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The Organisation of Submissive Ownership

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Firstly, i need to say:

 I DO NOT AGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS DURING THIS FIC. RAPE CAN NOT BE EXCUSED. YOU SHOULD NOT TREAT PEOPLE AS LESS THAN YOU (unless you are with consensual participants of TPE during a scene etc) Read it for your enjoyment, the morals of these people in this AU are different to real life, and doesn't mean they are right. 

some themes in this fic would be horrendous if they occured in real life, and i absolutely DO NOT encourage these themes in real life (although they can be quiet fun to read about in fiction. but please remember the difference between the two). 
The benefits of fiction is being able to explore different worlds without them being real, both from the reader and writers POV. But I want to make it clear that this is an AU, i do not encourage the themes explored in this fic. And if you or i become aware of anything like this was happening in real life (non-consensually) it should be reported to the police/appropriate authorities. This is a work of complete fiction. 

 

My motivation for writing this fic:
Almost all slavery fics are set about the recovery (i think i have found one which wasn't, although if you have any recommendations i would love to hear them!)
I've always been more interested in those bad masters that you only ever have short flashbacks off. So i'm testing a few limits and doing something different. I'm sure i can't be the only one who doesn't just want the happy recovery stuff, so i have decided to break a few of those unwritten rules: this is the life of one of those people in the awful system, exactly how a happy teen can becomes a shell of a person, and full encounters with those not so nice owners. Therefore there is explicit themes throughout, as well as manipulation, violence and pretty much everything dark. 
I also not a huge fan of when the events you want to hear about are a "fuzzy memory", so almost everything is in all it's gory detail - the only things 'skipped' are those bits that are boring and don't move the plot along (or if im feeling too lazy to write it as i want to move the story on, which does start happening a bit in later chapters in order to pick up the pace when needed). This is why there are severe warnings on this fic, and when i say it is dark and keep repeating the warning, i do mean it! 
It is intended to be something daring and different, but if this makes you uncomfortable feel free to stop reading at any time, I won't be insulted! Remember, fan fics are for your enjoyment so if you don't enjoy them, read something else. You haven't got to pay to read so you haven't got to worry about not getting your money's worth! If you feel like leaving a hateful comment, please ask yourself "should you have read this much if you arent enjoying it". 

 

One part of the AU i couldnt really write into the story is about Blaine (and the other subs). in my AU he doesnt have a full grown beard within a day of not shaving (like darren criss would have). hair does grow, but only slowly. i have worked this in later on in the fic when i noticed my plot fault, but just take it with a pinch of salt at the beginning. 

 

Tags will be updated as i go along as more things get added, so please keep checking for changes, especially if there are things that trigger you! anything is possible within this story, and therefore This whole fic is very triggering!!!!!!! And it doesn't really get better as it goes along. so if anything in the tags might trigger you, proceed with extreme caution. if you are worried about any triggers, please feel free to either leave a comment or message me on my tumblr (same username) and ask, and i will get back asap and let you know if i think it will be safe, think you should avoid, or point out any parts to skip. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable unnecessarily. There will be extreme non-con throughout, developing into Stockholm syndrome. It will not be a 'lives happily ever after' ending, but it does get better. eventually. (maybe? i havent really decided yet, and even if i have i would probably keep changing my mind). If you feel there is a tag im missing, please let me know. there is a lot of stuff that happens so i could easily miss one out by mistake! also, if you think there are tags that shouldnt be there please let me know, as i am also warry of overtagging.

If you have any concerns, please ask! I promise i don't bite... well, unless you are into it and is consensual ;) 

 

As for the character death warning, this is not a tag you should ignore. There will be original and cannon character deaths, and are (if my writing is good enough) upsetting. some chapters with what i consider 'major trigger warnings' are notified in the summary/note of that chapter, and then expanded upon in the end note incase you feel it may be a trigger, without spoiling it for other readers. 

There are two major deaths at this point in time, but there may be more, as well as some implied casualties. its /that/ type of fic.


There will be reference to finn's death. This will be towards the end (which is looking like 100 ish chapters). i have spent quite a lot of time deciding on this, and spoke to several people about it, so hopefully the way i do it will be ok and not disrespectful to either finn or cory. However if you anticipate this to be an issue, fear not, hopefully it will manage to be delicate with it. If you are still concerned, please message me! This is probably the only trigger warning that should not be too serve, and can be avoided when reading.

 

Updates:

I dont have anything written in advance, so the frequency of updates depends on how busy my real life is, or how much i am procrastinating or suffering with writers block. at the moment i am aiming to complete this fic by christmas 2019, but if i cant meet this deadline i will post the remaining plot as a compromise for abandoning it. 

i currently aim to post a chapter a week, but this is a really rough aim and sometimes its more, sometimes less. but i am still about!

