Break the Chains

by Reis Asher

  A bell rang, and the host descended the central staircase. Everyone paused their activities, the talking and moaning falling quiet, with all eyes falling on the host.

  "It's good to see you, my friends," the Master said. "I'm glad to see you are all enjoying a warm-up session before the banquet and our main event of the evening." His eyes seemed to fix on Conrad, and Conrad stared back, desperate not to look away. Relief washed over him as the Master's eyes moved on.

  The Master finished his speech, and the bell rang again. The orgy continued in full earnest. Conrad watched as slaves were passed around, to please their Masters and others at their behest. The sight wouldn't have mattered to Conrad, if it weren't for the collars. Abby had liked the wild side, and Conrad had shared her with clients a few times, at her request.

  This was different. There was no consent here, no asking. Just taking. The fact that so many of the slaves had been conditioned to accept it didn't make it any easier to bear.

  Conrad felt a tightness on his leash, and realized he'd pulled Avery entirely too close. He let off, murmuring an apology he hoped Avery could hear. He wandered through the house, hoping they might find a room that was out of earshot so that he could take a moment to compose himself. A cleaning closet lay open and he pressed them both into it, closing and locking the door behind them. The darkness was comforting, wrapping itself around him like a cloak.

  "I just want to stay here until the party's over," he whispered into Avery's ear.

  "It's not easy to be here," Avery admitted. "Too many bad memories."

  "I'm sorry," Conrad whispered into the small of Avery's ear. He followed up with a kiss, and their mouths found each other in the dark, their kiss loving and warm, as opposed to the raw sex going on outside. "We can leave if you want."

  "No. Not yet. I have to admit, I'm curious what this 'main event' is. Usually Circle parties are just this—orgies of indulgence. Everyone fucks, eats and drinks until they're tired and then they either fall asleep on the floor or go home."

  "I don't like the sound of it," Conrad admitted. "Not after the things you've told me."

  A bell rang. Conrad shuddered.

  "The dinner bell," Avery explained. "Time to go."

  Conrad opened the closet door and led Avery out. The Masters led their slaves to a great dining hall, where long tables were lined up like they were at a wedding. Avery climbed under the table with the other slaves. Conrad nearly bolted out of his seat when he bit down on a bread roll and felt his fly being unzipped. Warm heat engulfed his cock and he gasped. Avery's familiar motions worked his dick and he grew rock hard despite their situation. It was the public nature of it, he realized. His inner exhibitionist loved the idea of getting his cock sucked in public. Others were clearly enjoying their slaves in the same way, from the looks on their faces. Conrad found it hard to concentrate on his meal while Avery's mouth caressed him, and guilt flooded his veins. Would he really be doing this if it wasn't expected by the situation? He'd shower Avery with a thousand apologies when they were home.

  His discomfort kept Avery sucking him off for ages, and when he finally came, he was almost glad to be done. He stroked Avery's hair under the table, curling his fingers in the soft black silk, massaging Avery's scalp where his tenderness wouldn't be noticed by anyone else.

  The bell rang again as Avery zipped him up. The Master stood, a smug smile crossing his face. "It's the moment you've all been waiting for, my friends. The real reason we keep this little house." A few audience members, obviously in the know, clapped, while the others waited with bated breath. "But for those of you who don't know, you're about to learn why we call this house a 'retirement home'. Over the year, the Circle and other Masters send me slaves considered unsaleable. I treat them well, of course—it provides a good front for the Circle to some of its less trusted members and curious outsiders." Conrad could swear the Master was looking at him, and his skin crawled. "But you don't really think we're going to keep those slaves, do you? All they do is drain the coffers. That's why, once a year, we have this exclusive party. The slaves have been released into the grounds. In the next room you'll find all the weapons you need. The one who brings back the most heads will take home this exclusive sports car and the pick of any of my real slaves." The Master grinned, and a curtain was pulled back, revealing an expensive modded import vehicle. "New for this year, we have a stipulation—anyone who brings back no heads will have to endure a penalty. Don't think you're leaving this party early, either—the grounds have been sealed with an electric fence. We don't want any of the prey getting out."

