Date: Tue, 28 Jun 2016 00:56:02 -0400
From: Matt W <matt10019@gmail.com>
Subject: Bred Slave - Part 18

The following is a work of fiction.  All characters are over 18 years of
age.  There are depictions of sexual acts and homoerotic themes.  Please do
not read any further if you are not legally eligible or would be offended
by the material.

CHAPTER 24 - AND THEN THE MORNING COMES

"More cream, anyone?" Connor asked cheerfully from one end of the large
dining room table where formal meals and Sunday breakfasts were often held
in the Grey house, especially for guests.  He lifted the silver creamer
from the table in offering. "Brent? Ryan?"

I couldn't help but glance to Ryan and Brent from where I stood in wait by
the sideboard wearing nothing but a collar and a short black apron tied
around my waist that obscured little more than my cock.  Breakfast was far
less formal than dinners served in the dining room and thus I was spared
the itchy confines of the waiter-style tuxedo.

"No, thanks," Brent muttered flatly without looking up from where he was
hunched over his plate mindlessly pushing the same bit of scrambled egg
around with his fork without any apparent intention of actually picking it
up to eat.

Meanwhile, Ryan's silent glare was deadly from where he was slumped back in
his chair across the table, arms crossed before his untouched plate of food
even though I'd been careful to fill it with extra portions of his
favorites.

"Suit yourself."  Connor shrugged and set the creamer down on the table
before continuing to inhale his heaping pile of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

Mr. Grey cleared his throat. "Not much of an appetite, eh boys?"  He
chuckled lightly to himself.  "Must have been one helluva of a night.  I
was never much one to handle food on a hangover either, but maybe a little
something to take your mind off it would he lp?" With that, he snapped his
fingers in my direction and pointed sharply to the table. "Boy! Lose the
skirt and make yourself useful. We have guests."

Ryan and Brent exchanged immediate glances, both of them looking as if they
might vomit at the thought of a blowjob, even on the receiving end. Connor
merely continued to shovel forkfuls of food into his mouth, completely
unaffected by the notion.

"Yes, Sir." I untied the apron from my waste and folded it neatly on top of
the sidebar. Glancing to Ryan who barely glanced in my direction, I dropped
down to all fours and crawled carefully under the hem of the table cloth
that spilled over the edges of the long dining table. It was dark under the
table, but I'd been through this before and made my way carefully to where
Brent was sitting, identifiable by his bare feet that differed in shape
from Ryan's, and the old navy blue sweatpants with our high school's name
faded on one leg. I'd found them in Ryan's room for him to wear while the
rest of his clothing remained locked in Connor's trunk from the night
before.

*

Upholding the terms of the bet to the letter, Connor retained complete
control over Ryan and Brent until precisely nine in morning.  After we'd
left them in the cell, Connor had taken me back to his room.  He chained me
to the foot of the bed again by my collar, and threw me a pillow and
blanket as a reward for serving him well.  I had assumed that we were done
for the night so it was with much confusion and surprise that I was jolted
awake to the sound of a phone alarm at four in the morning. Connor,
however, knew exactly what he was doing and popped out of bed.

He detached my leash from the bed and used it to drag me stumbling groggily
through the darkened house, urging me to remain quiet while the rest of the
occupants were asleep.  We swung by Mr. Grey's study and he instructed me
to pick any two books off the shelf while he rummaged through the desk for
some legal pads and some pens.

Returning to the wine cellar dungeon, my stomach twisted with sympathy as
Connor unlocked and threw open the cell door with as much noise as
possible, surely enough to nearly give the boys within heart attacks.  I'll
never know if they actually managed any sort of actual sleep, chained in
the cell as they were, but as I'd learned many times over, sleep is
actually possible in any number of uncomfortable circumstances if the body
needs it enough.  The overhead bulb was illuminated and I'll never forget
the looks on Ryan's and Brent's faces as they winced their eyes closed from
the blinding light and tried to cower into the dark corners of the cell as
far as their overhead chains would allow them.  They looked so frightened
and pathetic.

"Think you boys have had enough rest for one night. On your knees!" Connor
demanded with a harsh bite as he tossed the pads and pens to the ground.

The boys struggled to their knees with mixed looks of exhaustion and
complete bewilderment on their faces as if they had just awoken into some
bizarre nightmare, which is exactly what it was.  Connor reached in with
the set of keys, and released both of their wrists from the dangling
chains.  Immediately, they both began to stretch their arms across their
chests like they were warming up for lacrosse practice.

