean — I’m sorry,
Master.” He hung his head, dreading whatever punishment the man was going to
dole out next.
Louis glared at him and purses his lips. He seemed to be deep in thought for a
few seconds, because he tilted his head to the side slightly before he let out
a humorless chuckle. “If you want to disobey me, that's fine with me,” he
began, “but you're going to have to pay the price. Give me your plate and
glass,” he demanded.
Harry's eyes widened in shock and confusion. “W–What?” Surely Louis didn't mean
he wasn't going to eat anymore, was he? That would be on the rather extreme
side of cruel, even for him.
“You mean to say, ‘Yes, Master,’” Louis corrected coldly. “Now, give me your
plate and glass.” He snapped his fingers and pointed towards said items, a hard
look on his face all the while.
“Yes, Master,” Harry whispered, slowly pushing his plate of toast and glass of
water across the table, towards Louis.
Louis pushed his own scrumptious looking food to the side and out of the way,
and instead focused on Harry's food. He grabbed his plate and glass and set
them on the ground in front of him, then looked at Harry. “Come here,” he
ordered, pointing to the spot in front of his chair.
Harry bit his lip and obeyed, a soft ‘Yes, Master’ escaping from his lips as he
did so. He unchained himself and stood in front of Louis, who still sat in his
seat at the table, until the man pushed him down to his knees in front of him
with a harsh push on the top of his head. The slave squeaked but didn't stand
up — it would cause him even more trouble. His knees were always achy in this
dreadful position, and his bum hurt even more whilst he kneeled, but he was in
trouble, he knew, so he couldn't very well do anything.
“Why are you here?” Louis asked angrily, hands tangling in Harry's curls and
tugging.
“Because I spoke when it was not necessary,” the boy replied monotonously,
hanging his head in resistance to his master’s rough movements in his hair.
Louis hummed, clearly unimpressed. “Mhm.” He released the boy’s chocolate curls
and leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his clothed dick. “You're
going to give me a handjob,” he told the boy firmly, then reached for his curls
again. “And you will not fight me on this, or resist, or struggle. You
understand?”
“Yes, Master,” Harry whimpered, the older man’s grip becoming quite strong and
causing his scalp to burn from the rough force. The prospect of giving his
master a handjob wasn't as nearly as awful as a blowjob, but he couldn't help
but wonder why Louis had chosen this instead. And why were his food and water
on the floor? There definitely couldn't be anything good coming out of this
predicament of his, he knew.
Louis let go of the slave’s hair once again and sat back even further in his
seat. “Unzip my pants,” he ordered, gesturing towards his crotch.
Harry obeyed, fumbling with the button and zipper on his master's jeans before
he was able to successfully slide them down the man’s muscular legs slowly. His
master wasn't wearing any boxers, so his dick immediately sprung free from its
confines. Harry was surprised to see that the man was already beginning to grow
slightly hard, with his dick slowly fattening up.
“Well?” Louis questioned the slave impatiently. “Don't just stare at it. Stroke
it; it's not going to hurt you,” he teased, grabbing Harry's hands and
directing them to rest on top of his rising cock.
“Yes, Master,” Harry said sadly, holding in his tears. Why did Louis see it fit
to tease and mock him whenever he wished? It made his entire stay with the man
much worse than it already was.
He didn't want to by any means, but the slave hesitantly reached his hand out
and stroked the man’s cock slowly, causing it to reach full hardness quickly.
Louis moaned softly, leaning his head back in pleasure. “Keep going,” he
murmured. “Go faster.”
Harry obeyed his master, directing his eyes downward all the while so he
wouldn't have to see for himself the vile activities his master was forcing him
to do. Instead of paying attention to his working hands and Louis’ moans and
groans, he closed his eyes and thought of his family. What were they doing
right now? Did they miss him? Were they trying to find him, even though he was
taken as a slave legally? There were so many questions he wanted answered but
couldn't.
