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Chapter 1
Richard looked up at the doorbell, getting up with a sigh. He hoped – without much optimism, considering the late hour, and the fact he hadn’t actually ordered the pizza yet – that it wasn’t Naomi. He just didn’t have time to do anything with her this evening, or to listen to her not-so-subtle hints that they’d hardly seen each other these last couple of weeks, but he couldn’t very well ask her to leave as soon as she arrived, and he did feel bad about how much he’d been neglecting her recently. They were just so close to closing a contract with a new – and rather bigger-scale – client which would give their business a huge boost, and in a small company there just weren’t enough people that in important enough positions to deal with all the detailed aspects that would secure them the contract, so most of the work was falling to him and his partner Janeece. So he was working long hours, and then coming home to work some more and his girlfriend was none too happy. Not that he blamed her, but he was tired and still had a few items to research, so he really wasn’t in the mood for trying to pacify her tonight.
He opened the door to his apartment, blinking in surprise at the man he saw there, instead of the annoyed face of his girlfriend. It took him a moment to place him, and as he did he looked uncertainly at the young man, trying desperately to remember his name. He recognized him as the man who used to live with his Uncle, but he couldn’t imagine what he was doing here. He’d never had anything to do with this man; oh, he’d met him a few times in passing, but generally he wasn’t around – or he avoided them – when Richard visited his Uncle, and Richard had never gone out of his way to talk to the young man. He’d seen him again at the funeral, of course, but that had been a year ago now, and it was the last time he’d seen him. He hadn’t even been at the reading of the will, which had surprised Richard, although at the time he had thought it was probably because the man expected to get most of his lover’s fortune and didn’t want to be around when the family found out. He felt the remembered shame again at his family’s attitude; sometimes they just behaved too disgracefully for him to understand. It had taken ages for him to convince them to even come to his Uncle’s funeral, but they’d been more than eager to come to the reading of the will, and hungry for any part of his Uncle’s fortune.
“Ah…hello…” He wasn’t quite sure what to say – how do you greet your Uncle’s male lover, whom no one in the family had ever really acknowledged? – and continued, somewhat lamely, “I didn’t you at the will reading.”
Then he almost winced at his lack of tact. It was still a somewhat sore spot with his family that his Uncle had left almost all of his fortune to charity, but, as his father had put it, ‘at least none of it went to that gold-digger whore of a boy he kept around with him’. Richard might have believed the general opinion of the man in front of him, but he knew how his family tended to outrageously distort anything involving his Uncle – he still didn’t really understand their vendetta against him – and he’d seen the way his Uncle and this man had looked at each other, and didn’t doubt how much they loved each other. He knew his parents had expected him to be the main benefactor, since he was the only one who’d had any time for the older man, and they’d been near-furious that he hadn’t received more than a few items, the most valuable of which being a beautiful landscape painting. To everyone’s – including her own – surprise, his Aunt Kate had been given an unexpected trust fund, and was the largest benefactor, apart from the charities he’d split his money among. He’d been happy his Uncle had had the last laugh and denied the family that had despised him his fortune, and happy with the keepsakes the old man had given him. He’d never cared for his Uncle’s fortune – he’d always wanted to make his own way in life – and treasured the memories the items he had received gave him every time he looked at them, and the painting hung in pride of place in his sitting room. It was these few things, the fact that his Uncle knew which painting he’d admired above all others, that showed the love the older man had had for him, and that was more than enough, and all he’d ever asked for. He did, however, feel bad that the man who’d loved his Uncle so much hadn’t received anything, and he was more than surprised at his Uncle’s thoughtlessness. He wondered idly whether the man had come to claim some of what should have been his inheritance. If he had, Richard couldn’t really blame him, but he couldn’t help him either, and he hoped the man had had the sense to come to him before any of the other members of his Uncle’s family. Well, his tactless opening provided plenty of opportunity to talk about it, anyway.
“I was in mourning” was the man’s only soft reply. Richard could well believe that; the last time he’d seen the man had been at his Uncle’s funeral, and it had hurt just to look at the wretched anguish and lost look the man had had.
“Well…ah…would you like to come in?” Richard was tired and busy, but he couldn’t exactly just ask him to leave, or come back another time, and besides, he was curious about why he was here in the first place.
