Cages

Zechs 38
The next day was busy for Heero and boring for me. Heero was up early, trying to get his workout in so that he would be ready if the doctor allowed him to come. Which the doctor did, sending a messenger with a note saying that Quatre was doing better but would probably need to stay for several days for observation until they were sure the infection was gone. The doctor also said that Quatre had been asking for company, a comment which had Heero bolting for the door. I had watched the friendship bloomed and I was only just beginning to realize just how few friendships, not alliances, were allowed in Collar. I knew just how tenacious Heero could be, and was certain that he would be at the hospital the minutes they allowed and would not return until they kicked him out.
Though I missed Heero, I soon realized that it was for the best. Later that day the Duke sent me an invitation to his party, reminding me that I needed to come pick up my new slave. I wasn’t sure how Heero or Quatre would react to having another face in the apartment, so I decided it would be best to go alone, while Heero was out.
The Duke’s party was not as... inventive as Scrub’s had been. There were plenty of naked or almost naked slaves present at this party, but there didn’t seem to be an actual theme to the gathering, other than lust and decadence. I was dressed in a Victorian suit, which fit in quite naturally with the lush carpets and dark draperies that hung around the large room. Two or three masters would gather on a couch with six or seven slaves gathered around them, bending to their will. The Duke’s slaves, as it was his party, were all dressed in a similar fashion. They were all naked, with long red bows wrapped around their necks. A small group of these slaves followed the Duke like a group of bees, while others scurried about, serving patrons, and still others sat or stood in metal cages as human decorations.
“Alone tonight I see,” Duke said, coming up behind me, a young Asian boy on his arm.
“Yes,” I replied, unperturbed, “I didn’t want the other two to influence my choice.”
“Very wise,” the Duke responded, ignoring the Asian youth who was imploringly licking his neck. “You must be careful of how much influence you allow your slaves over your life, as they will take a mile if you give them an inch. Speaking of which,” the Duke said, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. There was another young slave walking by, and the Duke quickly handed the Asian boy off to him. “Take him,” the Duke snapped, then returned his attention to me. I was so startled by watching the older boy push the younger one to the ground and slip his dick inside him - Right there on the floor! - that I almost missed the Duke’s next words while paying attention to the shocked then rapturous expression on the younger boy’s face. “We’ll get my pets lined up for you once the entertainment is over. Until then, feel free to make us of anything here,” the Duke said, then walked on. I stepped around the two preoccupied boys on the floor and made my way to the bar. I sorely required a stiff drink.
Once my drink was in hand, I made my way to the stage. I chose one of the benches lined up along the wall instead of one of the small french tables in front of the stage where the night’s entertainment would be performed because I was feeling a little like an outsider and because I didn’t want to seem lonely or antisocial. I needn’t have worried, though. Immediately upon sitting down two of the Duke’s slaves knelt before me.
“May we join you, Master Zechs?” they asked. Surprised, I nodded, and the two fluidly rose and gracefully sat beside me, their legs pressing up against mine. The one who had spoke, a blue-eyed boy with a lithe figure and light brown hair or about shoulder length, smiled at me. I think he was trying to be seductive, but there was something in his eyes, the nervousness of a hidden purpose, which made the smile come off as less than appealing.
The other boy was taller with darker brown hair that fell to conceal all but one deep green eye. He did not speak, nor did he look me directly in the eye. At first I thought he might be contemplating leaving, but I soon saw from the way he held his arms close to his body, making himself as small as possible, that he was merely shy. He was slim, with long legs, and looked athletic from the tone of his upper body and shoulders. The most noticeable thing about him, however, was that he was pierced everywhere. Everywhere! There must have been two hundred of them! As far as I could make out, there were none on his face, but there were enough to create patterns on his chest and stomach, all the way down to his thighs. Before I could get a better look, however, the other slave spoke.
“My name is Weave,” said the smaller one. “I hope you don’t think me too bold, but I wanted to come see you. The Duke said you might be taking one of us and I wanted to meet you first.”
I was about to reply, when an offended growl came from behind the bench. I turned around to see an angry slave, brown eyed with chocolate hair and a delicate build, glaring at the two slaves the sat with me. Beside him was a fair-skinned slave with blue eyes and honey-colored hair.
“Weave!” the slave snapped, “That’s cheating. You can’t just walk up to a potential buyer and start talking yourself up,” the slave complained.
“You’re just mad you didn’t get here first,” Weave protested, glaring at the other slave, “Don’t tell me that’s not what you were coming over for.”
“You just can’t let anyone...” the other hissed, and I decided it was time to put a stop to it.
“Gentlemen,” I said in a commanding tone. The arguing stopped and all eyes turned to me. “If you please, let us move to the table. I’m not certain what you’re here for, but if you move to the table I’ll be able to much more clearly hear you out.”
With that, I rose and walked to the nearest table, taking a long drink from my glass. I wondered if I could send one of the slaves to get me another, or if only their master was allowed to do that.
There was a flurry of movement behind me and, as I sat down, the two louder slaves sat on either side of me. The honey-haired slave sat quickly beside the brown-eyed slave, leaving the slave that had come with Weave to pull up a chair. He did so, his eyes constantly downcast, but I watched the muscles of his back play as he moved the chair, and I could see the athletic skill hidden inside the tall body. The others were not nearly so toned, instead trying to be slim and graceful. Not that the tall boy lacked for grace, simply that the others had a flowing, natural grace, and his was more catlike and practiced.
“My name is Jaz,” said the other loud boy.
“I’m Honey,” said the soft-spoken boy with honey-colored hair.
“An apt name,” I said and he blushed prettily. “And you?” I said, turning to the tall, withdrawn boy at the other end of the table.
“Nanashi,” he said quietly, but his thick baritone was pleasing to the ear. Still, I frowned.
“Nanashi?” I questioned, “I haven’t heard that name before.”
“It means no name,” Jaz interjected helpfully. “He came with the name, and the Duke simply decided it was too much trouble to give him a new name. Besides, Nana has a hard time remembering things, and he was already used to that name.”
“I see,” I said, not liking the way in which these boys spoke of the quiet slave. I hadn’t seen anything yet to lead me to believe he was slow, but I hadn’t known him all that long. I certainly didn’t want a slave that wasn’t intelligent, but I was also wary of trusting what the boys said. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you four here?”
“You’re planning on taking one of the Dukes slaves with you, right?” asked Weave, “Well, we’re the only slaves he’d be willing to part with, so it’s going to be one of us. We just wanted to let you know about us.”
“Ah. I see. Well, I’m glad you boys took all the trouble of coming to see me. So, what can you tell me about yourself, Weave?”
“Well,” the boy said, a proud smile on his face, “I’ve practiced piano for four years, and other masters’ are always saying how well I play. I can dance and I make a delicious chicken teriyaki. I can clean and give back-rubs. I can help you at home or you could train me for Collar. I’m very versatile.”
“That’s wonderful. I would love to hear you play sometime,” I said, and the boy preened. “Now, Jaz, I’d like to hear more about you.”
“I play the guitar, sing, and dance. Unlike other slaves who can only cook one decent dish, I’m a great cook. I love to talk to people and I’ve been told that my singing could be good enough for Collar.”
“Sometimes he talks too much, though,” Weave said, glaring at Jaz for the barely concealed insults. I repressed the urge to sigh. Did I have to pick any of them?
“What about you, Honey?”
“Well, I am trained in cooking and one of my dishes placed top twenty in Collar.”
“You mean twentieth,” Jaz interjected. Honey glared, which surprised me, because I had previously assumed that he was very shy.
“That’s better than either of you. You’ve never even been trained for Collar, let alone completed,” he growled. That got all three of them glaring at the other, with Nanashi being the only one to abstain from the conversation. If his intelligence hadn’t already been pinned as low, I would have thought he was the smartest of the group. “Besides, I would have placed higher if the master had continued my training,” he protested, “but the Duke was so busy with his new pet that I was pushed aside,” he said, glaring hotly at Nanashi. I was starting to see the bigger picture, as dark and ugly as it was. “Anyway, I can also clean and I do great foot massages. I play the harp and I can recite poetry.”
“Lovely,” I complemented. Then, my curiosity piqued, I turned to Nanashi. “And what do you do?”
“My skills are basic,” he admitted quietly, a cloud of gloom hanging over his head. “I was an acrobat for a time,” he told me, “and now I am able only to please my master to the best of my ability.”
“Why are you no longer an acrobat?” I questioned. His eyes were far away and masked, as Heero’s had been.
“My rings would get stuck on the mats or twist in my body,” he admitted. I allowed my eyes to flow down his body, truly seeing his rings for the first time. There were two lines of them, all black bars, going from his ankles up his legs to his shoulders and over, then down his back. His nipples were pierced with hoops, unlike the simple bars the went down the rest of his body. At his groin, the two lines flowed into each other until they just touched the base of his cock. There were six bars in his cock, two through the upper side of his shaft, two through the lower, and two intersecting in an X right behind the head. At his hips, the two lines began again, spiraling around his thighs until they stopped at his ankle. The bars were so long, so thick, and imbedded so deep into the flesh that I could easily see them becoming a hazard as he worked. I wondered why the Duke would put them in, if they impaired the slave’s movement.

Zechs 39
I soon had the opportunity to ask, as the Duke marched up, glaring at his slaves.
“What are you four doing here?” he growled, glaring down at the slaves. The three of the four suddenly looked terrified and lowered their heads, with the exception of Nanashi, whose head was already lowered but did not look overly afraid, only passive and accepting. Again he reminded me of Heero as I had first brought him home, accepting and removed from everything that happened.
“It was Nanashi’s idea!” Weave suddenly protested. The other two nodded their heads in agreement, while Nanashi simply kept his head down. “We just wanted to make sure he didn’t embarrass you.”
“Is that so?” Duke asked, glaring down at the boy.
“I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds,” I suddenly interjected despite myself. “But I think the responsibility falls equally among them,” I said, garnering angry looks from the three more expressive slaves, “but despite whatever they may have done, I must say I was most enjoying their conversation. Surely you won’t begrudge me that?” I purred, speaking in the same manner I would at a political conference.
“My friend, I would not begrudge you anything, but these four well knew that they were not to see you until after the show, and then only to choose,” he said, then moved his eyes to Nanashi, “So that they might all have a fair chance to win.”
I could see his game now. He, also, was hoping to rid himself of what he considered to be an ill performing slave. It made me unsure of Nanashi, but likewise I was unsure of the other three. While they were all talented and pleasant, they seemed somewhat forward, pushy, and shallow. I knew that I had to consider how the two other slaves would react to them, and how they would fit into the dynamics of our home.
“Also, they have other guests to wait on. I cannot allow four of my slaves to be lazy while the others work.”
“I’m sure an interview will not change their chances so much. And certainly you can spare one slave from the night’s chores.”
“I suppose so.”
“Then perhaps I can entreat you to allow me an interview with each, so that I will only take up one at a time? It would make the judging process that much easier, for they are all so beautiful and so well behaved,” I said, complementing both the slaves and master.
“I will allow it, but only half an hour for each. Then you will have an hour to deliberate before you must make your final choice. Jaz can go first, then Honey, then Weave, then Nanshi. And, boys, I expect you to be on your best behavior, and that I am still your master, so do not attempt anything you don’t have permission for.”
“Yes, master,” the three said sullenly. Only Nanshi was silent, staring at the table.
“Nanashi?” the Duke growled, using the boy’s hair to force his head back.
“Ah...” he gasped, shaking slightly, “Yes, master,” he whispered, his eyes wide and frightened. The Duke released him and nodded to himself. “Now, the rest of you, get back to work.”
The three boys scurried off to work, Nanashi scurrying less energetically than the rest, and I was alone with Jaz, who smiled brightly at me.
“So,” I said casually, “tell me about your singing.”
Instead of telling me, Jaz lead me down the hall to a small kareoke room, where he performed several songs for me. He was decent, but no where near ready to compete in anything. His voice was nice, but his range was limited, and there was nothing truly memorable about his voice. Also, he took praise well enough, but when I suggested that he stand straighter to improve his breathing, he was highly offended, though he tried to conceal it. When he wasn’t singing, he asked me many questions about myself, my work, and my home, but he barely asked anything about the other slaves.
Once Jaz was gone it was Honey’s turn, and he insisted that we move to the buffet, where he served me all of the dishes he had made and watched me eat them as he railed against the difficulties of using substandard equipment as he had been forced to. The food was good, but certainly not gourmet. The boy certainly had some talent, but there was not enough natural talent to make up for his limited training. When not talking about food or cooking, Honey asked many questions about my slaves, but I often caught a tone in his voice that told me he was searching for a flaw or weakness in them, even before he had met them. Had I been able to convince myself strongly that he was indeed searching for flaws and it was not just my imagination, I would have written him off completely. Despite this not being the case, I was still leery of taking him in.
Weave, despite my dislike of the other two, was the worst of the three. And, while I must attribute some of this to the headache I felt growing behind my eyes, much of it fell into that foul spewing mouth of his. The only time Weave was quiet was when he played piano, which he insisted on doing, and then only because he had to concentrate on the notes to keep from playing wrong. There was no natural flow or grace to his fingers, and his brow furrowed unbecomingly as he played. Once he was finished playing, he began to harp on the flaws of the others, saying that he simply liked me so much he didn’t want me to settle for a lesser slave. He repeated over and over how much he liked the other slaves and how much he tried to help them only before pointing out some terrible flaw or grievous error they had made. At least the other two had shown more tact, and I was glad to be rid of Weave. For my own sanity, I would not be taking the pushy loudmouth.
It was with a sort of dread that I greeted my next interview. Though Nanashi had been quiet before, I feared that he would suddenly learn how to sing Opera or play the drums or some other activity that caused my already pounding headache to jolt. However, despite my nightmarish predictions, Nanashi was quiet and demure as he approached me.
“Please follow me,” he said, then lead me away from the noisy party.

