Inherent Cost

by Alicia Cameron

  Jere was in utter bliss. The slight edge of fear that he felt, knowing that Wren was still a little bit angry with him, made everything even better. The fact that he couldn’t see or speak, and could only hear the wet sounds of slippery fingers and flesh rubbing against flesh enhanced the sensation even more.

  He felt Wren shift, above him, and felt the telltale signs of the mattress depressing slightly where Wren’s body waited, ready over his. Jere forced himself to relax, preparing his body for the moment when Wren would push his way inside of it. He could have used a little more warm-up, but that wasn’t his decision. Like everything else, Wren was calling the shots tonight, and as he felt Wren’s cock sliding into him slowly and deliberately, he whimpered, unable to do anything else. It burned, stretching him almost to the point of pain, but Wren was kind enough to distract him from it by digging his fingers into the flesh of Jere’s ass, spreading him further apart, grabbing Jere’s hips, lifting him for better access. After what seemed like forever, Wren was fully inside of Jere, and Jere pulled at the ropes that kept him attached to the headboard, desperate for something to hold on to.

  Wren didn’t move, didn’t thrust, he just filled Jere, who could feel his muscles pulsating. When Jere tried to move, he found himself pinned tightly to the bed, a sharp elbow at the back of his neck. He gasped in surprise and excitement, and he struggled to decide whether to relax or try to work the muscles in his ass to please Wren.

  He soon realized he didn’t even get to make that decision.

  The shift from slow and deliberate to fast and punishing happened too quickly for Jere to keep up. One moment, he was trying to adjust to Wren’s length inside of him, the next, he was thankful for the ropes that bound him to the bed, because Wren was fucking him mercilessly, driving deep into him and then pulling almost all the way out, sliding back inside before Jere had the time to even notice what had happened. Jere gasped and cried out as Wren used his body hard, fucking him without taking Jere’s pleasure into account at all. That simple realization had Jere squirming, pressing his own cock into the mattress, desperate to find release.

  Once Wren had him in the perfect position, he resumed the rough slaps to Jere’s ass, striking him in time with his thrusts, making him cry out. It felt good, and it hurt. Where Wren’s hands landed, they were hot; not warm, but burning hot, hot enough to leave marks if Wren didn’t move them away so quickly. The harder he hit, the harder he pounded into Jere, and Jere didn’t know whether he could take much more.

  “Wren—”

  Before Jere could utter any of the desperate pleas he was planning on, Wren’s hand clamped firmly around his mouth.

  “I am far from finished with you,” Wren growled, his hand pressing purposefully against Jere’s teeth, forcing him to crane his neck backwards. “I told you; I am giving you what you deserve tonight, and I’m not stopping until I think you deserve it.”

  Each time Wren thrust into him, Jere felt the pressure on his jaw, on his neck, and all through his body. It scared him; Wren was usually so much more careful than this, but he enjoyed it as well. As rough as it was, Wren was still being cautious, guarding against real injury while making Jere pleasantly uncomfortable. The fact that Wren was controlling everything about this experience was perfect.

  “You’re lucky I don’t burn a handprint across your face,” Wren hissed, warming the hand over Jere’s mouth just a tiny bit. “Maybe then you’ll remember to open your mouth when you have something to say.”

  Jere could only shudder at that threat. The pain would be awful, and the humiliation would last for days.

  After a few minutes, Wren relaxed his grip on Jere’s mouth, at least enough that Jere stopped worrying about pressing his teeth through his lips. He parted them slightly, feeling Wren’s fingers still resting there, and he licked lightly at them with his tongue, enjoying the warmth he found there. Wren responded by bending his middle and ring fingers inward, working them into Jere’s mouth while holding his head still with the rest of his hand. Obediently, Jere began to suck, working Wren’s fingers in time with the rapid thrusting in his ass. He felt completely and utterly at Wren’s mercy, and while it was a little intimidating, he absolutely loved it.

