No Refunds
*** warning - graphic, if you're not into yaoi you might want to give this a miss ***
"No woman likes to see another taking her place."
It was a Tuesday when I told Sarah that I was leaving. I had already packed what few possessions I could lay claim to - three pairs of pants, six shirts, a leather belt, a pair of well-worn sneakers, nine socks, a plain navy blue tie, my old leather jacket, all of it stuffed in a backpack that had been put up in the attic and forgotten about for nearly three years. That, and what I was wearing, and the journals that I had so carefully hidden, was the entirety of my worldly goods.
I told her calmly, my voice level, careful to keep every trace of fear out of my tone. I met her eyes; that alone took so much effort that I thought at times I was going to faint, but I did it, my gaze never left hers. I told her that I was done, that I couldn't bear to stay even a moment more, that I never wanted to see her again.
I took off the slender strip of leather that for three years had been around my throat, and I handed it to her. When I'd imagined the moment, I had dreamed of throwing it to the ground, dropping it where I stood perhaps, or tossing it carelessly over my shoulder, but I realized as I stripped myself of its protection that I could not treat it so casually. Instead I held it out, my hand trembling slightly, suddenly afraid that she would refuse to take it. I didn't know what I would do if she did... but she reached out as well, took the collar, and for several minutes she sat there, turning it over in her hands, not saying anything.
"Is there anything you need? Bus fare, a hotel room, use of the car, perhaps," she asked, the words quiet enough that I had to strain to hear them. I had half-expected this and shook my head.
"No, m- no. I've got a ride, and somewhere to stay, and I start my new job on Monday. I'll be fine." There was another long pause, then she asked the question I'd been waiting for.
"Why?"
"...because I'm not a slave. I can't be any more. It hurts too much, it's too hard, I just... I can't belong to you, to anyone. I need to be free. I need a life of my own."
"So you're not just leaving me for another woman?" There was laughter in her voice now, faint, but clear enough to me, accustomed to paying close attention to even the tiniest shift in tone that might indicate a sudden mood change or a new whim.
"Of course not. I'm going to stay with Kieran, he's got that spare room and he's willing to let me stay for free until I start getting my paychecks, then he's just asking a small amount in rent. I'm used to sleeping on the floor so the sofa in there will be more than fine for a bed."
Kieran Tsinju was someone that I'd come to consider a friend over the last two years. I hadn't really known him, despite seeing him around fairly often; we hung out in many of the same places, but somehow never quite got around to talking. That changed after I moved in with Sarah.
She had told me when I first came to her House that the only place I would have there was a pet, a well-trained animal there for her amusement. I had thought, when I'd thought about it at all, that she meant I was supposed to be obedient and act the part of a cute housepet at times to entertain her, that it was just a game. I got my first taste of just how seriously she intended it the first time she had to leave town for a few days. She wasn't going far, traveling down to the coast to spend some time visiting old friends, and at first I had expected to go with her. When she told me she would be leaving me at home I'd looked forward to that, already eager to have a break from the submission she demanded.
Just two hours before she was to leave, there was a knock on the door. One of my tasks was to play footman, so I hurried to the door, hopping quickly into the pair of tight jeans that were kept folded on the small table beside it, the only clothing I was allowed to wear in the house. I had barely got them zipped up when there was a second round of knocking and I cursed, not keeping it quiet as I knew she was unlikely to hear me from the room she was in. Swearing was on the list of things that were likely to leave me without dinner or with a sore ass, and already I'd gotten used to biting my tongue whenever I suspected she might overhear.
I took a deep breath, brushed the hair out of my eyes, and opened the door. I'm not sure who I was expecting, perhaps Kate, her blonde and buxom ride to the coast, showing up early, but what greeted me was wavy red hair, a smiling mouth of white teeth, a faded and scuffed pair of leather combat boots, no breasts whatsoever, and an open-palmed slap.
"I know Sarah'd have your hide if she heard you cussing, boy. No swearing, no yelling, no eye contact, proper speech... she's letting you wear clothing when you answer the door at least, you must have been well-behaved recently... and I can see that you've been all dolled up too. How flattering." His voice was warm but firm, and I started to look up at him, wanting to get a better look at his face, his eyes, wondering if he was joking with me. Just in time, I remembered the still-stinging handprint on my cheek. He may have sounded friendly but clearly he knew Sarah's rules and knew as well that I was a slave.
I'd only gotten as far along that chain of thoughts as the realization that he had noticed the trace of eyeshadow and lipstick Sarah had insisted I wear when his voice cut in again, snapping me back to the present with a single word, a command that so far I had only heard from my Mistress's lips.
"Strip."
I blushed bright red, unable to keep from glaring at him now, my hands rather protectively covering the button and zipper of my jeans. It had taken me a solid week to earn the right to wear them, and I wasn't about to take them off in front of another man without a direct order from Sarah. I nearly hissed my next words.
"I'll let m'Lady know you are here. Who shall I tell her is calling?"
He laughed outright, stepping past me and walking down the hall leading to the library while he answered, "Kieran Tsinju, as I'm quite sure you know, and I'll tell her myself. I'm sure she'll be interested to know how her property is behaving."
I followed, suddenly wary. Something in his tone finally registered and I was now fairly sure I was going to be in a lot of trouble if he told Sarah that I'd disobeyed an order. I couldn't bring myself to say anything; this was still very early in my training, and my pride kept me from speaking. Fortunately, my survival instinct overruled it enough to let a whimper squeak out. Kieran glanced back over his shoulder, saw the pleading expression on my face, turned, and took the few steps back to where I was standing.
"You're still new, so I'll cut you some slack. She'll be happier with both of us if she thinks you've been behaving, it'll make her proud. So, I'll ask you once more... strip." He was nearly whispering, quiet enough that I was certain she couldn't have overheard, and this time I fought down my nervousness and fumbled with my jeans. A moment later they were off, a few seconds after that saw them folded and placed back beside the door, and barely 30 seconds after the order had been given, I was kneeling, naked, head bowed, murmuring my thanks for his kindness. Kieran ruffled my hair and gestured for me to rise.
"Don't worry, kid. Just keep it up for a couple hours more, then you can relax. Now come on, you can lead the way." With those last whispered words, he gestured toward the far end of the hall where the door to the library stood half-open, waiting. I started to climb to my feet, then remembered another rule she had given recently - when I was on my knees, I was not to rise until given permission - and instead dropped to all fours, scrambling down the hall as quick as I could, struggling to keep ahead of him as he walked quickly toward the library.
I reached the library door several seconds before Kieran and slipped through it, nudging it open with my shoulder and hip as I passed, making sure it would be open when he arrived. Beyond that, I didn't bother doing anything else to announce him, just scuttled straight to Sarah and pressed my face against her legs, cuddling up against them as if I were a frightened puppy. As I'd hoped, this amused her enough that by the time Kieran was standing before her my head was on her lap, her hand in my hair, and she hadn't noticed the handprint on my cheek.
"Well? What do you think of him?"
"A bit slow on the uptake, perhaps, but I can tell he's already learned quite a bit. You're a good teacher, Sarah."
Soft laughter on her part, then, "Thank you, you flatter me as always. So are you still willing to keep an eye on my pets while I'm gone?"
"Of course. Same rules as always?"
"No blood, food and water as long as they behave, clean the litter box once, no parties, help yourself to anything in the fridge."
My head had lifted slightly at the mention of pets, then settled back down when he talked about the litter box - she must have changed her mind about bringing me, I thought, and had asked him to come keep an eye on her two cats. That idea was rubbed out of existence a moment later.
"He's never been with anyone but me before, so be somewhat gentle with him. I want him in one piece."
"Of course. Don't I always take good care of your pets for you?" His voice still had that warmth, oddly comforting, and a strange contrast to the sudden shock of cold I felt running down my spine. I raised my head again, this time turning to look at Sarah, too frightened to remember to keep my eyes down. Unfortunately, she saw not only that slip, but the handprint on my cheek as well. She pushed me away and I flinched, nearly falling back against Kieran, then skittering away from him to settle equidistant between the two of them, trembling. I knew quite well just how quickly my Owner's amusement could turn to displeasure and how swiftly punishment would follow.
"Boy, what did you do to earn the slap?"