  Excited murmuring broke out throughout the hall. The food that Conrad had just eaten threatened to come back up. His palms were clammy with sweat and he hid the fact they were trembling by stuffing them under the table. Avery squeezed his leg, and he wasn't sure in that moment who was comforting who.

  "Let the hunt begin!" The Master declared. A slave bashed on a gong, and excited party-goers jumped up from their seats, dragging their slaves to the armory to get first pick of the weapons. Conrad sat, fixed to his seat by a combination of terror and horror. He wasn't sure if his legs would support him even if he did attempt to stand. Avery pulled on his pant leg urgently, and Conrad realized it would be suspect for him to stay seated. But he couldn't actually participate. There was no question about that. He wasn't going to take a human life. Any penalty had to be better than that.

  He drew in a deep breath and stood up. Avery followed him to the armory, where the bulk of the party-goers had already picked their weapons and headed through the double doors to the grounds.

  "Pick something," Avery hissed. "Don't think. Just do." The sound of distant gunfire followed by whooping met Conrad's ears. If he could hunt those people, maybe he would have had less of a problem with the whole thing, but the thought of killing unarmed slaves made him sick to his stomach. He picked up a handgun, wanting something he was familiar with, and reluctantly led Avery outside.

  Carnage greeted him. A woman in a red dress held up the severed head of an old lady by the hair, clinging to a blood-soaked machete in her other hand. A man shot at a slave who was running away, gunning him down in cold blood. Conrad stayed close to the edge of the building and pulled Avery into an alcove, as if they were the ones being hunted.

  "I'm so sorry," Avery said. "I never thought it would be like this. I thought it would just be a sex party, maybe with some hardcore shit, but not—"

  "Shh." Conrad shook his head. "We have to find a way out of here. I'm not playing his games. I won't kill."

  "Yes," Avery said. "You will. There's no way out, and you never want to take a forfeit in the world of the Circle, Conrad, I swear to you."

  "Can they take your contract?" Conrad asked.

  "No. But they could do just about anything else. They want to humiliate you, Conrad. The joke's on you."

  "We fell right into their trap." Conrad sighed. "Sick bastards. How could anyone—"

  "Don't think about that right now," Avery warned. "Do you trust me, Conrad? This is my world. I've lived this long because I'm good at survival. You need to believe me when I say there's no time for your conscience. You have to trick your mind. Tell yourself it's just a game, or that you're someone else, or that it's not real, but you have to do it. It's the only way we're going to get through this."

  Conrad seized Avery's shoulders. "I can't do it, Avery!"

  "You've killed before," Avery insisted. "You can do it again."

  "The man was a child rapist who attacked my client's son. My client had video evidence and I was glad to put that fucker down!" Conrad closed his eyes. "I'm too soft-hearted. I could never kill just for money. I couldn't buy you just to fuck you. I can't gun down unarmed people and sever their heads." Conrad leaned back against the cold stone. "Let them humiliate me. They can fucking take turns with me if that's what they want."

  "What do you stand to gain?" Avery asked. "If you don't kill them, someone else will." He snatched the gun from Conrad's hand.
"I'll take care of it for you, then. You can thank me later."

  "No." Conrad snatched the gun back. He emptied the clip from the gun, kicking it away before tucking the empty pistol into his waistband. The clip fell into a creek with a splash, and Conrad breathed a sigh of relief. "I won't make a killer out of you either."

  "I'm already a killer, remember? Or did you block out that fact too? Look around you, Conrad. This is the world of the Circle. This is the living hell I refuse to go back to. Now do you understand why I'd rather die at your hands?"

  Conrad pulled Avery close and sank down to the ground. "We're just gonna wait it out and take the penalty. I'm still your Master. I won't let them touch you." He could feel the tremble in Avery's body and pulled him closer, covering his ears with his hands. The screams died away into the distance, though the occasional round of gunfire could still be heard. Eventually, that stopped as well, and a loud gong signaling the end of the event sounded.

  "We should go inside," Avery said.

  "Maybe they'll just forget about us and we'll be able to slip out when everyone leaves," Conrad suggested.