  Wren came first, thrusting deep into Jere’s ass and squeezing his hand tightly around Jere’s jaw, nearly gagging him with how deeply his fingers were in Jere’s throat.

  Jere took it, sucking harder at Wren’s fingers, clenching his muscles around Wren’s cock. He whimpered at the feeling, and he ground into the mattress, seeking his own release. Wren’s hand pressed down hard on his back, pinning him, and Jere moaned. Reluctantly, he stopped moving. Wren’s fingers withdrew from his mouth as his cock withdrew from Jere’s ass, and Jere was left feeling empty and unfulfilled. He whimpered, not sure if he should risk speaking again so soon. If Wren had more planned for the night, Jere had no desire to spoil it.

  “Oh, did you want to come?” Wren taunted.

  Jere nodded eagerly.

  With a laugh, Wren reached underneath of Jere, wrapping his hand into a tight fist around Jere’s cock. He didn’t bother to untie him or touch him further, he just lent his hand. “Go ahead.”

  Jere drew a breath. His pleasure was an afterthought tonight. A purposeful afterthought. Wren had taken what he wanted from Jere, and now he was throwing him the scraps. Jere accepted, rocking his hips and thrusting into Wren’s hand. It was strangely erotic in its humiliation; he was so desperate to come that he would take this over nothing. Wren didn’t help; didn’t move his hand, or squeeze his fingers at all. Despite the blindfold, Jere could feel Wren’s eyes burning into him.

  “Better hurry up,” Wren said, so calm compared to the heat his body was generating. “I might just get bored and leave you here before you finish. See if you’ll hump the mattress like an animal or beg me to come back.”

  Jere trembled, working harder, wishing he had a hand free, or the ability to change angles at least. He was trapped here, helpless, blindfolded, bound. The fact that he knew Wren well enough to realize it was intentional made it that much more alluring. Despite the angle, he came quickly, pressing his face into the mattress to avoid crying out.

  When he finished, Wren unwound his fingers from Jere’s cock, wiping his hand clean on Jere’s back, a final touch that left Jere gasping in shock and arousal once again. Wren got up off the bed without a word, leaving Jere alone. He lay there, wondering if Wren might just leave him tied there all night, covered in both their fluids. The fantasy held its appeal, but Jere really wanted to spend the night cuddled with his lover. He had missed him so much.

  Wren returned quickly, and Jere actually flinched as a warm washcloth came in contact with his skin, wiping away the sweat and the come and the lube and soothing the scratches Wren had left on him. Jere relaxed, letting Wren take care of him. He was as gentle and meticulous as always.

  Once he was cleaned to Wren’s satisfaction, his arm and legs were untied, and Wren pulled him over to the clean side of the bed and into his arms. Only then did he take off the blindfold.

  Jere glanced up at him, a little surprised to see Wren smiling. He started to open his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it.

  “You can talk now,” Wren told him indulgently, stroking a hand down Jere’s back.

  “That wasn’t all play, was it?” Jere asked, cuddling into Wren’s arms.

  “You liked it anyway,” Wren pointed out, not denying it.

  Jere sighed happily. He had more than liked it, regardless of the motivation behind it. If Wren wanted to sort out his anger that way, Jere was more than happy to play along.

  “I liked it a lot. And it doesn’t mean I didn’t get your point. I need to communicate better, and trust you more.”

  “Yeah,” Wren agreed, cuddling him close. It went quiet for a few moments.

  “I love you,” Jere reminded Wren. “No matter what happens, that will never change. I fuck up because of what I’m lacking, not you. I knew I should have told you from
the start, I just didn’t because I was weak and scared.”

  “I know,” Wren replied, kissing him softly. “And I love you, too. It doesn’t fix everything, but it makes it better. I wouldn’t trade having you here with me right now for anything in the world. Even if we do fuck up sometimes.”