I started to answer, about to confess to all of the errors I'd made, when he cut me off.
"I just wanted to make it clear from the get-go that I was in charge, hon. He didn't do anything wrong; he was even opening the door by the time I started to knock a second time, I nearly knocked on his nose."
I snuck a glance up at him in time to catch him smiling down at me, perfectly calm, looking for all the world as if he was telling nothing but the truth. This time I did look at her when I spoke, careful to keep my words to something that would sound like begging, one of the only times when I was allowed to raise my eyes.
"Please, Mistress, your pet no doubt will do something to deserve the slap soon if he hasn't already, but he tries to be a good boy..." I let my voice trail off into a tiny whimper, wriggling in lieu of wagging the tail I didn't have. As I'd hoped, this won me a smile and the slightest of nods, indicating forgiveness.
"I'm sure you'll earn it and more by the time the day's over, little one. Still, I can see you're doing your best to obey, and that is enough to please me. So you know, Kieran will be staying here while I'm gone, pet-sitting. You are to do whatever he commands, to please him as you would me, and if when I come back he says you've been a well-behaved slaveboy, I might even give you a treat."
I squirmed again, smiling in earnest; when Sarah decided I deserved a treat she always managed to find something that thrilled me, the perfect little gift, or some time spent just playing, being friends rather than Mistress and slave. Whatever my prize was to be, I knew I would enjoy it...
...and that if I failed to earn it, my punishment would be as unpleasant as the prize would be pleasant.
The next two hours passed rather swiftly; I spent most of the time away from the two of them, bringing in Kieran's luggage from his car and carting it up to the largest guest bedroom, packing Sarah a lunch to take with her and preparing one for Kieran to be served here, making a fresh pitcher of iced tea, and carrying more luggage, Sarah's bags taken out to the car she planned to drive and a few presents for friends packed as well. Roughly five minutes before she needed to leave, I was summoned back into the library by the faint chiming of the little trinket attached to my collar.
Sarah had given me my bell after the first two weeks of training, when I was first allowed to roam the House freely and was no longer chained into the cage beside her bed each night. I still slept there most nights and spent much of my days sitting near her, waiting for any command she might wish to give me, but occasionally I would simply wander through the various rooms and gardens. My favorite little den was in the garden at the center of the House, a tiny nook hidden behind several large flowering shrubs. There was a patch of soft moss, a tiny brook, and a scattering of wild strawberries that left the air sweet and fragrant even when there was no fruit to be seen. Often I would settle myself on the mossy bed and catnap, savoring the peaceful moments.
Inevitably, my rest was ended by the soft chimes from my bell. It was actually closer to a pager, designed to look like an old-fashioned brass and enamel bell like the ones that might be found on cat collars. My Mistress could either press the button on the slender wand of a remote that she usually carried in her pocket, or dial the pager number from any phone she happened to be near. When it started to ring I knew I was commanded to return, and that if I was in the same building as she was, I had ten run-throughs of its' little pattern before I would be disciplined for arriving late.
I made it back this time with five rings to spare, padding into the library and sinking swiftly into nadu, kneeling with my legs spread wide, ass resting on my heels, back arched, head raised proudly while my gaze remained politely downward, and hands resting palm-up on my thighs. I'd glanced at a clock as I ran for the library and knew Sarah would be on her way out the door, so instead of kneeling at her feet as was my usual position, I took up my pose beside Kieran's chair, facing my already-standing Owner.
"Looks like he's already pretty comfortable with me," laughed Kieran, ruffling my hair. My eyes closed and I leaned into the caress, murring affectionately.
"That's a good sign; just remember, I want him intact. No blood, no serious damage, no scars." Her voice was matter-of-fact, enough so that I felt another needle of ice dart up along my spine. The few times I'd been around Kieran before Sarah staked a claim on me, he'd seemed civil, not quite vanilla but certainly not too kinky and not a sadist at all, and pretty straight. I kept my eyes closed, trying not to let any of my dismay show on my face.
"Now you're just trying to scare him, hon. You'd better get going or you'll get there too late for dinner."
"Yeah, yeah. Stand up, boy." Her last words were clearly directed at me and I leaped to my feet, wrists crossed swiftly behind my back, watching her hands to make sure I didn't miss a non-verbal command. There was nothing, just a hug as she stepped close, a whispered order to 'be a good boy', and then she left the room. I didn't move until I heard the front door open and close.
As the distant click and rattle that hinted that the door had been locked from the outside sounded, I half-turned, then sank back to my knees, a more traditional pose this time, legs together, crossed wrists stretched forward and raised, my head bowed low between my extended arms. This was the position I'd been trained to think of as Submission, offering myself and my services to whoever my wrists were presented to.
One hand wrapped around my wrists, strong fingers holding them tight against each other, pushing them down while his other hand caught my chin and lifted it. My head rose, tilted back... and a breathless few seconds later, my lips were bruised with a rough, almost careless kiss. I didn't even try to stop the gasp of shock and pain, flinching away, letting my body say what I wasn't quite brave enough to speak aloud to someone so clearly in a position of power. He seemed to understand and was unoffended, releasing me swiftly and sitting back in his chair.
"That answers that question, I guess. Sorry, some of her boys are pretty thoroughly bi, and I'd prefer not to be surprised by someone crawling into my bed unexpectedly. If I actually order one of her toys to stay out of my bed though, she'll get pissy, and it'll be all sorts of unpleasant drama. Easier to just see whether or not I'll need to lock my door when I sleep."
I must have looked pretty shocked, because he started chuckling, clearly amused.
"What, going to try to claim you hadn't considered it? I know what kind of programming she beats into the heads of pretty boys like you. Plus you're rather visibly reacting."
It was all I could do to keep from covering my half-hard cock, afraid to say anything and even more afraid to do anything that might be interpreted as refusing him; as it was, I'm sure my flushed cheeks and worried expression were answer enough. He managed to bite back the laughter and nodded with something approaching sympathy.
"It's ok, I promise. I'm not gonna hurt you, or fuck you, or do much of anything else. I'm just here to make sure the cats are fed and to keep her from handing over someone as new as you to Aletose."
"Wha... Aletose is real?" If I'd had cat ears, they'd have been flat against my head. Aletose was something she'd occasionally threatened me with, but I'd somehow gotten the impression that she wasn't real, a boogeyman conjured up to scare me.
"Real enough," he responded, his tone flattening. Obviously this wasn't a subject he wanted to talk about, so I changed the subject, looking at him somewhat hesitantly.
"So... can I go put my pants back on now?"
He laughed, gesturing expansively with a wave of his hand. "Pants, shirt, socks, hell, you could put on a chicken costume and a scuba mask for all I care. Look, if you'll grab me the occasional beer and deal with the catbox, I'll call it plenty. I'll even... exaggerate a bit... when she gets back, let her know that you were well-behaved."
I grinned back at him, bowing with a flourish before scampering out of the room to reclaim my jeans. Sarah kept the house warm and the sun was shining in the eastward windows, so I didn't bother with a shirt. Just knowing I could if I wanted to was, for the moment, enough.
The first night was wonderful, a perfect vacation. We watched a couple of action flicks, Kieran drinking beer and my own beverage a jack and coke. Dinner was pizza, delivery, neither of us bothering to clean up afterward. By the time I stumbled off to bed I was drunk enough that I just collapsed on Sarah's king-size bed, too out of it to care where I slept.
He'd insisted I get a couple glasses of water in me before bed, so when I woke up I didn't even have a hangover. Breakfast was more of a brunch, lunch a lazy affair that consisted mostly of cold pizza, and dinner a shared masterpiece involving steak, salmon, truffles, and some leftover ice cream scrounged from the freezer. That night I went to bed sober, and although the bed was tempting, I realized I felt more comfortable in the cage. After a few minutes tossing and turning in the bed I gave in and crawled sleepily back to my normal sleeping spot, nestled among the blankets, my back pressed against the bars.
The third day we expected Sarah to return before lunch; a late-morning phone call informed us otherwise. Something had come up, and she would be staying a few more days. Kieran made some comment about me getting an extra-long break and I managed a laugh, but shortly excused myself and walked back to her room, claiming a headache.