  "If only things were that simple. No, the Master invited you here to make you squirm. He won't deprive himself of his pleasure, even if he has to send men to come get you. Let's not make this harder than it has to be." Avery stood and offered his leash. Conrad took it, and they walked across the killing fields. They stepped over discarded, headless bodies, and Conrad fought the urge to take a loaded gun and give these Circle bastards everything they had coming to them. But he'd die, and Avery—

  He stilled his thoughts. Avery was right. The only way out was through. If he let his fear consume him, the Master would only enjoy himself more. They straggled along until they reached the end of the line to go inside. Each party-goer threw their severed heads into a pit and received an equal number of tokens in return. Conrad looked at the door, focusing on the room within so he didn't have to see the blank stares of the people he'd met at the house earlier that week. The man with one arm. The woman who had served drinks. All of them had died in the most horrific manner, granted no dignity even in death.

  The thought of that happening to Avery was enough to make Conrad realize that killing him might be an act of mercy, after all. At least he would make it as painless as possible. He could cradle Avery in his arms, and make sure he felt no fear as he went on ahead into the great unknown. Then he could follow. Whatever happened after that, no monster masquerading as a man could touch them.

  They reached the front of the line, and Conrad received a black token. He threw his empty handgun down into the pile and steeled himself for the penalty. He watched in a daze as the Master took the stage and handed the keys to the sports car to a young blonde woman in her twenties. She kicked the male slave at her feet with her stiletto heel, causing a huge gash to open on his forehead as she climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door. The runners-up received lavish prizes as well.

  Conrad thought that maybe living was overrated after all, when he really looked at it. His optimism was stripped away by looking directly into the void. That Avery had survived this hell every day made him want to destroy the world in his honor.

  All eyes turned to them, and Conrad's focus sharpened. His heart hammered in his chest, his body flooded with adrenaline. The Master stepped down from the stage and Conrad looked him in the eye. He wasn't going to be cowed or afraid. The task before him was simple: either he'd endure it, or he'd die rather than face it.

  The Master pulled a handgun from his belt and pointed it at Avery. Conrad stepped in front of him, determined to shield the man he'd promised to protect.

  The Master only laughed. The crowd, assembled in a great circle around them, laughed too. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

  "Don't worry, Mr. Fisher, I'm not going to hurt your pet. The Circle does have rules, and one of those rules is that you're not allowed to damage another person's property without their permission."

  A sick sense of relief washed over Conrad. Whatever they did to him, he could endure it. As long as Avery was safe.

  Having a gun trained on him was still not an easy thing to bear. Years as a cop in a grim city hadn't made it any easier. This was no common criminal backed into a corner. The Master was the kind of villain that every cop feared: a man above the law, a man who could buy as many crooked cops and officials as he needed to get the justice he wanted.

  "If you're going to do something, get on with it," Conrad snapped. He kept his eyes on the Master's. His fear was laid bare, but there was no way to hide it. They never should have come here. But Avery was right: Conrad would have buried his head in the sand if he'd not seen this horror with his own eyes.

  "Mr. Fisher here is my special guest tonight. He's having a few problems with his dues. Thought he might find a special place for his two-hundred dollar slave here. Changed your mind about that now, have we?" The Master circled, upping the theatrics. "He was hoping that I'd foot the bill for his HIV-positive slave's anti-retroviral drugs." He shook his head, laughing all the while. "Did it never occur to you why your slave was two hundred bucks? Because he's been the fuck-hole for half this community. Why, he's even been on my cock a few times." Laughter and murmuring filled the room as many in the crowd agreed that yes, they'd fucked Avery. Conrad had to fight the murderous rage that made him want to kill the lot of them. Avery hung his head in shame, and that only made it worse. But maybe the Master had gotten what he wanted in humiliating them.

  The Master smirked. "Not that you'd care—I hear that you were married to a hooker.".

  Or maybe this was far from over.

  Conrad shrugged. He'd never been ashamed of Abby's profession and he wasn't going to start now. "What's your point? Just get on with it."

