Break the Chains

by Reis Asher

Avery slipped from Conrad's arms and unsteadily walked to the edge of the porch. He sat down, dangling his legs out in the rain.

  "Before I was a slave, I fucked a lot. I used to give it, take it, whatever my hookups wanted. Then I signed my life away and it was more of the same. I liked it hot. Dangerous. If things got too intimate, I called it off. I thought love was for suckers, and making love was for virgin teenagers…" Avery trailed off. He put his hand out into the rain and caught droplets on his palm as Conrad listened, transfixed. "Maybe I was just afraid of intimacy. Being with you frightens me, but not in the way a bad hookup or vicious Master did. I think that if I fall too deeply into you, you'll end up letting me down."

  "I probably will," Conrad confessed. "I've only ever been good at failing others. I fall in love with broken people not because I want to help them, but because I want to be needed. It's the same thing that motivates me to whip my dick out on a bus. I love being the center of attention, the object of lust and desire more than I love the eventual orgasm that comes after."

  "Have you ever made love? What's it like?" Avery asked.

  Conrad thought back through the years, wiping the cobwebs from the picture album of his mind, back to when things had been good with Abby, in those lucid moments where she'd weaned off heroin for a while. The doctors had told her she would probably seek endorphin highs in other ways, and she had, often waking him up in the middle of the night. They'd whispered sweet nothings like newlyweds, coming together in the half-light, making promises they'd never keep but meaning every word. They'd shared everything—secrets, kinks, hopes, fears, and accepted one another as they were, not some grand fantasy of what they might have been if they'd had money or fame. He'd never been close to anybody else like that, had kept them all at bay until Avery had slipped under his skin.

  "It's like being truly naked. Like letting somebody see every part of you while you fulfill their needs. It's vulnerability and trust, of letting yourself be truly open to someone else and to yourself." Conrad sat down beside Avery. "Is that what you want?"

  "I think maybe we already did it," Avery said. "I was scared as hell but when I looked into your eyes, I saw so much there. Your need, your desire…but something else too. Trust. Love. I felt like you would carry me through anything."

  "Why do you think the Master was so angry? He wanted to destroy us, but instead we forced that crowd to watch something they'll never be brave enough to share with anyone."

  "The Master will want revenge, and he has the Circle behind him. Our time together might be shorter than you realize. They could terminate your membership. It's been done."

  "If our time together is limited, then you'd best answer my question," Conrad said.

  "I want to stay with you forever," Avery said. "That's my wish."

  "If I could fulfill that wish, I would," Conrad whispered. "Avery, I want that more than anything. But I don't have that power."

  "I know. But you asked." Avery looked down at his hands, folded in his lap.

  "I figured you'd rather have your freedom, if you could have one impossible dream."

  "I'm not sure I'd know what to do with it, anymore. I mean—yes, I'd love to get rid of this collar. More than that, I'd love to have a say in my own life. To be able to choose to stay here and not have to fear being taken away. But as far as going out into the world—I've lost my taste for it. I'm not sure I'd know what to do if I had to get a job and live a normal life. I don't think I could."

  "You could. It would take time, but you could do it. You just haven't been given the chance."

  "Then yeah, I guess I wish I could be free." Avery scoffed. "Not like it's going to happen. Not unless you have the million dollars the Circle would want to buy out my contract."

  "If I did, you could be sure I'd spend it on you," Conrad said.

  "You're going to give me diabetes, Conrad Fisher."

  Conrad bit his lip on the thousand gallows jokes that popped into his mind and forced a smile instead. "So, a doable wish. Something within my power that doesn't involve robbing Fort Knox."

  Avery bit his lip. "I'd like a perfect day with you. Stay in, watch a movie together, get hot and heavy on the couch."

  "Netflix and chill?"

  "Wow, I was using that expression before I signed my contract. You're showing your age, Conrad."

  "I guess I am." Conrad self-consciously tugged at a strand of grey hair. "If we'd lived normal lives, I don't suppose you ever would have given me a second glance if we passed in the street."

  "That would have been my loss," Avery said. "Maybe it's me being older and wiser, but experience has taught me that typical hunks are often the biggest assholes."