Zechs 40
I was not surprised to see Nanashi leading me into a room, however I was surprised at the room he led me to. I wasn’t quite certain if it was actually a small library or a large study, but either way the room was very quiet and somewhat dim, as a fire burning in the hearth cast and a pair of lights on the wall cast the only light in the room. And, there, on the table beside one of the deep red plush chairs, I saw something that almost made me cry.
Aspirin.
“You seemed to be getting a headache, Master Zechs,” Nanashi admitted in his quiet tone, “So I took the liberty of bringing these. I hope it does not offend you.”
“I have never been less offended in my life,” I said, quickly taking two of them with a glass of water that had been sitting next to the two pills on the silver tray. When I turned around, there was a small, ghost of a smile playing upon his lips, but it quickly flitted away when he saw me watching and his face returned to its passive state.
I motioned for the slave to be seated as I sat on one of the plush couches in the room. In a very slave-like manner, he seated himself on the floor at my knees instead of on the couch. His head was lowered, his hands passively in front of him, awaiting a command.
I couldn’t stand it.
“For goodness sake, sit on the couch. I’m not your master,” I snapped, then regretted it as the boy flinched, then quickly rose to sit as far away from me on the couch as he could. I sighed, when would I ever learn to hold my tongue?
We sat in silence for some time, Nanashi staring at his hands and I nursing my glass of water, wishing it was something stronger but doubting that would be a good idea. I sighed again and Nanashi finally worked up the courage to speak.
“Master Zechs? You seem tense. I could rub your shoulders, if you’d like,” he said, then left it at that, never looking up. I looked at him for a moment, but with his bangs hiding his face I could not read him, so I nodded instead, shrugged off my coat, and turned around.
Despite the fact that he had not mentioned this skill in our previous meeting, his hands were very strong and adept at relaxing muscles. I couldn’t help but hum in appreciation as his strong hands steadily released the tension from my body.
About three minutes into the massage, I realized that I had not spoken to the boy, and I would not be able to decide his character if I did not speak to him.
“Do you like the library?” I asked the quiet boy.
“It is calm and peaceful. I like the smell,” he said after a brief hesitation.
“Do you read often?”
“I do not read at all.”
“A pity. Reading is one of the few great pleasures in life. But perhaps you read before you came to be owned by the Duke?” I asked. There was a pregnant silence behind me as the boy’s hands stopped their movement.
“Master,” his voice came, soft and pained, “I cannot read.”
I almost wrote him off then. So close I came to closing my mind against him for this simple admittance. But he had been brave enough to admit it to me, when he obviously thought it would provoke censure, and for that alone I could not put him aside so quickly.
Questions poured through my head. Why? What kind of schooling had he had? What kind of childhood, in this day, could raise an illiterate child? Even in the very worst parts of the world, the illiteracy rate was never higher than ten percent. So where had he come from? Was he truly daft?
I wanted to ask these questions, but I could feel the tiny tremors running through the boys hands and I knew that, because he was owned by someone else, I would not be permitted to comfort him. So, as the subject obviously troubled him so much, I decided to put it aside for the time being.
“Someday, perhaps, I will ask you more on the subject, but for today let us find another topic of interest.”
I could almost hear the sigh of relief from behind me. Nanashi continued the massage more confidently and it was quiet for a few moments, then he hesitantly spoke.
“Could you tell me... of your other slaves? You have two?”
“Yes. Angel and Kitten.”
“What are they like?”
“They’re both somewhat shy. Kitten is skittish, but he has the brightest smile. Angel is very reserved, but he’s also very loyal.”
“Do they fight often?”
“No, never. They’re very close.”
“Oh,” he said, but it sounded almost sad. For a minute, I couldn’t understand why, then I remembered how the other three slaves had tag-teamed him and it was easy to figure out what he had assumed.
“Nanashi,” I said, taking his wrist and turning around, “I can’t guarantee that I have perfect slaves, but I will assure you that neither Angel nor Kitten would ever purposefully harass or belittle anyone. I wouldn’t allow it. I don’t condone deceit,” I said strongly. I would have liked to look into the boy’s eyes, but he had lowered them again when I turned around.
“It...” he said, then hesitated. “It is not deceit, what they are doing. The lines have been drawn and the rules set forth. I am simply too tired to play their game. Or too stupid,” he said, his voice self-castigating.
I could not help but place my hand on his chin and push his head up. I wanted to see into his eyes, for he was an enigma of paradoxes. Unable to read but able to read people. Barely able to speak but saying more than the other three combined.
When I raised his head, Nanashi still would not look at me. His hair covered one eye, which I thought was a shame, because the eye that I could see was a beautiful emerald green. Deciding this, I pushed his bangs away from his face, so that I could see both eyes. Still he would not look at me, instead diverting his eyes to look at the floor.
“Nanashi, look at me.”
His eyes moved, but they unfocused before reaching mine. He had put a wall between us, so that he was not more looking at me then than he had been when looking at the floor.
“Nanashi, look at me.”
This time, with the repetition of the direct order, he could do nothing but look into my eyes, allowing me to see through his eyes and into his soul. It seemed almost shameful, like peaking through a neighbor’s window. Still, I gazed deeply taking in everything I saw. There was an intelligence inside him, but it was deep and hidden. He was wise beyond his years and there was a pain to match inside his soul. He was afraid, but there was as much a fear for everything outside as there was for that within, and I could tell that he was as much afraid of failing his master as he was afraid of failing himself. So he didn’t try, choosing instead to hover in this limbo. Always reaching, never touching.
I broke eye contact when I knew I could take no more, and found myself mimicking Nanashi in staring at my hands. Nanashi was panting slightly, shaken from the ordeal.
“Thank you,” I said after a few moments had passed.
“I-it is time for me to go,” Nanashi stuttered, and I looked at the clock to see that there was only a few minutes left in our meeting. I decided it would be best to let the boy go instead of scaring him any more, so I nodded. Nanashi dropped to the floor, kneeling in supplication, then practically ran for the door.
It would not be hard to decide which slave to take.

Zechs 41
I spent the next hour watching performances and such on the stage. The other three slaves stopped by often to refill my drink or ask how everything was, but Nanashi did not come to me. The one time I did see him he immediately ducked into another room, so I could only assume that he was hiding from me. It worried me a bit, but I knew there would be better times to sort it all out.
I was watching the end of a song and dance performance when the Duke found me.
“Have you made up your mind?” he asked. Then, without letting me answer, he continued, “I’ll line the slaves up one last time so you can have a look at them.”
I nodded and followed him, feeling it would be easier to go along with it than to tell him that my mind had already been made up.
The Duke led me to an empty wing of the complex that I had previously not seen before and I had just enough time to wonder how he had managed to obtain such a huge space before the slaves filed in and lined up, all but one staring coyly at me. I’m sure it would only take one guess to figure who stared directly at the floor the entire time.
“Well, which one of my four lovely slaves will you be taking home with you tonight? Weave, Jaz, Honey, or Nanashi?” the Duke asked. I felt that I would have to make my response appropriate or risk hurting the slaves feelings. I was fairly certain that the slaves would not easily forget being spurned. Well, again, all but one.
“I must say, they are all quite beautiful and charming. Jaz has the most delightful voice I’ve had the pleasure to hear in some time. Honey treated me to dishes that make gourmet food pale in comparison. Weave can play the piano well enough to be in a grand hall. And Nanashi, though quiet, has proven himself to be both perceptive and kind. I would be proud to own any of these slaves, however, I would not steal but one from you, or risk losing a valuable friend. So, in choosing my new slave, I must think first of the two slaves I already own, for I would not add to my worries by acquiring slaves who cannot tolerate each other. Because of this, I choose Nanashi.”
There was a stunned silence, both from the three un-chosen slaves, the Duke standing next to me, and most of all from Nanashi himself. He had frozen when I said his name, but I watched him slowly thaw despite his disbelief, and tentatively raise his head so that his eyes could meet mine. There was confusion there, and fear, but I could see a sparkle, not perhaps of hope, but of a longing to belong that was rekindled by my decision. A hope of hoping to belong, I suppose.
“Are you sure?” the Duke asked, breaking the spell. Nanashi’s head dropped back down as the other three slaves looked at each other in startled outrage.
“Quite sure, actually. I think he would perfectly compliment the personalities of my other two slaves.”
“Well,” he said, smiling at me, “I suppose all that’s left is to let you try him out.”
“Try him out?”
“Of course. You wouldn’t buy a car without driving it first, would you? That’s why bets are so idiotic when they’re done spur of the moment, you can never tell what you’ll get. This way you can have time to look the boy over, see if there are any defects or abnormalities. I wouldn’t want to be accused of giving you a lemon,” he finished causally, as though I were buying furniture from him.
“No. I suppose not,” I replied, somewhat stunned by this sudden proposal. Did he really expect me to just take the boy, right there on the floor, like his other two slaves had?
“Of course I’ll give you a room to use. If you have any time between taking him you can talk to the boy, if you think he’ll respond, and get to know him a little better. You can have him for the rest of the night, then simply leave him with me and come back for him tomorrow. He’ll need to alert the other slaves as to what chores they need to take over, of course.”
“Of course,” I responded, though I was only half listening. It had taken me almost a week to take Heero, and I had yet to take Quatre, for obvious reasons. I wasn’t certain that I would be able to simply take this beautiful boy whom I had only known for a few short hours. Could I bring myself to use him like a common street whore? But, if I did not, I might blow my cover, and then I would have no chance of shutting this filthy practice down. Still, I was not certain I would ever be able to wash the stain of this from my soul.
And the Duke instructed Nanashi to lead me to our room, and we were suddenly alone.

Zechs 42
Nanashi would not look at me when we entered the room, which I later realized was lavishly decorated in Victorian style, but at the time I only noticed the romantic fire lighting the dim room and the huge, heavy bed covered in red sating sheets and blankets.
The bed that I would rape my newest slave in.
I had no doubt that this one would be rape. With Heero, I had been given enough time to woo him, and I hoped that he had come to me at least partially of his own violation. Quatre had excused me from any sexual contact with him for the time being, and I entertained thoughts of wooing him once he returned to full strength. But with this slave it was different, for he had been told by his master to allow me to bed him, and I hadn’t the time to make any attempts at romancing him. For a short period I contemplated attempting to somehow fake using him, but quickly dismissed the idea. Not only was there the chance that Nanashi would report my actions to his master when I left him, but certainly people so caught up in a world of sex would know the signs of a forgery. And, were I to be found faking, it would be even more suspicious than simply refusing the slave.
And so I condemned both myself and Nanashi to a night of torment, and could only hope to make it somewhat enjoyable for him. I felt vaguely nauseous, and would be happy merely to escape the night without vomiting.
Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I reached out and touched Nanashi’s shoulder. My fingers grazed one of his rings and he flinched away from the touch. Nervous or repulsed, I couldn’t tell, and I wasn’t really sure it mattered. I sighed loudly.
“I’m not used to taking slaves that are not my own,” I said, only partially lying. I was only partially used to taking my own slaves.
“I will attempt to make your night pleasant in any way I can,” Nanashi assured, his head down in what I had come to know as his most common pose. “Just tell me what I should do.”
“I suppose helping me undress would be a good start,” I replied, spurring Nanashi to come help me out of my coat. His hands were quick and efficient, and soon I was left in only my boxers. “That’s enough,” I told him as he tried to divest me of the last of my clothing.
“Yes, Master Zechs,” he said, lowering his head and backing away.
I repressed a sigh as I noticed a bottle of brandy, and promptly made my way to it. It had been laid out just recently, as the ice had not begun to melt, but with no idea how many occupants would be using the room, for there were several glasses on the tray. After a moment’s hesitation, I filled two glasses, though mine was significantly fuller than the second, then turned and offered one of the glasses to Nanashi. He took it, but only stared at it, so that I began to regret my decision.
“You don’t have to drink it,” I offered as he continued to stare at the glass.
“I am allowed?” he asked, never moving his eyes.
“I thought it might... allow you to relax.”
“But I am allowed to drink it?”
“Yes, as long as the Duke doesn’t have any rules against it,” I said. The boy shook his head, then promptly downed the contents of the glass in a single gulp. It was bound to burn, but not an ounce of pain showed on his face and I was as impressed as I was concerned. It was impressive that the boy should have such a poker-face, but it worried me how well he could hide his emotions.
“You know, you don’t have to be so hidden now,” I told him, “There’s no one here who will harm you.”
“I am sorry, Master Zechs.”
“It’s alright, but things will go more smoothly if you relax,” I told him. His face was troubled and I worried that I was simply upsetting him more instead of calming his nerves.
“I am not used to freely expressing myself. Please, I am not trying to disobey you...” he said, visibly upset. I was not confused to why this time. Masters at Collar had shown a preference for emotional slaves, as long as those emotions were lust and affection. So a slave who was unable to fake these emotions, let a lone a slave who was unable to show any emotion at all, would not be highly prized at Collar. To Nanashi, this was the final test as to whether or not I would take him away from the Duke’s three harpies. It must have been at the forefront of his mind, that if he failed me he would return, not only to the henpecking of the other slaves, but also the wrath of the Duke for failing to please me. Until he was mine, there would be no relaxing for either of us.
I took the glass from the boy’s hand, turning to fill it so that I would not have to look at him. I was angry and frustrated with the situation, and with myself for not being able to stop it sooner, but I did not want the boy to think that my anger was directed at him. I filled the glass half way, then paused, thinking that it would not do to get the boy drunk. I reconsidered a moment later, however, for what did it matter if the boy was drunk or not? Perhaps if he were drunk he could more easily put this night from his mind, for I doubted he would find much pleasure in it.
I handed the now full glass of brandy to the boy with a command to drink it. I hadn’t paused to think of how the command would be interpreted and almost dropped my own glass as the boy proceeded to chug the fiery liquid.
“Not all at once!” I snapped, taking the glass back from the boy. He released it to me readily enough as he hunched over, falling to his knees, and made a small choking sound, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Are you alright?” I asked him as he continued to hold his mouth. Not that I blamed him. The brandy was powerful and even I, who had been capable of drinking like a sailor in my younger days, had been a little overwhelmed by its potency.
The boy nodded from his place on the floor, but continued to cough. I finished my own glass of brandy, then placed both glasses on the tray. I would not ask the boy to drink any more, he had taken enough, and I did not want to risk a repeat performance. It didn’t seem like I could do anything right with him.
“Have you been prepared?” I asked him, my back still turned.
“I don’t understand...”
“Have you been prepared for me?” I asked again, still unable to face him.
“I-... It doesn’t matter...”
“It does matter, damn it!” I snapped, turning to face him. I regretted it instantly, as the boy flinched hard and knelt submissively, curling his knees beneath him and resting his forehead on the floor. “Stop that,” I told him with a frustrated sigh as I watched the shaking back. “Sit on the bed,” I commanded. He did so gingerly, as if not moving fast enough would again enrage me. While he sat there, I began searching through the drawers, eventually finding a small bottle of scented oil. It would be messier than I had hoped, but it was useable. Better than taking him dry, I supposed.
I went to the bed and pulled one of the pillows from under the covers, putting it at about waist level on the bed.
“Lie down,” I commanded the boy, motioning to the bed. He hesitated a split second, then rose and lay himself where I had motioned. I adjusted the pillow, making sure his hips were raised enough, then slowly brought my hand to stroke across his ass. The rings, which weren’t really rings but tiny sticks with balls on either end to keep them from falling off, continued in two straight lines through the tender flesh of the boy’s bottom and I wondered if it was painful for him to sit. Gently, I toyed with one, but from the boy’s reaction I might have been twisting it, for he flinched and tensed until the muscles on his back stood out. I assumed that the piercing must be fresh and sore, so I quickly released the ring.
And then there was nothing left to do but do it, if the pun may be excused.

Zechs 43
And then there was nothing left to do but do it, if the pun may be excused.
Not allowing myself time for hesitation, I parted the boy’s soft cheeks and pulled the cap off of the oil, allowing it to spill down the boy’s back and into the deep crevice that his body created. The boy shifted, anxious I believe, but made no complaint. Swiftly, I parted the boy again with one hand and plunged the fingers of my other into his body. He was tight, but not virgin-tight, and I was grateful, because I knew I would not be able to properly loosen him without losing my resolve. As it was I stretched him throughly, but without my usual romance. He did not complain, which merely compounded the situation instead of alleviating it. It was so silent in the room that I almost felt alone, if it were not for the pulsating body beneath me as I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Is there no way to hear music in here? I think, perhaps, it would help set the mood, as it were,” I asked suddenly, hoping for something to distract me from my own actions.
“Behind the picture,” Nanashi said, his voice and demeanor unaffected by the pair of digits I had buried inside of his body. The thrum of his voice did, however, affect me, as the vibrations of his deep tenor pulsated through his body like a purr down to where my fingers were nestled inside him, readying him for something larger.
With great displeasure, I removed my fingers and went to the wall where, as promised, I found a music consol hidden behind a quaint landscape. With the press of a button a classical collection could be heard from speakers so well hidden that even my eyes, trained from years of service, could not find them.
As I returned to the bed, I removed the last of my clothing, well aware of what was next to come. The music pinnacled to a crescendo, as though it was aware of what was about to happen.
Nanashi remained almost unresponsive as I neared the bed, his only reaction being a quickening of breath. I stayed myself a bare moment to glimpse at what was before me.
He lay on top of the deep, red velvet comforter, seeming as though he was swimming in a pool of blood. The pure white pillows under his head and thighs were stark contrast to the red, but not so far from his creamy white skin. He lay in his stomach, his thighs parted in a forced invitation as enticing golden oils trailed from between his legs. At the other end of the bed, his arms had been raised to circle his head, giving me a clear view of his pale skin as it ran along his ribcage to his thighs. His head was turned toward me, but his eyes were cast away, as though there was something of the greatest importance happening in the cleft of his elbow. His green eyes were as fascinating as jewels, but as mysterious as them too. If I had wanted to read any emotion from them I could probably have found it, but the dominating one was a melancholy acceptance covering a loosely veiled fear.
I moved close to him, leaning toward his face as I attempted to get his attention. My hair spilled over my shoulder, catching his eyes as I pushed it back.
“Hey,” I said softly. Having realized only recently that this boy was no different from the boys I had already taken under my wing, I spoke to him in the same soft manner I was accustomed to with them. It was not so difficult to envision this shy youth amongst the two that already shared my home and my heart. “I know that things are happening very quickly. I know tonight is hard for you, and I’m sorry for rushing you like this. All I can promise you is that things will get better. Once you are truly mine, only then can I begin to show you what I mean. I’m sorry,” I said, leaning in to quickly place a chaste kiss on his slightly parted lips. The taste of brandy was on them and I was somewhat disappointed at not being able to find the taste of my new slave but, like everything else that night, I accepted it.
I had not allowed myself to feel it, for I was partially ashamed of it, but I was painfully aroused by the gorgeous youth beneath me. I couldn’t help but want what was given to me, and the attentions I had already paid to the boy’s body had not helped my active libido. My body was ready for him and, while my heart wanted more time, my mind told me that it was now or never.
Ending the kiss quickly, I backed down the boy’s body an caressed the insides of his thighs, where no rings had been placed. Sensing, with a certainty that I was unsure of, that the boy was ready, I placed my thighs on either side of his and began one long, slow, deep thrust home.
The boy let out a moan so loud, so long, and so full of lust that I almost slipped off the bed. I had never believed that the boy would be loud during our sex, and had not hoped his voice would be so beauteous if he were. With the backdrop of music that I had previously forgotten about, Nanashi let out a cry that seemed to be a song of lust and lechery.
Giving the boy a few quick, shallow thrusts I deemed him loose enough and began to thrust in earnest, garnering several more deep moans from him along with a harsh sob as he pulled his hips up to meet my thrusts with a passion of his own. It was not long before I came, for although it was not nearly as painful as I had previously thought it to be, I was still focused more on the outcome than the progression. I shot my seed into his receptive body, thrusting shallowly as he milked me, though I could tell it was forced and not from his own orgasm, then I let myself fall beside him. I gave myself a few moments to breath before gingerly pulling out of him.
“Are you alright?” I asked when my panting had slowed enough for me to ask without repetitive stops. He nodded, turning to face me, and I noted that he was still hard, leaking white, pearly fluid from the crown. “You did not come.”
He colored, more than he had been from sex, and I realized that he was blushing deeply. “I... I am not able,” he said, avoiding meeting my eyes. “Because of the piercings. They make it impossible for me to orgasm.”
“That hardly seems fair,” I said, concerned by this. “Is there any way to remove them?”
“No,” he responded. “They are more or less welded on. It would take wire-cutters to get them off,” he said, and I found as I looked closer that he was right. Each small piercing was made of a thin piece of metal, and both the balls on the end had been melted on.
“So... you can’t... for how long?” I asked.
“Only...” he began, but changed his mind, “It hasn’t been long.”
“Only what?”
“Only since the Duke got me. It’s only been a few months. I’m sorry if it displeases you.”
“Don’t be silly. You were wonderful. Now, however, I must ask you to help me dress. It is late, and I must return to my other slaves. I will return for you tomorrow. Will you need help carrying anything?”
“I don’t own anything,” he responded as he first helped me clean up, then dress.
“Ah. I had forgotten. Alright, then. You will be alright, tonight, won’t you? The other slaves...” I asked, uncertain of just how cruel the Duke’s slaves were allowed to be.
“They aren’t allowed to truly harm me,” he said, his head lowered.
“Are you certain? I’m sure, if I asked the Duke, he’d...”
“I am not worth such a battle, master. I will be fine,” he said, and only then did I force him to look at me.
“You are worth the battle, but if you’re sure you’ll be fine, I’ll skip it for tonight. I will be back for you tomorrow, however, so be prepared,” I told him, then exited the room.
Once out of the room, I found that the Duke had left a slave that I did not recognize to fetch Nanashi, as he had already retired for the night. I allowed him to lead Nanashi away and began to return to my own abode, exhausted from my earlier exploits. Once home, I barely had the energy to change, and probably would have fallen into bed naked if Heero hadn’t been there. The boy probably thought I was drunk and delirious when, as he crawled into bed next to me, I grabbed his wrist and suddenly ordered that he pick up wire-cutters the next time he was out. Surprised as he was, he instantly nodded and I had no doubt that he would get them, I just hoped that I remembered I had asked for them.