I curled up in the cage, head resting on a folded blanket, the others drawn up snug around me. After only a few minutes I kicked them off and sat up, squirming out of the pants and shirt I had been wearing and tossing the clothing out of the cage. When I laid back down I first neatly folded and spread the blankets on the floor of the cage, then settled atop them, not trying to cover myself, laying as I knew she preferred. Vulnerable, shivering a bit, I stared up at the empty bed. When I next glanced at the bedside clock I realized nearly an hour had passed, and that my cheeks and the blanket being used as a pillow were both wet with tears.
I rubbed my eyes angrily, turning over abruptly and shaking my head, trying to put a stop to the irrational flood of emotions. So she was gone for a few days, so what? I should be happy to get such a long vacation. There was no reason to feel this... this lonely.
The moment I'd recognized what the feeling was I buried my head under the blankets, trembling. I hadn't thought she - or anyone - could matter this much to me. I certainly hadn't expected to miss her so much. It felt like I'd been abandoned, and there was a nasty suspicion in the back of my mind that she wouldn't be coming back, that she had decided I was too much trouble, that I wasn't good enough... that she was dropping me... that she didn't want me any more.
Keiran came in three times to check on me; I feigned sleep, once even managing a few passable snores. The last time he just turned off the light and murmured a good night, leaving the door open a crack when he was gone. I wriggled around in the cage, staring at the slit of light for a long time.
He wasn't interested in me, he wasn't interested in me, we were just friends. I kept chanting that under my breath as I crept out of the cage and down the hall to the room he was staying in.
When I got there, his door was half-open, his light off, the sound of deep breathing from the bed the only noise. I poked my head in; no change in his breathing, he was likely asleep. Silently I slipped in the rest of the way, padding on all fours to the thick rug at the side of the bed and settling down quietly. I finished adjusting my position and pillowed my head with my arms, peering up at the bed, taking comfort from the knowledge that I wasn't alone...
...and nearly gasping when I realized that he was half-raised, braced on one arm, the other having somehow drawn back the covers without making any sound to alert me to the fact that he was awake. He gave me the strangest look, a complex mix of emotions, among them something that I could only interpret as disappointment. I flinched, ducking my head, and started to crawl back to the empty cage.
"Wait. Boy... wait. It's ok."
I looked up, fearing to see pity or worse, disgust. Instead I saw a deep sadness, something I didn't understand. He continued speaking, quiet, his voice soothing.
"I understand. You miss her. You need her, and if you can't be near her, can't be her slave, you have to belong to somebody. Being alone hurts too much."
I was wide-eyed by the time he'd said that much, nodding tentatively, my own voice barely a whisper.
"I... I know you don't want me like that, a..and that's fine... I just... please, may I sleep on the floor in here tonight? I promise I won't make a sound, I'll be good..." I trailed off, embarrassed by the naked hope in my voice. He smiled, patting the bed.
"It's ok, boy. Come on, this is big enough for two. I've been where you are, I know you'll feel better if you're actually up here next to someone. Just promise not to rape me or anything, k?"
The last line managed to make me giggle - I couldn't even manage to keep from trembling, I sure as hell wasn't much of a threat to anyone stronger and more alert than a soggy dust bunny. He was right, too; all I wanted right then was to cling to someone, it didn't matter who, I just needed to know that I wasn't alone. With somewhat embarrassing swiftness I climbed up into the bed, sliding my naked body between the crisp linen sheets and settling with my back to him, not brave enough to scoot any closer.
A gentle arm circled my waist, drawing me back firmly against him. He was warm, relaxed, not a trace of anything sexual in the gesture, just reassurance. With a blissful sigh I let myself relax in turn, spine against his chest, hips spooned against hips, my head half-resting on the arm he'd left laying along the bed. It wasn't more than five minutes before I was sound asleep.
I had, caught up in the loneliness, forgotten something rather essential. It was brought quite firmly to my attention, pardon the pun, when I woke the next morning.
I had been dreaming of Sarah, rehashing the first night I spent in her bed, and I drifted from the memory of her hands on my body to the reality of a hand around my cock. For a minute, dazed, I thought it was mine, that I'd been playing with myself in my sleep. As I continued to climb up into consciousness I realized that it was not, and that I had been arching my back, thrusting my hips for longer than I'd been awake, not trying to push into the hand... rather, I was pushing back as Sarah had only recently begun training me to do, pressing against what in the dream had been one of her toys.
I shuddered, freezing instantly, not even the continued pleasure of skilled fingers on my flesh managing to keep me hard. He said he wasn't... he couldn't...
There was a drowsy, murmured grumble from behind me and I risked a glance over my shoulder. Kieran was clearly still sound asleep, lost in a dream of his own, fumbling now with his hand as he tried to continue with what I was guessing he thought was masturbation. I bit my lip, not wanting to displease someone who had been so thoughtful and kind, but unwilling to play the part of a slut for someone who didn't own me and was decidedly the wrong gender for my tastes.
Just as I was about to try turning over, hoping the motion would wake him, I felt my head being pulled back. His other arm, the one that had not been curled around my hip, had been under the pillows and was now atop them, his fingers grasping my hair, drawing me forcefully back against him. I couldn't help the tiny gasp of pleasure - I was still just drowsy enough to be unable to quite separate myself from the idea that it was Sarah holding me so tightly - and at the noise he burrowed his face into the crook of my neck, muttering a name that was not mine.
I flinched; it was one I'd only heard a few times before and one that I'd come to associate with jealousy, with the feeling that I could never measure up. Sarah's last slaveboy had worn that name. Another near-instinctive reaction kicked in and before I had time to consciously think about it, I was arching back against him again, squirming, writhing, my treacherous body trying to prove that I was better than the faceless slave I'd been struggling to replace.
He moaned, half-purring the name again, his free hand grasping my hip now rather than my cock, pushing me snug against him. I could feel myself getting hard again and I silently cursed myself for it, hating the reaction that I knew quite well had been trained into me and hating myself for being such a stupid boy, getting into this situation in the first place. I already knew that if I tried to stop now, I'd feel I'd somehow failed, that I hadn't measured up to who I was so constantly compared to... that I wasn't good enough... and after last night, I couldn't bear to feel like that again.
I shoved my fingers in my mouth, stifling the whimper that was trying to escape while I slicked them up, tongue running over them with an urgency that embarrassed me. When they were soaked with spit, I worked my hand carefully down between my legs, struggling to give myself what lubrication I could. Sarah had taken me dry a few times, when I'd been fussing and struggling too much to let her lube her toy and when she was too eager to make me scream to care about my comfort, and I had no desire to repeat that particular pain.
My hand was withdrawn just in time, Kieran's firm grasp repositioning me abruptly even as my fingers slipped free, the unmistakable pressure of a rock-hard cock spreading me open. This time I couldn't keep myself quiet, whimpering openly, suddenly terrified of what was about to happen. No matter how I tried justifying it to myself, it was still something I knew I didn't want, something not even Sarah had gotten me to agree to. Previous decisions overturned, I started to struggle in earnest, twisting away.
That seemed to have been the wrong choice. With a final hissed exclamation, that hated name again, he drove himself almost full-length into me with a single violent thrust. I felt my tender skin tear slightly, liquid welling in my eyes, clutching desperately at the pillow as he shifted to turn me onto my stomach. He moved as well, pinning me down on the bed now, his hands fumbling for something at my throat, fingers trying to wrap around it. Instead of what he'd apparently been expecting to encounter, they met sturdy leather... ran over it, his body suddenly motionless... and then I could feel the shift in his posture as he started to fully wake, looking down at me, hands still at my throat, cock deep in my ass. I buried my face in the pillow, unwilling to look at him, afraid of what I'd see. Now that he knew it was me, would he be disgusted? Disappointed? Abruptly my mind did another 180 and it was all I could do to keep from crying openly now. He wasn't satisfied, he was going to push me away, throw me out, I wasn't good enough...
...and that was enough to get me to move, my body again arching, hips lifting up off the sheets, trying to show him that I would do whatever pleased him. When that brought no reaction I turned my head, eyes tightly closed, forcing out the words that I both wanted to say and wanted to keep from saying.
"Please... please don't stop..."
I felt him tremble, felt his hips shift, his desire obvious. It was all the encouragement I needed to speak again, the words tumbling out now, body still in constant motion.