"Stop flailing around like a bunch of ballerinas," Connor barked. "Hands
behind your backs when I'm talking to you."  He waited for them to comply,
and when they did, Connor took the two old leather-bound books from my
hands and bopped one on each of their heads lightly. "Time to give those
pea brains a work out."  He tossed a book in front of each of them with a
loud thud.  "I want these books transcribed, and I do mean transcribed.
Word for word, letter for letter, period for fucking period. And if I'm not
satisfied with your progress when I come back, I'm taking it out on your
asses."

Brent and Ryan both looked utterly dismayed, still completely wrecked from
the night before and in shock from the rude awakening. Their usually clean
cut hair was matted and disheveled.  Their naked bodies displayed evidence
of the light flogging they'd experienced, and while their kneels were
relatively sloppy, their attempt showed that they were trying and too tired
to fight.

"Aww, what's the matter?" Connor asked Brent with mock sympathy in his
voice as he reached down to rub his hand roughly in the boy's hair. "You
didn't think I was coming down here to let you out, did you?  A deal is a
deal, after all.  And besides, it's only four a.m."  I could tell by the
looks on both of their faces that finding out the time was a shock.  They
had probably assumed it was at least six or seven in the morning by now.
"Get to writing, boys."

Timidly, they both slid one of the legal pads in front of their knees and
opened their respective books.  I realized, of course, that it didn't
matter what the books were.  It was a fiendish punishment and my blood ran
cold as I watched Connor lean against the door of the cell with his arms
crossed to ensure that his orders were being carried out.  Mindless, menial
labor in the middle of the night served no real purpose whatsoever other
than to keep the slaves busy and deny them free use of the time they had so
stupidly surrendered to Connor.  He was both an evil genius, and a natural
dominant, far more so than Ryan had yet shown himself to be.  I only feared
he might learn a little too much from his older cousin by the time all was
said and done, and I would be the one he took it out on.

Connor yawned dramatically, and stretched his arms, satisfied with the way
Ryan and Brent had started to transcribe the books.  It looked difficult,
the way they were hunched over on their knees, the cramped cell only
allowing them so much space to work.  Their heads moved back and forth
almost in unison as they began to write out the first page of their books.
It wouldn't be long until their knees, elbows and backs would be screaming
in discomfort, and they would need to try other positions. "Okay, boy. Back
to bed." Connor took hold of my chain leash and gave it a tug. "These
slaves have work to do."

Back to sleep we went, Connor peacefully in the large bed, and me chained
to the foot.  Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep while imagining Ryan
and Brent hard at work in the basement below.

Without my usual alarm set to wake me up at the crack of dawn for a morning
workout, I easily slept straight through to eight a.m. when I awoke to the
light prodding of Connor's toes in my ribs.  I rubbed the sleep from my
eyes, blinking into the morning sunlight that streamed through the sheer
curtains.

"Upsy daisy," he cooed with a sly chuckle as he reached down to release the
chain from my collar. "Time for your protein shake."

The blanket was whisked from my body in a swift motion and his strong hand
took hold of my collar.  I scrambled wearily to my knees and feet as he
pulled me up and forward until I was on top of the bed.  With a loud plop,
he fell backwards onto the mattress and made himself comfortable.  He
stuffed two pillows beneath his head and spread his legs just enough to let
me in.

His boxers were tented obscenely with his morning wood.  Wordlessly, I
crawled up to him and worked to slide his boxers down his legs.  When his
dick was free, I went to work as I had the previous night, choking down the
largest cock I had yet to suck as best I could, occasionally gagging and
pulling away to gasp for air.  My struggles only seemed to excite him
further, and it wasn't long before his breaths became harried and his body
tensed just before he exploded into me.

"Take it boy...take it.  Good, boy," he coaxed as I swallowed as rapidly as
I could, slurping back what felt like waterfalls of saliva and his cum to
avoid spilling it back over his dick.  When I pulled off of him, he reached
between his legs and gave his shaft a squeeze, forcing the last bit of the
load to pool at the top of his slit.  Expectantly, I leaned forward and
swiped the remainder from his cock head with my tongue.  He smiled. "You
really are a good cock slut. Open. Show me."

My cheeks flushed a bit, but I leaned forward on all fours and opened my
mouth wide, protruding my tongue just enough to ensure he could see I had
swallowed it all.