Trowa 44
I was warmer after Master Zechs left, I think from a combination of the brandy he had given me and the heat his body had left inside mine. He had been gentle, despite his thoughts to the contrary, and I was left with a warm afterglow that did not dissipate as I saw Star, another of the Duke’s slaves, who had come to meet us instead. It stayed with me as Master Zechs hurried home to his other slaves and up until the point where the other three cast-away slaves of the Duke met me at the door to the slaves’ quarters. Since we all slept in the same room, I wasn’t surprised to see them, but the vicious glares they gave me were an unwelcome surprise.
I hadn’t thought so far ahead. I had been too surprised by Master Zechs choosing me to think of more than what would happen to me. I hadn’t dreamed that I would be chosen, so it came as a complete surprise.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be chosen. Though life with the Duke and the other slaves was like living in purgatory, there was nothing to assure me that living with Master Zechs wouldn’t be hell. He was kind and gentle with me, who was merely an uneducated save, which told me that he probably wanted something very badly, or he planned to treat his slaves badly after he got them. His conduct when we first laid together was not what I expected, and it gave me some hope that my first impression might have been wrong, but it was not enough to completely change my opinion. Still, perhaps if I could please him he would not be so strict with me.
“I’m glad he took you,” Weave said, and I desperately tried to block his words from my head, but I had spent so many years listening in the shadows that it was impossible. “I was worried for a while that he’d pick me, but obviously he wanted someone who wouldn’t be missed.”
“Yeah,” Jaz chimed in, “I heard they had to take one of his slaves to the hospital, and the other has the most horrendous scars all over his back. Even the Duke won’t scar his slaves. He must be a monster.”
“Poor Nanashi,” Honey said with faked sympathy, “We’ll probably never see him again.”
“All the better!” Weave laughed.
“Jealousy is unbecoming of you,” I said before I managed to stop myself. They had tormented me for so long that it felt good to be able to return the favor, but I should have known better. In an instant, all their mirth was gone and they circled me like a pack of wild dogs.
“You should know better than to disrespect those smarter and prettier than you,” Weave hissed, casually running a hand down my back. The effect was immediate and I jerked in pain as the bars in my back sent a bolt of electricity through my body. Weave laughed, for he knew that a mere touch on one of my piercings sent waves of agony through my body. Previously it had given them leverage over me and made me bend to their will. I hoped that it would be different with a new master, but doubted that if his slaves found out they would be any different.
Another hand grazed my body, this time the back of my thigh. The force of the shock dropped me to the floor as if my leg had just cramped painfully. I gritted my teeth, but made no sound. Signs of distress would only provoke them. There was nothing I could do but wait them out, for running would provoke them to chase me then to hold me down, and fighting them would only get me in trouble with the Duke, who was worse than the three of them put together.
They continued to touch me gently for several minutes, laughing as I jerked and spasmed in agony. I was sweating by the time they walked off chuckling. I had only enough energy to crawl into the slaves’ quarters, a barren room with a few mattresses and blankets scattered about. I lay myself down on the cold stone floor that was my bed. The other three had earned pillows to lie on, but I had not pleased the Duke enough to gain one. The Duke was never pleased with me, because I would not scream for him any time outside of sex. The Duke was a sadist, and the pain of his slaves only caused him pleasure. Because of this, it only angered him further that he could only make me scream during sex.
For most of my life I had been a shadow, and so had learned to be silent as the darkness. I was... empty, and could only rouse the emotion necessary to make noise when a master was inside of me, filling me with their wretched seeds. Only then was it acceptable to scream, for the masters could feel how empty I was, and sought to fill me because of it. I had screamed often, and I had moaned sometimes, when it was not quite so bad, but I had never truly felt pleasure. Even with Master Zechs, who was by far the least painful of my tops, could not give me the pleasure of orgasm. I could only hope that, unlike the Duke, he not would trade my screams of pleasure for those of pain. But, still, no matter how hard the Duke tried, no matter how cruel he was, I could only scream in sex. Even when he turned the piercings to their highest setting... but I would not think of that.
I didn’t think Master Zechs knew, for he had seemed very naive about it before, when he touched one of my rings. At first I had thought that he might be punishing me, but he had let go, so he probably just didn’t know. I had no doubt the Duke would alert him soon, and I wasn’t certain how this new master would react. At least the Duke had turned the bars down somewhat when Master Zechs had taken me, so that only direct pressure would set them off. Having sex while every brush of the other’s body caused an electric shock was not pleasant, but the Duke had shown me several times that it was possible. I hoped Master Zechs would not enjoy taking me like that.
I tried to put the trio’s voices from my mind, but it was difficult, and my uncertainties fed them. The brandy in my stomach was making me nauseous and what had already been absorbed was quickly making my head funny. Its strong effect was partially due to the fact that I had not eaten in several days, but I was too comfortable with the feeling of warmth in my stomach to remove it. Allowing the drug to relax my body, I was quickly asleep.
The next morning, the Duke called for me early, meaning that I got only a little over two hours of sleep. It was more than I had gotten in the last two days. I was not surprised about how early he called me, for slaves were often worked hardest their last day of ownership.
The Duke was at breakfast in bed, two of his favorite slaves exhausted and asleep beside him. Dawn, one of the message carriers, escorted me in. I liked Dawn, for he had only been a slave for a few months and still had a kind spirit in him. It would flee soon, but I would like him all the same. I couldn’t blame him for losing something that would cause him so much trouble.
“So, Nanashi, it’s your last day here?” he said, staring at me with a smug expression. “I suppose you’re anxious to leave me,” he said. I did not respond, but I doubted he expected one. I had learned early on in my life, even before the Duke, that anything I could say would be wrong, so I most often kept silent. My silence sometimes angered my masters, but so did my words, so I kept my mouth closed and tried to stay hidden. I worried more about saying the wrong thing to the Duke and being punished than annoying him with my silence. I knew somewhere on his person lay the small controller with which he controlled the charge of my piercings. With it he could turn them completely off, or make them all shock me at the same time. The voltage was not extremely low. Were he to turn the voltage all the way on I could easily go into seizures and die in a matter of minutes. The last time he had allowed me to go for three minutes feeling as though I was holding on to a live wire. I would do anything to prevent that from happening again, but too often I was unsure of what would please the master, and had come close several times. It was my worst fear, and the strength of that fear wiped out almost all of my other emotions. I lived a life of fear and apathy, which only enraged the Duke further.
“Until tonight, though,” the Duke said, “you are still mine, and will obey my wishes. My body guards have not had the pleasure of one of my slaves in several days. You will service them, all of them, by tonight. One half is guarding me now, so you will have some time to relax as the guards switch. That is all. Leave,” he dismissed. I was not overly surprised, though I had only expected to do one troop. The Duke must have been very upset with me to order both.
“Should I feed him, sir?” Dawn asked.
“Let his new master feed him,” the Duke replied.
“But... he hasn’t eaten in three days,” Dawn replied. I had been punished by the Duke for another infraction by three days without food. It was common for a master to starve a new slave for three or four days upon buying it, then to hand feed the slave after that, thus forcing a bond between the master and slave. With the heavy activity I was likely to be involved in that afternoon I wasn’t sure I could stand that long without food. Unfortunately, the alternative to standing it was to die or steal from the master, which was equivalent to death.
“It isn’t my problem,” the Duke snapped. “Now move!”
The Duke’s anger prompted Dawn to rush as he grabbed me by the arm and led me out of the room. He led me directly to the quarters of the Duke’s body guards, where I was to seduce all sixteen men. It was a large job, but survivable as long as most of them wanted oral.
“I’m sorry,” Dawn mumbled as he opened the door for me.
“It isn’t any fault of yours,” I told him softly as I walked in.

Zechs 45
I didn’t feel like going to another party, but I certainly didn’t feel like spending the evening alone. Unfortunately, with Quatre in the hospital and Heero spending much of the day with him, my options were limited. Knowing this, long after Heero was gone I dragged myself out of bed that second day to dress and head to the party.
I was early to the party, which wasn’t entirely unexpected, but I was surprised to find that Nanashi was not waiting for me. Upon asking where he was, I was told by another slave that he was bathing, and that he would come to me as soon as he was finished.
“Here to pick up your slave already?” the Duke asked with a smile. “Aren’t we a little anxious?”
“Bored is more like it,” I responded lightly, “and ready to take my new acquisition home so that we may become... better acquainted.”
“But you will stay for the party, won’t you?”
“I certainly wouldn’t want to insult your hospitality, but you mustn’t blame me if I duck out a little early.”
“Excellent. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the cuisine. One of my slaves is in charge of all the cooking. Of course, all the slaves can cook, including yours and- ... Oh! I almost forgot. I meant to give this to you,” he said, handing me a small remote with a large red dial in the middle. I stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do, as the Duke continued. “Nanashi will show you what to do with that,” the Duke said as a slave wrapped in bright red ribbon and nothing else came up beside him. I put the remote in my pocket as his attention was diverted, resolved to ask Nanashi about it later. “Ah! Have you seen my newest pet? I get one every three months or so. Actually, Nanashi was my last pet, but he didn’t work out as I had hoped. Perhaps you will have better luck. Well, anyway, this is Ribbon,” the Duke said, taking the red-haired boy by the hand. I looked closer at the slight boy and made a shocking realization.
The ribbon, which I had previously thought wrapped around the boy, wrapped through him!
The ribbon began with his arms, stabbing through the soft flesh under his arms, then through the flesh covering his ribs, then back to his arms, so that he could only lift his arms to a certain height and lifting them caused the illusion of wings. From there, it descended in a spiral pattern around and through his stomach until it met his groin. Once there, the ribbon laced itself across his thighs and through the soft flesh on top and underneath his penis. Below that it merely laced back and forth to nearly the slave’s ankles, restricting his movement and forcing him to take tiny steps. At his back, the ribbon was laced like a corset over the boy’s spine until it tied in a neat bow at the bottom. It was a grotesque picture.
“I must admit,” the Duke continued, “that Ribbon has much exceeded my expectations. A marvelous piece of work, much better than Nanashi. Ah, speaking of which, good luck with him,” the Duke said, them moved away as Nanashi moved toward me. Like most slaves, Nanashi knelt in submission at my feet in greeting. I stifled the urge to roll my eyes and motioned for him to get up.
Nanashi looked tired and more worn than he had been when I last left. His face was pale and pasty. Upon closer inspection I noticed make-up partially hiding bags under his eyes. He looked ill, almost faint.
“Are you alright?” I asked before I could think of my words.
“I’m fine,” Nanashi responded, never meeting my eyes, “Merely tired.”
“Ah,” I said, not truly understand what could have made him so tired but knowing that it must have been the Duke, “We will leave early, then, as soon as dinner is over. Until then, come sit with me in the library.”
“You are too kind, master,” Nanashi replied. Though his voice was only vaguely grateful his face told me what I needed to know as I saw the lines of relief standing out on his brow. My new slave had been through a hard night and deserved some rest. With that in mind, I led the way to the library, which had been so peaceful the night before.
Unfortunately, we were not the first there this night. Instead, the library had been converted into an arena for this night’s entertainment, with all the furniture having been pushed to the walls, leaving the center open. A long-haired slave was tied and gagged in the middle of the library’s large rug while a group of three lecherous masters watched with glee and impatience.
The creature, who was gagged but not blindfolded, had the most stunning purple eyes, which turned to me the instant I entered the room with a beseeching and only partially aware look. He was not crying, but his eyes were wet with unshed tears. His hands were tied in front of him, making him look as though he were begging.
One of the men came from the corner of the room to the boy and knelt behind him. Immediately, the tears were singed away by a fire that came from deep within the boy. He kicked with his legs, lashing out at the man behind him, catching him feebly in the shoulder and knocking him backwards. It only served to enrage the bigger, brutish master, who now grabbed the boy’s head and slammed it into the floor.
“Damn brat!” the man yelled, a hand going to his belt as he held the boy down by his hair. “I’ll teach you manners, sewer scum!” he yelled, pulling the belt from his trousers and holding it above his head like a weapon. It gleamed in the candle light, catching the boy’s eyes, which were suddenly filled with terror.
There was nothing I could do to stop myself. If it hadn’t been for Quatre’s experience, perhaps I could have allowed it, but even that is not for certain. Perhaps, because I still had a soul, I could never truly be a master. I was fine with that knowledge, as long as no one else was privy to the secret.
Whatever the cause, I darted in and grabbed the man’s hand before he could bring the belt down on the naked slave’s back. The man looked at me, startled, as I glared down at him, unrelenting.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, beginning to get self-righteously angry.
“There’s no need to beat him so, sir. I assure you, he can do very little damage, as small and thin as he is. I’m sure the bindings, also, would not aide him.”
“Don’t underestimate the bitch,” he said with a sneer. “That one’s been through battles with slaves bigger ‘en me and came out on top.”
“There’s still no reason to be cruel. If you were a bit more patient, perhaps he’d behave better. Besides, there’s no use in seriously damaging a slave.”
“Especially a slave that is not yours,” the Duke’s voice chimed in behind me. “I assure you, Master Caldwell, that if I had been forced to pay full price for the Shinigami because you had damaged him there would have been a bounty of the same price on your head.”
“I wasn’t...” he protested, but the Duke cut him off.
“Save it. I saw the whole thing. Now get drunk and beat your own slaves, or I’ll be forced to throw you out.”
The man left with a huff, jerking away from my hold before storming out. I looked down at the shaking boy before me. If this was really the Shinigami, I was far from impressed.