“Yes, thank you.” A cautious smile appeared briefly before the man moved gracefully past, and Richard shut the door, before turning to look briefly at him and then lead him into the sitting room, trying desperately to remember his name. Watching the man, Richard felt the same discomfort he’d felt every time he’d met him at his Uncle’s house. It wasn’t just the man’s unusual colouring; his silver eyes and long silver hair that somehow seemed to reflect even the dim light of the hallway, and his pretty, youthful face. The man had always moved with an unnatural grace and poise, but at the same time seemed humble and timid, and Richard had never really known what to make of him, even if it wasn’t for the complicated relationship he’d had with his Uncle. Normally, though, Richard remembered seeing him completely calm and self-assured. Today he seemed nervous, in a way, and even shyer than Richard remembered him; not that Richard blamed him, considering the way he’d been treated by his lover’s family, not least – Richard was ashamed to admit – by Richard’s own parents.
After several moments he gave up and as he sat down in the sitting room, gesturing his guest to do the same, said with a sheepish smile, “I’m really sorry, but I can’t for the life of me remember your name. We only met those few times…”
“My name is Korian, my…Andre called me Kori for short. But of course, you can call me anything you wish.” He said in the same soft voice, no outward sign of his inward wince at his slip in almost referring to Andre as his former master. Andre had advised him not to call Richard Master until he’d given him the letter, not to mention the word at all until then.
Richard blinked, but before he could question the strange response, Korian continued, still standing, “I have a letter here for you from your Uncle.” He reached inside the pocket of the rough coat he wore, handing out a surprisingly unruffled envelope.
Richard took it automatically, even while his mind stumbled on what had just been said. A letter from the uncle who had been dead for a year? What kind of game was this guy playing? He glanced down at the envelope, which had his name written clearly on the front in his Uncle’s handwriting, before turning it over and stifling a gasp. He ran his fingers over the old wax seal, while smiling ruefully at the memories. After a year, the pain he’d felt at the loss of his Uncle had faded so he could now recall the good times without the familiar heart throb. Yes, this had to be from his Uncle. Only he had such a taste for history and ancient customs. Though to be honest, you did always think that sort of thing was cool. But what was the man thinking, delivering this message a year after his Uncle had died? He fingered it for a moment more before quickly breaking the seal and opening it to read;
Dearest Richard,
I must admit I really don’t know where to begin with this letter – what do you tell a nephew from beyond the grave a year after your death? – and this is currently my third attempt. I could spend pages writing how much I have loved you and our short times together; regaling you with memories of lazy summer evenings and crisp autumn mornings, but you already know all that and I’m afraid this letter has a more practical purpose. There is a lot you never knew about me – which isn’t surprising, considering how little we saw of each other – and I fear that I will have to reveal some uncomfortable truths, for both of us. I truly don’t know where to start or how to say this without you…misinterpreting what I have to say. So I guess I will start at the beginning. With Kori. Because, really, this letter isn’t about me or about you; it’s about the man I love more than life itself, and I ask you to bear with me, and just hear me out – don’t close your mind to what I have to say, even though you may not like some of it.
