Authors: Alicia Cameron
“Thank you,” I mumble, trying not to blush now. I had always known I was taking a risk, but I never realized that the risk itself would be what drew him to me. Then again, I never planned for him to exploit me like this.
Slaves are made to be exploited, but somehow my master made me feel like I’d be exempt from that treatment. Maybe it’s because he refused to lend me out, maybe it’s because he ate with me sometimes or bought me nice clothes or let me help with important projects, but I stopped thinking he would use me like that months ago. The realization that he will use me if he needs to hurts, but it reminds me of my place. It also reminds me of how far we’ve come. He can only hurt me because I trust him; I haven’t trusted anyone else to do anything but hurt me since being Demoted.
He lets it go quiet for a moment.
“Am I right in assuming there are other things you’re not telling me?” I ask. He’s given me so much already, but I have to know.
He nods. “Details. They could put you at risk, or me, or my project. But mostly, they could put you at risk. I hope you understand… Sascha, I’ve come to care about you a great deal. The harder I try not to, the more I do. But there are secrets that are better off left alone. I look forward to working with you, now that you know more, but I am still your master. It is my responsibility to make sure you’re safe.”
I accept his explanation. I don’t like it, but I believe him when he says it will keep me safe, and I respect that he isn’t lying to me outright. Out of courtesy, I will avoid digging deeper.
“What about your mother?” I ask, giving him a curious look. I can’t figure out why she was here the other day, or why she was so interested in exposing my master.
“She’s overbearing, and she feels like she’s keeping me safe by hindering my progress,” my master explains.
I wonder if he sees the parallel.
“Did she know about the test study you did?” I ask. For a moment, I think my master is going to shut me down again, tell me it’s none of my business. Then he nods.
“She found out about it,” he admits, looking away like he’s uncomfortable to even talk about it. “She was part of the reason I decided to hold off, to build a stronger case. I’m her only child; she made it very clear that she thought I was in danger. Challenging the status quo… it can come with risks. And there are a lot of powerful people involved in the Miller System. My mother has done everything in her power to keep me out of that world, even when it hurts me. She says it’s for my own good. I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it.”
I nod. My master is paranoid, so careful. I assume it’s a family trait. The Demoted system makes parents very invested in their children’s well-being, and if my master was endangering himself, it would only make sense that his mother would interfere. It feels like there is something more to it, but I can’t put a finger on it. I’ve been given so much already; I won’t pry into family conflict.
Sitting here, I almost forget that I’m a slave. Not because we lie about it, but because it suddenly fails to matter. I have a purpose, I have a question to investigate, and I have a have a man who likes me for more than sex or cleaning. Judging from the hungry look on his face, though, he’s thinking of the first thing.
“You should probably get back to work,” he suggests. “I hope I’ve answered your questions adequately.”
“You have,” I assure him, knowing that the remaining questions won’t get answered anyway. “Thank you, sir. This means so much to me.”
“You’ve exceeded my expectations from the moment I set eyes on you,” he admits. “Even with the problems we’ve had, I don’t regret buying you. I know I’ve threatened to sell you in the past, to give you away, even… that will never happen. You have a place with me as long as you want it.”
I blush, stunned by his heartfelt confession. It’s all I’ve wanted, from the first moment I set eyes on him.
Neither of us speaks another word, and I return to my office, starting on the work we discussed. He leaves me to it, and our few interactions are business as usual. By the end of the day, I’ve started to wonder if last night was a slip of judgment, a poor decision, a fluke that will never, ever happen again. Maybe we’ve reset, so to speak, to before the sex, before the incident with the tablet and my master’s mother. Maybe it’s better this way. I’m walking down the hall toward my room when I hear him stand up from his desk and come up behind me.
“Sascha?”
I freeze, not even turning around. “Yes, master?”
“If you’re going to sleep in my bed again tonight, you should bring some clothes in for the morning. I have some things I need to do and I’ll need you up early.”