Zechs 46
“Is that really the legendary Shinigami?” I couldn’t help but ask the Duke.
“The one and only,” he replied, smirking. “Don’t let his size fool you. He’s a killer, and has been ever since his first master died. Completely savage, so bad that he has to be drugged before anyone can even handle him. He’s injured several slaves and masters this year alone.”
“So he’s yours?” I asked, and the Duke actually laughed.
“Not on your life. The Shinigami is fun for a party, but he’s notorious for getting into trouble, and usually distracts a master so much that he can’t train his other slaves. That’s why no one takes him as their own. At least, those who have enough money to buy him are usually pretty serious about Collar. A first place winner in three sections? That means that the Collar staff is selling him as a Collar slave, and won’t take less than a Collar price even though nobody wants him. So, to offset the cost of keeping him, they rent him out for functions like this. As long as he comes back without a scar, the price is only a percentage of what his buying price is.”
“It seems cruel, to move him around so.”
“Well if he behaved he’d certainly have a permanent place to stay, but he won’t. He brings it on himself. They all do,” he assured. I nodded with fake understanding and knelt next to the boy, who was pulling against his bonds. I could see, as I looked at his eyes, that he was mildly drugged.
“I’ll let my slaves give him another dose of drugs,” the Duke commented, motioning to a pair of slaves. “It should be enough to keep him quiet for the rest of the night.”
“Are you sure that’s necessary?”
“It’s for the best. He’ll only hurt himself fighting us if we left him lucid.”
“Ah,” I responded and watched as the slaves moved in on Shinigami. He watched them intently. From my studies of the martial arts and fighting techniques, I could see, just before he lashed out at the pair, his muscles tensing in preparation. Then he kicked at the pair, sending the two sprawling backwards, and all hell broke loose as they attempted to retaliate. Shinigami was vicious, moving spastically, with a strength I hadn’t expected to come out of the small body. The three slaves suddenly became a tangled mass of limbs and bodies. Though Shinigami was obviously at a disadvantage, he was holding his own against the two bigger slaves, but it was useless. He would only get himself hurt with the constant fighting. And, from the angry looks the other two slaves had begun to give him, he might get hurt badly.
It was with that thought fueling my resolve that I decided to intervene. Quickly stepping into the fray, I inserted myself between the Duke’s two slaves and Shinigami. I motioned for them to stay put and, though they cast heated glares behind me, they did as commanded. Behind me, Shinigami was on his back, biting down on the gag in his mouth and staring at me with the gaze of a rabid wolf. I moved slowly toward him, watching his body, so that when he lashed at me with his legs I could easily dodge and grab him around the middle. I pulled him up, getting him off the floor so that he could not kick with any power, then pulled his legs to my side so that he could not kick at all. With his size and weight, he was not able to kick out my hold, though he tried valiantly. Giving up with his legs, he attempted to head-butt me, so I grabbed his head with my other hand. The final product was me holding most of his weight with my hand on his thighs, keeping him still with a hand on his forehead, while the two slaves injected him with the drugs as he thrashed against me.
When it was over, I pulled him down to the floor, for he was much easier to hold while I was sitting. I continued to keep him locked in my embrace as he thrashed, resisting the drugs. But even the legend was only human, and eventually he succumbed. I watched the energy drain out of him, until he was calm and placid as any house-pet. He gazed up at me with the same affection I had seen in my favorite hunting dog. Somewhere underneath all the bravado I saw the same hopes, dreams, and desire to be loved as any other human, but as the cloud of drugs took hold of his conscious there was nothing but an animalistic haze. It was sickening to see one with such a strong soul brought so low by means as dirty as drugs and abuse.
I stayed there for a moment, rocking the boy as he leaned his head dizzily against my chest. A ghost of a smile crossed his face, which was gratitude enough for the small pleasure I was giving him. I wanted to protect him, just as I wanted to protect all the slaves.
“Sir?” came the voice of another master, “I’ll take him from you, if you don’t mind. It’s my turn.”
“Oh, yes,” I said, not fully understanding what was going on. I handed the passive boy up to the man, who took him and gently laid him on the floor. I turned my back on them, and when I turned around again I saw that the master was violently thrusting into the silent boy.
I stared, stunned, for more than a moment. I opened my mouth, but there was nothing I could say without blowing my cover. The slave was not mine, and he had been brought for this exact purpose. To think that I had helped made me vaguely nauseous, but I knew this would be the result no matter what I did. Had I not intervened, it would have only been that much worse on the boy.
In disgust and helplessness, I turned and stormed out the door, Nanashi following close at my heels.

Zechs 47
“Is there somewhere else we can go?” I asked Nanashi once we were out of the room. “Somewhere quiet and private? I... don’t think I can handle people right now, but it’s far too soon to leave.”
“There is another library in the Duke’s quarters, master.”
“Take me there,” I told him, and he quickly took the lead. We walked out of the hallway and into the central hall, then turned down another, even long corridor. I was stunned by the sheer size of the Duke’s property. I had assumed that I had only been given a small apartment (which by most standards was actually quite large) because it was my first year. How long had the Duke been here? Could he be the leader?
“How did the Duke ever manage to get so many rooms?” I asked the quiet boy in front of me.
“He won Collar,” Nanashi replied quickly, perhaps thinking that waiting for an answer would anger me.
“I thought masters just won prestige.”
“Yes, but they are also allowed bigger apartments and have no limit on the amount of slaves they can purchase. They are also the only ones allowed to throw parties,” he informed while opening one of the doors. Inside was another library, this one small enough to be a sort of study instead of a real library. It looked more modern, with no fireplace and only a simple green couch in front of the three bookshelves and one desk.
“How many slaves can a normal master own, if there is a limit?” I asked as I entered and dropped onto the couch, feeling wrung out.
“Twenty,” Nanashi replied quietly, coming to sit at my knees.
“Ah,” I replied, somewhat relieved. There was no way I would get seventeen more slaves in the next week. I had only gained two in the past two weeks.
“Master?” Nanashi said timidly, “Would you like another back rub?”
“No, that’s alright,” I told him, for I really didn’t feel like being pampered now that I felt like a cad for what I’d done to Shinigami, then immediately regretted not taking the invitation, as Nanashi hung his head. I could see from his slumped shoulders that he either thought I was mad at him or that his back rubs were not good enough. It was preposterous, because his back rubs were wonderful, and I didn’t feel like I was good enough to deserve one at the moment. As for being mad at him, I wasn’t sure it was possible, for it seemed that he would rather break his own foot than make me mad.
“Come and sit with me,” I offered suddenly, hoping that I could make up to him. “I want to know more about you.”
Nanashi hesitated a moment, then moved onto the couch beside me, sitting gingerly on his ankles. It worried me, that he was still sore from the previous night. I had not thought I was being so rough with him, but perhaps it had simply been too long since he had been taken, and I had rushed him too much. His face was towards me though his still would not look at me.
“What would you like to know, master?” he asked.
“Well... Nanashi is your slave-name, right? What is your real name?”
“I have no name,” he answered solemnly.
“Uh...” I hesitated, wondering what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”
“I am an orphan.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t have a name. You must have been called something before you got here.”
“Then I suppose Nanashi is my real name, for it was what the mercenary group that found me as a baby called me.”
“Mercenaries?”
“Hm. They found me as a toddler and took me in to clean the barrels of their guns for them. My hands were the only ones that could fit. They cared for me and kept me alive. When I was too big to clean the guns, they sold me to a circus.”
“A circus bought you?” I asked, hoping the ring of human slavery I was hearing about didn’t extend that far. If it wasn’t an isolated ring, if Collar wasn’t the only one and there were hundreds of other rings, it would be nearly impossible to put a stop to it.
“Bought my services, I suppose. I was a child, so I really had no choice but to do what the adults said, since I couldn’t survive on my own,” he said, somewhat relieving my fears. Selling children was a crime against humanity, but selling their labor or making them work for food... well, it certainly wasn’t smiled upon, but it wasn’t illegal. “It was alright though. There was a woman named Catherine there who took good care of me. She made sure I had something to eat every day, and even cooked it herself, though I probably would have been better eating it raw from the way she cooked. She taught me to throw knives, and to tumble, and use the trapeze, and let me work with the lions.”
“It sounds wonderful. But how did you end up here, then?”
“The circus fell on hard times. Our star attraction, a sharpshooter, accidentally shot someone and killed him. The sharpshooter ran from police, and the circus was fined heavily. They couldn’t afford such a high expense, so they had to sell some of the lions. A very rich man came to look at them and saw me. Instead of buying the lions, he bought me. From what I’ve heard, the price I was sold for was enough to save the circus.”
“What about the woman that cared for you? Catherine, what did she do?”
“Before I left the man who bought me gagged me and put me in a crate. While I was there, I overheard the circus master telling Catherine that one of the lions had eaten me. She screamed like the man who had been shot did right before he died. They had to carry her out of the room. Later that night, my new master had me in a cage while he watched the news. They said that Catherine had gone crazy and killed all of the lions. I was very sad. The lions had been my friends.”
“So what does it say on your papers? Certainly it doesn’t say Nanashi.”
“It says Trowa 10-3 Barton. Trowa Barton was the name of the mercenary who cared for me when I was with them. Right before I was sold, he died. I stole his name, thinking that maybe I could keep him alive a little longer by using it.”
“Would you rather I called you Nanashi, then?”
“Either is good. I will come no matter what you call me.”
“I see. Well then, Trowa, should we head to dinner?”
“Yes, master.”

Heero 48
Quatre watched for me every day at lunch time, staring at the door for long periods of time. The nurses said it was weird and wanted to sedate Quatre, but I knew he was just very lonely for master and myself. Quatre liked to be around people, and despite his fears was very affectionate. It was hard for him to be alone, like he was a lot of the time at the hospital because the nurses were so busy. The stark white colors didn’t help either, for they seemed to drained the life out of the place. I knew that by coming to see Quatre everyday, by talking to him for several hours, I was letting him know that I hadn’t forgotten him, and that master hadn’t forgotten him, and that he still had a place to go back to.
“...you will have to tell your master about this eventually,” I heard the doctor say as I approached Quatre’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see the doctor sitting in a chair, my chair, next to the bed, talking in serious tones to a somber looking Quatre.
“I will, just... not yet. I’ve been such a bother already...”
“I understand,” the doctor said compassionately, handing the blonde boy a bottle of pills. “I can give you this much for now, but your master must buy more when it runs out.”
“Thank you,” Quatre replied, quickly hiding the bottle in a drawer next to his bed, unlike the other bottles of medicine, which were sitting in plain view on top of the cabinet. I decided it was time to make my entrance and pushed the door open, startling the two occupants. Quatre swiftly covered the traces of shock and guilt on his face, greeting me warmly.
“Heero,” he smiled, only it looked a little more strained than usual, “I’m so glad you came.”
“I’ll be taking my leave now,” the doctor said, patting my shoulder as he left. “You take care of him now. He’s a good boy,” he assured, then left the room.
What a suspicious sequence of events. But I ignored it, for now. The doctor would not give him anything harmful, and Quatre was fairly reliable himself, so I had a hard time believing that it was anything very bad. I wouldn’t report him and, without a direct confrontation, there was really no way to make him tell me. So I would wait to see how things progressed.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Better, but I’m still sleeping too much.”
“The nurses say your not sleeping enough.”
“That’s not true. I just wake up when they come in. I can, kind of, tell when they’re coming, and it wakes me up.”
“Oh. So you are sleeping well?”
“Yes. I’m trying to gain my strength back. I want to go back to master. And I feel bad about making you stay here all day while master goes to parties.”
“It’s alright, I’d rather be here,” I let slip, then instantly knew my mistake.
“Why?”
“You know I hate parties,” I covered, but Quatre wouldn’t have it. He had the uncanny ability to read people, which he had used on me several times in the last few days.
“What’s the real reason?” he asked, and I could do nothing but tell him.
“The master is purchasing another slave,” I replied, and saw the implications of this action dawn on him. Quatre, master, and I had formed a relationship that was close and caring, a relationship that was rare among slaves and even rarer between masters and slaves. Another slave, one different from our original relationship, could put everything off. It could force one or more slaves out of the equation, or completely change the scenario.
“I-is he replacing me?” Quatre asked me, his voice shaking slightly.
“No,” I assured immediately. The master asked of Quatre’s health almost every night, sometimes asking me to send his love before I left. Quatre, I think, didn’t believe me about this and thought I was making it up, but master certainly hadn’t forgotten him.
“Is he... Is he replacing you?” he asked, the fear still in his voice. My answer was hesitant, and not nearly so convinced. After all, I was the one who had messed up at Master Scrub’s party, and who hadn’t noticed Quatre’s sickness and let it get this bad. Perhaps hurting Quatre had finally pushed master over the edge of what he would forgive me for.
“I... don’t know,” I replied honestly. There were tears in Quatre’s eyes, and he reached out and took my hand. Our bond was special, because a slave is never allowed to have friends, and that was what we were. Quatre spoke no words, knowing that there was nothing he could say to make me feel better, nor to change the situation. Still, feeling the pain he felt for me, knowing someone cared so much, gave me hope.
“When is he coming?” Quatre asked after a long period of silence.
“Tonight,” I replied and saw him flinch.
“So soon?”
“Master picked him out yesterday. Apparently he and Master Marcel had an agreement for him to get one of the Duke’s slaves. It really doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to be done now.”
“But... surely master won’t leave you. You’re his first slave.”
“Not all masters are so sentimental. It would not be unheard of for the first slave bought to be the first slave to go.”
“Stop it!” Quatre snapped, fisting his hands in the sheets. “You can’t think like this! Master would never do such a thing to you! He’s not that kind of master! Just... Just leave me alone!” he sobbed, and I could see that I was upsetting him, so I quietly got up and left.
At the doorway, he called to me, saying my name as though he was calling for help.
“You-... You’ll come back tomorrow, won’t you?” he asked, his voice shaking, tears threatening.
“If I can,” I replied simply. I wanted to assure him, but I didn’t want to have to break a promise. If I were... replaced, then my new master would not let me come see Quatre. If I had a new master. If I were even alive.
I shut the door to Quatre’s room with a sense of foreboding. I didn’t want to return to master’s apartment, but I knew better than to put it off with no where to go. It wasn’t late by the collar schedule, but I knew that master was not really adjusted and would go to sleep early if he could. There was a sixty-six percent chance that he was either still out or sleeping.
Chance won out, and when I got in I found that master was, indeed, already asleep, his new slave curled beside him. I padded to the doorway, but couldn’t see well enough to tell more than that he was tall and slender. He wasn’t extremely close to master as they slept, but their foreheads pressed together, and I could tell that already they were starting to bond.
Standing in the doorway, watching them, I felt like a child looking into a window. I could see what I wanted, but there was a barrier between us. I could see the warmth I craved, but I was so afraid of losing the light from just looking that I dared not move out of the cold. I could not bring myself to enter, so I turned away and walked back to the den.
Once there, I found another dilemma for myself. I was sure that I couldn’t enter the bedroom, but I was not sure where I could go. I had never officially been told that I could sleep in the slaves quarters, so there was no saying that master didn’t want me to sleep by the door.
Overcome by this indecision, I eventually settled for resting on the couch. It would be close enough for me to hear if master called me, but far enough away that I could block out the sounds if they decided to... become better acquainted.
I allowed myself to sink into the corner of the couch, pulling my legs up and resting my arms on my knees. It was strange. I knew that all the rooms at Collar were kept very warm because of all the naked slaves. So why did it suddenly feel so cold?