I will attempt to sum up twelve momentous years in a paragraph or so, and since I am struggling to write this while imagining your opinion, I will do it as matter-of-factly as possible. Kori is a slave. A real, live slave. I first met him when he was twelve years old and I was on a trip deep in Australia. I got lost, my car broke down and I stumbled upon the village he lived in. He comes from a community within that wilderness that is so far removed from anything we know as to be almost indescribable. Certainly a lot of the ways he acts can easily be incomprehensible to us, but you must understand he has a completely different culture – a completely different set of beliefs – that his life is based on. And nothing can seem to shake these ingrained beliefs; believe me, I’ve tried. In this community, there are two ‘races’ – the ‘master’ race, and the ‘slave’ race that he belongs to, and they all have the same unique features of silver eyes and hair that I’ve never encountered in any other race. I saw the way he was treated in this community and bought him on the spot. It was always my intention to free him, but…he was born and bred a slave, it’s so deeply ingrained in him that no matter what I tried he wouldn’t accept anything else and eventually I accepted him for what he was and what he wanted to be. He didn’t understand freedom, and even more importantly didn’t understand the world he’d just been plunged into; for our world is vastly different from his own. At the time I thought to use his slave mentality to get him to learn about our world and learn to survive on his own. As it turned out, he was rather more subtle than me and managed to use my desire for him to learn these things to let him act like a slave and show me his culture and beliefs. Don’t ever doubt his intelligence; he may be a self-proclaimed slave, and this culture may still be foreign to him in many ways, but his intelligence is on par with the best. So in the end, I got converted more than he did, and I finally accepted our living as master and slave, even if in my mind I always considered him my lover first. And before you even think it – no, I did not have sex with an underage twelve year old boy. I may be bisexual, and yes I may have a tendency toward younger men (although I didn’t so much before Kori) but I am not a paedophile, and I didn’t take advantage of a slave. Or, at least, as much as I could, I tried not to make it about the master and the slave. I waited until he was eighteen, and he offered himself – I didn’t ask. I clarify that because I understand after hearing this you are probably going to be disbelieving and you may think I am an awful person for keeping a slave – I wouldn’t blame you; I was wracked with guilt for the longest time about Kori – but I couldn’t stand it if you thought of me as someone who would take advantage of an underage slaveboy.
Richard stopped part way through, unable to take in any more. He sat staring at it for a few moments before going back and reading it again. And again. Then he blinked a couple of times, still staring at it, trying to understand what on earth it was talking about. He’d always known his Uncle was the eccentric one in the family, but it had always been the cool sort of eccentricities that appealed to young boys; a fondness for ancient times and the paraphernalia that went with that and living almost in isolation on estates large enough – and with enough things to do – that he’d always come back from a couple of weeks with his Uncle thinking he hadn’t done half the things he’d wanted to. And he’d always known his Uncle was gay, and knew the rest of the family seemed to despise him for it, but he’d never seen the harm in letting people be what they couldn’t help being, and hadn’t cared about his Uncle’s sexual preferences. The idea of his Uncle owning a slave was completely absurd. And wrong. Very, very wrong. People had fought for centuries against slavery and its repercussions. Richard just couldn’t understand it. How could the Uncle who always had a warm smile for him – who had such decided opinions on what was right and wrong with the world – possibly even conceive of owning a slave? Richard glanced back through the letter. To save him, the part of his mind that was still desperately trying to hold up the image of the Uncle Richard had known insisted, he did it to save him. But Richard wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to defend his Uncle anymore, wasn’t entirely sure he could ever really have known the man he thought he remembered so well. Desperate to distract his mind from dwelling on the information he couldn’t accept, Richard plunged back into the letter.
Anyway, now the really difficult part: why I’m telling you this now. I’m dead, gone, and I’ve left the man I love and the man who needs me more than anyone has ever done, all alone. Kori has been the hardest part about all of this. I sorted my financial affairs out months ago, dealt with my businesses and the people who worked for me. But Kori…again I considered giving him his freedom, but it would be worse now than it ever would have been before. If I let him free now, he would follow the ancient customs of his people and follow me into death, and I would not be able to stand that. I could never accept being the cause of the death of a loved one, especially Kori. I apologise for the suddenness of all this, but I really couldn’t tell you beforehand…you see, for him to move on, for him to live again, he needs a new Master. And that Master has to be you. You’re the only one I’d trust with such a thing, and the only one I feel safest about giving him to. I believe I can trust you won’t exploit him, and you’re the only one who I feel can come close enough to accepting him as I have, and letting him be what he has to be.
I realise this is all a shock to you, and your mind is probably already rejecting it, but I’m afraid to say you – just like I – really have no other choice. I have already given him to you, and he considers himself yours, and he needs a Master. I’m begging you now, to at least give this a chance, at least accept him enough to let him into your life and let him be around his new Master – which is as essential to his well being as any physical sustenance, perhaps more so. There really is no one else I can ask, and definitely no one else I could trust. Even if you cannot accept this all at once, that’s understandable – really, I didn’t either – but at least let him stay with you, help him as best you can. Consider him a friend or a companion or whatever would make you feel more comfortable until you can get used to this all. Just please give him the chance to show you more about what all this means – if not for his sake, then for mine.