  "Oh, there are plenty of fat, balding businessmen in the Circle from what I've seen. As for you, you're the hottest twink I've laid eyes on in a long time. Way out of my league. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're fucking gorgeous." Conrad poked Avery in the arm. "Okay then: movie, takeout, all your choice. You'd better start looking. A lot of movies came out since you joined the Circle."

  Avery

  The movie he picked was ultimately terrible, and the takeout sucked, but Avery felt a warm glow spread through his bones as he snuggled up beside Conrad on the couch. For a moment, he forgot everything—the years spent as a slave, the horrors he'd witnessed, the things he'd done—and simply became Avery.

  It was all he'd ever wanted, a moment of normalcy before the end, and Conrad had done everything possible to humor him, keeping the heavy subjects out of conversation. They'd talked about interests, about their families as if Avery's information wasn't eight years out of date. He could almost believe there wasn't a huge gap in his life filled with torture and pain, a void in which he'd been allowed to own nothing, think nothing, and do nothing that wasn't at his Master's whims.

  Almost. There was a tension in the air between them that he didn't dare to indulge, fearing a damn it all to hell attitude from both of them and a repeat of last night. He wanted to forget about his illness and do the things that normal couples did, to fuck without the thought of grim consequences, but circumstances were what they were, and they would always have limits.

  When Conrad pressed him into the couch, kissing him with the heat of a thousand suns, it was all he could do not to let all thoughts slip away and just go where the spirit moved him. There was a wish he'd not articulated to Conrad, because Avery knew he'd say 'yes', and yes was a reckless thing to say, as small as the odds were of Conrad contracting HIV from penetrative sex. He'd fantasized about having Conrad fuck him for so long, as if it might erase all the times he'd been used as a dumpster for other men's seed. But asking was too much. He knew Conrad too well to know he'd never say 'no', not to a wish of his.

  "Avery, what is it? What's wrong?"

  But damn, if Conrad wasn't a mind reader when it came to him.

  "It's nothing," Avery lied. Conrad pinned him down and stared deep into his eyes. Avery felt exposed, as though his eyes could penetrate his very soul. "There are things I can't ask, so just leave it be."

  "You can ask anything," Conrad said, his expression serious. "I thought you trusted me."

  "You're up for anything, sometimes. It scares me. Of course I trust you, but you told me you'd do anything for me today. Well, there are some things you should refuse, so I'm better off not asking."

  "I'm a detective. I'll figure out a way around your riddles if I have to, but I'd rather you just ask. I can say no."

  "I wish you would fuck me bareback. I want you to come inside me. There. Now you know why I can't ask you." Avery buried his face in the couch cushions, the heat rising to his cheeks. He'd never felt embarrassed about sex before, but this was Conrad, not some anonymous fuck he'd never have to look at in the morning. There were complications. He was asking Conrad to take an unacceptable risk to his health and well-being.

  "God, I thought you'd never ask." Conrad's voice grew husky and breathless, his erection pressing into Avery's leg. "I've wanted to for so long, but I
could never ask. Not after what you've been through. Especially not after last night."

  "You're okay with the risks?"

  "If last night doesn't kill me, I'm not worried about this. I've got enough drugs in my system to kill a bear. There's probably no better time. Besides, at this point I'm thinking we're probably not going to get out of this mess with our lives."

  "Probably not." Avery's cheeks drained. He lifted his hand and curled his fingers in Conrad's salt and pepper hair. He traced patterns across Conrad's weathered face with his fingertips, following the wrinkles and lines as if he could commit them to memory.

  "I love you," Avery blurted out. "I don't think I've ever said that and meant it, until you." He yielded as Conrad claimed his lips, silencing him with a kiss as he slid hands up Avery's shirt and over his scars. He lifted Avery's shirt, exposing his battered body to the light. Avery gasped as Conrad covered him in kisses, giving each wicked scar a piece of his loving attention. Avery smiled. Maybe he'd be able to look in the mirror now and see Conrad when he looked at his scars, instead of every wicked deed done to his body over the years.

  "You're so beautiful," Conrad said. "So fucking hot. I can't believe you're letting me fuck you."

