Becoming His Slave

by Talon P. S.

  “Are you ready?”

  Katianna turned to find Trenton squatted down in from of her. Oh wow—she couldn’t help that he took her breath away. His suite unlike anything she had seen—outside a movie that is, but it did resemble something from one, seeing the sexy comparison that his specially tailored black suit looked like something from the movie, the Matrix. The long sleeve suit coat buttoned from throat to well below his waist, then sprayed out in several long panels reaching all the way to the floor draping over black slacks, accessorized with the second skin of black leather gloves. She always loved the well fitted gloves.

  Diesel of course dressed similarly, only his jacket took on a slightly more duster coat appearance. Just enough to set him apart and to suite his rough neck persona.

  If only she and Paris were allotted similar coverage. But it wasn’t the case. Paris wore cream colored leather pants that fit so tight they looked as if they had been painted to his body. A gladiator belt with a leather strap panels on the front and back matched with dark brown butter soft leather gauntlets wrapped around his fore arms. The leather boots with large scales running up the shins made him look like he’d battled a dragon for the scales.

  As for her, she was apparently the sacrificial virgin. A cream colored skirt that was far too long for her to walk in. This apparently was the point. Her breasts nearly open for the world to see given only a faint hint of modesty by the multitude of necklace strands made of beads and seashells. And her long wavy hair helped as well. Not that she felt covered mind you.

  “Kat?” Trenton took her hands in his and kissed them both, looking up at her waiting for her response. Her fingers felt clammy suddenly in his. She shook her head timidly and he offered her a gentle smile. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be with you the whole time.” She nodded.

  But when he stood gathering her skirt up and placing the drawn fabric in her shackled hands, she felt quiet queasy. “I don’t think a should eat.” She whispered.

  “I’ll start with small nibbles for you then, if you still feel too jittery to eat then just let me know. You don’t have to eat, if you can’t stomach it. Okay?” She nodded.

  As they sat at the Master of Doms table: it only got worse. The voices, the laughter, even the comments thrown about some meant for her and Paris, others had nothing to do with them—but regardless she heard them all and they effected her equally so. She might as well have been one of the Slaves about to be placed on stage, naked before all and their creator—she was a nervous disaster. Too much so to eat and that was a shame for the moment, because once again Paris had displayed his knowledge for arranging a sinful dinner.

  Roasted duckling and baby asparagus sautéed in lemon herb butter, all drizzled over with a Belgian chocolate sauce. Desert was slices of banana and pastry waffle chips, caramelized in a pan till just crispy, served over vanilla bean ice-cream and drizzled over with butterscotch and white chocolate. Every mouth watering flavor still could not win the argument against her belly that it should give up the butterflies for a far more tantalizing treat, nor did the butterfly war listen to her.

  Occasionally when she could, she stole glances over at Paris, as if the connection she felt to this man who endured as she did could make her feel less apprehensive, less shattered. Like having your best friend at your side even if that meant both of you were in trouble by association. And right now her friend’s mood, like her nerves had still not improved much, but she had to wonder if any of Paris’ part was from the discomfort of being fed by Diesel. She couldn’t imagine a man being comfortable about being fed. Even in a man’s best behavior they were still pigs when it came to eating and preferred the freedom to carry on the ritual with their own two hands which his, at the moment were shackled like hers.

  As for Diesel he looked like he was two seconds from dumping the dinner plate in his lap and the hard on fighting to be free of the heavy black trench coat so he could command Paris to eat off his body rather than hand feed him. Paris seemed to notice too, but unlike Paris, Diesel stilled seemed to be too refrained to do anything about it.

  Time to move in a rush paced and before she knew it the dinner was finished along with her wandering thoughts. Trenton had her and Paris walking close at his heels for the stage. Behind them, a string of men and woman, beautifully naked and bound for the auction block—each and every one of them caught up in their own emotional storm. A few not so silently.

  Trenton paused at the side wing of the stage, turning he glanced down at her. Katianna felt her heart in her throat and wondered by who’s grace she didn’t faint right there on the spot. The soft touch of his hands even inside the gloves reached her, his eyes strong and powerful told her to stand still—possessed her—owned her. He pulled the gathers of her skirt from her hands and dropped the tremendous amount of ruffled excess to the floor and splayed it out around her feet, then made a few adjustments to her hair, so that a perky nipple peeked through only enough that he knew they were there waiting for him, waiting for his mouth to come over them and suckle them till they were achingly hard and burning for more of him. When she was as he wanted her, he rewarded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead. Then turned to Paris, after Trenton repositioned his shackled arms to his back, Paris was eased to his knees next to her and motioned back till he was sitting on his heels and then he too was given the same affectionate kiss to the forehead.

  The next to receive Trenton’s attention were his guests and to their glee the moment they had come for had finally arrived.

  Trenton stepped out on the stage runway his hands plainly at his side as he strode out in complete control of himself and those around him. When he reached the end his arms moved behind his back and he bowed gently to his guests and they cheered for him. He straightened pivoted just enough to direct another bow to the side of the room then mirrored the movement to the opposite side.

