by Reis Asher
"These might be a bit large, but we'll go clothes shopping for you another day." The man looked down at his feet. "Please, cover yourself."
"Why did you buy me?" Avery blurted out, pulling the towel to cover his cock. He flinched like he expected a blow, then relaxed as one never came.
"Nobody wanted you. I know how that feels. I've been lonely since my wife died." The man shook his head. "That's no excuse for what I've done. My daughter Christina will kill me when she finds out. Maybe she'll help me figure out how to let you out of this contract you're bound to."
"Not unless you have a million dollars. The price of freedom is a slave's sale price times ten, or a million, whichever is greater."
"Oh." The man seemed to visibly deflate.
"If you want to be kind to me, Master, then keep me. Retain ownership. Pay your membership dues to the Circle and take care of me the best way you know how. I'll make myself useful to you. I'll be your companion. I'll help you when you're lonely. I'm good at pleasuring men. I like cock, unlike a lot of slaves. I was bi before…before I signed the contract and became nothing."
"What's your name? Who are you? Who were you before?" The man asked, following him into the bedroom and watching him with curious eyes as he dressed. "Why did you sign the contract?"
"I was—I am—Avery Tulano. My dad was the shipping magnate Adan Tulano. I grew up with everything I ever wanted. I was even the favorite son. It's hard to explain now, but it was a burden to me. I had nothing to shoot for. My life was meaningless. I had no desire to run the company. My younger brother Daniel had all the business acumen, but Dad overlooked him for me, every time. I wanted excitement. I wanted danger. I wanted to be out of Daniel's way. The Circle offered me all of that. I signed the contract without even thinking what might be out there."
The man wrinkled his nose in disgust. "How could you be so foolish?"
"I was twenty-one years old. Of course I'd heard rumors about what the Circle was really about, but the truth was, I was in spiritual pain. I wanted someone to tell me how to think, what to believe. I thought I'd probably get a ton of sex out of the deal too. It never occurred to me that I might lose my kidney in some third-world chop-shop. Or that the kinks of human beings literally have no limits at all."
"I don't know about you, Avery, but I need a drink. Care to join me?"
"May I…May I ask your name?"
"Conrad Fisher," the man said. "Ex-cop, as I said before. That was back in the day when things were simpler. Not that there wasn't human trafficking back then, but they didn't pretend they had consent from the parties involved. They didn't have the cops and the government in their pocket. Not that I have any right to be giving a sermon." He led Avery downstairs and slumped down on the couch, grabbing a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the coffee table and pouring the amber liquid into a dirty, used glass. He downed it and poured himself another before grabbing a clean glass from the sideboard and filling it for Avery. He pushed Avery's glass across the table toward him.
"Please, take a seat," Conrad said. "You're making me nervous."
"Sorry, M—Conrad." Avery took the glass and perched himself on the edge of the recliner. The baggy red hoodie he was wearing was two sizes too big, but it almost felt like a security blanket wrapped around him. He huddled into it, clutching the glass, which he slowly raised to his lips. His mind screamed out at the taste, remembering so many times when he'd been plied with alcohol to be compliant and then passed around like an hors d'oeuvre. He almost dropped the glass, and placed it back on the table with trembling hands.
"I won't hurt you," Conrad whispered. "I may have been fucked up enough to buy you, and I know that's a crime, but I'm not going to let you come to harm. I don't get off on rape or violence."
"You're not going to keep me for free." Avery gestured around him. "Look at this place. You're barely stable financially. You can't afford to feed me and take care of my medical bills. You heard the auctioneer. I've got sexually transmitted infections and who knows what else? Not to mention the Circle dues. A Master has to pay his dues, and they're not cheap…"
"I took you on. You're my responsibility now."
"I don't want to be your pity case." Avery shook his head. "I've done terrible things for my Masters. Things I've locked away so deep I can't even think about them. All those things are going to surface sooner or later. I can't promise you I'm going to be good and law-abiding, because I barely even know who I am anymore."