  Jere lay in Wren’s arms, feeling safe and happy in spite of everything. He didn’t have to be perfect; there was room for both of them to make mistakes. He would rather that he not keep making the same one over and over again, but if he did, perhaps he just hadn’t learned it well enough the first time. He tried so hard to protect Wren, but it was just too easy to get caught up in the same old patterns. As much as he wanted to pretend that Wren was just another lover, an equal that anyone would recognize as such, Wren’s welfare depended very much on him. Stupid shit like lying to him about the chance to be free, provoking people who offended his delicate outlander sensibilities... all he was doing was putting Wren and Isis in danger. He had to adapt, and he needed Wren’s help with every step of that process.

  He vowed to continue to try, for Wren and for himself. He owed it to both of them to do that much.

  Chapter 26

  Audit

  The next morning, Wren watched, amused, as Jere let Isis in on the secret he had been keeping.

  Isis shrugged. “So? I don’t mind you making decisions like that. I don’t want to go anyway. I like it here.”

  Wren laughed. It was so simple for her. No debating, no beating herself up over what could be. She didn’t want to go, so it didn’t even matter that Jere lied about it. He wished he could forgive so easily—he wasn’t as angry as he had been before, but he needed time to heal, to trust again.

  “What?” Isis asked. “I can’t fucking live on my own. I like living with you guys. If you decide to go, I’ll go, too. I’d rather not risk it, but if I have to I will.”

  “I should let you know too that I kind of got jumped,” Wren mentioned, explaining the story quickly. “I think your plan to never leave the house again was pretty solid. We have to be careful, especially with the things Jere was saying when you were in Redmont.”

  Jere got up to make breakfast, which Wren knew was an attempt to appease him. He appreciated it, and he appreciated the chance to see what Isis thought of the news.

  “Are you really thinking of leaving?” she asked.

  “I’m considering the option. I don’t even know if I’ve made up my mind yet.”

  “If you go, Jere goes, and I’m going too. That’s not even a fucking question. It will just happen.”

  Wren shrugged. “Who knows, maybe Jere won’t go.” He wondered how much of Jere’s secret-keeping was because he wanted to keep Wren out of danger, and how much of it was because he wanted to keep Wren in Hojer. After all, it wasn’t like he’d have a lucrative job in a free state.

  “Why the hell would he stay? He hates it here.”

  “He’s starting to fit in better here. There are benefits to staying in Hojer. He’s playing the political card pretty well now. He’s got friends, a job, lots of money... he could find another slave, or another boyfriend. Or both.”

  Isis gave him a critical look. “You’re being stupid. Jere would cut himself up into pieces and ship them one by one in little boxes if that’s what it took to get back to you. You’re his favorite person ever. He loves you. Like... really loves you. You’re not a slave to him. He likes me, in a different way. I don’t know if I’m a slave to him; maybe I’m just a kid to him. There’s not that much difference, especially if you’re treating them well. My parents are like you guys.”

  Wren smiled. He and Jere had happily settled into the routine of a married couple. “I want the chance to think about it. I might never get the opportunity again.”

  Isis rolled her eyes. “There will be other chances. It will probably get safer and better planned in a few years. Or maybe if we just wait long enough, slavery won’t be so bad.”

  Wren didn’t know if he was capable of waiting that long. There was a time in his life when he would have been elated that he was being treated well and getting his basic needs met. The more he had, the more he wanted. The only way that he could have it all was to find a way to be free.

  But as Jere returned, bringing some slightly overcooked food along with him, Wren couldn’t help but smile at his strange family. They would miss him. That was something he had never had before. As alluring as freedom was, could it ever be worth more than this?

  While they finished their meal, the calm of the house and clinic was interrupted by a loud knock. Wren answered, as usual, speeding to the door casually and opening it before Jere had a chance to wonder who it was.

  “Early audit,” Wren’s voice in his head was the only warning Jere had. A moment later, he heard the footsteps of a stranger moving through his house.

  “Auditor’s here early,” Jere informed Isis. “Sorry, but I need you ready.”

  He waited, seated as was proper, and let Wren bring the intruder into his house. The few seconds in which Wren was out of sight and Jere was still sitting stupidly in his dining room seemed like hours, but Jere knew it was the proper thing to do. Wren had made that clear on many occasions.