"Please, use me, I need to be used... let me serve you, please, your slave begs to be used... please, Master."
That was enough, it seemed. He rocked back, then forward, pulling out just enough to be able to drive himself into me with even more force than that first agonizing thrust. Another followed, and another, and by now I was panting, reduced to near-incoherant moaning, a 'please' managing to escape every now and then, my body so aroused that I was certain if he stopped now I would die of desire. Some distant portion of my mind recognized this too as something that wouldn't have happened a year ago; it didn't matter. All that mattered was hearing him gasp with pleasure, feeling him growing somehow even harder, fucking me with a strength and determination that even Sarah had only occasionally shown. There was no doubt in my mind that right now, he wanted ME... no one else, nothing else, and he confirmed that as he suddenly froze, tensing... then with what felt like an explosion of heat he came, screaming my old name, no other word on his lips as he collapsed on top of me, trembling with the force of his release.
In the aftermath of his orgasm it was all I could do not to cry; relief, shame, fear, arousal, too many emotions to process flooded my mind. I could barely even think... though I did manage somewhere in the chaos to hear the tiny voice saying, "That felt good, didn't it? Better than toys, better than Sarah, that felt good." I lay motionless under him, my still-hard cock pinned beneath us both. I wanted to move, to grind my hips against the sheets, against him, I wanted to feel a hand around me, I... I wanted to cum. I wanted it more than I realized I could want it.
Then I realized something else, something that had been nagging at me for several minutes. He'd screamed something, a name, not the one I currently bore and not the name of what I'd come to regard as my arch-enemy. He'd called me by the name I still wore when we first met. More than ever now I wanted to crawl away and hide. I couldn't, not with him trapping me on the bed and not with an order left un-followed. Sarah had been very specific about this one, and I knew she'd ask when she returned, she always did. Timidly I turned my head, looking back toward Kieran.
Drowsy, gleaming eyes met mine and I gulped, feeling as if I was choking on the words I needed to say. It took me a couple of tries to get anything at all past my lips.
"I... Kieran... um... thatisn'tmynameanymore," I stammered, then buried my face in the sheets again, somehow more embarrassed by what I just said than by the fact that he was sti... oh gods, he was still in me, he was inside me, he... I... but...
When my brain finally managed to function again it was just in time to hear him speak. His tone was gentle, apologetic.
"I know, and I'm sorry I slipped up. I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly. I-I'm sorry about..." he gestured, taking in us, the bed, the entire morning, "...I don't know what to say. I didn't intend..." His voice trailed off and he shifted, pulling carefully out of me before practically leaping off the bed. As he entered the bathroom I slid out of bed, nearly running out the door, heading back to what my mind registered as safety.
I spent the next hour alternately crying and cursing, curled up inside my cage, wrapped in a soft, almost furry blanket with my entire body covered. No light, nothing outside the dark little cave of cloth, only myself and my thoughts. After an hour, I heard footsteps enter the room. I could tell they weren't Sarah's, I would recognize hers anywhere, which meant they had to be Kiharn's.
The footsteps came over to the cage, paused a moment, then retreated slightly. There was a creak of springs as he sat on the bed. I shifted slightly, not quite willing to leave the security of my lightless shelter, fighting my instinctive urge to look at the bed, checking to see if Sarah wanted anything.
"Why didn't you refuse, boy?" His voice was quiet, again touched with that odd sadness.
"...Sarah wouldn't have wanted me to refuse you anything," I replied, my voice somewhat muffled by the blanket.
"She hasn't broken you that completely. You've still got a soul behind those eyes of yours. So, why didn't you refuse?"
It was harder to answer this time, knowing that he would keep pressing until he heard the truth.
"I was... you mentioned Rayne... you called me Rayne while you were still asleep I guess, while you were... touching me." I could almost feel his gaze burning through the blanket.
"That's not all, is it?"
"...no. It was at first, wanting to be better than him, and not wanting to disappoint you when you'd been so nice to me, and... and knowing that Sarah will only be upset because she didn't get to see it-" He started chuckling at that last bit, but quickly managed to silence himself, clearly waiting for me to continue.
"Then... then it just felt... good. Right. I didn't want it to end, I..."
After a minute or two of silence, he again verbally prodded me.
"You...?"
"I've never been fucked like that by anyone except Sarah. It was different than what I'd expected, better, easier. It felt like I was... whole." I dug further under my blankets, unwilling to let him see how much I was blushing. "Please don't tell her I said that. It'll just piss her off."
"Don't worry," and now his voice held more than a hint of warmth and pleasure, "I won't do anything that's likely to convince her to keep you where I can't see you occasionally. I know what it's like, and I won't leave you to face the wolves alone."
Baffled, my head popped out from under the pile of blankets to stare at him. He seemed completely serious.
"Wolves? What? You know what what's like?"
"I know what it's like to be Owned. For that matter, I know what it's like to be Owned by her. Look," he gestured toward his left thigh. I pressed against the cage bars to get a better look... then nearly fell backward as I realized just what I was looking at. Her Mark, set into his flesh. Not a tattoo like the one she'd taken me to get, but a deep, pale scar that screamed branding iron. She'd threatened a few times that if I didn't behave, she'd have me branded... I hadn't thought she meant it, at the time. Now... now if she threatened that, I'd be begging in terror for mercy.
"She... you never told me she Owned you."
"How could I? Until recently you were young enough and seemingly safe from her, and I wanted to keep it that way. Once she met you and started Hunting you, I didn't dare bring it up... she made it VERY clear that if I interfered, I'd end up taking your place. And now that she Owns you... there just hasn't been a good time to talk about it. You're almost always with her."
"How long?" I asked, barely able to form the question, afraid of the answer.
"Seven years wearing her collar. Two years about as free as it's possible to be after she's left her mark on you."
"Then you knew Rayne."
He just nodded, staring down at the floor, clearly lost in thought. I stretched, curled back up, and prepared to wait. It didn't take more than ten minutes before he looked back up at me.
"Yeah, you could say I knew Rayne. He was Sarah's favorite for... what, five years? Something like that. I think she actually loved him. He couldn't bear to belong to her after a while, though... she didn't just break him, she used him to break other slaves, forced him to hurt them while she watched.
"She was nothing if not thorough; everything was drilled into him, everything. You think you're suffering sometimes? You feel like you can't take it, like you want to go back to being who you were before she found you? Rayne couldn't. By the time she was done, all he could remember were faint glimmerings of his life before her. He had no other name, no other place, he was NOTHING but her property."
Puzzled, I asked, "So if he was that broken, how did he manage to leave?"
"It was when he realized that he couldn't remember the name he had worn before meeting her. He went to her, begging to be told what it was. She..." he shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake free of some unpleasant thought. "She beat him until he couldn't even walk, then told him that if he was so interested in a name other than the one she chose for him, so be it. She spit a name at him and told him he should leave.
"He did leave, as you know, and when he left he intended to make his way to the other side of the world if he had to, anything to get away from her. He got as far as the train station before he snapped. He ran back to her, begging for forgiveness, asking her to take him back. She refused."
"What happened then?" I was entranced, having heard bits of this before but never anything close to the whole story; Sarah didn't like to talk about it. "Did he leave again? Did he kill himself? She's never told me what happened to him."
"No, he's still alive. After a few months he approached her again, asking for friendship instead of ownership, and she agreed. He still wishes sometimes that he could turn back time and never ask that stupid question... hell, he didn't even get a real answer, he's never been sure if the name she called him when he left was his real name, or just a joke on her part."
The suspicion that had been forming while he spoke was cemented with those last few lines. He was watching me now, waiting... something in my expression must have given it away.
"Yeah."
"But... then why did you say his...your... that name?" I asked, still confused somewhat.
"Old habit. It's how she took away the name I used to have, part of it, anyway."
This time when he fell silent I didn't ask anything else, unwilling to interrupt the quiet, needing the chance to piece together what I knew of my friend Keiran and what I'd heard about Rayne. My mind was racing; why hadn't she told me? She'd talked about him like he was dead. Finally I shook my head once, emphatically, and burrowed back under the blankets, my words again muffled.
"I need time to think about this. I just... please, let me be alone for a while."
He didn't respond, just stood up and walked slowly out of the room, closing the door behind him.