"Regardless, I won't turn you back over to those…those monsters. I'm not going to let you be carved up for your organs or murdered in some sick porn movie."
"Why me?" Avery whispered. "Why did you save me? I'm nothing. I deserved what I got for being arrogant."
"Nobody deserves what you got, even if they tricked you into believing someone can consent to something like that…" Conrad brushed his hands through his feathery hair, and Avery idly wondered if it would be soft to the touch like it seemed. "I won't lie: I saved you because I saw past the dirt and the grime and I thought you were attractive. You called out to me." Conrad stood and walked over to the window, turning his back to Avery. "I'm no saint, Avery. Don't think I'm your white knight. My shining armor is tarnished. I was kicked out of the force. I took bribes to keep quiet about all kinds of corrupt government schemes."
"I thought that was par for the course these days."
"It is, but I was found out. The system may be openly crooked, but every now and then when the public comes knocking, they have to throw someone under the bus.."
"So what is this—atonement?" Avery asked.
"Hardly. I just don't have the balls to follow through on my attraction to you and lie to myself that such contact would be anything but rape." Conrad snorted and poured himself another whiskey. "You're not wrong, anyway. I am broke. I can't afford to keep you. I don't know what I'm going to do about that yet."
"So this is just a respite. Good to know." Avery buried his head in his hands.
"I'll sell the house if I have to. We can live in an apartment. When I think about the alternative, that seems like a small price to pay."
"Don't be ridiculous. Why would you do that for me?" Avery asked. "You just met me. You don't know anything about me."
"Because I think about them raping you. I think about them cutting you up and stealing your organs, and I feel sick. When I took those bribes, I thought all the stories were bullshit. Even the things Christina told me about her investigation…I dismissed them as mere conspiracy theories. I went to that auction expecting to see some people acting out their personal Master-slave kinks. Maybe some prostitution or human trafficking racket, but this is a whole different beast. This is organized. This is sicker than I could have imagined. When I saw the scars on your body…"
"Don't. Don't go there." Avery closed his eyes.
"Okay. I won't pry." Conrad released a long sigh. "I'll show you to your room. I can install a lock on the inside if you don't feel safe around me."
"Should I be afraid?" Avery asked.
"No…I don't know. I'm not going to force myself on you, but I'm prone to…lapses of judgement. I wanted to come up to the shower earlier. I know you would have bent over for me; I'd have taken you and convinced myself after the fact it was my right to do so. So if you want to feel safe, perhaps the lock is a good idea."
"I'll consider it." Avery let Conrad lead him upstairs. Conrad pointed to the back bedroom. "There are clean sheets on the bed and a comforter in the closet. Use whatever you need. Oh, and…I would like you to take the collar off. I don't know how, but if you need to do something, let me know."
"The collar never comes off." Avery fingered the plain steel band. He barely noticed it anymore. "It's how the Circle controls runaway slaves. It cannot be tampered with or removed, or it will dispense a fatal paralyzing agent into my veins."
"Christ. Well then, disregard what I said. I'm going to bed."
"Good night, Master—I mean, Conrad."
"Good night, Avery.
"
Conrad
Conrad lay awake, asking himself the same question for the millionth time that day: what the fuck am I doing? Every attempt he made at sleep was rebuffed with the same question, every turn in the bed seeming to make him more and more uncomfortable. His tired, unrestrained, drunk brain turned to dirty thoughts, and he imagined Avery beneath him, ass spread open. His breath quickened and he fondled his growing cock, bringing it to full attention.
He'd bought Avery with the express intention of fucking him senseless, so why couldn't he do it? Avery was a slave. He'd signed over his life because he was a spoiled little rich kid who thought he'd get to be a secret agent. He even liked cock, so what was the holdup?
Damn his conscience. Damn his pity. Damn the last shreds of humanity that he couldn't seem to extinguish. If he'd only known how to be a better Master, he never would have let his slave open his mouth and spill out his sob story. Now Avery thought he was some shining hero, a bastion of purity and goodness, when really he was covering for the fact that he was too scared to go down the hall and take what he'd paid for.