“Fuck,” Louis moaned particularly loud, interrupting Harry's thoughts. The man
grabbed Harry's hands and shoved them off his cock, seemingly not wanting to
release all over the slave's hands. Instead, he directed the tip of his cock
towards Harry's plate, and jerked himself off rapidly until white spurts of
come exited his cock, landing on the toast.
Harry watched on with shock, tears falling down his cheeks when the man moved
onto the water and released into the liquid as well. Surely Louis wasn't going
to make him eat that still, was he? He was going to throw it away, right?
Louis caught his breath and tucked himself back into his jeans, panting a bit.
He turned and smirked at Harry, whose mouth was held open in disbelief and eyes
watery with tears. “Sit back down,” he ordered, pointing at Harry's seat.
Harry whimpered and obeyed, rechaining himself to the chair by the ankle and
waiting for Louis to do something. The man placed his plate and glass in front
of him again, making Harry turn his nose and mouth up in disgust. His food was
covered in semen, and his water was now a dark, thick, murky colour from the
come. It looked positively heinous, in his opinion.
“Eat up,” Louis said like he did earlier, smirking mischievously at the slave
from across the table.
The slave’s mouth fell open, the boy unable to believe his master's words. He
was going to make him eat his food still? And drink his water?
“I don't think I—” he began, but was cut off.
“I believe your speaking out of turn was what caused you to get in trouble in
the first place,” Louis commented sternly. “Now, shut your mouth and eat up. We
need to leave in a few minutes.”
Harry whimpered, sucking in an unbelievably sharp breath while he thought
through his options. If he disobeyed Louis, he'd most likely get punished even
more, and he didn't want that. It was definitely better, for the sake of his
not getting punished, to listen and obey.
Tentatively, Harry picked up a clean side of the toast and brought the cooked
bread to his mouth, the smell absolutely terrible. Before he took a bite, he
looked back up at Louis to make sure he was completely and utterly serious
about this, and he received an impatient nod, motioning for him to continue.
So, he put as much of the bread as he could into his mouth and bit it, so that
he didn't have to drag this out any longer. He'd successfully eaten about half
the piece of bread, since he'd already had a couple bites before his already
mediocre food had been contaminated.
The taste that assaulted his tastebuds was terrible — filled with salt and a
thick texture. He immediately hated it, and he also hated the satisfied look
Louis gave him due to his obedience.
“Good boy,” Louis praised, taking a bite of his own food — almost as if he was
doing so on purpose so as to taunt his slave. “Have a sip of your water, and
then we’ll be leaving.”
“Yes, Master.” Harry looked at the water and cringed. The glass of mixed
liquids looked terrifying, because he knew what was in there and that he would
be forced to consume it. Instead of wasting time, however, he quickly took a
sip of the contaminated water and swallowed it down as fast as possible, ready
to have this punishment behind him.
Louis stood up when he was finished. “Good boy. Did you learn from your
punishment?” he asked condescendingly, stroking Harry's cheek lightly.
Harry nodded, coughing from the aftertaste in his mouth. “Yes, Master,” he
said, reaching to undo the ankle chain when Louis indicated for him to do so.
“All right,” Louis began with a nod, grabbing Harry's leash from the hooks by
the front door — where he'd left it when he first brought Harry home. “I'm
going to be taking you out, to a party. There will be many masters at this
party with their slaves, and I'd like to show you off. You're to be obedient
and submissive during this event, and you are not to speak at all, unless I ask
you a question. Is that understood?” He attached the leash to the D-ring on
Harry's collar.
“Yes, Master,” Harry whispered, hanging his head. He was confused when Louis
opened the front door and led him to his car, because he wasn't offered any
time to get dressed. He supposed that was his life as a slave, now — sadly, no
clothing no public didn't matter when you were a slave and nothing more. He
just hoped he wasn't the only slave without clothes.
The ride to wherever they were going was a quiet one, with Louis playing the
radio lightly in the background. He had his leash gripped in his hand tightly
all throughout the ride, as if he thought Harry could somehow escape when the
doors and windows were locked.