  Letting me. The words rolled over his skin, flowing into his ears and through his body. Garth had been right: Conrad had never seen him as a slave. He'd always been the one to ask permission and beg for forgiveness, as if Avery was the Master and Conrad the slave.

  It was such a huge gift to have power back in his life that he fought back tears. He didn't want to cry. Not now, not when Conrad had given himself over so completely. Avery sat up, helping Conrad strip him down, eager to remove Conrad's clothes. Soon, discarded articles of clothing littered the floor and they lay skin to skin on the couch.

  The intimacy was so thick it felt like a presence in the room, swirling around and through them. Their kisses slowed, their cocks rubbed together, their bodies fitting like they'd been born to lay like this. Conrad's hand held them together, jerking them both off slowly, his breaths loud and labored as they both drew pleasure from his touch.

  "Upstairs," Avery hissed. "I won't last like this."

  They stood, Avery lamenting the loss of having Conrad so close. They climbed the stairs, eschewing Avery's room in favor of Conrad's much larger king size bed. Conrad picked him up and carried him over the threshold, like they were newlyweds, equal and beloved in the eyes of the law. Conrad lay him down on the satin sheets like he was so fragile he might break, and Avery was so vulnerable he feared he might.

  "I need you," he whispered. "Please, Conrad."

  Conrad smiled, that wise smile that indicated he knew a thousand truths that Avery did not. He fumbled in his bedside drawer, eventually coming up with a bottle of lube. He spread it across his fingers, fumbling like he might drop the bottle, a slight tremble in his fingers.

  Conrad's finger probed him, and Avery arched his back, a moan escaping his lips. His cock was hard as a rock, resting on his belly like he'd had a shot, but this was all him. Conrad knew how to drive him wild, and was taking his time preparing him, reveling in the foreplay.

  Another finger joined the first, and Avery bit his lip as Conrad took his cock in his mouth. He had to think of something unpleasant for a second to keep himself from coming too soon. Conrad's eyes met his, begging him to look and be present in the moment. He smiled, wishing there were words to describe how Conrad made him feel.

  Conrad withdrew his fingers and let Avery's dick slip from his mouth. He slicked his own cock with the lube and took care to slather it generously over and into Avery's hole. Avery had never felt such concern from a lover before. Quick fucks in hotel rooms never really cared if it hurt, and Masters certainly didn't—if anything, they relished the pain a dry fuck could cause.

  Conrad kissed Avery's inner thighs, his breath tickling the hair on them. Perhaps sensing he'd teased enough, he positioned his cock at Avery's hole, and pressed the head slowly inside. Avery watched Conrad, coming undone as Conrad's thick cock filled him.

  "Oh, God," Conrad whispered. He stopped moving, taking long, deep breaths. "Can't come yet," he explained. Avery waited patiently, watching as Conrad returned to the task at hand, his eyes filled with awe and reverence as Conrad buried his cock to the balls and pulled out again, fucking him slowly.

  It was almost too much to bear—Conrad inside him, fucking him, loving him. He'd never mixed the two, and now he mourned that he hadn't when he'd had the chance as a free man. Conrad slowly moved in and out of him, moaning and gasping with every thrust. Avery's legs rested uselessly on Conrad's shoulders and he felt so open and exposed, so fulfilled, so right, as if he'd been made to take Conrad's cock and all other men had only been intruders.

  Conrad fucked him slowly, taking his cock in hand, watching his reactions. Learning what worked and what didn't, what Avery loved and what he hated. Wanting Avery's pleasure more than he wanted his own.

  No man had ever wanted that.

  But there was no going back. There was only the present, and Avery was determined to stay focused on it as their rhythm built to climax. Conrad grew more desperate, his thrusts more eager and needy, and Avery was getting off just hearing Conrad vocalize his pleasure. With a grunt and a cry, he came inside Avery, spilling his seed, staking his claim. Feeling Conrad's semen inside him, Avery fell over the edge, his seed spilling on his chest with a mighty cry. Conrad slipped out from inside him, and they fell together on the bed, panting and gasping for breath.

  Avery was his now, and he was Avery's. No matter what happened, they would always belong to one another.