God damn but he'd never expected the price of a life to be two hundred dollars in cash. He'd paid prostitutes more than that for a quick hand-job with rubber gloves on. He'd gone to the auction because Christina had indicated she was too scared to go and see what it was all about. He'd never expected to walk away with a slave of his own. Now that Avery was cleaned up, he was extremely attractive. Conrad tried not to think of him in the cage, his cock hard as a rock, slightly rubbing against the bars for some friction.
Two hundred fucking dollars. Either the world was mad or he was. How could they not see how attractive Avery was? People lacked imagination, that was for certain.
Conrad pulled his cock out from beneath the sheets and exposed it to the cool evening air. He had his kinks, that was true. He'd once been busted for jerking off on a bus. Public sex in a park. His rap sheet was full of sordid little encounters. His wife Abby had rolled her eyes and gone back to shooting up. Being married to a cop had its perks for her as well as him, and they stayed out of jail. Until she OD'd in the laundry room and he found himself a widow at forty.
Conrad forced his mind to think of more pleasant things as his cock wilted a little. Avery had said he was willing, hadn't he? He'd offered companionship. He'd said he liked cock. But that little alarm bell in the back of his head kept sounding. As long as Avery wore that collar around his neck, there was no way Conrad could know whether he was saying yes, or saying yes and meaning no. And that was the deal-breaker. His cock flopped onto his leg and he growled in frustration. Maybe if he could cum he might actually get some sleep, but his erection was determined to make it difficult when his mind kept turning to dark thoughts.
He got out of bed and paced. His hard-on begged him to go to Avery's room. Maybe they could do something mild, like jerk each other off. It didn't have to be full-blown sex. Excuses hurled themselves around him, and he found his feet walking on their own, taking him to the forbidden room that he'd declared off limits. He opened the door a crack and then swung it all the way open.
Avery stirred. "I was wondering when you'd come." No disappointment was evident in his voice; it was nothing more than a statement of fact.
"I told you that we need to put a lock on this door," Conrad whispered. "You're not safe from me, Avery."
"Maybe I don't want to be safe. Safety might just break me. I'm not sure I'm capable of loving kisses and tender touches." Avery sat up, pushing the comforter aside to reveal his erection.
"Fuck," Conrad breathed. "Please, Avery. Don't tease me."
"I'm not teasing," Avery said. "I know why you bought me, no matter what bullshit line you're feeding yourself. I saw through you the moment you asked me if I wanted a lock."
Conrad sat down on the edge of Avery's bed, his body drawing nearer to Avery even as his mind told him to back away. "I'm sorry. You can't consent. Not with that collar around your neck. They'll kill you if you say no."
"Only if you file a complaint," Avery explained.
"How do you know I won't?"
Avery shrugged. "The thought of my death fucked with you. I could tell."
Conrad nodded. "I suppose you learn to get a good read on people in your line of work."
"My life depends on it sometimes."
Conrad clasped his hands in his lap, trying to override his urges long enough to gather his thoughts. "I wasn't lying when I said I don't do force or violence. I need you to understand that."
"I know. You're the strangest Master I've ever had." Avery sat up and leaned against the wall with a bemused smile on his face.
"Please tell me to leave," Conrad pleaded. "Tell me to go away."
Avery shrugged again. "What's the point? You'll keep coming back until you convince yourself it's okay."
Conrad buried his head in his hands, pulling at his hair, torn between the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. "Tell me it's not, that you hate me, that this is rape. Tell me that I'm a repulsive old man who disgusts you."
"I can't do that," Avery's voice quivered slightly as he said it.
"You're scared. That's good enough for me to say no." Conrad let out a deep sigh and stood up. "I told you I wasn't your white knight." He turned his back on Avery and jerked in surprise when Avery's cold fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him closer.
"Don't go." Avery's plea sounded so sincere that Conrad wanted to believe it with every inch of his soul, but Avery's fearful voice from a moment ago undermined his faith that this was true consent. Conrad wrenched his hand away. His cock twitched and he bit his lip, the pain bringing him back to his senses.