"Good."  He gave my cheek a light pat and reached to take hold of my collar
again.  I had expected him to push me off the bed, but in a surprising
move, he pulled me towards him and I fell somewhat awkwardly onto his firm
chest from the force. "Roll over," he whispered calmly. "On your back.
Relax your arms. Relax, boy.  Relax."

Connor helped me to roll over until I was lying at an awkward angle against
his chest and stomach, and with a hand to my forehead, he guided my head to
rest against his shoulder.  He flicked the dog tags that rested in the
crevice between my pecs off to the side and then, for several wordless
moments, he ran both of his hands haphazardly up and down the length of my
torso, occasionally tweaking my nipples.

With one hand, he fiddled with strands of my hair while petting my
forehead, and with the other, he extended his reach and took hold of my
cock.  I tensed at the grip, but he quickly relaxed his hand and began to
toy haphazardly with my package, tracing his finger along my shaft and then
tickling my balls.  It wasn't long before I was fully erect.  Taking hold
of the base, he amused himself for a few moments by wiggling my stiff
member around and then made a game of bending it forward and letting it
slap back against my stomach.

"Think you deserve to cum, boy?" He mused quietly, his deep voice rumbling
in his chest beneath me.  Before I could answer, he squeezed my cock and
massaged a drop of precum up to the tip.

"Yes, Sir," I whispered with my eyes closed, suddenly unable to think of
anything else in the world but my primal need for release.

"Mmhmm. Open," he commanded, as he swiped the droplet of precum from my
cock head.  He brought his finger to my lips and smeared the precum across
my waiting tongue. "Now, spit."

He cupped his palm beneath my chin, and I closed my mouth to work up as
much loose saliva as I could before lifting my head from his shoulder to
spit into his waiting hand.

"Good, boy."  I let my head drop back as he cupped his hand around my cock
and gave it a few strokes, coating it with a thin sheen of my saliva.  When
I was primed, he relaxed his grasp but kept his hand curled around my dick.
"Fuck my hand, boy."

Immediately, I responded, lifting my crotch as much as I could to thrust my
cock up through the loosely formed tunnel of his fingers and palm.  The
position was awkward and took all of my core strength as I reached my hands
out to either side to help brace myself as I bucked my hips upwards.

"Hurry up, boy. Show me you want it," he encouraged, though I could
practically hear the smirk in his tone. "If my hand cramps before you cum,
you're shit out of luck. I'll lock that thing away faster than you can
spell the word denied."

Swallowing, I bucked harder, the feeling of my sensitive cock sliding
through his grasp was the definition of pleasure tempered by the
desperation of losing my chance to cum again until who knew when.  By the
time I felt the familiar tightening in my balls, I was practically panting.
 "I... I'm going to cum, Sir."

Connor swallowed an amused chuckle and suddenly firmed his grasp again,
sliding his fist towards the base of my cock to direct my explosion towards
my stomach. "Looks like you earned it, boy."

I winced my eyes closed and gasped as the first wave of orgasmic pleasure
radiated through my core and pulsed through my cock sending the first
ribbon of pent up cum rocketing against my chest.  He held my cock firmly
as glob after glob of hot cum landed on my stomach until my balls were
empty and the last bit of my ejaculate was left dribbling down my softening
cock.  I exhaled with satisfaction as he released my cock and I felt it
flop against my thigh, leaving it sticky with streaks of cum.

"Messy, boy," he teased. Clean yourself up. I started to reach for the box
of tissues on the night stand, but his hand rocketed out of no where to
cuff my wrist.  "Ah, ah, ah.  You know better than that.  Where does a
slave's cum belong?"

"Inside me, Sir," I answered with defeat in my voice as I quickly fell from
the high of my orgasm back to the reality of my slavery.

"Smart boy."  He bopped my head lightly with his fist. "Have at it."

Lifting my head again I looked down the length of my naked torso, dotted
with pools of glistening white cum, and used two fingers to scoop the first
pool from my chest.  I brought my fingers coated with the sticky substance
to my lips, hesitating as the musk of my own seed filled my nostrils.
Closing my eyes, I shoved the fingers inside my mouth and sucked them
clean.  Swallowing dramatically as if to confirm my compliance, I repeated
with the next scoop of cum, and the next, until all visible traces of my
cum were deposited into my stomach and all that remained of my short lived
ecstasy were sticky patches of skin.