 

There was originally a plan for a sequel, however due to my impending deadline i dont think this will be written. therefore i am currently leaning towards a three chapter epilogue which will complete the story and cover (albeit quickly) what was meant to be in the sequel. my second idea is to do a q&a chapter/story, which will again cover what would have happened in the sequel. 

 

There is also a plan to re-write this as on original work once its complete, although there is a very high chance this wont happen now. but keep an eye out for it. There may also be a sequel (as mentioned above), and there should be one shots from different POV's to come. 

 

I appreciate any feedback and try to come up with a response to everything you guys are kind enough to write. although i do not like hate, i would love any constructive criticism! 
I have been lucky so far and not received any hate for this fic (I would like to think that its because people who would leave hate have read this and thought better off it, but its more likely ive just been lucky). However if you do leave hate, or complain about something that has been warned for, unless i am in a good mood or its 'constructive' hate as such, i will simply delete the comment.
just because im lucky that it hasn't happened yet, doesn't mean im naive enough to think it wont. I've seen some horrible comments on fics half as dark as this.  

 the quality of writing does improve throughout the fic (I hope), so please don't let that put you off at the start! It's beta read from about chapter 17 ish (until chapter 40ish, as priority became just posting chapters and completing the fic), and I start getting a hang of my writing style and what does/doesn't work for me. I'm almost embarrassed by some of the sentences at the start! I do plan on editing the start and making it better, but my main goal is to finish the fic. Since starting the fic I've got a years worth of writing experience under my belt, so hopefully the improvement shows!

I am british, however have decided to write this in american english, so i apologize for any errors. i dont mean to offend anyone, but my only USA knowledge is through TV, so there may be some stereotypical assumptions. If this happens please correct me! I also apologise for any inconsistency in writing because of this. This seemed a good idea when i started, but im not quite so sure. 

 

it is correct to assume other than the parts of the AU explicitly stated, most of society functions as it does today. People not involved directly with the submissive slavery know it happens, and some wish they had enough money to be involved, but other than that they turn a blind eye to it all. They dont look twice when they see a sub walking down the street, people see it no different than someone walking down the street holding their phone or walking their dog.

I also want to point out that in my au kurt is younger than blaine (i was originally going to have blaine being a year older, as was implied in season two, but then i didnt think my timings through properly. so kurt is at least a year and a bit younger than blaine, possibly 2/3 years younger). 

 

I'm an evil writer, and I'm not a fan of the predictable happy ending, so warnings for evil twists and turns throughout. hopefully you will not be able to tell what will happen next, while it not being completely out of the blue. this will not be a happy ending for everyone.

 

The charaters belong to glee, but the ideas belong to me.

 

To repeat what i have said at the begining to make sure it is clear: I DO NOT AGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS DURING THIS FIC. RAPE CAN NOT BE EXCUSED. YOU SHOULD NOT TREAT PEOPLE AS LESS THAN YOU (unless you are with consensual participants of TPE etc) Read it for your enjoyment, the morals of these people in this AU are different to real life, and doesn't mean they are right. 

 

Now i've got all the scary, strict, and serious parts out of the way that i wanted to ramble on about, please continue to the story and hopefully enjoy!

(if you do, please review and leave a kudos!!! and if you don't like it, please still review and leave a kudos hehehe :D ) And honestly, you aren't 'annoying' if you comment on every chapter, you arent 'wasting my time' if all your comment contains is 'liked this chapter' or "This is an extra kudos". Although i can see how many hits the fic has, i dont know how many people have just clicked on the link then clicked back out. and although i can see the kudos going up, i dont know if these people keep coming back for each chapter update. Your comments let me know that people are still interested in reading, and they are what keep me motivated to continue writing. you would be surprised how giddy and excited i become every time i get an email alerting me of a new comment! (picture kurt buying blaine the puppy he's been begging for... I have the same reaction to every comment as blaine would to the puppy)

Chapter Text

(Image thanks to comewhatmay2! check out her drawings on tumblr!)

 

16th birthdays were not celebrated like the rest. Instead every boy and girl dreads the day, their first visit to the OSO – the Organisation of Submissive Ownership.

The human race was split into two parts, one of which were the ‘ordinary’ people (called doms), who spent their days much as you would expect. They went to work, they had relationships, and they were free to do pretty much as they pleased within the law. Exactly how humans have lived for as long as there has been humans.

Then there were the slaves, known as subs. It could be argued that they had the same lifestyle as the doms. They worked, they had sexual contact, and they had a law to follow. But for subs, it was very different circumstances. These people were treated worse than animals – at least animals had people campaigning for fair treatment. Subs however were deemed unworthy of basic human rights, and the number of people who don’t agree with this treatment could be counted on one hand. Subs were not considered human, they were slaves. They didn’t get a choice in what jobs they did or who they had sex with. As far as doms were concerned, subs were emotionless shells there to do their dirty work. They didn’t deserve luxuries like rest when they were tired, they didn’t deserve ample food to fight starvation, and most importantly they didn’t deserve free choice. They were slaves.