I could give you all sorts of random advice right now, in dealing with him, and it won’t be easy because he thinks in a completely different way from us, but it would be best if you found your own way together and didn’t rely on what I discovered along the way. Just a couple of things; I don’t know how he will behave with you, but there is a good chance he will revert back to something similar to how he was before I bought him, and taught him that what I expected in this culture was completely different from what his previous culture expected. This will probably be because he will be unsure how to act around you and what you expect from him, so be patient and don’t forget some of the obvious things – make sure he eats, drinks and sleeps; he probably won’t do anything without permission at first, and when I first bought him he wouldn’t even ask for permission, waiting until it was given (or in my case until I realised he wasn’t doing the above and asked why). Always ask why he’s behaving in a certain way, and get to know some of his customs to understand everything better. I realise this advice isn’t so relevant if you can only accept him as a friend or some such at the moment, but I include it anyway because it is important regardless and you must understand that for him, he will probably not accept you – inwardly, anyway – as anything other than what you are: his Master.
And so, to you, the only member of my family I have loved truly and without reservation, I give my most precious possession, and my greatest gift: my slave, Korian, I hereby bequeath to you.
Dearest nephew, whom I have loved like the son I never had, I hope you can come to love and cherish my gift as much as I have, and accept him if nothing else. Truly, in this one bequest I have given you everything you could ever wish for, if you have the bravery and strength to take it.
With all my love, and hope for the future,
Your Uncle Andre x
Richard read with increasing disbelief, until by the end he could almost convince himself it was all some horrible joke. He closed his eyes as he finished. This cannot possibly be true. The whole idea is absurd; more than absurd…my Uncle did not own a slave. He wouldn’t do that, not for all these years – maybe, yes, to take him out of a land where there was no future or hope for him, but he wouldn’t then continue to own a slave, he’d free him, especially if he loved him as much as his Uncle had loved Korian. Korian! Richard blinked and looked up for the first time since opening the letter. Korian could refute everything; explain how it had all been some mistake.
Except Korian wasn’t standing awkwardly anymore. He’d stripped off his worn coat and the shirt under it – as well as his shoes and socks, Richard surmised as he glanced at the neat pile of clothes – and was kneeling on the floor wearing only his loose trousers, with his back straight and hands behind his head, elbows locked stiffly out to each side, and his eyes cast down. His chest proudly displayed the two small, simple nipple rings that dimly reflected the light. Richard swallowed, opened his mouth as if to say something, then quickly glanced back at the letter in front of him, just to have something else to look at. This can’t be true, he insisted again to himself. Well, not looking at him isn’t going to make him go away, the part of his mind that could still think rationally mocked him.
He looked up again, and his stomach flip-flopped. It made him uneasy, even this simple gesture, this simple show of…submission. It sent tingles all along his arms and made him shudder inside. It’s wrong. We’re equal. We’re all equal. And the cries of denial that his Uncle wouldn’t own a slave turned into something far more heart-wrenching. I do not own a slave.
Taking a small breath, he began tentatively, “Korian…” He was desperate to do something, anything to clear this mess up. But what do you say to a man who has just delivered a letter that equates to a deed of ownership and then knelt silently before you? “Korian…this isn’t really true. It can’t really be true. I mean…my Uncle – he would never…and I mean…you’re not really…are you?” It wasn’t the most coherent sentence he’d ever formed, but then he wasn’t at his most coherent tonight, surprisingly enough.
“Yes, Master, it’s true. Your Uncle was my former master. I am a slave. Your slave. Do with me as you will.” Korian replied in a quiet voice, not moving at all until at the end he slowly lowered himself until his forehead touched the ground before rising up again and resuming his previous position.
Richard’s breath hitched at the word ‘Master’ and the denial continued to rage inside him. No, no, no. This is all wrong. “Don’t call me that. I am not your Master. You are not my slave. I don’t know what my Uncle thought he was doing but I am not going to be part of it.” He replied, rather more harshly than he’d intended.
Korian didn’t move, just replied again in that quiet voice. “Yes, you are, Master. It is already done, and cannot be undone.” Then he seemed to take a small breath before continuing in an even quieter voice, “Forgive me for not being acceptable to you; I swear I will do everything I can to be worthy of being your slave.”