  A stage hand stepped up gave him a signal and Trenton called out to the mob just like he had for Marcus’s birthday. Only this time, only the Dominus reined in control.

  The first slave up was a woman, tender ivory skin and strawberry blonde curls spilled over her shoulders to lick at her savory breasts and rosy pink nipples. Diesel led her on, his hand on the back of her neck keeping her in check. He controlled them all with that touch, but that firm contact also gave them reassurance, gave them what they had come for, submission to the control of a dominant. They had surrendered to this, to being sold to the highest bidder. From here out whatever happened to them they could do nothing about it.

  And as each slave was brought up one by one, a few gave over their tears as well as their bodies.

  All was going well they had just completed the first round where the Island Resort raked in nearly half of the sixty-five slaves given over for 2 to 6 months of servitude; taking thirty instead of the intended twenty for the resort, just one of the advantages of having some of the island’s primary investors present.

  The long session was followed with a break, one that Katianna was in need of. Trenton escorted her into the ladies room helping her gather her skirt, but then she waited for him to leave when he didn’t move for the door her expression deepened “Are you going to step out?”

  “No.” He tightened.

  “Trenton?” her eyes bugged at him.

  Trenton ignored the outburst, dropping back against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. Basically letting her know he wasn’t budging.

  “Please—” she begged.

  Trenton glanced at his watch, “We’re don’t have much time and I won’t have another chance to bring you in until after the next set and I have twenty-eight people in the listing. Are you sure you wanna get stuck holding it that long?”

  Kat frowned. Then stomped over to the sink, flipped the tap up to run the water, then went into the stall. Trenton laughed.

  With the small amount of time he had after the second round of the auction, Trenton strolled through the crowd shaking hands and congratulating several auction winners wh
en he spotted them, but the main purpose for the roundabout route back to the stage was so he could stop by Dane’s table to check on the progress on the wire transfers. He pulled Katianna into his lap and nibbled on her neck and shoulders while Dane read out the transactions so far. Enjoying his position thoroughly and Kat felt like she was melting in his reining power.

  Cardiff came around to compliment Trenton on the lavish event and to boast of his recent win for a male slave.

  Cardiff leaned in to surrender a kiss to the Dominus’ cheek when he spotted Paris. He broke off instantly rushing to the man. His hands went up to embrace Paris’s face, “It’s you.” The older man looked the bound god over, his hands sweeping down Paris’ chest, his arms, touching him as if to convince himself Paris was truly there. “I have searched all over for you. I will do anything to have you back.” He stammered.

  “Cardiff! Take your hands off my slave.” Trenton warned him. Cardiff was a good friend, but too many others had wanted to do the same. So he could not make any allowances at the present time.

  Cardiff backed off as ordered, but his eyes were locked on Paris, something in the old artist’s gaze had Trenton recalling Rashawn’s comment—that the old man had lost it.

  Trenton shot a glance at Paris who was watching the old artist’s retreat with a powerful and lusty gaze. “Paris!” He snapped him to attention and pointed to the floor at his feet. Paris stepped up quickly dropping to his knees and bowed forward till his head was rested on Trenton’s hip. He remained there quietly as Katianna stepped up next standing beside him. Paris knew Trenton was offering her reassurance that she was his and no one would touch her. Knowing Dominus was preoccupied he turned his glance out towards the artist’s last seen direction and sure enough there he was up against the bar ordering up a drink. Cardiff glanced his way and saw him looking, the old man nearly downed his glass, his eyes locked in his direction. Paris rubbed his head into Trenton’s loins just to spur it on further—Look what I can do for the Dominus—wouldn’t you love for me to do this to you?

  Trenton nearly lost his senses. Having Katianna standing before him, in the flowing creamy skirt, her hard nipples peeking out from under the heavy strands of island strands of shells, her arms restrained back behind her back with the custom made silver bangles. His dream looking up at him, submitted to him, even Paris submitted at his feet added to the headiness of it all. The power of it, the controlled seduction he had over his guests and the event as it unfolded—he was high off the energy. His hand came down to rake through Paris’s hair and actually pulled him tighter against his body. He felt the man’s lips on his wrist and on his palm as Paris kissed the hand that commanded him.

  What Trenton would give for the night to be over so he could take them both up to their room and have his way with them. But then he couldn’t allow that. The night he would spend with Katianna, he would have with just her. She would have his undivided attention while he claimed her.

  Trenton bent over her steeling a heated kiss from her lips. They were swollen just like her nipples and that was a good sign. He knew she was afraid, but that she was aroused meant she was in a healthy balance between the storm of emotions.

  “Mmmm—” he hummed as he tilted his head back away from her, taking her bottom lip with him before releasing her completely, “… you are so perfect for me.” He stroked her lip with his thumb contemplating another kiss, but he needed to prepare for the next round. He was hard as a rock under the matrix styled suite coat and one more kiss would not end with just one.

  “Enough Paris.” His command was softer than it should have been; giving Paris too much credit then his pride should ever be given. The man fed on other people’s lust and prided in it. And displayed it by licking over bulge in his pants. Trenton’s fingers fisted into Paris’s hair and pulled his head back to look up at him, “I should have you caned for this.”