"I'm hopping in the shower, boy."  With a firm push, he urged me to roll
off the side of the bed with enough warning that I was able to brace my
fall with both hands to the floor before the rest of my body slid off the
silky sheets.  I was sprawled awkwardly on my stomach in front of the
nightstand, but before I had a chance to pick myself up, he swung his legs
off of the bed and planted one of his feet firmly on my ass cheeks.  When
he rose, half of his body weight pressed down against my ass, grinding my
crotch into the floor below as he pushed off the bed and used me like a
step stool on his way to the bathroom.  "Run over to the guest house and
find those two fuckwads something to wear when I free them. Make it look
like they crashed at Ryan's place. Take the back steps and don't be seen.
Then, meet me in the gym. Got it, boy?"

"Yes, Sir."

By the time I ran to the guest house and returned to the basement rec room
with a small pile of sweatpants, t-shirts and fresh boxers I'd retrieved
from Ryan's room, Connor was just making his way down the basement steps,
fresh from his shower in a crisp oxford shirt and dark jeans.  He nodded
his head towards the door of the wine cellar and I followed him quietly
into the dungeon.

"Well, well, well.  What do we have here?" Connor mused with a knowing
smirk on his face as he threw open the cell door.

I peered around Connor's legs into the cell, still illuminated by the
single bulb.  Both Ryan and Brent were curled on the floor in near fetal
positions all but passed out.  They stirred groggily from the noise but
barely moved.  One of the books was overturned as if to mark the spot where
one of them left on transcribing, and the other was closed completely.
Ryan's left cheek was resting on the yellow legal pad and a small pool of
drool had the black ink from the pen bleeding and smeared over the paper.
Any work he had actually done appeared to be rendered completely illegible.

"What the fuck is this, you lazy pieces of shit?" Connor demanded as he
reached forward to retrieve the legal pads.  He pulled Ryan's out swiftly
from beneath his head ensuring that he was now fully awake if he wasn't
before.  "You dumbasses can't even handle one simple task?"

He barely glanced at the legal pads, though from what I could see, it was
clear that Brent had written more than Ryan, but neither of them had
bothered to fill more than a page. Both Ryan and Brent started to push
themselves up, blinking the sleep from their eyes with weary confusion as
to what was happening.  Connor tore off the written pages and tossed the
pads to the ground.  He made a show of ripping the two pages in half and
crumpled them angrily into a ball.  The crumpled ball was thrown forward
and bounced off of Ryan's bare chest.  It merely added insult to injury
that Connor didn't bother to check the quality of the work that had been
done.

"Get the fuck out of there."  Connor snapped his fingers and stepped aside
pointing to the center of the dungeon room. "Line it up. All three of you.
Display!"

I set the clothes down on one of the benches and joined Ryan and Brent in
adopting a display position near the center of the room.  Standing elbow to
elbow with our hands behind our heads, we were silent as Connor stalked
slowly around us, making a casual inspection of his property much as he had
done the night before.  I watched in my periphery as he tweaked Ryan's
nipples and then swatted at Brent's dangling cock and balls.  From behind,
he lightly spanked all of our asses and then left us completely to walk to
the other side of the room.  I could sense that Ryan and Brent were
desperate to know how much time was left in their contract of service, but
they had to know that despite the lack of a clock and daylight in the room,
they were close to the finish line.

We all tensed as we heard the familiar screech of the hose being turned on
and the gurgle of water as it began to flow through the pipes in the
exposed ceiling.

"You boys reek like the dirty nut sacks that you are," Connor taunted as
the spray of cold water opened up from behind and cut into our bare backs.
 "Don't fucking move!"  We all gasped and lurched forward, shivering and
struggling to hold our poses as he worked the relentless torrent of cold
water over our backsides and in between our ass cheeks.  He went down the
line and held the spray over each of our heads, dousing our hair and
sending waterfalls of cold water streaming down our faces before he moved
to our front sides.  He zigzagged the spray over our chests and stomachs,
rinsing our bodies of any remaining traces of dried cum, saliva or sweat.
Lastly, he took particular pleasure in using the forceful stream to bat
about our cocks and balls like a deranged version of a shooting arcade.
Finally, the water cut off as quickly as it had begun, leaving using
dripping wet and shivering.