Zechs 49
I awoke to a scream.
At first, I was strangely disoriented. I remembered bringing Trowa back to the apartment after a long and excruciating dinner. I had asked him if he would like to bathe, and had offered to help him. Trowa was, obviously, not body shy, so he accepted and I bathed with him. While helping him, I had found several bruises on his back, legs, and thighs that I was sure I hadn’t made and had not been there before. I called him on them.
“The Duke... he always drives his slaves hardest right before they are given away, to get the most use out of them. I was... busy after you left. I apologize.”
There was really nothing I could do; I couldn’t be mad at him because he had not been given a choice and I couldn’t really be surprised with Duke after all I had seen. Instead I sighed and simply took a cream I had bought for Heero out of the drawer, telling him it would help take the soreness away. I was sure to check him thoroughly to be sure he had not been torn. Whoever had... dealt with him had not been gentle, but they had at least known what they were doing. He was bruised and terribly sore, but there was nothing torn or bleeding. It was certain to fade quickly with the applications of the cream, and I applied it generously for him, sure to place it on every hurt. There was nothing I could do now that it was done, but I would not be so helpless in the future. It seemed that only as my slave was he safe.
Once he was relaxed and I was dressed for bed we both climbed in. Trowa was somewhat shy, keeping a cushion of space between us on the bed, but he didn’t flinch away as I kissed his forehead and allowed are heads to press together as I fell asleep. Better than Quatre had done but not as good as Heero. Speaking of which, I wondered how soon he would be home. I missed holding him in my arms as I drifted to sleep, and it was nice waking to his light form draped across my chest.
None of this, I decided as I sat there in shocked silence, accounted for the scream that I had just heard.
It came again, and I glanced beside me on the bed at Trowa, but he was awake and alert, looking just as surprised as I was. Quatre, who had been known for crying in his sleep, was currently at the hospital.
I realized who I was missing as the scream sounded a third time from the other room and I jumped out of bed, darting toward the door. Heero, I found, was curled up in a ball, tucked into the corner of the couch, trying to make himself as small as possible. His face was contorted in pain and fear, his body shaking. As I approached I saw him suddenly jerk, as if something had stung him, and twist, falling off the couch. I dove and managed to catch him before he hit the floor, pulling him into my lap as I cushioned his fall with my body. His eyes opened and honed in to my face, still filled with fear and pain.
“Master?” he questioned softly, his voice still holding the quiver of nightmare.
“What were you doing out here, Heero?” I asked him, wondering why he hadn’t come to bed. I had never known him to have such screaming nightmares when I held him, and I certainly would have noticed one as violent as this.
“I- I wasn’t sure where you wanted me,” he said, diverting his eyes from mine to look at his hands. A second later, movement from behind me caught his eye and he glanced over my shoulder, only to look away a moment later with tears in his eyes.
Glancing over my shoulder I found Trowa watching us with a guarded look on his face, eyeing Heero suspiciously, and everything fell into place.
“Heero, I-.. That isn’t what this is about. He’s not competition, damnit, he’s here to help. I can’t keep putting everything on you, Angel.”
“I’m not weak,” he defended angrily, “I could handle it.”
“I know you could, but I won’t allow it. You’d hurt yourself trying to do everything, and I simply won’t have that.”
I rose to my feet, Heero in my arms, and began to walk toward the bedroom. Trowa, as much a slave as Heero, eyed me warily, wondering where he should go. I inclined my head toward the bedroom and allowed Trowa to proceed me. Once there I motioned for Trowa to enter the bed first, then situated myself between the two boys. Gently, but with the force of a master I hoped not to be, I pulled Heero and Trowa close to me, allowing Trowa only the cushion of space he had previously had. Then, with a slave’s head on either shoulder, I settled in to sleep.
It might take a while, but one way or another my slaves would learn to get along.

Heero 50
When I awoke the next morning, I could feel master’s eyes on me, and see his new slave sleeping on the other side of him, his back to us. He motioned for me to get up and we both got out of bed, leaving the newest addition to the household sleep.
Once out of the bedroom, master and I gravitated toward the kitchen, and ended up sitting on the bar stools facing one another. I kept my head down, afraid he would be disappointed with my behavior last night. I had not had a nightmare in a very long time, probably because even in the warehouse there were always slaves around me when I slept, usually within reach of my cage. It was only when I was alone that the nightmares hit, and I had felt so very alone last night.
My only consolation that night had been that master had again saved me, waking me from the nightmare and taking me back into the warmth. When master had taken me into his room I had been too grateful to refuse, too frightened to protest. I hadn’t wanted the other slave there, for I had still felt that he was a threat, but I would not risk angering master by protesting.
I doubted the other slave would become close to any of us as Quatre and I had. Friendships were rare in Collar, as I well knew, and there was something in Trowa’s eyes that told me he knew how to play games of betrayal and deceit. Quatre had been so quickly beaten by the games of the slaves of his last master that he had never really learned how to play, though I didn’t doubt he knew how to lie, and I had yet to be forced to play the game in master’s house. I didn’t want to stoop back to that level, but to protect Quatre and myself I would not hesitate to do so.
There was a pregnant silence in the kitchen, and then master spoke.
“I meant what I said last night,” he said, causing me to raise my head just the slightest. “The addition of Trowa does not take anything away from you or Quatre. I don’t want his presence here to alarm you, and I don’t want you to make him feel like an outcast.”
“I understand,” I said in monotone, resolved to do what was necessary to protect myself and Quatre, even if that meant lying to master.
“Heero, you must believe me, Trowa is not going to replace either you or Quatre. Do you understand? I need you to believe me,” he said, staring intently at me. Under his harsh gaze, my resolve wilted. If I allowed my own actions to change because of the new slave, was I not changing the schematics of our household just as much as Trowa’s actions would have? Lying to the only master who had ever treated me with any decency was not the solution to the problem. It would merely compound it.
“I... I am trying,” I said honestly, and could see in master’s face that he was happier with this honest answer than he could have been with any other.
“I know you are. Just... try to trust me. And be nice to Trowa. Do you remember how hard your and Quatre’s first days with me were? He’s going to need to know that he’s not going to be isolated. Just... try to get to know him, alright? That’s all I ask,” he said. I nodded, and master kissed me, then went to order breakfast.
Trowa came out as I was bringing breakfast in. I set the tray down on the counter and approached him. He was taller than me by several inches, though still a couple inches shorter than master. Despite this he seemed to dwarf beside master, as many people did, because he kept his head down and his shoulders slumped. I didn’t like having to look up at him, but I had long grown accustomed to my short stature and did not let it bother me. He was thin, as I had noticed last night, and had a hungry look to him that slaves get when they haven’t eaten in a few days. Being that he was up for bets, there was a possibility his master had cut his rations, and I didn’t want to have to clean up a mess in the kitchen.
“Are you going to vomit?” I asked him at point blank. I could feel master’s eyes on me, watching to make sure we didn’t fight. Trowa looked surprised by this question, his one visible green eye opening slightly in surprise before he shook his head in negative. I nodded an affirmative and turned around to meet master’s questioning stare.
“Heero, what was that about?” he asked me, still naive to some aspects of a slave’s life.
“He looked hungry. There was a good possibility he hadn’t eaten in several days. I didn’t want him to mess up the kitchen.”
“Trowa?” he asked, trying to confirm what I had said. Again the boy merely nodded, confirming my information without words. “Well... don’t go to bed hungry. You should have said something last night. Actually, don’t go anywhere hungry. There’s always food in the refrigerator. I don’t want you to be afraid to eat. Just go and get something if you’re hungry, no one’s going to punish you,” he said, but I could tell Trowa only half believed him. I think master could too, because he sighed before he sat down at the table. We followed quickly after.
Once at the table, Trowa and I sat on the same side, one chair away from the other, while master sat in the middle chair on the other side. There was oatmeal for breakfast, with maple syrup, honey, brown sugar, and fruit to go with it along with apple juice, orange juice, and milk. I served the table, giving Trowa a small portion after giving his pallor a suspicious glance.
“Heero,” master remonstrated, and I sighed before looking him in the eye.
“I’m not being rude. He probably won’t even eat that much, if he hasn’t eaten in a few days. If he forces it, he’ll just be sick.”
“Ah,” master said, I think recalling my first day with him, “I see. Well, Trowa, if you are still hungry feel free to get more, and make sure you snack throughout the day.”
“Yes, master,” he said demurely, but I wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t all an act. Once master had found submission in him, perhaps he thought master would be easier to manipulate against Quatre and I. I would keep a close eye on Trowa.
Breakfast was quiet, and Trowa proved me right by leaving a bit of his porridge uneaten, as I was fairly certain he would. Once my breakfast was eaten, I could not find it in me to stay in a room so filled with tension, and fled to the bath.

Zechs 51
The tension did not dissipate with Heero out of the room, though I really hadn’t expected it to. Instead, Trowa and I sat in the same tense silence together, until I finally asked him if he’d like to freshen up in the slave’s bathroom.
“There should be a hairbrush in there somewhere, and I made sure that it had toothbrushes and toothpaste. Feel free to use any, they’re all new.”
Trowa nodded and rose, as eager to escape the feeling of foreboding as Heero was, I think. With him out of the room and nothing to occupy myself with, I suddenly remembered the tiny remote the Duke had given me. I had slipped it into a kitchen drawer after the party, too tired to really worry about it. Now, without any distractions, I rose and fetched the tiny plastic box, contemplating it as I waited for Trowa, so that I could ask him about it directly.
“What’s that?” Heero asked, coming out of the bedroom fresh from the shower. His hair was still sopping wet as he toweled it dry, a thin pair of shorts covering his modesty as the rest of him was bare, damp, and wonderfully covered in a thin lair of moisture. I was forced to restrain my more base urges as I watched the play of water on muscle. Heero, typically, was unaffected.
“The Duke gave it to me, said to ask Trowa about it.”
“Then be careful,” he said as I twisted the knob down from where it had been in the middle.
“What’s the worst that it could do?” I wondered, then decided to heed Heero’s words just in case. I began to turn the knob back to its original place, but there was a sudden gasp from behind me, so loud and close that I jumped. My hand slipped, turning the knob all the way up as I turned to see what had happened behind me.
I turned just in time to see Trowa’s eyes roll back into his head as his body dropped like a rock and begin to spasm wildly on the floor. Shocked, I dropped the remote and rushed to Trowa’s side, Heero right beside me. I attempted to grab him to keep him from thrashing and hurting himself, but was hit with electricity the moment I touched him. Heero, who was still wet from the shower, was hit harder and knocked on his butt.
“There’s got to be a live wire or something!” I hissed to Heero, beginning to panic. It looked as though Trowa was being electrocuted, and from the power of the shock I had received I knew we had only precious moments to turn it off before the boy’s heart stopped.
“There’s nothing near him!” Heero replied, repeating only what I already knew. Still, there had to be something hurting him.
“M-m-m-mas-s-ster-r-r, p-p-p-p-pleas-s-s-se,” Trowa said, trying to speak around his spasming body, “t-t-t-t-turn-n-n it-t-t of-f-f-f-f-f-f!”
“Turn what off?” I asked, leaning close to him.
“Th-h-he r-r-r-re-e-m-m-mo-t-t-t-te!” he cried, then seemed to give up, allowing his eyes to roll back and giving his body free reign to flail.
It only took me a second to realize what he was talking about, and I jumped off the floor and dashed for the counter. Reaching it, I scrambled for the remote and wrenched the dial all the way to the bottom.
It was only when I saw that Trowa was still did I let myself once again drop the remote and collapse beside him, this time panicking for another reason. The boy was now far too still, his chest rising and falling only slightly. He was barely breathing.
“Trowa?” I called, shaking his shoulder, “Trowa!” I hissed, shaking harder with still no result. “Trowa, damnit! Open your eyes! Respond to me! I swear, I’ll- I’ll- I’ll turn it back on, damn you! Open your eyes!”
This threat, though harsh, had the desired result. Trowa opened his eyes and gasped, focusing on me.
“Mas-...” Trowa said, only getting half of the word out before he began to cough. Relief flooded me as Heero helped me turn him on his side. “Masser,” he said a moment later, “please, don’t! I-...”
“Shh,”I told him, still recovering from the shock of the attack, “Save your strength. I would never do such a thing,” I told him. He nodded, still on his side, and allowed his eyes to close. I asked Heero to help me turn him over and we helped the barely conscious boy to his back.
“I don’t... I don’t understand what could have happened,” I said, turning what must have been a lost look on Heero.
“I-...” he hesitated, looking at Trowa with great intent. “I think I know what might have happened. I’ve seen it before, but never so many. Master’s... they don’t want to leave a mark on their slaves, so they hit them with an electric pulse. Usually the conductor is in the slave’s collar, but sometimes... they put them in earrings.”

Trowa 52
Master was frowning deeply. My heart suddenly jumped to my throat. I knew Heero had said something about my piercings, but I wasn’t sure what. What if I had somehow displeased the master? What if he turned it back on?
I must have whimpered, because master was suddenly looking at me with concern.
“I’m sorry...” I tried to say, while sitting up. I was cut off by the room suddenly tilting sideways and could only moan as I dropped my head back to the hard wooden floor.
“Don’t move,” master warned, reaching over to snag a throw pillow from the couch. He lifted my head, causing the room to spin again, then settled me onto the pillow. I closed my eyes, and when I next opened them Master was frowning again. I flinched as he reached down and examined one of my piercings, but Master only touched it, there was no shock.
“I suppose that’s why they won’t come out,” I heard him say, but could tell that it was directed more to Heero than to me. “Did you get the wirecutters I asked for?” he asked. I whimpered, wondering what he was going to do with them, and what I had done so wrong to deserve it.
“Hush,” Master said, petting my hair. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Yes,” Heero replied to his earlier question, “I got two of them.”
“That’s good. Put them on the kitchen table for me, then you can go to Quatre. I know he’s probably wondering where you are.”
“Yes, master,” Heero said, then rose.
I could hear Heero moving around the room, but I couldn’t see him, and I realized that my eyes had gone closed. I struggled to open them, but they were so very heavy. My body hurt, but I knew I couldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t want to disappoint master again.
“Just rest,” came master’s voice from very close, and I realized that he was beside me on the floor. “Lie still for a moment. I want to show Heero out before he goes to see Quatre, so I’m going to leave you alone for just a minute. Lie still for me and don’t try to get up,” he said, and I heard him rise and move away. I was so tired, but so nervous at the same time, that it was impossible for me to rest and impossible for me to fully wake up. Instead, I hovered in a daze and could only hope I didn’t make any more mistakes.
Master returned after speaking in low tones to Heero at the door. Something about not mentioning what had happened, and something about a Cat. I was too far gone to really comprehend what they were saying, though I was worried about it none the less. I heard the door shut, then master’s soft footsteps approaching me, but I did not open my eyes, though I felt that they might stay open now after the few seconds of rest I had given them. Master knelt beside me again, but I wasn’t sure if I should open my eyes as he had told me to rest. I was afraid of upsetting him again.
“Trowa?” he asked softly, touching the skin of my forearm, “Are you awake?”
I opened my eyes and looked up at him, certain now that he would not be angered. “Yes, master?” I told him, my voice soft and horse from my punishment.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes, master.”
“Come then,” he said, taking my hand and helping me to my feet. I was shaky, and I wobbled on my feet, but I was fairly certain that I would not fall. Master, who stood beside me and held my shoulder, did not seem so certain, and stayed very close as he helped me to the bedroom.
Once in the room, master had me lie down on top of the bed, then left the room. I hadn’t been told to sleep, so I forced myself to stay awake, though I couldn’t keep my eyes from drooping. Master returned only seconds later, carrying the wirecutters he and Heero had talked about earlier. I felt the color drain from my face and must have made a small sound of distress.
“Calm down. As I’ve said before, I’m not going to hurt you. Now, I want you to take these and clip one end of your piercings.”
Master placed a wirecutter in my hand, which I could not get to move no matter what I tried. I stared at him in disbelief. He must have spoken to the Duke. They must have formed a plan together. I knew what the punishment would be if I removed any of my piercings, even by accident. To do it intentionally...
The tool fell from my limp hand and dropped to the bed, making a small patter as it hit. Master, who had been assessing the piercings on my ankle, looked up at me.
“Trowa?” he asked.
“I can’t,” I replied, trying to sound determined, but even I could tell that my voice shook. I was disobeying Master once again, and I worried he would turn the charge back on. But it would still be better.
“Can’t what?” he asked, his face showing confusion.
“I can’t take them out. The piercings... I am not allowed to remove them...”
“I allow you,” he said with conviction. “I am your master now, and I say that you are allowed.”
“No,” I whispered, and I could see him frown. I looked away, too afraid to even look at him. Tears spilled from my eyes. Why was he doing this? He had seemed so kind earlier and last night. Many masters were kind to slaves they wanted to own, but why had he been so nice last night if he only planned to hurt me? He hadn’t even beaten me for servicing the Duke’s body guards, and he had put a lotion on the bruises that made the pain go away almost instantly. What had I done so wrong to force such a change in Master? What could I do? If I disobeyed Master, I would be punished, but disobeying the Duke meant torture and death. But what if Master took me back to the Duke because I had disobeyed? The Duke would kill me anyway. So... what should I do?
White noise had suddenly taken over my hearing, and all I could hear was the deafening silence that screamed in my head. I knew Master was saying something, but the pain drowned out his words. I could hear myself saying, “I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” but I couldn’t feel my lips move. I was shaking, and I was icy cold, but the two didn’t seem related. Master was beside me, but he was so very, very far away.