  Paris licked at his lips, twisting his head in Trenton’s grasp to lick at his wrist and kiss it with an open mouth, showing no shame for what he was up to. Trenton had to hand it to him, Paris knew seduction like no man he had ever come across, but right now he needed to be reined in.

  “Do you want me to blindfold you?”

  Paris tumultuous game came to an abrupt stop, “No Dominus.”

  “Then stop now.”

  Paris stopped as he was told and bowed his head, “Yes Dominus.” Paris hated the blindfold, without his eye sight he could not keep up where he was or control those around him. How easy it was to give a man a glance of his eyes paired with a lick of his lips and he could reel them all in. But blindfolded he was literally stumbling in the dark, that’s when control was truly taken from him.

  “Good boy. Now come to your feet.” Trenton pated his head, but gave no assistance to him as he carefully shifted his feet so he could stand.

  Trenton reached around Katianna unclipping her hand shackles and brought them around front and reclipped them. He gathered up a section of her skirt and placed it in her hands. “We’ll walk around for a bit before the next round starts.” He spoke softly to her. His gaze shifting up to Paris, “Walk beside her do not step ahead of her or fall behind either. You will both follow directly behind me as you have previously been instructed throughout the night.” He laid a finger on Paris’ lips then to Katianna’s keeping them both silent and as a gentle way of delivering a kiss to them both, then turned and started his way towards the crowd of guests in the ballroom. His hand came up pressing on the throat mic hidden under his collar, “Patronus, you will join me now.”

  Cardiff had worked himself into a drunken mess as he watched his dark angel standing there behind the Dominus, taunting him. He rubbed at his cock through his trousers and he didn’t care who was watching—he was dying for the taste of the man again and he’d fucking beg to have it if that was what it was going to take. He had waited throughout the auction run hoping the Dominus would place Paris up on the block. He was prepared to fork out every euro he had and then some to buy the man and then he’d lock him away in a cellar so he could never run away again. But when it became evidently clear Dominus had no intentions of selling Paris—that he planned to keep him for himself, Cardiff lost all sense of sanity.

  The third session of auctions was nearing its end, bids being called out for the last slave entry in the session. With the Dominus still preoccupied on stage, Cardiff made his way towards his angelic lover.

  Cardiff reached the back platform of the side stage where Dominus kept his slaves posed and instantly he rushed them from behind. “I must have you.” The aging artist rattled on, grabbing Paris and spinning him around to face him.

  Katianna whirled around at the commotion, seeing the man from the Parisian museum manhandle Paris. She snapped around to find Trenton still on stage and he hadn’t noticed yet. She couldn’t scream, knowing it would not look good and she didn’t want to upset him or do the wrong thing. There was plenty of security around they’ll see this soon enough. Wouldn’t they?

  “Please I must have you!” Cardiff had Paris by the head and was forcibly attempting to kiss him. Paris tried to get to his feet; his head reeled back as far as he could manage, unable to thwart the man’s desperate grip on him while his arms were still restrained behind his back.

  “You must come back to me.”

  Katianna could see Paris was trapped, unable to get to his feet—unable to escape the man’s advances, licking Paris’ face in a lost attempt to gain his lips. “Get off him!” Katianna finally yelped and then she heard the bustling in the crowd as everyone’s eyes were shifting to them.

  “Look he already has his canary.” Cardiff would not relinquish his demands. “The Dominus—he cannot have you. I had you first. You belong to me!”

  Paris pitched as far back as he dared hoping to dislodge the man’s grip on him, but the old man would not let go. The artist whose bed he once shared as his price for posing for his sculpture had simply lost his mind. Paris had no intention of ever going back to the artist
’s bed. But he was helpless to break free of him and unable to see past him to see that help was coming, he knew of only one other way to get free and that was to turn the tables. “Then suck me old man!” Paris was suddenly ragging at Cardiff, “If you want me to go with you, you must prove you can satisfy me and suck my cock!”

  Cardiff buckled under his own desperation, his hands already letting go of Paris and moving to his belt and pants. Paris managed to force himself past Cardiff and get to his feet. Some inkling thought in the back of his mind reminded him of the small mouse standing next to him. A quick glance over his shoulder and he saw Katianna stare after him in horror, but he could not explain to her. Not now. Even when he felt her manacled hands grab his arm, he could not stop what was happening.

  Katianna felt like she was in a tug of war to keep Paris from the man, but her attempts were feeble in comparison of the old artist. She had seen the panic in Paris’ face, but for him to command the older man to suck on him didn’t make sense. She looked again for Trenton who was very aware of what was taking place behind him, rage heating up on his face, his hand held the slave woman he’d been conducting by the arm thrusting her into the arms of another. Every muscle in his body lunging towards them, once he was freed from responsibility of the other.

  “Cardiff!” Trenton shouted as he came bounding across the stage.

  There were several others making their way across the floor towards them and she saw Diesel among them.

  Cardiff was already on his knees attempting to remove the wide leather coagulum belt that completed Paris’ gladiator ensemble.

  Paris was near manic, shouting at the man over and over to suck him. But before Cardiff could comply, all hell broke loose or something closely resembling it, when Trenton attempted to pull him from Paris.