"I don't hate you. I don't find you unattractive, either," Avery said. "Turn around and look at me."
Conrad turned reluctantly, wondering if he'd lose his resolve when he saw beautiful Avery laid out on the bed. "I'm shameful, Avery. I want you."
"I can see that." A flicker of a smile crossed Avery's lips. "I've never met a man like you. I half-wonder if this is some kind of humiliation kink on your part. Maybe you love the shame."
"No. I'm just a weak man," Conrad admitted.
"Far from it, I'd say. Most men would have plowed me without a second thought. I'm a slave. I have no rights. I signed up for this, remember? It's not rape. This is what I do." Avery lay back and took his cock in hand, slowly touching himself. "If you can't bring yourself to touch me, then perhaps you'd like to watch?"
"Fuck. Don't, Avery. For the love of God. You don't know how close I am to begging you to suck my cock. I know you would, and you wouldn't complain. You might even find it slightly pleasant if you're telling the truth. But that doesn't make it right. I have the power of life and death over you, whether I want it or not. It's something I'd never use, but as long as it's there, I can never be sure if you want this or not." Conrad squeezed his eyes shut, banishing the object of his temptation from his sight. "I'm leaving. Right now. In the morning, I'll fit this door and all the windows with locks and give you the only key. You'll never have to fear me again. I'm so, so sorry." Conrad almost ran from the room, closing the door. He rushed back to his own room and closed that door too, needing to put as much space between him and Avery as possible. He buried his face in the pillow, half-wishing he could suffocate himself, so he didn't have to look at himself in the mirror anymore. His erection pressed into the mattress and he humped it, loving the friction the sheets created against his cock. He rolled over and took himself in hand, jerking himself furiously until he came all over himself.
Spent and exhausted, sleep claimed him with its welcoming shroud of darkness and oblivion.
Avery
Avery jerked awake and looked at the digital alarm clock next to his bed. It was three in the morning. He pulled the blankets underneath his chin, breathing heavily as he realized his nightmare was only an illusion. He was here, in Conrad's house. He was safe, for as long as Conrad tolerated his presence.
Something had to br
eak. Someone as volatile and broken as Conrad wasn't cut out to be a Master. Either Conrad would fuck him and destroy himself from the guilt, or Avery's presence would frustrate him so much Conrad would be eager to see the back of him. Regardless, the tension between them was dangerous, even if Conrad seemed to harbor no violent or cruel thoughts towards him. Anything that would end his ownership of Avery was a problem. If he went back to the slave auction, it'd be death for sure next time. At two-hundred, it was a wonder the snuff pornographers hadn't picked him up. Maybe the only reason he'd been spared was that his face might be recognized. His father had the money to cause a huge incident if he discovered Avery was still alive. The Circle's clients had a vested interest in protecting the business that ensured their bottom line.
But that grace period wouldn't last forever. He was already almost unrecognizable as the twenty-one year old who had signed the contract; his short black hair was thin, and his hairline was receding. He was skinny and frail, with a pot belly from poor nourishment, and the scars and lines on his face aged him beyond his years. His father wouldn't distinguish him from a beggar on the street if they passed each other by. And there were other fates that didn't involve his face: being carved to pieces in the organ house, being worked to death in the mines, being forced to strap on a bomb and blow himself up for religious fundamentalists…The stories other slaves told him scared him more than any handler or Master ever could.
He was going to fuck Conrad, one way or another, and he would be sold on. He swallowed the fact like a bitter pill. To expect anything else would be to destroy himself when the inevitable finally came to pass. What else could he expect? Conrad wasn't going to fall in love with him and save him from his fate. Masters didn't love their slaves. Masters used and abused their pets until they lost interest. Conrad might lack teeth, but his guilt would destroy any hope of Avery staying in the end.
For the millionth time, he wished he could reach back through time and break his own hand before it could ever sign the contract with the Circle.