There'll be more added as it comes - this is just the first five sections.
"No woman likes to see another taking her place."
It was a Tuesday when I told Sarah that I was leaving. I had already packed what few possessions I could lay claim to - three pairs of pants, six shirts, a leather belt, a pair of well-worn sneakers, nine socks, a plain navy blue tie, my old leather jacket, all of it stuffed in a backpack that had been put up in the attic and forgotten about for nearly three years. That, and what I was wearing, and the journals that I had so carefully hidden, was the entirety of my worldly goods.
I told her calmly, my voice level, careful to keep every trace of fear out of my tone. I met her eyes; that alone took so much effort that I thought at times I was going to faint, but I did it, my gaze never left hers. I told her that I was done, that I couldn't bear to stay even a moment more, that I never wanted to see her again.
I took off the slender strip of leather that for three years had been around my throat, and I handed it to her. When I'd imagined the moment, I had dreamed of throwing it to the ground, dropping it where I stood perhaps, or tossing it carelessly over my shoulder, but I realized as I stripped myself of its protection that I could not treat it so casually. Instead I held it out, my hand trembling slightly, suddenly afraid that she would refuse to take it. I didn't know what I would do if she did... but she reached out as well, took the collar, and for several minutes she sat there, turning it over in her hands, not saying anything.
"Is there anything you need? Bus fare, a hotel room, use of the car, perhaps," she asked, the words quiet enough that I had to strain to hear them. I had half-expected this and shook my head.
"No, m- no. I've got a ride, and somewhere to stay, and I start my new job on Monday. I'll be fine." There was another long pause, then she asked the question I'd been waiting for.
"Why?"
"...because I'm not a slave. I can't be any more. It hurts too much, it's too hard, I just... I can't belong to you, to anyone. I need to be free. I need a life of my own."
"So you're not just leaving me for another woman?" There was laughter in her voice now, faint, but clear enough to me, accustomed to paying close attention to even the tiniest shift in tone that might indicate a sudden mood change or a new whim.
"Of course not. I'm going to stay with Kieran, he's got that spare room and he's willing to let me stay for free until I start getting my paychecks, then he's just asking a small amount in rent. I'm used to sleeping on the floor so the sofa in there will be more than fine for a bed."
Kieran Tsinju was someone that I'd come to consider a friend over the last two years. I hadn't really known him, despite seeing him around fairly often; we hung out in many of the same places, but somehow never quite got around to talking. That changed after I moved in with Sarah.
She had told me when I first came to her House that the only place I would have there was a pet, a well-trained animal there for her amusement. I had thought, when I'd thought about it at all, that she meant I was supposed to be obedient and act the part of a cute housepet at times to entertain her, that it was just a game. I got my first taste of just how seriously she intended it the first time she had to leave town for a few days. She wasn't going far, traveling down to the coast to spend some time visiting old friends, and at first I had expected to go with her. When she told me she would be leaving me at home I'd looked forward to that, already eager to have a break from the submission she demanded.
Just two hours before she was to leave, there was a knock on the door. One of my tasks was to play footman, so I hurried to the door, hopping quickly into the pair of tight jeans that were kept folded on the small table beside it, the only clothing I was allowed to wear in the house. I had barely got them zipped up when there was a second round of knocking and I cursed, not keeping it quiet as I knew she was unlikely to hear me from the room she was in. Swearing was on the list of things that were likely to leave me without dinner or with a sore ass, and already I'd gotten used to biting my tongue whenever I suspected she might overhear.
I took a deep breath, brushed the hair out of my eyes, and opened the door. I'm not sure who I was expecting, perhaps Kate, her blonde and buxom ride to the coast, showing up early, but what greeted me was wavy red hair, a smiling mouth of white teeth, a faded and scuffed pair of leather combat boots, no breasts whatsoever, and an open-palmed slap.
"I know Sarah'd have your hide if she heard you cussing, boy. No swearing, no yelling, no eye contact, proper speech... she's letting you wear clothing when you answer the door at least, you must have been well-behaved recently... and I can see that you've been all dolled up too. How flattering." His voice was warm but firm, and I started to look up at him, wanting to get a better look at his face, his eyes, wondering if he was joking with me. Just in time, I remembered the still-stinging handprint on my cheek. He may have sounded friendly but clearly he knew Sarah's rules and knew as well that I was a slave.
I'd only gotten as far along that chain of thoughts as the realization that he had noticed the trace of eyeshadow and lipstick Sarah had insisted I wear when his voice cut in again, snapping me back to the present with a single word, a command that so far I had only heard from my Mistress's lips.
"Strip."
I blushed bright red, unable to keep from glaring at him now, my hands rather protectively covering the button and zipper of my jeans. It had taken me a solid week to earn the right to wear them, and I wasn't about to take them off in front of another man without a direct order from Sarah. I nearly hissed my next words.
"I'll let m'Lady know you are here. Who shall I tell her is calling?"
He laughed outright, stepping past me and walking down the hall leading to the library while he answered, "Kieran Tsinju, as I'm quite sure you know, and I'll tell her myself. I'm sure she'll be interested to know how her property is behaving."
I followed, suddenly wary. Something in his tone finally registered and I was now fairly sure I was going to be in a lot of trouble if he told Sarah that I'd disobeyed an order. I couldn't bring myself to say anything; this was still very early in my training, and my pride kept me from speaking. Fortunately, my survival instinct overruled it enough to let a whimper squeak out. Kieran glanced back over his shoulder, saw the pleading expression on my face, turned, and took the few steps back to where I was standing.
"You're still new, so I'll cut you some slack. She'll be happier with both of us if she thinks you've been behaving, it'll make her proud. So, I'll ask you once more... strip." He was nearly whispering, quiet enough that I was certain she couldn't have overheard, and this time I fought down my nervousness and fumbled with my jeans. A moment later they were off, a few seconds after that saw them folded and placed back beside the door, and barely 30 seconds after the order had been given, I was kneeling, naked, head bowed, murmuring my thanks for his kindness. Kieran ruffled my hair and gestured for me to rise.
"Don't worry, kid. Just keep it up for a couple hours more, then you can relax. Now come on, you can lead the way." With those last whispered words, he gestured toward the far end of the hall where the door to the library stood half-open, waiting. I started to climb to my feet, then remembered another rule she had given recently - when I was on my knees, I was not to rise until given permission - and instead dropped to all fours, scrambling down the hall as quick as I could, struggling to keep ahead of him as he walked quickly toward the library.
I reached the library door several seconds before Kieran and slipped through it, nudging it open with my shoulder and hip as I passed, making sure it would be open when he arrived. Beyond that, I didn't bother doing anything else to announce him, just scuttled straight to Sarah and pressed my face against her legs, cuddling up against them as if I were a frightened puppy. As I'd hoped, this amused her enough that by the time Kieran was standing before her my head was on her lap, her hand in my hair, and she hadn't noticed the handprint on my cheek.
"Well? What do you think of him?"
"A bit slow on the uptake, perhaps, but I can tell he's already learned quite a bit. You're a good teacher, Sarah."
Soft laughter on her part, then, "Thank you, you flatter me as always. So are you still willing to keep an eye on my pets while I'm gone?"
"Of course. Same rules as always?"
"No blood, food and water as long as they behave, clean the litter box once, no parties, help yourself to anything in the fridge."
My head had lifted slightly at the mention of pets, then settled back down when he talked about the litter box - she must have changed her mind about bringing me, I thought, and had asked him to come keep an eye on her two cats. That idea was rubbed out of existence a moment later.
"He's never been with anyone but me before, so be somewhat gentle with him. I want him in one piece."
"Of course. Don't I always take good care of your pets for you?" His voice still had that warmth, oddly comforting, and a strange contrast to the sudden shock of cold I felt running down my spine. I raised my head again, this time turning to look at Sarah, too frightened to remember to keep my eyes down. Unfortunately, she saw not only that slip, but the handprint on my cheek as well. She pushed me away and I flinched, nearly falling back against Kieran, then skittering away from him to settle equidistant between the two of them, trembling. I knew quite well just how quickly my Owner's amusement could turn to displeasure and how swiftly punishment would follow.
"Boy, what did you do to earn the slap?"
I started to answer, about to confess to all of the errors I'd made, when he cut me off.