"Kneel," Connor barked, and we all dropped to our knees, our teeth still
practically chattering. "Hands behind your backs."  We complied as he
tossed the hose aside and moved to stand before Brent.  "Look at me."
 Reaching down, he lifted Brent's chin until his head was tilted back.
"Proud of you, boy, for manning up and not being a complete fucking pussy."
 I can only imagine that Brent and Ryan were as stunned as I were at the
abrupt shift in tone.  "Thank me for teaching you a lesson."  Brent said
nothing in response, which prompted a tighter grasp on his chin.  Connor
moved his head up and down as if he were a puppet.  "Thank you for teaching
me a valuable lesson, Sir.  Say it."

"Thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson.  Sir."  Brent muttered with
clear disdain in his voice..

"Good enough."  Connor smiled and patted him lightly on the cheek.  He
pushed Brent's head forward and leaned over to unbuckle the collar.
"Stand."  Brent easily pushed up to his feet.  I glanced over and could
tell he was surprised when Connor extended his hand.  "We end this like it
began. A bet is a bet. No hard feelings?"

Brent hesitated, but silently returned the handshake.

"Get dressed. The boy grabbed you some clothes."  Connor nodded towards the
small pile of clothing across the room and took a step to stand in front of
Ryan who was still kneeling.  "Look up."  Connor tilted Ryan's head back to
stare down at his cousin.  "You too.  Didn't think you had it in you to
keep your word, but here we are."  I could practically feel the heat from
Ryan's glare though I couldn't quite see his eyes.  "Thank me for teaching
you a valuable lesson."  We all waited on baited breath to see how Ryan
would respond.

"Thank you for teaching me a valuable lesson," Ryan murmured through mostly
clenched teeth, as if the words themselves pained him.

"Sir," Connor corrected him.

"Sir," Ryan retorted flatly.  I watched him lean his head forward in
anticipation of having the collar removed, but Connor pushed his head back.

"Not so fast.  I need to know that you fully understand what went down
here.  Repeat after me.  Dumb decisions have consequences."  The room was
silent for a long moment until Connor bopped Ryan lightly on the forehead.
 "Say it."

"Dumb decisions have consequences," Ryan repeated, begrudgingly.

"I made the bet, and I paid the debt," Connor continued, sounding pleased
with himself at stumbling on a rhyme.  He gestured dramatically for Ryan to
repeat.

"I made the bet. I paid the debt," Ryan replied, flatly.

Connor smirked a bit and glanced to me. "And, I won't take it out on my
slave."

Ryan was silent. I could practically hear him grinding his teeth with
annoyance.  He exhaled loudly through his nose and repeated quickly, "And,
I won't take it out on my slave. Happy?"

"That's the spirit," Connor mused, grabbing Ryan's damp hair and pulling
his head forward as if to seize his last moment of dominance.  He fiddled
with the buckle and removed the collar before tossing it to the ground.
"Stand."  He extended his hand as he had done for Brent.

Ryan pushed up quickly to his feet and looked down at the hand like it was
covered in poison ivy.  Instead of shaking it, he merely shouldered Connor
out of the way as he stormed across the room to claim his clothing.  Brent
was silent as he straightened his t-shirt over his damp torso and then ran
his hands through his hair.

"I guess that's that, then." Connor cleared his throat and shook his head
with disappointment.  "Oh, I ran into your dad on my way down this
morning," he continued cheerily, as if nothing at all happened.  "I let him
know Brent crashed over at the guest house last night.  He'll be expecting
both of you at breakfast."  He took hold of my arm and helped to pull me up
to my feet. "And, I understand you're on serving duty this week, so better
get up there before he takes it out on your ass for being late."

"Yes, Sir."  I started heading for the dungeon door.

"Fuck that. I'm out of here," Brent responded, breaking his silence. He
glanced at Ryan as if suddenly feeling guilty for abandoning him.  "Sorry,
bro."

Connor pulled his phone out of his pocket and chuckled, holding it up for
them to see. "Oh, did I fail to mention it's only 8:55?  You're both going
to march up the back stairs and come right back into the house to sit your
asses at the table like gentlemen or I will drag you both up there on a
leash.  Your choice."

The room was tense and silent again for an uncomfortable moment.
 "Whatever, let's get this fucking over with."  Ryan broke the tension and
brushed by me on his way out of the dungeon without looking back.  Brent
followed radiating an aura of anger and frustration.

*

"Sir, would you like me to service you?"  I knelt on all fours in front of
Brent's chair and strained my neck to peer up at him from my awkward
position beneath the table.