Chapter 26
Cashiel
Sascha turns to face me, surprise evident on his face. It takes him a few moments to process, and I start to wonder if I’ve made a mistake. I thought there was something between us, but he tries so hard to please me. I don’t want it to be fake. Maybe it is for the best that he and I go our separate ways.
Then his face lights up. “Yes, master,” he says, but his face shows his excitement, as does the speed with which he dashes off.
He’s still excited when he meets me in my bedroom, but nervous as well. I look at the sliding glass doors that make up the better part of my east-facing wall, undressing slowly. We went so fast last night, I want to take my time tonight. I turn my head to see Sascha standing there, uncertain.
“There’s some space in the nightstand that you’re standing next to,” I tell him.
He sets his clothes in the space that I’ve indicated, as well as his toothbrush and toothpaste. I consider telling him to put them in the bathroom, but I decide he can put his things where he feels most comfortable. He waits for me to tell him what to do.
“Come here,” I order, taking the pressure off of him.
He comes to my side quickly, still looking nervous and excited. I doubt it’s the act itself; he’s not a blushing virgin by any means. It’s me, us, the change in how we’re interacting. I look at him and nod. This is good.
“Stand over there and strip,” I order, pointing toward the doors. “Slowly. I want to watch.”
He does as I ask, and turns to face me as he starts to remove his shirt.
“No, turn around,” I correct. “Look outside.”
I see him tense as he turns his back to me, but I trust he’ll relax with time. I want him to see the view. The glass doors themselves are of excellent quality, and subtle etchings decorate the edges, framing the cityscape. We’re close enough that the buildings are clearly visible, not just dots or outlines, but the greater expanse of the city dissolves into sparkling lights that complement the stars in the sky. Everything is visible from this spot, my own take on being on top of the world.
“The view is the main reason I bought this place,” I mention, watching as Sascha twists, almost turning, then stays where I’ve ordered him, slowly continuing to remove his clothes. I smile at his self-control.
“That, and it’s just far enough outside of the city that I can do pretty much whatever I want.” This was my biggest concern when I bought the place. Privacy, seclusion. I had had enough of people; I wanted space. For years, it belonged only to me, and I never thought I wanted anyone else in it until I bought Sascha.
“It’s beautiful, master.” Sascha is down to just his underwear, and he slips them off seductively, leaving him naked.
“You should see it at sunrise,” I comment, wondering if that will ever happen. I sit on the bed, getting comfortable before I give him his next order. “Turn around.”
He obeys, turning to reveal his body to me. He’s hard, as I am, and he looks scared and exposed, but not unwilling.
“One day, I’ll have you stand there at sunrise,” I decide, smiling at the thought.
I’m quiet, giving him the chance to take the lead if he wants to. I glance over his body, admiring it, thinking of the way he felt underneath me last night. He’s covered in scars and marks, but even that doesn’t make him any less attractive. He looks down after a moment, going red and starting to squirm. I wonder what he’s terrified himself thinking about this time.
“Do you like to give head?” I ask, hoping I can bring him back from the hole he’s lost himself in.
He responds automatically. “If it pleases you, master.”
I sigh, hating the words. I may as well be working in a re-education center. “Sascha, how is it that you can be so goddamned annoying and difficult and obstinate when I ask you to do the simplest things and then when I ask you an honest fucking question give me some stock slave answer?”
He doesn’t answer, he just looks ashamed.
“Let’s try this again,” I say more firmly. “Do you like to give head?”
This time, he actually thinks about it. “To the right person, master.”
I laugh. He goes so quickly from disgustingly trained to almost offensive. “I suppose that’s a little better,” I admit. “What kind of people do you
like
to give head to?”
He looks confused, but he answers.
“I guess, people who enjoy it a lot, master?”
“Have you really met people who don’t enjoy it?” I ask, laughing. “Go on.”
“People who are gentle. And don’t hurt me when they do it, master. People I find attractive.”
Such simple preferences. I want him to ask for so much more.