"I just wanted to make it clear from the get-go that I was in charge, hon. He didn't do anything wrong; he was even opening the door by the time I started to knock a second time, I nearly knocked on his nose."
I snuck a glance up at him in time to catch him smiling down at me, perfectly calm, looking for all the world as if he was telling nothing but the truth. This time I did look at her when I spoke, careful to keep my words to something that would sound like begging, one of the only times when I was allowed to raise my eyes.
"Please, Mistress, your pet no doubt will do something to deserve the slap soon if he hasn't already, but he tries to be a good boy..." I let my voice trail off into a tiny whimper, wriggling in lieu of wagging the tail I didn't have. As I'd hoped, this won me a smile and the slightest of nods, indicating forgiveness.
"I'm sure you'll earn it and more by the time the day's over, little one. Still, I can see you're doing your best to obey, and that is enough to please me. So you know, Kieran will be staying here while I'm gone, pet-sitting. You are to do whatever he commands, to please him as you would me, and if when I come back he says you've been a well-behaved slaveboy, I might even give you a treat."
I squirmed again, smiling in earnest; when Sarah decided I deserved a treat she always managed to find something that thrilled me, the perfect little gift, or some time spent just playing, being friends rather than Mistress and slave. Whatever my prize was to be, I knew I would enjoy it...
...and that if I failed to earn it, my punishment would be as unpleasant as the prize would be pleasant.
The next two hours passed rather swiftly; I spent most of the time away from the two of them, bringing in Kieran's luggage from his car and carting it up to the largest guest bedroom, packing Sarah a lunch to take with her and preparing one for Kieran to be served here, making a fresh pitcher of iced tea, and carrying more luggage, Sarah's bags taken out to the car she planned to drive and a few presents for friends packed as well. Roughly five minutes before she needed to leave, I was summoned back into the library by the faint chiming of the little trinket attached to my collar.
Sarah had given me my bell after the first two weeks of training, when I was first allowed to roam the House freely and was no longer chained into the cage beside her bed each night. I still slept there most nights and spent much of my days sitting near her, waiting for any command she might wish to give me, but occasionally I would simply wander through the various rooms and gardens. My favorite little den was in the garden at the center of the House, a tiny nook hidden behind several large flowering shrubs. There was a patch of soft moss, a tiny brook, and a scattering of wild strawberries that left the air sweet and fragrant even when there was no fruit to be seen. Often I would settle myself on the mossy bed and catnap, savoring the peaceful moments.
Inevitably, my rest was ended by the soft chimes from my bell. It was actually closer to a pager, designed to look like an old-fashioned brass and enamel bell like the ones that might be found on cat collars. My Mistress could either press the button on the slender wand of a remote that she usually carried in her pocket, or dial the pager number from any phone she happened to be near. When it started to ring I knew I was commanded to return, and that if I was in the same building as she was, I had ten run-throughs of its' little pattern before I would be disciplined for arriving late.
I made it back this time with five rings to spare, padding into the library and sinking swiftly into nadu, kneeling with my legs spread wide, ass resting on my heels, back arched, head raised proudly while my gaze remained politely downward, and hands resting palm-up on my thighs. I'd glanced at a clock as I ran for the library and knew Sarah would be on her way out the door, so instead of kneeling at her feet as was my usual position, I took up my pose beside Kieran's chair, facing my already-standing Owner.
"Looks like he's already pretty comfortable with me," laughed Kieran, ruffling my hair. My eyes closed and I leaned into the caress, murring affectionately.
"That's a good sign; just remember, I want him intact. No blood, no serious damage, no scars." Her voice was matter-of-fact, enough so that I felt another needle of ice dart up along my spine. The few times I'd been around Kieran before Sarah staked a claim on me, he'd seemed civil, not quite vanilla but certainly not too kinky and not a sadist at all, and pretty straight. I kept my eyes closed, trying not to let any of my dismay show on my face.
"Now you're just trying to scare him, hon. You'd better get going or you'll get there too late for dinner."
"Yeah, yeah. Stand up, boy." Her last words were clearly directed at me and I leaped to my feet, wrists crossed swiftly behind my back, watching her hands to make sure I didn't miss a non-verbal command. There was nothing, just a hug as she stepped close, a whispered order to 'be a good boy', and then she left the room. I didn't move until I heard the front door open and close.
As the distant click and rattle that hinted that the door had been locked from the outside sounded, I half-turned, then sank back to my knees, a more traditional pose this time, legs together, crossed wrists stretched forward and raised, my head bowed low between my extended arms. This was the position I'd been trained to think of as Submission, offering myself and my services to whoever my wrists were presented to.
One hand wrapped around my wrists, strong fingers holding them tight against each other, pushing them down while his other hand caught my chin and lifted it. My head rose, tilted back... and a breathless few seconds later, my lips were bruised with a rough, almost careless kiss. I didn't even try to stop the gasp of shock and pain, flinching away, letting my body say what I wasn't quite brave enough to speak aloud to someone so clearly in a position of power. He seemed to understand and was unoffended, releasing me swiftly and sitting back in his chair.
"That answers that question, I guess. Sorry, some of her boys are pretty thoroughly bi, and I'd prefer not to be surprised by someone crawling into my bed unexpectedly. If I actually order one of her toys to stay out of my bed though, she'll get pissy, and it'll be all sorts of unpleasant drama. Easier to just see whether or not I'll need to lock my door when I sleep."
I must have looked pretty shocked, because he started chuckling, clearly amused.
"What, going to try to claim you hadn't considered it? I know what kind of programming she beats into the heads of pretty boys like you. Plus you're rather visibly reacting."
It was all I could do to keep from covering my half-hard cock, afraid to say anything and even more afraid to do anything that might be interpreted as refusing him; as it was, I'm sure my flushed cheeks and worried expression were answer enough. He managed to bite back the laughter and nodded with something approaching sympathy.
"It's ok, I promise. I'm not gonna hurt you, or fuck you, or do much of anything else. I'm just here to make sure the cats are fed and to keep her from handing over someone as new as you to Aletose."
"Wha... Aletose is real?" If I'd had cat ears, they'd have been flat against my head. Aletose was something she'd occasionally threatened me with, but I'd somehow gotten the impression that she wasn't real, a boogeyman conjured up to scare me.
"Real enough," he responded, his tone flattening. Obviously this wasn't a subject he wanted to talk about, so I changed the subject, looking at him somewhat hesitantly.
"So... can I go put my pants back on now?"
He laughed, gesturing expansively with a wave of his hand. "Pants, shirt, socks, hell, you could put on a chicken costume and a scuba mask for all I care. Look, if you'll grab me the occasional beer and deal with the catbox, I'll call it plenty. I'll even... exaggerate a bit... when she gets back, let her know that you were well-behaved."
I grinned back at him, bowing with a flourish before scampering out of the room to reclaim my jeans. Sarah kept the house warm and the sun was shining in the eastward windows, so I didn't bother with a shirt. Just knowing I could if I wanted to was, for the moment, enough.
The first night was wonderful, a perfect vacation. We watched a couple of action flicks, Kieran drinking beer and my own beverage a jack and coke. Dinner was pizza, delivery, neither of us bothering to clean up afterward. By the time I stumbled off to bed I was drunk enough that I just collapsed on Sarah's king-size bed, too out of it to care where I slept.
He'd insisted I get a couple glasses of water in me before bed, so when I woke up I didn't even have a hangover. Breakfast was more of a brunch, lunch a lazy affair that consisted mostly of cold pizza, and dinner a shared masterpiece involving steak, salmon, truffles, and some leftover ice cream scrounged from the freezer. That night I went to bed sober, and although the bed was tempting, I realized I felt more comfortable in the cage. After a few minutes tossing and turning in the bed I gave in and crawled sleepily back to my normal sleeping spot, nestled among the blankets, my back pressed against the bars.
The third day we expected Sarah to return before lunch; a late-morning phone call informed us otherwise. Something had come up, and she would be staying a few more days. Kieran made some comment about me getting an extra-long break and I managed a laugh, but shortly excused myself and walked back to her room, claiming a headache.