He wished he could, but he knew it was inevitable that he was to stay with
Louis until death, or he was sold off.
“We're here,” Louis announced and shut the car off. “Be a good little slave in
here, yeah?”
“Yes, Master,” Harry whispered, bowing his head as the man led him inside by
his leash, shivering from the brisk air nipping at his bare body.
Inside, there were what looked to be hundreds of people, masters and slaves
alike. Most of the slaves were naked, which made Harry feel relieved for a
split second, until he really thought about what he was feeling relieved for.
He was relieved that others were in the same situation as he was, which was
quite sick, if he really thought about it.
Everything in the world seemed to be fucked up.
“Come on, Harry,” Louis coaxed, leading the boy over to the bar, where another
master and slave were sitting. The slave was wearing a collar, but the only
difference was she looked happy, compared to Harry, and she apparently had the
privilege of wearing clothing. Her master was smiling at her lovingly, and she
was doing the same at him.
Louis ordered a drink for himself and took a seat, allowing Harry to kneel
before him beside his stool, completely different from the couple next to them.
“How are you lot doing?” the man greeted said master and slave, but his
attention was clearly directed towards the master.
The other master smiled politely. “We’re doing just fine, isn't that right,
sweets?” he asked his slave nicely, pecking her cheek sweetly.
Harry bit his lip, eyeing the slave curiously. She looked perfectly happy with
her master, making him jealous. Why couldn't Louis just be nice to him? It was
obvious there did exist some kind masters, clearly from the couple with them.
“Yes, Sir,” she said with a giggle, leaning into the man for a cuddle.
The slave's eyebrows furrowed, as did Louis’. Louis had never allowed him to
address him as ‘sir.’ The girl’s clothing, happiness, and nice smile made him
extremely jealous. He wished he had that with Louis, or was better yet, free.
“You allow your slave to dress? And call you ‘sir?’” Louis asked incredulously,
taking a sip of his beer and rolling his eyes.
The other man looked confused. “Yes, I do. Will that be a problem?”
Louis nodded with an evil smirk. “Yes. You see, slaves aren't meant to be
happy. They're here to please us. Just watch and learn.” He looked down at
Harry and ordered, “Spread.”
His master had recently taught him a series of commands, most of them being
sexual. And this order certainly was very sexual, so Harry did not want to do
it in front of everyone else. That would be so humiliating! However, he
couldn't disobey, so he kept silent and got on his back, spreading his legs
open to expose himself.
“Good lad,” Louis praised and patted his hole, making Harry squeak. He was
positively mortified at his position, hating that hundreds of people could see
him this way. But when he looked up, the kind master had taken his slave away,
which made him breathe a sigh of momentary relief.
“Pussies,” Louis muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes again, then
snapped his fingers and tugged on his leash for him to stand back up.
Harry did so, bowing his head in submission once more. He watched Louis out of
his peripheral vision to see what they were going to do next, but Louis’ gaze
seemed focused on something certain ahead of him. Daring to look behind him,
the slave glanced behind himself and caught sight of a flash of blonde hair
that Louis seemed to see as well. “Shit,” the man muttered under his breath,
then tugged on Harry's leash and led him across the room quickly.
Confused, Harry was forced to follow, but was shocked when Louis grabbed the
running blonde girl’s arm harshly. She faced Louis, clearly out of breath, and
Harry briefly wondered why she was running so fast.
He didn't have much time to think about that, though, for a large grin took
over her face. “Louis!” she cried, diving in for a hug, but Louis pushed her
away roughly. “Louis?” she asked worriedly, then she noticed Harry, and
finally, she noticed Louis holding Harry's leash. “Louis, you have a slave?!”
she screeched, her features taking on a look of disgust and disappointment, and
Harry knew why — she was wearing a collar.
“Come with me,” Louis told her firmly, grabbing her collar and leading her out
of the building along with Harry.
End Notes
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