  "You're right, this is starting to get boring. I'm done toying with you. It's time for your forfeit, Mr. Fisher. Given your record, I'm not sure if I'm punishing you or just pushing you towards the inevitable, but I won't have it be said that I'm inhumane. After all, you're not a slave—you're a human being. You have rights. So I'll simply give you what you want, and you can decide how you want to deal with it later. Drumroll, please!"

  A canned drumroll sounded, and Conrad fought the urge to vomit on the Master's shoes.

  "You're going to be fucked by your slave—bareback—in front of all of us. It's like a game of Russian roulette, only in public. Will he or won't he infect you? I'm almost too kind, given your rap for public indecency. You're going to enjoy this more than you should."

  Conrad's sickening moment of almost-triumph faded abruptly as he remembered he'd forgotten to take his meds before coming here. In the rush to get ready, the pill organizer had remained on the kitchen table next to Avery's. He cursed himself as Avery backed away, his face pale and sweaty.

  "No!" Avery yelled. "I won't do it!" Two bouncers grabbed him by the arms and dragged him back into the center of the circle. He spat at the Master, who wiped it from his robe with a murderous look.

  The Master's eyes held a dangerous gleam. "You filthy little slave! Who gave you permission to speak?"

  "Stay away from him!" Conrad yelled. "Avery, it's all right. He's not wrong when he says I've wanted you to fuck me. It's all I've been able to think about since I met you."

  "But!" Avery protested.

  "Look around you. Resist and we both die. Now do as I command, Ave." Conrad hated the Master, despised him for stealing a moment that should have been precious and turning it into something ugly for his entertainment. He reached for Avery's zipper and slowly pulled it down, revealing Avery's soft cock to the crowd. He was so beautiful that Conrad was certain in any other crowd he'd have relished showing off his lover's body with pride, but this crowd with their ugly hearts didn't appreciate lovely things.

  Avery's eyes were full of fear. "I can't."

  "Having a little performance anxiety? Don't worry, I've got just the thing." The Master clicked his fingers and a slave stepped forward with a needle. He inj
ected Avery's cock and he quickened against his will, growing hard within moments as Conrad watched him with hungry eyes.

  "Forgive me," Conrad whispered into Avery's ear. He hated himself for getting hard. Maybe he liked risky a little too much, or the thrill of having an audience was making him stir. Perhaps his blue balls over Avery had gone on a little too long. He hadn't wanted their first time to be anything like this, but enjoying it might leave a bad taste in the Master's mouth at least.

  He'd pick up the pieces of Avery later, and pray that Avery would be able to find forgiveness in his heart.

  Conrad took a bottle of lubricant from the Master's hands and slicked Avery's cock, hard and trapped between them as they stood before the crowd. The fear in his eyes had been replaced by lust, and Conrad relaxed slightly. He pressed the bottle into Avery's hands, and kissed him fiercely. Let them see that he loved Avery. Let them bear witness to something uncomfortably intimate when they just wanted to be party to a quick, horrifying fuck. Maybe some of them would think about what they were doing, but probably not. Still, he wasn't going to let this be a punishment. He'd wanted Avery from the start, and an audience of monsters wasn't going to change that.

  Conrad loosened his tie and tore it off, tossing aside his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. He tossed his clothes unceremoniously into a pile before sliding Avery's jeans down and pulling his t-shirt over his head. He planted kisses on Avery's neck, detecting his racing pulse beneath his lips.

  "Get on with it!" The Master gestured with his gun, and Conrad looked for a place to fuck. He saw a cherry-red couch in front of the stage and turned it around to face the crowd before bending over the arm.

  The crowd moved back, a sick glee painted on the faces of the Circle elite as Conrad took the submissive position, parting his legs for Avery. He didn't care about things like that, but they did, their entire lives a sick game where they bought lives in order to feel dominant.

  Avery probed his hole with a slick finger and Conrad gasped. He followed with another, stretching Conrad with urgency. Conrad grabbed a gaudy red and gold throw pillow, clutching it and closing his eyes for a moment to savor the pleasurable burn of Avery's fingers inside him.