I beckon him closer with my finger, and he obeys immediately. He stops an arm’s length away from me, and I respond by reaching out and grabbing his hips, pulling him between my legs. I’m demanding, but he seemed to enjoy that last night. He looks nervous. I reach around him, stroking his legs and ass and lower back, pretty much everywhere I can reach. He relaxes the tiniest bit, but he still looks wary.
“You’re so tense,” I comment. Ordering him to stop would be counterproductive, but I’m not much good at comforting, either. “I’m not going to hurt you; relax.”
I don’t ask him to speak, yet, because he always struggles with that when he’s scared—whether it’s for a valid reason or not. His body is enjoying what I’m doing, I can feel his cock pressing against my leg. I showed him a good time last night, and I know he’s attracted to me. This must be a huge change for him.
“You have my express permission to stop whenever you want to, or to say no,” I remind him, hoping it will calm him. “I thought I made that clear enough last night, but it bears repeating. I don’t want you to do this unless you’re genuinely interested, and I won’t be upset with you if you want to stop. I hope I’ve been clear enough with my expectations in the past that you can believe that, because it’s the truth. So, with that in mind, would you like to go down on me?”
He looks shocked, but after a few moments, he replies, looking a little more secure. “Y-yes, master.”
“Good,” I say, smiling at him. I wait, letting him set the pace. I’m in no hurry, and I’m not about to put more pressure on him. When he sinks to his knees and looks up at me, I glide my hands over his back and shoulders, waiting eagerly.
He leans in tentatively, taking only the tip in his mouth. I feel him hesitating, taking my cock only slightly deeper into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it carefully. I could sit here for hours and let him explore my body.
I watch him, see his hair falling to frame his face. I reach up to run my hand through it, feeling the silky softness for only a moment before he takes a deep breath and braces himself, his lips and tongue going pliant.
“I’m not going to pull your hair or force your head,” I assure him, carding through his hair calmly. “I’ve been taught manners, you know.”
I keep moving my hand through his hair, soothing him, letting him take his time to do what he wants. He focuses after a few moments, taking me deep and working the muscles of his throat around my cock. I feel myself growing harder, and I start to breathe faster. It’s been so long, and he is skilled at what he does, I rock back and forth with his motions, holding back, making sure to be careful with him. I can feel him relaxing, and when I make a low sound of pleasure, I can feel him shivering and working my cock more excitedly. I want to come, but I keep my promise and stay gentle with him. It gets to be too much all of a sudden, and I grip his shoulders, pushing him away as lightly as I can before I come.
“Master?” he asks, looking up at me with confusion.
I smile down at him. “How sore are you? From last night?”
He blushes, only increasing my desire to have him. “Only a little, master.”
I consider it for a moment. If he’s sore, I don’t want to press him for sex. I want this to be good. “We could just continue—”
“Please, I want you to fuck me!” He blurts out, cowering the second he does.
I hate to think that someone would hurt him for such a request. “Go grab the lube. Top shelf in the cabinet. And relax, for fuck’s sake, or you’ll be a hell of a lot more sore tomorrow.”
He grins at me, darting off to retrieve it. I climb into bed and lean back against the pillows, watching him. He joins me hesitantly, searching my face for direction.
“Come here,” I order, and he crawls up between my legs. He hesitates at my cock, but I have other plans for him.
I grab him by the hair carefully, trying to be playful, and once he starts moving with me, I stretch him out over the length of my body, face-to-face with me. I move my hand to grip the back of his neck and pull him down to kiss me. My cock throbs as he moans for me.
I pull the lube from his hand and reach behind Sascha’s back, carefully pouring the lube onto my hands. I reach around and press my fingers inside of him, preparing him for what’s about to come. I feel him shiver in anticipation and I work my fingers in deeper, enjoying the way he stays, held up by his elbows, kissing me as I take possession of him. He rolls his hips, working my fingers deeper inside of him. I can’t wait to have him on my cock, but I still want him to take a more active role in this. I slide my fingers out, pleased when he writhes on top of me, and I caress his legs.
“Come down when you’re ready,” I whisper into his ear, keeping my voice low. “You can take it slow if you want.”
The surprise comes first, and then the confusion.