This might lead any normal person to the assumption that the subs deserved this treatment, that each one was some kind of criminal. Or perhaps they had a different genetic makeup to that of doms, something in their DNA that separated the two halves of the human race. This was not the case.

On a child’s 16th birthday, they had an appointment at an OSO office. They could be required to travel incredible distances to attend their appointment, as once it was booked at the age of 3 in their closest OSO office, it could not be changed. There was of course the option of simply not attending the appointment, but in doing so that person had to go on the run. People who failed to attend their appointments were instantly labelled as a sub. No one wanted to be a sub.

The appointment would be used to judge someone’s personality, the only deciding factor between being a sub or a dom. It was decided on a points based system. If someone collected over 50 points at their meeting they wouldn’t be going home, instead they would put into holding until the end of the month before being delivered to the sub house with every other 16 year old labelled within said month. If the OSO didn’t take subs into holding instantly, there wouldn’t be anyone to take to the sub house – most people preferring death to life as a sub. If someone was to score between 40 and 50 points, they would have to return in 6 months’ time to be retested, where on their second attempt scoring above 40 would send them to the sub house. The only way to ensure safety was to score below 40 on the first or second attempt. A score below this would mean being labelled as a dom, and freedom to continue their life as though nothing had happened.

Although this sounds very scary, in reality most people knew how to guarantee a low score, so holdings and retesting were rare. Around 0.1% of people scored above 40 points, and very few of those were labelled a sub – around ten out of the ten million tested every month!

Unfortunately for Blaine Devon Anderson, he had a knack for being one in a million.

Chapter Text

Blaine is harshly thrown into a cell after being dragged the short distance from the appointment room by muscled security guards. He loses his balance and falls flat on the concrete, his hands cuffed behind him preventing any way of cushioning his fall. The door was slammed shut before he even hits the ground. He’s no longer human, who cares if rough treatment causes him injury? No one other than himself he suspects.

He rolls onto his side and brings his knees up to his chest, before fidgeting so he is sat upright. He doesn’t make any attempt to stand – there is nowhere to sit other than the floor anyway. He shuffles backwards a few feet so his back is against the wall, and leans against it. It’s not the most comfortable position, but it’s the best he can do in this situation. He examines the holding cell, his home from July the 23rd until the end of the month. Opposite to the door, there is a thin blue mat, much like those used in gym class at schools across the country. Only this one seems in a worse state than all those he has seen before, almost all the padding has disintegrated and has a lot of questionable stains covering the surface. It is not very long, Blaine recons that even with his mere height he wouldn’t be able to lay stretched out on it. Not that the idea of going near it is at all appealing at this current time. Above the mat there is a tiny open window; Blaine approximates it to be 6 inches high and 12 inches wide, its only purpose to let in a small amount of fresh air to stop the room from smelling foul. Above the window and the door are two security cameras, giving him no privacy. He is sure there will be someone watching him around the clock for his first few days. There is a light on the ceiling, protected by a clear plastic dome resulting in no access to the light itself. Of course, there is no light switch in the 5 foot by 7 foot room. He chuckles, realising that his home for the next week is smaller than his closet at his parents.

Thoughts of his old home bring him to wonder if they know he is a sub yet. His Dad is likely still sat in the car, having not been allowed in the building, probably not yet even wondering why he isn’t out. Eventually, after sitting there for another 3 hours, he will realise Blaine isn’t coming back, so will turn the car around and drive home, with only the assumption that Blaine has been took. The OSO didn’t tell parents when a child is marked a sub, they were just left wondering.

When Blaine had arrived at the large OSO office he stayed sat in the car. He had already said his goodbyes to his Mom, who opted to stay at home. He had a pretty good idea that he wouldn’t be coming back out, even with knowing how to fake the test he was sure he wouldn’t manage to pull it off. Although of course he was still going to try to pass. He turned to his Dad.

“Whatever happens son, your Mom and I will always love you. Remember, I will wait for plenty of time, if you run late I will still be sat here for you when you walk out that building as a hum. Keep your head held high and don’t let them push you around and you will be fine.” His Dads eyes are filled with tears. They both know the most likely outcome of this visit, but neither are willing to acknowledge it. They both look at the clock in sync, running short of time. “I love you so much.” His Dad holds open his arms and Blaine falls into them, also silently crying.

“I love you too Dad. So much. I love you and Mom and I will never forget that.” With that he steps out of the car, taking nothing but his birth certificate, his school ID card and the clothes on his back. He isn’t allowed to take anything else. He walks towards the entrance doors without looking back, wanting to leave his Dad with those 3 sentences, and not sure how put together he will be if he looks back again. 