I curled up in the cage, head resting on a folded blanket, the others drawn up snug around me. After only a few minutes I kicked them off and sat up, squirming out of the pants and shirt I had been wearing and tossing the clothing out of the cage. When I laid back down I first neatly folded and spread the blankets on the floor of the cage, then settled atop them, not trying to cover myself, laying as I knew she preferred. Vulnerable, shivering a bit, I stared up at the empty bed. When I next glanced at the bedside clock I realized nearly an hour had passed, and that my cheeks and the blanket being used as a pillow were both wet with tears.
I rubbed my eyes angrily, turning over abruptly and shaking my head, trying to put a stop to the irrational flood of emotions. So she was gone for a few days, so what? I should be happy to get such a long vacation. There was no reason to feel this... this lonely.
The moment I'd recognized what the feeling was I buried my head under the blankets, trembling. I hadn't thought she - or anyone - could matter this much to me. I certainly hadn't expected to miss her so much. It felt like I'd been abandoned, and there was a nasty suspicion in the back of my mind that she wouldn't be coming back, that she had decided I was too much trouble, that I wasn't good enough... that she was dropping me... that she didn't want me any more.
Keiran came in three times to check on me; I feigned sleep, once even managing a few passable snores. The last time he just turned off the light and murmured a good night, leaving the door open a crack when he was gone. I wriggled around in the cage, staring at the slit of light for a long time.
He wasn't interested in me, he wasn't interested in me, we were just friends. I kept chanting that under my breath as I crept out of the cage and down the hall to the room he was staying in.
When I got there, his door was half-open, his light off, the sound of deep breathing from the bed the only noise. I poked my head in; no change in his breathing, he was likely asleep. Silently I slipped in the rest of the way, padding on all fours to the thick rug at the side of the bed and settling down quietly. I finished adjusting my position and pillowed my head with my arms, peering up at the bed, taking comfort from the knowledge that I wasn't alone...
...and nearly gasping when I realized that he was half-raised, braced on one arm, the other having somehow drawn back the covers without making any sound to alert me to the fact that he was awake. He gave me the strangest look, a complex mix of emotions, among them something that I could only interpret as disappointment. I flinched, ducking my head, and started to crawl back to the empty cage.
"Wait. Boy... wait. It's ok."
I looked up, fearing to see pity or worse, disgust. Instead I saw a deep sadness, something I didn't understand. He continued speaking, quiet, his voice soothing.
"I understand. You miss her. You need her, and if you can't be near her, can't be her slave, you have to belong to somebody. Being alone hurts too much."
I was wide-eyed by the time he'd said that much, nodding tentatively, my own voice barely a whisper.
"I... I know you don't want me like that, a..and that's fine... I just... please, may I sleep on the floor in here tonight? I promise I won't make a sound, I'll be good..." I trailed off, embarrassed by the naked hope in my voice. He smiled, patting the bed.
"It's ok, boy. Come on, this is big enough for two. I've been where you are, I know you'll feel better if you're actually up here next to someone. Just promise not to rape me or anything, k?"
The last line managed to make me giggle - I couldn't even manage to keep from trembling, I sure as hell wasn't much of a threat to anyone stronger and more alert than a soggy dust bunny. He was right, too; all I wanted right then was to cling to someone, it didn't matter who, I just needed to know that I wasn't alone. With somewhat embarrassing swiftness I climbed up into the bed, sliding my naked body between the crisp linen sheets and settling with my back to him, not brave enough to scoot any closer.
A gentle arm circled my waist, drawing me back firmly against him. He was warm, relaxed, not a trace of anything sexual in the gesture, just reassurance. With a blissful sigh I let myself relax in turn, spine against his chest, hips spooned against hips, my head half-resting on the arm he'd left laying along the bed. It wasn't more than five minutes before I was sound asleep.
I had, caught up in the loneliness, forgotten something rather essential. It was brought quite firmly to my attention, pardon the pun, when I woke the next morning.
I had been dreaming of Sarah, rehashing the first night I spent in her bed, and I drifted from the memory of her hands on my body to the reality of a hand around my cock. For a minute, dazed, I thought it was mine, that I'd been playing with myself in my sleep. As I continued to climb up into consciousness I realized that it was not, and that I had been arching my back, thrusting my hips for longer than I'd been awake, not trying to push into the hand... rather, I was pushing back as Sarah had only recently begun training me to do, pressing against what in the dream had been one of her toys.
I shuddered, freezing instantly, not even the continued pleasure of skilled fingers on my flesh managing to keep me hard. He said he wasn't... he couldn't...
There was a drowsy, murmured grumble from behind me and I risked a glance over my shoulder. Kieran was clearly still sound asleep, lost in a dream of his own, fumbling now with his hand as he tried to continue with what I was guessing he thought was masturbation. I bit my lip, not wanting to displease someone who had been so thoughtful and kind, but unwilling to play the part of a slut for someone who didn't own me and was decidedly the wrong gender for my tastes.
Just as I was about to try turning over, hoping the motion would wake him, I felt my head being pulled back. His other arm, the one that had not been curled around my hip, had been under the pillows and was now atop them, his fingers grasping my hair, drawing me forcefully back against him. I couldn't help the tiny gasp of pleasure - I was still just drowsy enough to be unable to quite separate myself from the idea that it was Sarah holding me so tightly - and at the noise he burrowed his face into the crook of my neck, muttering a name that was not mine.
I flinched; it was one I'd only heard a few times before and one that I'd come to associate with jealousy, with the feeling that I could never measure up. Sarah's last slaveboy had worn that name. Another near-instinctive reaction kicked in and before I had time to consciously think about it, I was arching back against him again, squirming, writhing, my treacherous body trying to prove that I was better than the faceless slave I'd been struggling to replace.
He moaned, half-purring the name again, his free hand grasping my hip now rather than my cock, pushing me snug against him. I could feel myself getting hard again and I silently cursed myself for it, hating the reaction that I knew quite well had been trained into me and hating myself for being such a stupid boy, getting into this situation in the first place. I already knew that if I tried to stop now, I'd feel I'd somehow failed, that I hadn't measured up to who I was so constantly compared to... that I wasn't good enough... and after last night, I couldn't bear to feel like that again.
I shoved my fingers in my mouth, stifling the whimper that was trying to escape while I slicked them up, tongue running over them with an urgency that embarrassed me. When they were soaked with spit, I worked my hand carefully down between my legs, struggling to give myself what lubrication I could. Sarah had taken me dry a few times, when I'd been fussing and struggling too much to let her lube her toy and when she was too eager to make me scream to care about my comfort, and I had no desire to repeat that particular pain.
My hand was withdrawn just in time, Kieran's firm grasp repositioning me abruptly even as my fingers slipped free, the unmistakable pressure of a rock-hard cock spreading me open. This time I couldn't keep myself quiet, whimpering openly, suddenly terrified of what was about to happen. No matter how I tried justifying it to myself, it was still something I knew I didn't want, something not even Sarah had gotten me to agree to. Previous decisions overturned, I started to struggle in earnest, twisting away.
That seemed to have been the wrong choice. With a final hissed exclamation, that hated name again, he drove himself almost full-length into me with a single violent thrust. I felt my tender skin tear slightly, liquid welling in my eyes, clutching desperately at the pillow as he shifted to turn me onto my stomach. He moved as well, pinning me down on the bed now, his hands fumbling for something at my throat, fingers trying to wrap around it. Instead of what he'd apparently been expecting to encounter, they met sturdy leather... ran over it, his body suddenly motionless... and then I could feel the shift in his posture as he started to fully wake, looking down at me, hands still at my throat, cock deep in my ass. I buried my face in the pillow, unwilling to look at him, afraid of what I'd see. Now that he knew it was me, would he be disgusted? Disappointed? Abruptly my mind did another 180 and it was all I could do to keep from crying openly now. He wasn't satisfied, he was going to push me away, throw me out, I wasn't good enough...
...and that was enough to get me to move, my body again arching, hips lifting up off the sheets, trying to show him that I would do whatever pleased him. When that brought no reaction I turned my head, eyes tightly closed, forcing out the words that I both wanted to say and wanted to keep from saying.
"Please... please don't stop..."
I felt him tremble, felt his hips shift, his desire obvious. It was all the encouragement I needed to speak again, the words tumbling out now, body still in constant motion.
"Please, use me, I need to be used... let me serve you, please, your slave begs to be used... please, Master."