"No, thanks," Brent grumbled.  I couldn't quite see his face, but I
imagined he was rather disgusted by the notion.

I crawled to Connor's fresh pair of white sneakers and strained to look up
at him. "Sir, would you like me to service you?"

Connor reached below the table and gave my head a quick pat.  "No thanks,
boy.  You've already taken good care of me this visit. See to your master.
Don't think either of these dudes got lucky last night...unless you guys
took care of each other, and hey, there's nothing wrong with that!"  He
chuckled heartily at his own joke, but it was evident that he was the only
one laughing.

I could only imagine the daggers that Ryan was surely glaring at Connor
across the table above and how red Brent's face had probably gotten.  After
all, Connor had forced them to service each other in the course of their
temporary enslavement.

Crawling to Ryan's feet, I swallowed, suddenly nervous as I knelt before my
true owner for the first time since he had suffered the ultimate
humiliation.  "Sir, would you like me to service you?"

He said nothing at first, and just as I braced for another rejection, I saw
him slide forward to the edge of his chair.  "You know, what? Yeah. Why the
fuck not?"

"Language," Mr. Grey warned. "We're in polite company."

Ryan scoffed, as I reached up to help him push and pull his sweatpants and
boxers down from his hips to his his ankles.  "Yeah. Nothing impolite about
getting my dick sucked at the breakfast table in front of my best friend
and my cousin."  He pulled his feet from the from pool of fabric and spread
his legs, scooting another inch forward to the edge of the chair.
 "Worship," he said flatly without looking down. "Tongue, only.  I'll
finish off in your ass later.  Wouldn't want to be impolite."  He
emphasized the word sharply.

I crawled forward between his legs and cautiously extended my tongue until
I made contact with the soft skin of his flaccid dick and then reverently
began to lick and suckle at the soft wiry hairs that sprouted from his ball
sack.  Everything from the scent to the taste was familiar, and in an odd
way, comforting.

"Oh, do you suddenly have a problem with our unique lifestyle?" Mr. Grey
asked, calmly as if they were discussing politics or the weather. "As far
as I can tell, seems like you enjoy having a slave around the house."

Ryan offered no response and awkward tension filled the room, silent other
than the faint scraping of a fork and knife against a plate.  I could only
assume that Connor was still the only one really eating.

Connor suddenly cleared his throat, and I saw his chair slide back in my
periphery. "Well, as great as it's been catching up, I should really be
hitting the road."

"Oh? So soon?" Mr. Grey asked, pushing back in his chair to rise.

"Yeah, I should really be getting back.  Have some things I gotta take care
of," Connor explained, sounding as if it pained him to have to leave. "Mind
if I send the boy up to pack my shit, err, I mean, my things?"

Mr. Grey chuckled. "If it's okay with Ryan?"

Ryan sighed and pushed me off of his dick. "You heard him, boy. Just make
it quick."

"Yes, Sir." I crawled out from under the table while Ryan pushed back and
leaned over to step back into his sweatpants.

"Oh, hey, I could drive you guys back to town to pick up your car?  Drop
Brent off at your frat house?" Connor offered.

"The boy will do it," Ryan replied sharply, before turning to me. "Report
to the house when you're done with this." Ryan looked to Brent and nodded
towards the doorway. "C'mon, bro."

"Suit yourself."  Connor offered Ryan a broad smile and again extended his
hand in offering.  "Hey man, great fun hanging out last night. Good seeing
you."

Ryan hesitated for an uncomfortable moment while Brent and I exchanged
quick glances.  Eventually, he reached out to accept the handshake, even
allowing Connor to pull him into a quick man hug. "Yeah, you too, dude.
Safe trip."

Connor extended his hand to Brent and they shook. "You too, man. Great
meeting you."

Brent nodded silently in reply and quickly led the way out of the room.
Mr. Grey put his arm around Connor's shoulder and began to chit chat
quietly as he walked him out of the dining room.

I ran up the back stairs and down the hall to the guest room.  Retrieving
all of Connor's remaining clothing from the closet, dresser, and floor
where he'd left his dirty laundry, I moved everything to the bed to sort.
After turning his worn clothing inside out, I folded all of it neatly and
layered it carefully inside his duffel next to his toiletry kit.  Zipping
the bag closed, I quickly double-checked the room to ensure I hadn't missed
anything.