Trowa 53
Something pounded softly next to my ear. Rhythmically I could hear it beat, like music. It was warm, and the beating was soft, and I felt so safe. I wanted to sleep, but there was something tickling the edge of my consciousness. A voice, calling for me to wake up.
“Trowa, come on, look at me,” it called and I recognized my Master. I opened my eyes, for I only wanted to please Master, and looked at him.
His eyes were such a pretty blue that they never should have held such worry. There was a heaviness in them that I had not seen in other masters, a compassion that must have been painful in a place like this. He smiled in relief and I saw just how pretty his eyes could be.
Then his hand brushed my arm, catching on one of my piercings, and I flinched. Everything suddenly came back to me, and I gasped. Master, seeing my distress, pulled my head back down to his chest, letting the rhythm of his heart calm me.
“Just relax,” he told me, holding me close, stroking my back. I did so, relaxing against him as my mind worked to fill in what had happened. I realized, startlingly, that there was a gap in my memory between the time I panicked and how I managed to get wrapped nearly around Master, covered in a blanket, and lying down.
“Wha-...?” I started, but hesitated, unable to clearly form the question. “How did I...?”
“You had a panic attack. You were completely incoherent for several minutes. I believe you may have fallen asleep while I was calming you, but it would not be farfetched to say that you fainted.”
“I am sorry, Master.”
“Tell me what the Duke would have done to you had you removed your piercings,” he demanded.
“What?” I could only gasp.
“Tell me how the Duke would have punished you.”
“How did...” I wondered, suddenly afraid again that they had been speaking without my knowledge.
“You spoke of it several times while you were incoherent. Now, tell me what he would have done.”
“He... He said he would take a livewire and put it in my mouth, and shove another in my ass, then fry me until I was black. He said it would be one hundred times worse than my rings. Then he made me touch a wire, just to show me what it was like. I was thrown to the ground the moment I touched it, but I still lost use of my hands for several weeks. I was unconscious for four days. I couldn’t speak for a month.”
“I see,” he said, looking pensive. “Stay here,” he ordered after a moment, then rose and disappeared into the bathroom. I turned onto my back and sat up, but otherwise didn’t dare to move. I was in enough trouble as it was.
When Master returned, he was carrying a syringe. I flinched, but forced myself not to run. Even if I had run, Master could have just stopped me with the remote, so it was very little use. There was a cottonswab in his other hand, and Master was thorough and professional as he sat beside me and swabbed my arm. He was quick with the syringe, which I was grateful for, but it was still difficult for me to endure. I was extremely afraid of needles.
Once it was over, Master had me lie back down on the bed as he continued to sit beside me.
“What I gave you is a muscle relaxant,” he said at length, taking my hand in his own. “It will make it difficult for you to move, but won’t put you to sleep. Not that you’ll need any help with that,” he said. I realized, as he spoke, that I could not move more than an inch in any direction, and I could only twitch my arms and legs with great effort. “I think it’s taken affect,” he said. “I’m sorry for forcing you into this, but I simply won’t allow one of my slaves to be treated this way. I’m sure you’ll be alright tomorrow,” he told me. I swallowed hard as he rose and moved to the bottom of the bed. I could feel my worry starting to resurface, but it was difficult to rise to that level of terror with the drugs in my system. I settled for watching him fearfully as he picked up the wirecutters.
“You may not believe this,” he said in a tone of annoyed amusement, “but I don’t plan on taking any appendages with these,” he said, half smiling as he waved the tool in his hand. “Your fingers and toes are perfectly safe.”
I managed a half-hearted smile for him, but it faded as he returned his attention to his work, flicking the covers from my leg. I could not move as he lowered the cutters and snapped off the end of one of the metal bars piercing my flesh, but I did moan somewhat frantically. The medicine, whatever Master had given me, made it so that the procedure did not hurt, as I could barely feel my legs over the heavy numbness that had settled into my body. Still, the sound to me was so frightful, so morbid, that the sound itself created the pain.
“Oh, come now, it’s not that bad,” Master said as he pulled the bar the out from the other side and dropped it into the bowl he had brought from the kitchen. It made a twang as the metal hit ceramic and I flinched again.
“Hush,” Master said finally. “Sleep if this upsets you so badly. I didn’t think you’d need help, but I can certainly oblige if you keep this up,” he said, giving me a small glare. I held my tongue as he bent to cut the next one, but still could not hold in the involuntary flinch. Master didn’t comment on this, though, simply continued with his work. It became a rhythm, each snip and twang as he would cut and drop the pieces of metal that had so plagued me for the last few years. There were so many, and I was so tired, that it became like a terrifying melody to me.
Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang.
I could feel myself nodding off, and struggled to keep awake, though I could not tell why I felt so strongly that I must not sleep. At some point, Master rose and left the room, but it was not until he returned that I noticed he was gone. He had a towel in his hand and began to wipe my leg, and it was only upon seeing the red on white that I noticed my leg was bleeding where the piercings had been removed. It was only a small dribble of blood, though, much less than when they went in, and I was not overly concerned, except for the possibility of staining Master’s sheets. But there was really nothing I could do about it, so eventually I let the thought leave my mind.
“What could you have possibly have done to deserve a... punishment... like this?” Master asked, looking somewhat sickened by the sight of my body.
“One of the Duke’s favorite slaves was jealous of me,” I said, trying to stay coherent enough to tell the story. “At his house, where my first master gave me to him, there was a high fence outside. It was tall... so very tall... but not too tall. I...” I hesitated, trying to remember, “I performed acrobatics where I jumped really high. Later, one of his most prized slaves told me to go to the garden and prune the flowers, then told the Duke that I had been trying to escape. He believed the slave, and punished me. When I wouldn’t scream, he punished me more. I became one of his favorites, because the slaves the Duke loves the most are the ones he hurts the worst.”
“My god,” Master murmured and returned to his work, this time moving to the other leg. I once again began to nod off, but jerked myself awake as my head fell forward. Master noticed, and looked up for a moment, pausing in his work.
“Go to sleep,” he said sternly, pulling a pillow from behind me so that I was forced to lie all the way down. I did not like it, but I didn’t have the strength to sit up. “If you wish to please me, then go to sleep. This is going to take a long time, there’s no need for you to sit through all of it.”
What could I do when the Master ordered me to do what my body had been begging for? With a sigh of anxiety that I could barely feel, I allowed my eyes to slip shut, so that I was reduced to only my sense of sound.
Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang.
It followed me into my dreams, haunting me, filling my ears as I ran from wires and shocks.
I slept, though uneasily, for a very time, only half waking as Master rolled me over to get at the bars on my back.
Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang. Snip. Twang.
It was the sound of freedom, and that terrified me. I knew what a cruel, dark place the world could be. I was as afraid of being alone in it as I was of being caged by it.

Trowa 54
I awoke feeling refreshed and realized that, once Master had finished with the bars, I had slept better than I had in years. It was strange, not having them there, and I couldn’t help but run my hands along my arms and torso to assure myself that they were gone. The tiny holes in my body where they had been reminded me of their presence, and the pain from the sore places they had been told me it was not merely a dream.
My memories from the previous night were fuzzy, but some images were vivid. I remembered doing something bad that made Master angry. I remembered being punished with a full voltage and begging Master to turn it off. He had listened, which was strange, but I was too relieved to notice then. Heero had left and Master took me into the bedroom, where he proposed to remove the bars from my body. I had thought it was a trick, wasn’t able to imagine that it was anything but a trick, and panicked. Master had calmed me, relaxed me, and removed the bars. I could still hear them being snapped off and dropped into the bowl, one by one.
With a shudder, I rose from the bed and walked into the kitchen. I had not truly grasped the situation yet, so that my feelings were still scattered and I was left empty, unsure of anything. Because of this, I wasn’t sure if I should hug Master or run from him when I saw him sitting at the table. I settled for sitting in front of him.
I could tell right away that Master was unhappy. Slaves quickly become attuned to these kinds of things, and Master wasn’t trying to hide it from me. I tensed, but held my ground, knowing that there was really nowhere to run. So I sat silently in front of my imposing master, wishing that Heero would come home. Perhaps he could calm the Master, for my presence only seemed to be angering him further as he glared at the table.
I soon noticed what he was staring at. On the table to his left was the bowl, and inside it I assumed were the bars he had removed from me. To his right was the controller that I had hoped in vain never to see again. Though I knew, mentally, that it held no power over me, the sight of it still made me cringe. Before him on the table were scattered a few of the bars, and one had been sliced open with a razor to expose the wires within. There was a battery in either end, and wires through the middle connecting them. I could see the small patch of metal in the middle which allowed the bars to shock me.
“I must admit,” he said with a mirthless laugh as he continued to frown somberly at the gadgetry before him, “that this device is ingenious. The outside is covered in a thin layer of rubber, so that the master does not receive a shock when he touches you. Only the very inside is left exposed, and that part is wrapped in skin, so that only you are shocked. The voltage can be lowered to the same amount used to train a dog, or raised so that it could kill a man in mere minutes. The controller allows the Master to raise and lower the voltage whenever he pleases, from wherever he is.”
I said nothing, as there was nothing for me to say. I held my silence as Master rose from his seat and came around to my side of the table. I was going to be beaten. I sat very still, hoping that perhaps Master wouldn’t hurt me so much if I were still and quiet.
Master slapped my face with a resounding crack, forcing my face to the side. I had to grab the counter to keep myself from falling out of the chair, then worried that I should have fallen to the ground. I could more easily defend myself curled up than I could from the stool.
But no more strikes were forthcoming. Slowly, more out of surprise than daring, I allowed myself to look at Master. He was still giving me an angry look, but he made not move to strike me. Instead, he lifted my chin to look at him.
“Don’t you ever,” he said forcefully, “ever hide something like that from me again. I will never allow one of my slaves to be tortured and tormented like that. You could have been killed! I do not condone this kind of senseless brutality and I will not have it in my home. Do you understand me? There is nothing, nothing, you could do to warrant such a punishment. I will not have a machine...”
“Nothing?” I wondered incredulously, so struck by the thought that I forgot myself. Master stopped in his rage, but did not drop my eyes.
“Nothing,” he said with conviction.
“But...? How can that be? I must have done something... yesterday... for you to...”
“It wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong. It... was an accident. I know that’s no excuse, but I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t... know?”
“No, or I never would have allowed it. I was going to ask you about it when you came back, but... well, you know. I promise you, it will never happen again.”
“Never... again? But what if you need to punish me?”
“Then I’ll do it without resorting to torment. That wasn’t a punishment, Trowa, that was pure cruelty. I won’t do that to you.”
“I... I don’t understand.”
“You will,” he said softly, wiping tears from my face that I hadn’t known were there. “I’ll show you. Don’t worry, you have all the time in the world,” he said, pulling me into his arms. For once, the contact of another body did not bring pain to me, and I could feel years of anguish that I had stored inside draining out of me. Perhaps... just perhaps...

Zechs 55
I felt somewhat bad about slapping Trowa, but it needed to be done. Pain is really not a good reinforcement with slaves who are beaten regularly, but there was no other way for me to translate how strongly I felt about this to him.
And I did feel strongly about it. More than once I contemplated finding the Duke when he was alone and putting the bars in him, to see how he liked it, and only my mission kept me from actually attempting it. And even then, I was barely restrained.
I had been blind to Trowa in the time I knew him before I slapped him. Granting that much of the blindness came from the fact that I had only known him for a few days, it still is not excusable. I needed to know my slaves as well as any lover did. I needed to know how they thought if I was going to have any hopes of keeping them safe.
I hadn’t been sure of Trowa because I hadn’t know the kind of pain an fear he had lived in. Once I knew, it was easy to see how he had taken the pain and the fear and put it in a box, then closed that box, successfully securing all his emotions from ever surfacing. In the darkness, the box had festered, overcome by the bad emotions and unable to release the good. Where Heero had destroyed his emotions and Quatre had nearly been destroyed by them, Trowa had merely removed them, creating a hollow shell where once stood a person. By removing the bars, effectively taking the symbol of pain and fear from his life, I had lanced the wound, and the poisonous emotions had spilled out, welling up until he let his eyes purge his body of the noxious feelings he had trapped inside. His tears had cleansed my vision, and I was suddenly able to see that he was no better off than my other two.
Heero, for all his progress, still repressed many of his emotions, and still focused on pleasing me as his only purpose. He did not see himself as a person, but merely a tool to be used by the master. I think he was still under the impression that I would abandon that tool were it to break or become obsolete, so he pushed himself farther than I would have ever asked.
Quatre was still battered from his treatment, inside and out, and would probably be timid and distrustful for some time to come. I hoped to one day meet the happy boy I imagined he had been, but I knew that it would take time we did not have.
Trowa had only begun to recover, and the variable of how the other two would take to him still hung in the air. Heero had been skittish, and Quatre had not met him, but we would soon learn if they could get along or not. I could only hope that they would, for even with my best efforts the fighting of my slaves would only cause more pain in the house. As a united force, they could heal each other in ways that I could not hope to, because I was the master, and thus unable to come down to their plane and see what they saw. Even with the horrors I had seen in war, I had never faced such cruel conditions, and I doubted I would be the same if I had. So the only option I could see was to help them heal each other, but I could not force them. Forcing them to help one another would be defeating my own purpose.
Trowa’s tears subsided slowly, but eventually they trickled to a stop. I released him long enough to push the remnants of his torment off the table, letting the pieces clatter into the garbage can. The control shattered on the way down, and Trowa watched with an unreadable intent. Once it was over I closed the lid on the now pathetic-looking site, hoping to put it from Trowa’s mind.
Then the ordeal was over and I felt all the rage that had empowered me suddenly seep away. I felt as though I could fall asleep on my feet, and from the way Trowa swayed in his seat, he was closer than I was. A few hours of sleep could not make up for months of sleep depravation, nor could one meal reverse the affects of a slow starvation. With that thought in mind, I quickly forced another sandwich into Trowa, who I was pleased to note ate more than he did at the previous meal, grabbed a blanket from the closet, and took him to curl up in front of the TV.
I couldn’t help but reminisce as I lay there with Trowa, who was as anxious about laying still in the presence of his master as Heero had been in his first few days. Laying with Trowa was similar to what I had gone through with Heero in that they both needed a physical comfort that masters did not often give at Collar. They had needed to be held, to know that they were cherished, and I found it easy to give that to them. With Trowa, there was an added agenda behind our bonding sessions, as I also knew that I would need to quickly break him from the fear of physical contact that his repeated shocks had brought on. Having him shy away from me in front of the other masters was something I hoped to avoid, for it would show that I had not gained his trust and loyalty, which to them would mean that I was a weak master.
Trowa was also physically different from Heero, as Trowa was tall and slender where Heero was small and compact. I attributed some of this to their heritage, as Heero was Asian, which was a shorter race, and Trowa seemed European, which was one of the tallest races. Despite this obstacle already being against him, I also could tell from his slender bone structure that some of Heero’s slight stature was from improper nutrition at critical growing stages. There was a possibility that Sally and I could stimulate his growth hormones with better nutrition and vitamin supplements, but I doubted he would ever regain his biological stature. Trowa, on the other hand, looked as though he was finished growing. At least, I hoped he was old enough to be through most of his growing stages. As it was, he was only a few inches shorter than I was. It would feel strange to look up at one’s slave, I thought.
I hadn’t really been able to assess Quatre’s physical condition well enough to tell if he was still growing or had been stunted. He was a little taller than Heero, but from what I could tell of his health it was most likely simply that he was short, and there was always the possibility that he hadn’t hit his growth spurts yet.
When working with boys between the ages of sixteen and twenty, there was always the possibility that they would grow three or four inches in a short period of time. I was well aware of how young the boys really were, and how much of their youth they had missed out on. I could only hope, for their sakes, that I could return some of that youthful happiness to them.