That was enough, it seemed. He rocked back, then forward, pulling out just enough to be able to drive himself into me with even more force than that first agonizing thrust. Another followed, and another, and by now I was panting, reduced to near-incoherant moaning, a 'please' managing to escape every now and then, my body so aroused that I was certain if he stopped now I would die of desire. Some distant portion of my mind recognized this too as something that wouldn't have happened a year ago; it didn't matter. All that mattered was hearing him gasp with pleasure, feeling him growing somehow even harder, fucking me with a strength and determination that even Sarah had only occasionally shown. There was no doubt in my mind that right now, he wanted ME... no one else, nothing else, and he confirmed that as he suddenly froze, tensing... then with what felt like an explosion of heat he came, screaming my old name, no other word on his lips as he collapsed on top of me, trembling with the force of his release.
In the aftermath of his orgasm it was all I could do not to cry; relief, shame, fear, arousal, too many emotions to process flooded my mind. I could barely even think... though I did manage somewhere in the chaos to hear the tiny voice saying, "That felt good, didn't it? Better than toys, better than Sarah, that felt good." I lay motionless under him, my still-hard cock pinned beneath us both. I wanted to move, to grind my hips against the sheets, against him, I wanted to feel a hand around me, I... I wanted to cum. I wanted it more than I realized I could want it.
Then I realized something else, something that had been nagging at me for several minutes. He'd screamed something, a name, not the one I currently bore and not the name of what I'd come to regard as my arch-enemy. He'd called me by the name I still wore when we first met. More than ever now I wanted to crawl away and hide. I couldn't, not with him trapping me on the bed and not with an order left un-followed. Sarah had been very specific about this one, and I knew she'd ask when she returned, she always did. Timidly I turned my head, looking back toward Kieran.
Drowsy, gleaming eyes met mine and I gulped, feeling as if I was choking on the words I needed to say. It took me a couple of tries to get anything at all past my lips.
"I... Kieran... um... thatisn'tmynameanymore," I stammered, then buried my face in the sheets again, somehow more embarrassed by what I just said than by the fact that he was sti... oh gods, he was still in me, he was inside me, he... I... but...
When my brain finally managed to function again it was just in time to hear him speak. His tone was gentle, apologetic.
"I know, and I'm sorry I slipped up. I guess I wasn't thinking too clearly. I-I'm sorry about..." he gestured, taking in us, the bed, the entire morning, "...I don't know what to say. I didn't intend..." His voice trailed off and he shifted, pulling carefully out of me before practically leaping off the bed. As he entered the bathroom I slid out of bed, nearly running out the door, heading back to what my mind registered as safety.
I spent the next hour alternately crying and cursing, curled up inside my cage, wrapped in a soft, almost furry blanket with my entire body covered. No light, nothing outside the dark little cave of cloth, only myself and my thoughts. After an hour, I heard footsteps enter the room. I could tell they weren't Sarah's, I would recognize hers anywhere, which meant they had to be Kiharn's.
The footsteps came over to the cage, paused a moment, then retreated slightly. There was a creak of springs as he sat on the bed. I shifted slightly, not quite willing to leave the security of my lightless shelter, fighting my instinctive urge to look at the bed, checking to see if Sarah wanted anything.
"Why didn't you refuse, boy?" His voice was quiet, again touched with that odd sadness.
"...Sarah wouldn't have wanted me to refuse you anything," I replied, my voice somewhat muffled by the blanket.
"She hasn't broken you that completely. You've still got a soul behind those eyes of yours. So, why didn't you refuse?"
It was harder to answer this time, knowing that he would keep pressing until he heard the truth.
"I was... you mentioned Rayne... you called me Rayne while you were still asleep I guess, while you were... touching me." I could almost feel his gaze burning through the blanket.
"That's not all, is it?"
"...no. It was at first, wanting to be better than him, and not wanting to disappoint you when you'd been so nice to me, and... and knowing that Sarah will only be upset because she didn't get to see it-" He started chuckling at that last bit, but quickly managed to silence himself, clearly waiting for me to continue.
"Then... then it just felt... good. Right. I didn't want it to end, I..."
After a minute or two of silence, he again verbally prodded me.
"You...?"
"I've never been fucked like that by anyone except Sarah. It was different than what I'd expected, better, easier. It felt like I was... whole." I dug further under my blankets, unwilling to let him see how much I was blushing. "Please don't tell her I said that. It'll just piss her off."
"Don't worry," and now his voice held more than a hint of warmth and pleasure, "I won't do anything that's likely to convince her to keep you where I can't see you occasionally. I know what it's like, and I won't leave you to face the wolves alone."
Baffled, my head popped out from under the pile of blankets to stare at him. He seemed completely serious.
"Wolves? What? You know what what's like?"
"I know what it's like to be Owned. For that matter, I know what it's like to be Owned by her. Look," he gestured toward his left thigh. I pressed against the cage bars to get a better look... then nearly fell backward as I realized just what I was looking at. Her Mark, set into his flesh. Not a tattoo like the one she'd taken me to get, but a deep, pale scar that screamed branding iron. She'd threatened a few times that if I didn't behave, she'd have me branded... I hadn't thought she meant it, at the time. Now... now if she threatened that, I'd be begging in terror for mercy.
"She... you never told me she Owned you."
"How could I? Until recently you were young enough and seemingly safe from her, and I wanted to keep it that way. Once she met you and started Hunting you, I didn't dare bring it up... she made it VERY clear that if I interfered, I'd end up taking your place. And now that she Owns you... there just hasn't been a good time to talk about it. You're almost always with her."
"How long?" I asked, barely able to form the question, afraid of the answer.
"Seven years wearing her collar. Two years about as free as it's possible to be after she's left her mark on you."
"Then you knew Rayne."
He just nodded, staring down at the floor, clearly lost in thought. I stretched, curled back up, and prepared to wait. It didn't take more than ten minutes before he looked back up at me.
"Yeah, you could say I knew Rayne. He was Sarah's favorite for... what, five years? Something like that. I think she actually loved him. He couldn't bear to belong to her after a while, though... she didn't just break him, she used him to break other slaves, forced him to hurt them while she watched.
"She was nothing if not thorough; everything was drilled into him, everything. You think you're suffering sometimes? You feel like you can't take it, like you want to go back to being who you were before she found you? Rayne couldn't. By the time she was done, all he could remember were faint glimmerings of his life before her. He had no other name, no other place, he was NOTHING but her property."
Puzzled, I asked, "So if he was that broken, how did he manage to leave?"
"It was when he realized that he couldn't remember the name he had worn before meeting her. He went to her, begging to be told what it was. She..." he shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake free of some unpleasant thought. "She beat him until he couldn't even walk, then told him that if he was so interested in a name other than the one she chose for him, so be it. She spit a name at him and told him he should leave.
"He did leave, as you know, and when he left he intended to make his way to the other side of the world if he had to, anything to get away from her. He got as far as the train station before he snapped. He ran back to her, begging for forgiveness, asking her to take him back. She refused."
"What happened then?" I was entranced, having heard bits of this before but never anything close to the whole story; Sarah didn't like to talk about it. "Did he leave again? Did he kill himself? She's never told me what happened to him."
"No, he's still alive. After a few months he approached her again, asking for friendship instead of ownership, and she agreed. He still wishes sometimes that he could turn back time and never ask that stupid question... hell, he didn't even get a real answer, he's never been sure if the name she called him when he left was his real name, or just a joke on her part."
The suspicion that had been forming while he spoke was cemented with those last few lines. He was watching me now, waiting... something in my expression must have given it away.
"Yeah."
"But... then why did you say his...your... that name?" I asked, still confused somewhat.
"Old habit. It's how she took away the name I used to have, part of it, anyway."
This time when he fell silent I didn't ask anything else, unwilling to interrupt the quiet, needing the chance to piece together what I knew of my friend Keiran and what I'd heard about Rayne. My mind was racing; why hadn't she told me? She'd talked about him like he was dead. Finally I shook my head once, emphatically, and burrowed back under the blankets, my words again muffled.
"I need time to think about this. I just... please, let me be alone for a while."
He didn't respond, just stood up and walked slowly out of the room, closing the door behind him.
There'll be more added as it comes - this is just the first five sections.