  Wren flashed a tiny smile as he entered the room. “There’s an auditor here to see you, master.”

  Jere tried not to cringe at the title. It was easier now, there had been enough practice while they were getting Isis ready that the term itself wasn’t utterly repellant. It was just the fact that it was coming out of Wren’s mouth. He stood, nodding stiffly at Wren, and looked at the auditor. It was a different one from before.

  “You’re not scheduled to be here for almost another week,” Jere pointed out.

  “There was a change in schedule,” the auditor informed him.

  “I have patients waiting!”

  “As long as there are no problems, this won’t take long. Besides, your patients will appreciate that their doctor is cooperating with the Slave Control, Regulation, and Enforcement Agency.”

  As if Jere had agreed to anything, the auditor introduced himself and informed Jere of his rights and responsibilities. Jere thought the whole thing was bullshit. He didn’t care who this man was, or why anyone might believe that this was a good idea, and he certainly didn’t feel that he had any rights. He put on a smile and agreed with everything.

  “I’ll start by doing a brief visual inspection of the area,” the auditor explained. “Do I have your consent to look into files, closets, and that sort of thing?”

  “Of course,” Jere agreed, nodding at him. He didn’t really have a choice, but he was glad that they had cleaned the place up a little. They could never be too careful.

  “Thank you. After that, I’ll be asking you and your slaves a series of questions. I prefer to be alone while interviewing.”

  Jere nodded. They had expected this. Everyone had prepared him, and Wren and Isis were ready for the experience. The preparation didn’t make it any more desirable, nor did the early visit. “That is perfectly acceptable, but the mind connection stays activated.” This was perhaps an uncommon request, but it was perfectly allowable. According to some people he had talked to, it was advisable. “I have many private issues that I would rather not have discussed. Health privacy, patient information, that sort of thing. I am obligated as a part of my profession to protect this information.”

  “That will be fine,” the auditor nodded. “The agency has no interest in exposing professional secrets.”

  Jere was glad that this was going somewhat peacefully. “If you don’t mind, sir, can I ask what your gift is? I was told that sometimes this could be used as part of the process.”

  The auditor nodded. “I can easily ascertain whether someone is telling the truth or not,” he said. “In response to a direct question. Do I have your consent to use this today?”

  Jere nodded. “Yes.” He didn’t want to agree, but he had no choice. To deny the auditor that request would be to prove his guilt.

>   Jere gulped as the auditor made his way around the house, giving each space a cursory inspection. He had no idea what the man was looking for; perhaps a torture dungeon, perhaps a group of runaway slaves. Regardless, he found none of those things, just the usual. Coats in the closet. Shoes. Silverware in the drawers, brooms in another closet. If the man had anything to say about the massive amount of clothes he found in Wren’s old room, he said nothing. It only made sense that a doctor would provide adequate clothing for his slaves. Jere just hoped it wasn’t too obvious that Wren only used the room to store off-season clothes. The guest rooms were hotel-plain and empty, making for very fast inspections. The master bedroom was a little slower, and Jere felt himself blushing fiercely when the man opened the cabinet where their rather massive collection of sex toys lived.

  The auditor noted something on the clipboard he carried with him, making Jere’s heart race. Jere couldn’t help moving a little closer, trying to peek at what he was writing before he died of nerves.

  “Doctor Peters, I’ve seen my share of bedroom games,” the auditor said, clearly irritated with Jere’s hovering. “If this is what you’re the most nervous about, you’ll be fine. Nothing wrong with tying a slave up and having your way with him.”

  Jere backed off, a little amused that the man had automatically assumed that it was Wren who was being tied up. That was probably for the best. Still, Jere was relieved when he left their bedroom.

  That relief was short-lived, as he approached Isis’s room, where she had managed not to destroy anything else since it had been repaired. She sat in there, as she had insisted it was the most comfortable and contained place in the house.