Zechs 56
When Heero arrived home, I was watching a news broadcast, with Trowa dozing on my arm. It was nothing that I hadn’t known about six months past due to my work with Preventers, so I wasn’t annoyed at the disturbance, and Trowa was sleeping lightly enough that he awoke when Heero sat on the couch opposite us.
“How is Quatre doing?” I wondered.
“He’s getting better,” Heero said, slumping in his seat, obviously tired. “The doctor says he may be released by the end of the week.”
“That’s wonderful news. Did you eat dinner?”
“I ate at the hospital, with Quatre.”
“Ah. How long ago?”
“A few hours. Why?”
“I was wondering if either of you would join me for a midnight snack. Although... I’m not even sure what time it is. It barely seems to matter around here. Anyway, I’m sure we bought some cookies when we purchased snacks last. They’ll only go to waste at this rate. What do you say?”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Heero replied, and Trowa merely nodded his head against my shoulder, still too shy to speak. I moved to get up, but Heero was up before me. “I’ll get it,” he said.
“Are you certain?” I asked with a frown. I didn’t want him to think I was using him, or showing favoritism. Heero merely smirked in amusement at me.
“I have spent several years as a Collar slave. I don’t think a tray of cookies is beyond my capacities.”
“Alright, then,” I said with a laugh, settling back down as Heero moved into the kitchen. I only settled for a moment, though, because I decided that Trowa would need to sit up to eat, and I saw no hint of him moving on his own.
“Come on, sleepyhead,” I teased, sitting up and moving toward the center of the couch, leaving space for Heero on my other side. Trowa obediently moved down, sitting so that his side rested against mine.
Heero returned with a bowl of cookies and three glasses of milk. He handed me the tray before plopping down on my other side, leaning in close to reach the cookies which I situated on my lap. I leaned back, nibbling on my own cookie as the two teenage boys munched their way through several to my single. Ah, the metabolism of youth.
It wasn’t long before, bellies full and content, the two boys began to doze off, one leaning on each of my shoulders. It was only when I began to feel myself nodding off, and a subsequent almost dropping of the tray, that I decided it was time for bed.
Quietly, I shifted the tray to the floor, careful not to move the boys. Then, with my skills as an assassin and spy, I managed to slip out from under the two heavily slumbering boys. Trowa almost awoke as the movement of my shoulder, which his head rested one, disturbed his peace, but a quiet command from me had him right back in dreamland. Whether he heard it and intentionally obeyed for my sake or whether he simply did what his body told him he should I was uncertain of, but the result was the same, so it didn’t really matter at the time.
Regardless, neither boy woke and I was able to get into a position to pick Heero up without waking Trowa. It was a testament to how exhausted Heero was that he barely stirred when I picked him up, simply mumbled to himself and went back to sleep. I was glad that Heero was wearing only a loose Greek-style robe over his nude body, for I knew I couldn’t have undressed him without waking him up. Instead I managed to simply slip him under the covers, then was off for my second burden.
Trowa was completely naked, sleeping quietly on the couch, but nudity had become so much a part of my daily life that I hardly noticed except to realize that I wouldn’t need to change him into nightclothes either.
Trowa, unlike Heero, awoke with a startled gasp as I lifted him. He seemed less certain of being carried and I assumed that, because of his height, it was less likely that masters would carry him around. It wasn’t difficult for me, being several inches taller than he was, but he seemed awkward in my arms, squirming as though he didn’t know how to hold himself. He eventually settled for fisting his hands in my shirt until I instructed him to put them around my neck. A few seconds later, we had reached our destination and I calmly slipped him into bed, then climbed over top of him and settled down between my two slaves. Mindless of each other, one half asleep and one fully there, they both curled against me. I held them both close to me, feeling one of the waves of protectiveness that regularly washed over me.

Quatre 57
Four days after I was sent to the hospital, the doctor finally allowed me to go home. I had been able to walk on my own since yesterday, and I hadn’t had a fainting spell for nearly two days. My health, though I was still weak and easily tired, had much improved, and I was feeling better than I had in months. The doctor felt that if I was allowed proper rest and nutrition I would soon be back to full health.
With that prognosis, the doctor released me early the next morning, and I was as eager to return to the apartment as I was nervous. On the one hand, I had been terribly lonely in the hospital, in my tiny white room all alone, and would have probably come undone if it hadn’t been for Heero’s companionship. He was there every day for nearly five hours, and I knew that he left me to go straight to a work out. I could see it wearing on him, and often felt guilty for putting him through such trouble, but I was far too afraid of being left alone to tell him to stop coming.
Which was one of the reasons I was so nervous about returning to the master. It was possible that he could be angry with me for taking Heero away so often, or because I had left him for so long. Or he could even have decided to let his new slave take my place, and get rid of me.
All this entered my mind as I halted outside the door to the only place that had begun to feel welcoming in years, uncertain of my welcome. I set aside the small white bag of supplies and instructions the hospital had given me and dropped to my knees, the proper position for a message carrying slave or one who had been away for a long period of time. Once in the proper, submissive position, I reached my hand up and rang the doorbell. There were steps only a moment later and my heart jumped to my throat as I heard master’s heavy, bold steps come to the door. The handle turned, the door opened, and master simply stared down at me in surprise for a moment. I lowered my head, begging silently for him to do something.
Please, don’t turn me away!
“Quatre!” he shouted, falling to his knees beside me, a grin lighting his face. “Are you alright? What are you doing here? You look great! Can you stand? Eh, never mind, that’s not important,” he said, lifting me from the floor, giving me only time enough to grab my bag before carting me into the room. “Heero said you wouldn’t be out until the end of the week! You didn’t sneak away, did you? No, you’re too good-hearted for that, aren’t you, angel face? It seems like you’ve been gone forever! So much has happened! But, I can tell you about that after you tell me all about your hospital stay. Were they kind to you?” he asked, placing me on the couch, then seating himself on the adjacent one and listening to me with interest. It took me a moment to realize that I was actually being given time to respond.
“Uh-yes, they were very kind. But they were very busy, too, and I was lonely.”
“But Heero came every day, right?”
“Of course, but he was only allowed to stay for a few hours, then the doctor made him leave.”
“And he went straight to the gym, I’ll suppose. Persistent boy. But what of your treatment?”
“I don’t really remember the first day, but I know they used some kind of machine to clean and seal the wounds. After that they merely checked them every day, made me take lots of pills, drink lots of fluids, and sleep a lot.”
“Well, I’m certain we can do that here just as well. The other two are enjoying that last option themselves.”
“They’re still sleeping?” I asked. It was early, but not that early.
“Yes. You know how hard Heero’s been pushing himself, and Trowa isn’t in the best shape because of his previous master’s treatment.”
“Trowa... what is he like?” I questioned hesitantly. Master replied instantly.
“Shy. I think you’ll like him. He’s quiet, but he says a lot with the few words he uses. I want you two to get along.”
“What does Heero think of him?”
“I... honestly don’t know. Heero is still so guarded around him, and Trowa won’t take the initiative to get close to him. I don’t think they’ve made any progress at all other than deciding not to hate each other.”
“Oh,” I said. That didn’t sound overly promising, but it wasn’t the worst report, either. And it would be very much of Heero’s nature to reserve judgement until he had a full view of Trowa’s character.
“Do you want to see him?” master asked, a playful grin on his face. “You could sneak over and take a peak. I won’t tell,” he said, then stood. “I’ll take your bag, if you want,” he offered, and I quickly shook my head.
“No, it’s alright. I’ll- uh... I’ll put it in the second bathroom, so it won’t be in the way,” I said quicky. I didn’t want master going through my bag and asking questions about my medicine yet. I wasn’t sure of my place in the house anymore, and I wanted to be sure to secure it before I brought up that subject with master.
“Alright, then, I need to get a shower, then we can have breakfast and I can introduce you to Trowa. Do you need me to wake Heero up, or are you alright by yourself?”
“I’m fine. I’m not really sick anymore, I’m just weak.”
“As would be expected after what you’ve been through. Don’t worry, though, you’ll feel better soon enough,” he said, then patted me on the head and walked to the bedroom. When I heard the water start in the other room, I hurried to the slave’s bathroom. I had never been to the slave’s quarters before, but Heero had pointed them out to me. It was much smaller than the master sweet, as I had assumed. I put most of my medicine into the cupboard, but one bottle under the sink, hoping no one would find it before I had time to talk to master in private. It would be easy for someone to... make the wrong assumption, were they to see it. I wanted to explain my situation to master, but only once I was sure he wouldn’t turn me out. I couldn’t take that.
Once I was finished stashing my medication, I wasn’t really certain where to go. I didn’t feel like being alone, and master’s earlier offer echoed through my head, so I tiptoed out of the slaves quarters and up to the master’s bedroom. A lamp was on and, peering through the dim light. I could make out two forms in the bed. The smaller one I recognized as Heero, so I assumed that the taller must be Trowa. I peered closely. He was tall, lean, and somewhat muscled, but thinner than he should have been. His face was relaxed but blank, neither pleased nor pained. His hair was mussed, and the style was odd, with most of it falling forward over his face into one big bang, which had been pushed to the side only enough to reveal one eye.
An eye which, as though sensing my presence, opened to disclose a startling emerald orb.

Trowa 58
The blond in the doorway was not master, I noticed immediately. For one thing, he was about a foot and a half shorter than master, with slender shoulders where master had broad, and a nervous stance, where master’s was always bold and commanding. While master’s hair was long with a deep golden color, this boy’s was short, with a lighter yellow color. Their eyes were of the same shade, but where master’s were always fearless with the underlying weight of responsibility, this boy’s were fearful, with a kindness underneath that was hard to come by in slaves.
For I did realize, easily, that he was master’s other slave. It was easy to tell, as I had been told he was coming home soon, and that he had been in the hospital, and this boy was still wearing the simple white robe from the hospital.
I expected him to turn away when I looked at him, but he didn’t, instead watching me with interest I wasn’t sure I deserved. Unnerved by his stare, I rose slowly from the bed, careful not to wake Heero, who was sleeping quietly beside me. Heero seemed to find me a mild annoyance as it was, I didn’t want to make myself any more troublesome.
Once out of the bed, I realized, though I had actually known for quite a while, that I was naked. Quatre’s eyes, as they traveled up my body from my feet to my face, made me blush, a sensation I had not felt in a long time. His eyes met mine, and I was captivated. It wasn’t like he was sizing me up, or checking out my physique, which I would have understood. It seemed like... we was looking at my soul. It unnerved me, and I had to look away from him. Turning my head seemed to break the spell, and I was finally able to gain enough power over my body to walk toward him. Casting a glance at Heero, who was still sound asleep, he backed out of the doorway, allowing me to follow.
Once in the den I was able to get a better look at him. He was as beautiful as I had originally expected; slim, with the delicate features and small frame that masters searched for. It was so very unlike mine, which was taller than most masters would tolerate, with large hands and strong features. His eyes were the clearest blue, lighter than either master or Heero’s, and his blonde hair was like sunlight. My eyes had been turned green by a heritage I had no knowledge of, and my hair was the color of moist dirt. Sometimes I wondered why even the Duke cast a second glance at me, as cruel as his intentions had been.
I stared at him, stupidly, for several minutes before he cleared his throat and offered me his hand.
“I’m Quatre. You must be Trowa. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, still holding his hand out. I hesitated to shake it. The bars had quickly taught my body that touch was bad, and only master had ever done anything to the contrary of that idea. I was grateful to Heero for being civil toward me when he obviously had reason to be hostile, but I knew that it was mostly master’s influence that kept him from abusing me that way the other slaves had. This boy, who had the face of an angel and the manners of an aristocrat, must have been master’s favorite, and thus would be above being scolded for picking on a newer, homelier slave. There was no reason for him to show kindness to me.
But his eyes showed nothing of the viscousness that I knew to be in the heart of most slaves. They were sincerer, as far as I could tell, having so few times seen that emotion, and almost pleading, as he held his hand out to me in a gesture of good will. With both my mind and body screaming that it was a trap, my heart could not deny such an act, and I found my own hand slowly raising to meet his.
His skin was soft in my palm, so much so that I worried he would be offended by the callousness of my own. But there was a strength in his shake that had nothing to do with the physical. While I could feel hand trembling in my own, there was an assurance of the reception there that told of high hopes for the future. I had seen these hopes suffocate under the pressures of slavery far too often to allow any of my own.
The trembling of his hand concerned me, and as I followed the flow of his wrist up his arm I could see that the shaking extended to his whole body. As my eyes rested on his face I could see that it was heavily strained. Quatre’s eyes met mine, and he smiled brightly. Then, only a moment later, those eyes closed and his knees buckled.
I had been prepared by his shaking that something was about to happen, but still I could barely catch him before he hit the ground. Had he not been so light I would have gone down with him instead of pulling him into my arms. But he was eerily light, and I wondered for a moment if the master had denied him food. My heart jumped to my throat, but I recalled a moment later that he had been in the hospital. I knew that the hospital only gave the best care, no matter who the slave belonged to or what he had done. From my days working with the circus animals when I was younger I also knew how easily a being could lose weight if they were ill, and decided that this was the most probably answer.
“Quatre? Trowa, what happened?” I heard from the doorway and looked up to see master hurry toward us. I felt my stomach drop. It would be easy to take the blame for Quatre’s sudden lapse. If he were to wake and say that I had struck him, or pushed him, or anything, master would take his word over mine. Perhaps he even fainted with this very situation in mind, hoping that I would be caught red-handed. And his smile was not for my friendship, but for my stupidity.
I wanted to say something, to tell master what had happened, but my mouth refused to open as master rushed up and took Quatre from me. I felt ill, and wondered if I would be able to get my mouth open if I began to feel nauseous. The blood was pounding in my head, which was strange, because I could feel it all rushing to my feet. My head felt lighter because of it, but still the pounding didn’t stop.
“Trowa,” master snapped, depositing Quatre on the couch, “What happened?”
“He...” I started, but faltered as a wave of sickness passed over me. “He... was shaking... then fell...” I said, but wasn’t able to get any more out. Master had quickly checked Quatre’s breathing and pulse as I spoke, and now turned his eyes on me.
“Like you’re going to do if you don’t sit down. You’re white as a sheet,” he said, pulling me to sit at Quatre’s feet on the couch as he knelt in front of me. A hand was placed on my forehead, but I was too busy worrying about the tilting of the room to notice it.
“You don’t have a fever. Put your head between you knees for a minute and focus on your breathing. I don’t want you going into shock,” he said, then turned back to Quatre, who had begun to stir.
“Quatre, little one, are you alright?” he asked, and I felt the room lurch again. I almost hoped that Quatre would faint again, so that he couldn’t say anything to incriminate me. I had begun to like it here, and I didn’t want to leave master, but I doubted that I deserved such kindness. There was really nothing I could do about it anyway. I couldn’t even get my mouth to open.
“I’m alright,” Quatre whispered huskily, “Where’s Trowa?” he asked, looking around. I tensed my shoulders, hoping the floor would swallow me.
“He’s here. I made him sit down,” master said, keeping a close eye on Quatre. Quatre noticed me at the bottom of the couch and suddenly struggled to sit up.
“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, half way to a panic, reaching toward me, “He didn’t do anything wrong! I was the one who was stupid! It wasn’t his fault I-...”
“Shh! Quatre, calm down! He’s not in trouble any more than you are. I just think seeing you pass out, along with the fact that he’s also not in prime health, was too much of a shock to his system. He just need to sit down a few minutes. You gave us both quite a scare,” master said, still pressing Quatre down.
“Oh,” he responded, allowing himself to be pushed back to the couch. “Well, as long as he’s not being blamed. It was really my fault. The doctors said I shouldn’t be on my feet more than a few minutes at a time, and I walked all the way back here... but I didn’t want to wait for the orderlies... that could have taken forever... and... I was so excited... to see you all... I just...” he said, but it was easy to see that sleep was pulling heavily on him, and in another moment his eyes drifted shut.
“Well, I suppose that’s that,” master said with half a smile. “Do you mind staying here, with him?” master asked. “I really don’t want to leave him alone, and I need to wake Heero and order some breakfast. I’m not really sure you should be up yet, either. You’re still recovering from that shock, and from the starvation before it. Lay here with Quatre, and try to get some rest,” he instructed kindly. My body, which had just come down from such a panic high, felt like lead, and I wasn’t sure I could have risen if master had asked me to. So I nodded, and master smiled kindly, then helped me put my feet up on the couch and covered Quatre and me with a blanket before going back to the bedroom.
“I never thanked you for catching me,” Quatre said, startling me, as I had thought him to be asleep. His drooping eyes, however, told me that he was still not far from it. “You did catch me, didn’t you?”
I nodded in response, and he smiled that joyous smile again. I wasn’t sure how any slave could wear such a smile, but I wouldn’t complain. Simply basking in the smile’s glow was closer to happiness than I had been in a long time.
“Things are different here,” Quatre said suddenly and I wondered what he was talking about. “Things are different with this master. I was never close to any other slave before, but Heero and I are like brothers. You and I will be friends too, I just know it. Everything works out under master. You and I will be good friends, I promise.”
Again I looked for deceit behind that words, and again I could find nothing. And, while my mind was still trying to process what had so recently happened, my heart was lunging at the first hope of kindness it had seen in a long time. Before I knew it, I had outstretched my hand to him and, unlike me, he did not hesitate to take it.
“Thank you,” I muttered, my voice so quiet that I wasn’t sure he had heard me, but his eyes suddenly lit up, and I knew he had.