Damn, that wasn’t what he’d meant. He didn’t understand this, couldn’t work out what was going on, and the whole situation was making him completely uncomfortable. And it didn’t help that it was infuriating talking to someone who wouldn’t even look at you. It made the conversation feel completely one sided somehow. He hadn’t quite understood how much of communication was non-verbal – even after all those company lectures about body language he’d been to – until he was faced with talking to someone with downcast eyes, who kept his face expressionless and held himself rigidly still. In what looked like a very uncomfortable position, at that. How am I meant to deal with this? He desperately cast around for some excuse, some way out of this situation. Something in the letter jogged his mind and he glanced back at it. Even if you cannot accept this all at once, that’s understandable – really, I didn’t either – but at least let him stay with you, help him as best you can. Consider him a friend or a companion or whatever would make you feel more comfortable until you can get used to this all. OK. He could deal with this if Korian was just a friend of his Uncle’s, who needed some help, just for a little while. If not for his sake – then for mine. Yes, for the sake of his Uncle he could help out the man he’d loved for a little while. Long enough to help him get over the death of his lover and to show him that he would be better off taking the freedom offered, that he could survive on his own and owed no slavery to anyone.
“Korian, listen. I didn’t mean that – it’s not that I don’t want you or anything, it’s that I don’t agree with slavery. In any way. I don’t want a slave…I’m just not comfortable with it. I…I don’t mind you staying here. For a while. While you get yourself sorted and everything, but please…none of this stuff. Don’t…don’t kneel or anything like that. We’ll just share the apartment for a little while, OK? Do you understand? I just can’t accept all this…slavery…stuff.”
Korian was silent for a moment, before bowing his head slightly and saying, “Yes, Master.”
Richard sighed as Korian didn’t move. “Don’t call me that, OK? My name is Richard. And you can get up, all right?” He ran his hands through his hair as he thought of the forgotten work sitting in the other room. “Look, surely you weren’t like this all the time with my Uncle? I mean, I was there some of the time, and I know you weren’t. Can’t we just be friends? You can stay here while you adjust to everything, but you can’t act like this or it’s just going to be completely awkward.”
Korian glanced up briefly, then tentatively asked, “You want me to act informally, Master?”
No, I want you to stop acting like a damn slave at all. But it looks like this is going to go one step at a time, and right now I just want to complete the first step and get you out of my hair for a bit so I can finish that blasted research. “Yes, that’s it.” Richard tried to smile, biting back his frustration, “We can act informally around each other.” Remembering another part of the letter, Richard figured he might as well clear up a few other things now as well. “You can do what you like, OK? You’re free to come and go, and use anything in the apartment you like. Now, I’ll give you a quick tour of the apartment, and then I really have to get on with some work.”
Richard stood up, relieved when Korian finally stood as well, and started showing him the apartment. It didn’t take long, since the apartment only had a bedroom, sitting room, bathroom, kitchen and study. After asking Korian not to go in his own bedroom, he paused as he realised he really didn’t have anywhere for someone else to sleep. His parents had been arguing with him to move into a bigger place for ages, but he’d always liked it here in his apartment; it wasn’t big, true, but it was big enough for him, it was convenient and it didn’t require much effort to keep up. He passed the airing cupboard on the way back to the sitting room and pulled out a pillow, spare duvet and some blankets.
Dumping the bundle on the sofa, he turned to Korian and said, “I’m afraid I don’t have a second bed, so you’ll have to sleep in here. Now, I have to go and finish off some work, so just…make yourself at home, I guess…”
Not really knowing what to say to his unexpected guest, he turned and hurried back into the study, closing the door behind him. Once inside, Richard sighed with relief and sank into the chair behind the desk. He didn’t know what to make of it all, but he was glad to be alone again. He didn’t really want to be stuck with another person staying in his apartment – it was, after all, meant for one person – especially considering they’d now have to buy food for two people and everything. But he knew how much his Uncle had cared for this man, and his Uncle had never refused him a favour. As long as we don’t have to go into the slave thing, it’ll be OK. It wouldn’t be too bad having some company, I guess, and as soon as he realises he really is free, and he can do what he wants, he should be happy enough to take the opportunity. Richard recalled what part of the letter, and frowned to himself slightly at that thought. Just be sure he’s over Uncle Andre’s death first, in case those predictions were right…if you get him settled into a new life, show him there’s plenty to live for, then you should be able to convince him to embrace freedom.