A quarter of the way down the stairs, I froze in my tracks as I heard Mr.
Grey's voice carrying unknowingly up the stairway.  He was in the midst of
what appeared to be a farewell handshake with Connor, but he was in no
hurry to let go of his nephew's hand.

Mr. Grey leaned into Connor as he pulled him closer.  "You know, son,
nothing happens in this house that I don't know about," he began with an
edge to his voice.  "You think we would just leave the slaves locked up in
those cells or hanging from the rafters alone without being able to monitor
their safety from afar?"

I had always suspected that there were cameras hidden in the dungeon, which
was something of a relief to know how much he valued our safety.

"Yeah...look, about that..." Connor stammered, sounding suddenly much
younger and less authoritative than moments ago. "It was just a silly
wager, Unc..."

"I don't want to hear it," Mr. Grey snapped.  "The only reason I didn't
pull the plug on your little charade last night is because Ryan isn't a kid
any more and needs to take responsibility for whatever shit he stepped in
with you.  But don't you ever - ever - disrespect my son under MY roof like
that again. And especially in front of his own slave.  Got it?"

Connor nodded sheepishly. "Got it.  I'm sorry.  Things just got out of..."

"Enough. It's over," Mr. Grey cut him off and finally released his hand.
 "Get on out of here. The boy will be out soon."

I waited on the step trying to remain as still and silent as possible while
Connor retreated through the back door to the driveway and Mr. Grey
disappeared into the interior of the house. Exhaling with relief, I
continued down the stairs and made my way outside.

Connor was leaning against the side of his car with his arms crossed and
the trunk already popped open.  I deposited the duffel and noticed that
Ryan and Brent's discarded clothing from the night before was still
inside.  After retrieving their clothes and Brent's hat, I gently closed
the trunk and walked around the side of the car.  He half smiled and
snapped his fingers, pointing to the driveway in front of him.  I knelt
before him, holding the bunch of clothing to my chest.

"You're a good boy, Drew. I hope your master appreciates you."  His tone
had softened considerably from when he had first arrived the afternoon
before.  He'd worn his arrogance and dominance like a coat of armor, but
much like his younger cousin seemed to be learning, it was a heavy weight
to bear full time.

"Thank you, Sir."

"If you ever want a change in ownership, find a way to reach me." He
reached forward and ruffled my hair for a final time. "Be good."

"Yes, Sir."  I swallowed and looked up as he slid into the driver's seat
and the engine roared to life.  He nodded once more before pulling the door
closed.

I watched the car roll backwards down the driveway and disappear down the
street before I rose to find Ryan and Brent in the guest house.  Connor's
words echoed in my head as I let myself in but I quickly filed them away to
steel myself for Ryan's wrath.  Promise or not, I could only imagine the
amount of pent up anger he was surely ready to release in my direction.

"Took you long enough," Ryan remarked quietly from where he and Brent were
casually lying on the couch with their feet propped up on the coffee table
staring blankly at some cable sports network at a very low volume.  Brent's
head was resting against the back of the couch and I realized he was
already sleeping.  Instead of raging mad, Ryan looked just as tired and
completely spent.

"Sorry, Sir. Do you want me to drive you back to town?" I asked, keeping my
voice at just above a whisper out of respect for Brent's impromptu nap.

"Nah, let him sleep." Ryan shrugged. "Come over here, boy."

"Yes, Sir."  I set their clothes on one of the kitchen stools and padded
over to the couch.  I dropped to my knees next to Ryan's legs and
expectantly started to reach for his waistband to finish what had been
interrupted in the dining room by Connor's departure.

"Nah, no, let's just chill for a bit. C'mon, turn around. Have a seat," he
whispered without really taking his eyes off the screen.

I turned around and went down to my ass on the soft carpet.  He leaned
forward and pulled me back so I was resting against the couch and then
lifted his legs from the coffee table and scooted a bit so he could drape
them instead over my shoulders.  For several minutes, he silently surfed
through the multitude of sports channels.  Suddenly the surfing stopped and
I heard the remote drop from his hand to the leather cushion with a soft
thud.  A moment later, he slumped down sideways against the couch in an
apparently deep sleep, his legs still tangled over my shoulders.

As carefully as I could, I freed myself from his legs and gently lifted
them to the cushion until he was lying more comfortably on his side.
Swiping the remote, I flipped off the TV and curled into a ball on the
floor beside the couch.  I couldn't help but smile.

***
To be continued. Comments and Feedback are encouraged: matt10019@gmail.com

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