Zechs 59
Heero showed he was happy Quatre was back the same way he showed most of his emotions, which was almost not at all. If you didn’t really look at Heero you probably would have thought he didn’t care, but if you watched you could see him look up every few seconds to verify that Quatre was alright.
He also, consciously or not, moved between Trowa and Quatre just as often as he checked up on Quatre. I was sure that Heero didn’t have any ill-will against Trowa, or I would have been sure to talk to him, but I also had realized just how protective Heero was. Quatre was injured, and Trowa was the newcomer, and that meant by Heero’s standards that he was not to be trusted. Heero seemed certain that he would try to harm our little blonde.
I, on the other hand, could see a completely different scenario every time Heero stepped out of the room. With Heero gone, Trowa would relax somewhat around Quatre, doting on him like a puppy to his child. It seemed that, whatever had passed between Quatre and Trowa while they were supposed to be resting on the couch had earned Quatre Trowa’s loyalty, which seemed almost as strong as Heero’s, though a little less assertive. Quatre, for his part, was radiant with happiness, so glad to have made a new friend. It seemed that Quatre was more than ready to act the part of a normal teenage, as much as one could in the setting that we were given. He was attentive to Trowa and even managed to coerce some words out of the shy and almost silent boy. If I wasn’t wrong, I could see the very beginnings of a crush developing. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with teenage romance, for I well remembered its horrors from my own teenage years, but I was far from trying to deny these boys anything that could pass for normal.
And the only way this crush could possibly develop without being strangled at birth was for me to allow the two boys some time to get to know each other, away from the pressures of serving me and the stifling presence of “big brother” Heero. Of course, before I put my plan in to action, I made sure to consult Quatre, simply to make sure that he would feel comfortable staying alone with Trowa. I trusted the quiet boy enough to leave Quatre, but I wouldn’t push them if they weren’t ready for that. Quatre, however, took the suggestion with so much grace that I was sure if I had left them for a week neither would have complained.
And so, during dinner, I made my move.
“Heero, have you ever been to a spa?” I asked innocently enough.
“No, master, I haven’t,” he replied, still looking at his beef tender loin, cutting it with a resolve that would have made one think it was worn leather.
“Excellent. I want you to accompany me to one later tonight,” I said, causing him to look up in surprise.
“Tonight?” he echoed.
“Yep, right after dinner has settled.”
“But... how long will we be gone for?”
“We’ll get back pretty early tomorrow morning.”
“I can’t... Quatre shouldn’t be alone that long. The doctors said-...”
“Quatre won’t be alone. Trowa can keep an eye on him.”
“But-...”
“Enough, Heero. My mind has been made up,” I said, hardening my tone. Heero looked, to my trained eye, somewhat stricken, and cast a worried glance at Quatre. Quatre, for his part, tried to reassure Heero with a look that said he would be fine, but failed to get the message across. Sullen and worried, Heero settled for glaring at Trowa, as though he had asked for this to happen. Not the outcome I had hoped for, obviously, but I would have to accept it and hope for the best.
We finished dinner in near silence, only polite words that table etiquette demanded being spoken. Once the table was cleared I saw Heero pull Quatre off to the side to speak in private with him. I had hoped that the blonde could put my dark haired slave at ease, but when the two entered Quatre looked vaguely annoyed and Heero was as tense as ever. It seemed even Quatre’s charms could not overcome Heero’s anal protective streak. It would be up to me to relax Angel, a job I hoped the bath would help instead of hinder.
After giving quiet instructions to Trowa to keep the door locked, and where the food was, and how to reach us in an emergency, and after being scolded by Quatre for treating Trowa like a babysitter and him like a baby, and after receiving several sullen glares from Heero, I finally managed to get one of my slaves out the door while locking two of them behind it. Heero was still angry, which was only a shallow cover for the worry he felt for Quatre. I understood his worry, but I was forced to ignore it. I needed my slaves to trust one another, and giving Quatre and Trowa time alone would bring them closer, causing my slaves to become a tighter group. If only Heero could so readily accept my newest slave, but I knew Heero had seen far too much pain for that.

Zechs 60
The spa was about what I had expected, only more private, which I was grateful for. Once we signed up with the slave at the front desk we were escorted to a private bathing room. There was a large, almost pool-size tub, and bar, and a large set of shelves housing bath items like towels, soap, lotion, and other such products.
I sent Heero to make martinis, having learned some time back that he knew how, and I went to investigate the towel racks. As I had suspected, only the items in plain view were normal. Inside the drawers were sexual toys of all kinds, varying from dildos to super lube- waterproof. I picked up a phallus shaped soap bar and quickly hid it in the washcloth, then made my way to the bath. I placed them on the edge of the pool, within easy reach, then descended the few steps that led into the deep, steaming water. Once at the bottom, the surface of the water reached just above my navel. Heero was almost finished with the martinis, and I checked to make sure he hadn’t seen what I had picked up. Luckily, he seemed oblivious.
There was more than one way to relax a tense slave.
Heero joined me with the drinks only a moment later. Setting a tray of them on the floor as he slid into the steaming water beside me. His robe had disappeared somewhere between the time he had gone to make the drinks and when he finished them, not that I minded at all. Heero handed me a drink, making sure to keep it safe from the casual waves our bodies were making, then fiddled with his own, hesitantly.
“Master, I should...”
“Drink your martini,” I instructed patiently. I had hoped Heero would be distracted by, oh, the naked blonde man standing next to him, but it appeared that I had greatly underestimated Heero’s stubbornness.
“But what if...”
“Heero,” I scolded, putting my drink aside and moving against him until he was backed into the side of the pool, my pelvis holding him in place, “You’re worrying too much. Now, as you master, I demand your full and undivided attention,” I said with a teasing smile. Heero still didn’t seem certain, but I was. He simply could not keep up with all the duties he had taken upon himself, and if he wouldn’t put some aside I would do it for him.
I knew I would have to make my move quickly. Giving Heero a sly smile in warning, I hoisted him up and set him on the side of the pool. He was somewhat shocked, his mouth falling open in surprise as I settled myself between his legs, looking up at him from between his open thighs.
“Master?” he questioned, stunned.
“Hmm?” I purred, rubbing my cheek against the soft flesh of his inner thighs as they dangled in the water on either side of my head.
“What are you d-... Oh!” he gasped as I suddenly licked the head of his half-hard member, which quickly came to life under my attention. I smiled in a pleased manner, then dove back down and took him to the hilt.
I am almost certain, from the way Heero reacted, that no one had ever done anything like that for him before. It wasn’t hard for me to accept from what I had already seen of this place, but it saddened me a bit. Out of all the lovers Heero had certainly had, had even one ever thought of his pleasure?
I vowed to make it up to him, and sucked more viciously for it. Heero was already unable to speak, making small, animal noises in pleasure. So overcome by his own body was he that he could not support himself to sit, and was instead bent forward over my head, most of his weight resting on my shoulders. His eyes were almost impossibly wide, his mouth was open, and he was gasping wetly for air.
I knew the boy wouldn’t last long under the ministrations of an old pro like me, so I moved my mouth to only his crown and rubbed his length with my right hand and his sack with my left. He was covered in the silver sheen of sweat now, panting heavily, his eyes closed. I could feel him tensing as the pressure built inside him, but nothing could have prepared me for the strength of his reaction.
Suddenly, without warning, Heero pitched himself backward, popping out of my mouth and jerking out of my hands. He let out a splitting scream and a jet of pearly white fluid burst from him, splattering onto the floor next to the heaving boy. Heero, even after the explosion was over, continued to thrust his hips shallowly, his own hands subconsciously coming to rub his softening member while he rode the waves of pleasure, unable to move.
His reaction startled me, but then, I supposed that for a slave to come in the mouth of a master was almost as bad as a slave refusing to let a master come in his. Both were probably highly punishable offenses, due to the double standard slaves lived by. I had hoped Heero trusted me enough to be above the slave and master relationship, but it was possible that some commands were so deeply ground into the slave’s psyche that they were almost subconscious. I would simply have to work that much harder to remove them, then.
I gave him a few minutes to finish and recover, then gently pulled him back into the pool, afraid he would go to sleep and be done with it. I took a bar of soap and a washcloth from the small pile I had made and gently bathed him as he came around. Soon he was able to look at me, with bright eyes and heightened color, and kissed me passionately on the lips.

Zechs 61
Heero’s wet tongue invaded my mouth, a forceful action that he had never before attempted. I grinned a little, leaning forward and taking the lead. Our tongues battled a bit, but Heero submitted good-naturedly after a few minutes, and I must admit that the fight was certainly more enjoyable than the victory. I removed my mouth from his and slipped down to the tight little nubs on his chest that were jest begging for attention. I used my left hand to toy with one while I used my mouth to become acquainted with the other. He moaned, bringing his hands to my shoulders, and shuddered. While he was occupied with that, my right hand reached down and began to gently fondle him until he was once again raised and ready to go.
Giving his nipples, now perky and a deep crimson color, one last kiss goodbye, I stood fully, picked Heero up, and walked to the exit to the pool. Once there, I deposited Heero on the stairs.
“On your knees,” I instructed, and Heero needed no more instruction to understand what I was about to do. He turned and climbed, on his knees, the few steps to the top of the pool, where he stopped. In that position, his hands rested on the floor of the room, while his knees were only a step above the water, and he toes dangled ever so slightly under the surface of the pool. His bottom was tantalizingly perky from my vantage point and I had to restrain myself from jumping on him like a wild animal. Instead, I gently ran my hand down the pane of his back, curving it to cup his tight, round bottom. At his thigh, I brought my hand back around, dipping my fingers into the crevice of his body. He shivered.
“Master, please!” he begged, and only then did I notice that his arousal was weeping imploringly, begging for encouragement. I smiled slyly and reached into the pile of rags and towels, then brought out the little surprise I had hidden for Heero.
So unsuspecting was my little slave as I rained handfuls of water down upon his back. He moaned in disappointment, thinking that I was teasing him. I dipped the phallus into the water, wetting it until it was slick. Then, without alerting Heero to my intentions, I swiftly pushed the soap into his body in one strong movement.
Heero gasped and tensed, his eyes going impossibly wide. He whipped his head around, staring at the base of the phallus in my hand. His eyes met mine and I smiled, thrusting the phallus deeper into his body. His eyes rolled back, all hints of surprise gone as the pleasure once again consumed him. I smiled as I continued to thrust using one hand, pulling the phallus back out just a little only to thrust it harshly back into his body. Each thrust caused the soap to administer a layer of lubrication to my squirming slave, and each thrust of the phallus brought Heero closer to a second climax. And my slave was thrusting delightfully in response, so much so that I couldn’t help but be jealous of the little object penetrating my lover. His bottom and thighs were covered in a layer of thick, white bubbles, and it almost seemed as though the soap was putting his seed into my lover. Obviously, I did not want to share my trembling bottom, not even with an inanimate object. With an anger that was driven by the force of need I could feel between my own legs, I pulled the invader from Heero’s body and flicked it across the room, hearing it land with a thwack.
Then it was my turn to thrust into Heero’s awaiting body, and I did so without reserve. Heero eagerly accepted me, his body suckling me even before I was fully seated, for he was very close to coming. Knowing this, I took a firm grip on Heero’s shaft, squeezing it just enough to warn him against pleasuring only himself. He moaned in disappointment, but I knew he would obey. Beyond a good slave, any good lover would wait for his partner before coming a second time. It was common courtesy.
With that decided, I focused on giving Heero the most thorough sexing of his life, thrust hard and deep. In a matter of minutes, I could feel myself approaching my own climax, and released Heero. He moaned in relief, clamping down on me with his insides, milking me for all he was worth. I heard Heero moan in completion as I felt my seed burst from my body and fill him. Heero collapsed under me and, after a few more thrusts, I collapsed, exhausted, on top of him.
I have no idea how long it took the two of us to come back to our senses, but the soap was beginning to dry on Heero’s arms, so I assumed it had been a while.
“It’s a good thing these steps are here,” I said after my breathing had evened out, “Or we both would have probably drowned.”
Heero hummed an affirmative, but didn’t seem at all concerned about what could have been a near death experience. I chuckled lightly. From the look on Heero’s face, we probably could have been in a tank with hungry sharks and he still wouldn’t have bothered to move.

Heero 62
It was morning by the time Master and I returned to the apartment. Master had used pleasure to quiet the tension in my body at the bath, but once away from the soothing waters I had again become concerned. Though morning was about the time we were expected back, I felt that we had been out far too long. I still didn’t trust Trowa, and it worried me that Quatre and Master both did. If he should try to hurt Quatre in Quatre’s current state, there was nothing the little blonde could do It was illogical to leave an injured slave with a new slave, and I didn’t understand how Master could trust him so much already. We barely knew him.
By the time I reached the door, I was almost in a panic, and could barely wait for Master to type in the code to unlock the door. Once it was open, I was right on Master’s heels as we entered, my eyes already sweeping for Quatre.
I found him, asleep in front of the couch, his head resting on Trowa’s lap. Trowa had also fallen asleep, his head falling to his shoulder. They looked so natural together, so peaceful and complete.
I couldn’t understand it. How could they be so relaxed together after so little time? Even Quatre, who I had helped nurse back to health, had been wary of me for several days. How could this boy, who spoke even less than I did, so firmly seat himself with both Master and Quatre in only a few days? And Quatre hadn’t even known him that long, for they had only met the day before! I couldn’t... understand...
Master came up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder and startling me from my thoughts. I turned to him, hoping he would not see the confusion inside me. I was lucky, for he was tired. He certainly would have noticed otherwise.
“Why don’t you go turn down the bed?” he asked, lovingly running his hand through my hair. “I’ll wake Trowa and bring Quatre in once you’re done.”
I nodded and obeyed, partially because I felt I had to, and partially because I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t... I didn’t want Trowa in our bed, not because there was anything wrong with him, but... because whatever space he took left that much less for me. My fear that he would be able to push me out still nagged at the very bottom of my soul, and it seemed more and more as though my intuition was correct. But could I begrudge him the same fate that had befallen me? It was through no efforts of my own that master had found me, and likewise had master found him. Perhaps fate was merely retracting the good luck she had bestowed upon me. The ebb and flow of life.
Perhaps the most infuriating quality of Trowa was there was nothing about him to hate. He was quiet, shy, and reserved in an unimposing and unassuming way. He was quick to take commands, and even quicker to offer help. He could tolerate extreme amounts of discomfort without complaint. He was never rebellious or disobedient, instead being perfectly submissive.
It was as though Trowa were me, except better. Instead of destroying his feelings, he had hidden them, and every now and then Quatre or Master could call them forth, just for an instant. It was easy to believe that Trowa would be able to open himself fully to both of them in a few weeks, at most. I, on the other hand, had been with Master nearly two months, and still could not express my emotions to him. When something troubled me, I would allow myself to go blank instead of feeling with the pain and dealing with it. It was cowardly, and I was ashamed of it, but helpless to stop it.
I couldn’t help but sigh softly as I turned down the covers and rubbed my chest. There was a dull ache there that would not fade, a ball of fear and pain. I was trying to keep it there, to feel it instead of blocking it, but whenever I saw Trowa and Quatre so close... It was as though my body were rejecting the emotions. As though it could not sustain pain any longer, having lived by shutting it out for so long. Once the pain was gone, there was only a cold sort of emptiness left, which hurt in an entirely different way, but hurt just the same.
Master came in carrying Quatre then, Trowa following at his heels, sleepily rubbing his eyes. Master put Quatre down on the bed, and the blonde boy woke up just enough to move toward the middle, allowing Trowa room to slide in. I let Master slide in first on the other side, then slid in beside him. I didn’t want to sleep next to Quatre, because Trowa would be so close to him, and I needed to keep my distance from Trowa. I did not want to like the other boy, because liking him would mean lowering my defenses, and lowering my defenses to my rival was unthinkable.
I climbed into bed, and Master pulled me against his chest. I molded well, having slept like that almost every night since I had become Master’s slave. Over his shoulder I could see Trowa and Quatre curled together, the blonde haired head resting beneath the green-eyed boy’s chin. They were beautiful together, so calm and serene, but I felt no pain in admitting this as I nestled myself in Master’s arms. They were together... but I was not alone. I knew Master felt a bond with me, stronger than with the other two, because I had been his first slave, and because he had been intimate with me most often. Maybe... Just maybe... I could be happy with them after all. Perhaps Trowa would not push me out. And Quatre did not ignore me, nor did I receive any less attention from him or Master. Maybe everything would be alright, if Quatre had his partner and I had mine. Maybe everything would be alright...
As long as I remained Master’s favorite.