  With that thought, the doorbell rang.

  Conrad

  "Ignore it," Conrad whispered. He pulled Avery close to him. His heightened instincts told him there was nothing good at the front door. The doorbell rang again, and he cursed the damn thing, swearing he would rip it out at the next opportunity.

  The doorbell was replaced by the pounding of fists.

  "They're not going to go away," Avery said. "One of us should answer it."

  "I'll go. Stay here," Conrad said. He pulled on a pair of old pants that lay on the floor, zipping them up as he struggled to get his foot through the leg. He ran for the door, barreling down the stairs, eager to know who his caller was.

  He tore open the front door. A man in a suit stood there, his nose turning slightly upward as he contemplated Conrad's disheveled, just-fucked look. Conrad hoped the man could smell the sex on him.

  "What the fuck do you want?" Conrad asked.

  "I'm just the messenger, sir. I work for Larson and Larson."

  "Fucking lawyers. Great." Conrad tried to still the fear in his gut with bravado but failed spectacularly. The messenger thrust a manila envelope into his hands.

  "I'm serving you with a legal notice of repossession of goods and a termination of membership of the organization known as the Circle. You have ten days to relinquish your property."

  "Or what?" Conrad asked. "What could you possibly do to me? And on what grounds?"

  "The Circle Membership Agreement clearly states that a Circle member is not, under any circumstances, to treat property as equal value to a living person or persons, including conducting romantic relationships with Circle contracted property that is leased to the Master under the terms of the Auction Agreement, signed upon purchase of the lease to your property. If, at any time, the Circle comes into compelling evidence that property is being used contrary to the terms of the Agreement, they are within their right to terminate the Lease and repossess their property with a ten day notice to the Signatory." The messenger took a deep breath before continuing. "If the property is not released to a representative of the Circle within ten days, the Circle reserves the right to reclaim their property, by force if necessary, incurring fees up to and including the entire assets of the Signatory."

  "They'll fuck me with a debt so hard I'll never pay it off." Conrad slumped, losing the will to stand. He sat on the front step. "Wh
at can I do? Can I fight this?"

  "I wouldn't recommend it, sir. The Circle always wins. Just give up the slave and let it go. Whoever you've pissed off, they've won. Just accept it and move on."

  "That's not happening," Conrad said. "Give me your damn business card." He snatched the card from the man's fingers, fighting the bitter taste of desperation as the messenger walked away. He watched the suit get into a shiny black car with tinted windows, and idly wondered if the Master sat in the back, cackling the whole time like a villain who had just seen his master plan bear fruit.

  Conrad turned around to see Avery, naked, sitting on the stairs. His head was buried in his hands and he was crying, his entire body a quivering mess. Conrad sighed and closed the front door, locking it as if that could somehow keep the Circle at bay. He climbed the three steps to where Avery was sitting and pulled his hands away from his face, revealing a raw terror so intense he flinched.

  "Listen to me," Conrad said, holding Avery's hands in his. "I won't let them take you. Do you hear me?"

  "You can't…stop them," Avery managed between sobs. "I can't go back…not now. Not after—"

  "Shh. You're not going anywhere." Conrad kissed Avery's forehead before wiping the tears from his cheeks. "If it comes to it, I own a gun. I'll do as you ask."

  "You won't. You can't even say it."

  "I'll kill us both, Avery. I'll make sure you leave this world peacefully, and I'll follow you." He pressed his fingers to Avery's temple. "I need you to trust me, Ave. Do you?"

  Avery looked into his eyes, his wide, bloodshot, tear-filled eyes conveying every fear he'd ever had. Conrad steeled himself, not looking away when faced with the heart of Avery's vulnerability. He had to pull himself together, be the rock that Avery needed right now. His own fears had no place here.

  But damn if he didn't feel like he had the moment he'd found Abby on the kitchen floor, her face ashen, her lips blue. He'd known it was too late, that she was already gone, but it hadn't stopped him from attempting CPR on her still heart, of blowing air into her lifeless lungs in some vain attempt to save her. If his will was enough to move mountains, she would have sprung back to life right then, but of course, the strength of his emotions didn't affect a damn thing in the real world.