Feeling better for having decided what to do, Richard settled down to continue his research. A few minutes later he caught himself staring blankly at his computer and sighed. It was just so hard to concentrate when his mind was still in a state of numbed disbelief. He couldn’t believe Korian was really a slave. I mean, come on – a slave! They didn’t exist; hadn’t existed for centuries, and for a good reason. Where on earth did one suddenly appear from? He shook his head at the questions running around his mind and tried again to concentrate on his work.
An hour later there was a knock on the study door, and Richard looked up and cautiously responded, “Come in.”
Korian entered unobtrusively, still wearing nothing but his jeans and with his eyes downcast. He quietly placed the cup of coffee and plate of biscuits he was holding on the desk, bowed his head and turned to leave.
Richard blinked, surprised, “Wait.”
Korian turned back and glanced at him briefly before looking back down.
“Uhh…” Richard wasn’t quite sure what he’d wanted to say, but was unwilling to just ignore Korian as he entered and left silently. “Thank you…but you know you really don’t have to do…” He glanced at the coffee, and blinked again in surprise, his train of thought flowing into a different question. “How did you know how I like it?”
“You were a guest in my former master’s house, Master.”
Richard’s teeth clenched at being called Master again, but he didn’t want to get into an argument about that now. “Well, thank you, but as I was saying, stuff like this isn’t necessary.”
Korian simply replied, “Yes, Master” but Richard wondered if he’d really taken any of it in.
Korian waited there in silence for a few moments, before Richard realised he was still waiting for Richard to let him go. “OK, well, I’ve still got quite a bit of work to do, so why don’t you settle in a bit or something…?” Damn it, I am not going to give you permission to leave every time…that sounded far too much like a dismissal for my liking.
Korian gave another “Yes, Master” and left as unobtrusively as he’d entered.
Richard sighed and settled down to try and get some more work done, but he couldn’t help but be distracted. His mind kept replaying one awkward scene after another as he sipped at his coffee – expertly made, with a dash of milk, sugar and cream just the way he liked it. Eventually he managed to get absorbed in the research again, and was almost done for the night when there was another knock on the door.
Gritting his teeth, he called, “come in” again and watched as Korian came in and silently collected the empty cup and plate.
He glanced at the clock and was surprised to find it was already 11pm; he lost track of time so easily when he was buried in this research. Then he frowned, wondering what Korian had been doing for the last couple of hours.
He yawned and asked, “Why’re you still up? I’ve got the research to do, but there was no need for you to stay up this late…”
Korian paused, “I didn’t know when…or if…I was allowed to sleep, Master.” Then it was his turn to look awkward for a moment, “and a slave shouldn’t sleep while his Master is awake.”
Richard refrained from yelling at the man – just barely – telling himself that it wasn’t Korian’s fault he’d been raised a particular way, and felt he had to follow a set of rules that Richard couldn’t even guess at. Allowed to sleep. The thought made him shudder. Why do I even ask questions when I know I won’t like the answers?
“Listen, Korian, you can sleep anytime you want. You can do what you want, OK? Eat, drink, sleep, dance on the table. Anything you want. I’m not going to object. In all honesty, as busy as I am at the moment, I might not even notice. So don’t worry about asking for permission or doing any of that, OK?”
“Yes, Master.”
Another automatic reply. Richard felt like sighing, or yelling, or running his hands through his hair in frustration. He did none of those things. Instead, he just nodded at Korian, hoping that would be enough to be taken as permission to leave, since he really did not feel like saying it aloud. He just felt like some stuck-up idiot when he did that. Korian seemed to take it as such, anyway, and disappeared without another word; perhaps that could be counted as progress.
Turning back to the computer screen, Richard tried to ignore the unease gnawing away in his stomach, the butterflies that wouldn’t let him concentrate, but it had gotten too late and Richard couldn’t simply push the events of the last few hours away any longer. He swallowed hard as he thought about Korian’s servility, about him kneeling half naked before him, body stiffly presented for his pleasure, his mouth repeating the word Master over and over, asking if he was allowed sleep. He shook his head, hoping to clear it. Some of his deepest fantasies, the ones he always pushed to the side and tried his best to ignore…the ones that surfaced often just before he climaxed…the ones of a slavegirl kneeling at his feet. But that was just fantasy, and he didn’t want to be like that. Didn’t want a relationship like that, not with anyone. And his fantasies had never been of actual slavery; he wouldn’t want to force another person to do anything truly against their will. But some of the glimpses he’d had of consensual relationships like that – glimpses he yearned for while still trying to avoid anything of the sort – some of those relationships…well, now you know why that was never a good idea. True, when he thought about the fact there was a slave nearby, who’d come running at his slightest gesture…who’d service him however he desired. Yes, it made his body hot, his heart race and excitement flood through him. But the moment he considered that this was a real slave, someone with no choice and no actual desire to be here or to do what he was forced to do, all of that faded and just left him with an extreme guilt that the idea of exploiting someone like that could even cross his mind. And besides, even if Korian wasn’t a real slave, even if he were here by choice, once the scenarios left his mind and actually became reality, all he felt was unease. It was fine inside his head and his imagination, but faced with a kneeling man, faced with Korian’s subservience, the heat quickly changed to chills that spread along his arms, and a deep unease in the pit of his stomach. The idea of actually doing any of the things portrayed in his fantasies just made him feel like a pretentious fool. See, you knew those sort of scenarios would never really work out in real life.
Sighing, Richard put the folder he’d been working on back into his briefcase and switched off the computer. He was far too wound up now to get the rest of this work done. He’d have to go in early tomorrow and see whether he could finish it off before meeting with his partner to go through it all. He bit back a groan at the thought of getting up early again and slipped out of the room, hoping desperately not to see Korian on the way to his room.
Suddenly, I’m really wishing it had been the simple distraction of a neglected girlfriend that had come knocking on my door earlier this evening.
* * *
Korian paused where he was standing at the sink as he heard his new Master leaving the study. For the hundredth time that evening, conflicting instincts rose within him. You should go and find out if he needs anything. The words of the bone-deep training warred with his former Master’s advice. Don’t overload him all at once; give him time to get used to everything. Just serve quietly, using your own initiative, until he’s ready to lead. Taking a deep breath, Korian turned back to what he was doing, trying to ignore the shudder of unease that spread through him. He had spent so long, tried so hard to be a good slave, to be worthy of being bought by one of the more influential masters…and then had tried so hard to prove he was worth all the effort and cost his former master went to…but in the end, he had evidently failed. No, don’t think about that now. That’s in the past. You have a new future now, a new chance, a last chance to prove you’re worth something. And his former master knew best, when it came to this new master, and in this new country – it was still new, still different, even after thirteen years – so he would follow that advice, even if it went against everything he’d been taught a good slave should do. Besides, your former master was right, this situation seems very like how it first was with him. He smiled briefly as he remembered how it had been, and how it seemed to be with this one too. Telling him not to do what he was supposed to do, not to act how he was supposed to act, telling him to do what he wanted instead. Why couldn’t they understand that what he wanted was to be a good slave? It had confused the thirteen year old boy so much all those years ago, but he’d learnt a bit more by now, understood a bit more. Take it slowly. He knew this Master, like his former one, wouldn’t want overt signs of slavery, overt actions to acknowledge his ownership. Just subtle service, without many reminders that he was a slave. Korian refrained from sighing, wishing that he could be good enough that his Master wouldn’t want to conceal what he was, wouldn’t want to pretend that he wasn’t his slave. It had been the same with his former master; he was never worthy of being recognised as their slave, never good enough to be a proper, acknowledged slave. He scrubbed harder at the plate he was washing, before realising his feelings were showing themselves externally, and slowing down with a jolt and a furtive glance around to make sure his Master hadn’t seen. No wonder they never want you as their slave. He focused on the task once more, carefully this time. I will be good enough. Whatever it takes. However slowly I have to take it, I will show my Master I can be a good slave, I’ll show him he can acknowledge me without being ashamed to own a worthless slave. Whatever I have to do.
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