 He realises now that his first point was from turning up crying. Everyone knows you are being watched and tested before you even meet an OSO officer.


He approaches the desk and hands his birth certificate over. The lady at the desk smiles at him before pressing some buttons on the computer, Blaine assumes to check that it is the correct certificate.

“Have you got your school card as well please Blaine?” She asks politely. He fumbles getting it out of his pocket, but eventually composes himself enough to pass it over. “Thanks sweetie.” And goes back to keying in more information. “Everything’s fine, if you would like to take a seat love, someone will call you when they are ready.”

Blaine smiles and heads to a seat away from the 4 other people also waiting, sitting on the edge of a chair. He assumes the 23rd of July isn’t a very popular birthday, as on average there are at least 10 people constantly in a waiting room at one of the 12 OSO offices, with people leaving and new people entering every 10 minutes. He fidgets in his chair, nervously looking around. The others are all reading a magazine from the collection on the coffee table, but Blaine doesn’t want to take one.


 He expects the fumbling earned him one point, and not relaxing into the chair combined with not reading a magazine earned him 3 points. 5 points before he even was called into a testing room!


“Blaine Devon Anderson, please.” A lady calls, and Blaine instantly rises to greet her. She is wearing a tracksuit like all the test administrators do, and has very short blonde/white hair. “Hello Blaine, I’m Sue Sylvester and I will be in charge of your test today. If you would like to go to room two I will be there shortly.”

“Yes ma’am.” He replies politely. He heads down the long corridor until he sees the door with a two on. Shyly he opens it, but as expected there was no one in there. Instead there is lots of equipment, things he has no idea what for. He spots a desk with two chairs, like in a doctor’s surgery, and takes the seat furthest from the computer. He’s tempted to look at what’s on the screen, but he sees a camera angled in his direction so discards that idea.


In retrospect, Blaine thinks he should have looked at the computer. Responding instantly, addressing the lady formally, and then doing exactly as he was told would have earned him a further 5 points.


He hears the door open, but doesn’t turn to look until the lady is almost beside him. She gives him a funny look, causing him to drop his gaze guiltily, although he isn’t sure what he is guilty of. She sits in the other seat before speaking.

“So Blaine, first of all I just have a few security questions for you to answer. Who do you live with?”

“My Mom and Dad.” He responds. His brother moved out last year, but he doesn’t volunteer the information, only answering what he is asked.

“What about any siblings or pets?” She asks, prompting him to elaborate.

“My brother moved out last year. I haven’t ever had a pet.”

“What’s your brother’s name?” Blaine doesn’t know why she wants to know so much detail, surely security questions are meant to be short and to the point?

“Cooper Ma’am.” Sue smiles at this response, Blaine assumes it’s because she liked being addressed formally. He hadn’t been told what to call her, but he becomes more relaxed now he knows she appears to prefer the formal title.

“Thank you Blaine. I’ve now got a paper test for you to answer. Don’t worry about it, it’s just basic Math and English questions so we can get a rough idea of your academic level. I will leave the room so you can do it in private. Take as long as you like, and press this button on the wall once you are done.” She says pointing to a blue switch. Sue gets up and leaves after placing a pen and two sheets of paper in front of him.

Blaine looks at the paper on the desk, and the small nerves that had been growing subside. The first question is ‘If you spend $9.48 in a shop, and hand over a $10 note, how much change do you expect to be returned?’ He whizzes through all 20 questions, and presses the button as soon as he is done.


The dropping of his gaze. The short answers. The formal title. The correct test answers. The quick call back. That earned him another 15 points. Blaine realises his test was so short because he had already earned half the needed points within the first 5 minutes. There was no way he was going to make it safely to the end of the two hour test.


The lady comes back into the room and marks his test. Blaine knows he got everything correct; he didn’t have a private education scholarship for no reason.

“That’s all very good Blaine. You only got one wrong!” One? How could he get one wrong? “I’m afraid you spelt the word shopping with two p’s rather than one.” It should be two p’s, Blaine knows that. “It should be s-h-o-p-i-n-g.” The lady pauses and looks up at Blaine. He knows she is wrong, but doesn’t want to argue with the one woman who could take away his humanity.


He should have argued. Why didn’t he argue? He remembers now that on every site he went on to research the test, they told him to argue. That the assessor would claim one thing on the test to be wrong, even though it wasn’t, and if you didn’t argue that in fact you were correct, they would double the points you had already earned. For most people, they still would have been below the 50 point limit. Blaine is even rarer than one in a million. He starts shaking, trying to hold back the tears.


“You still scored very well though, so that’s all fine.” Blaine believed the lady. “If you would please follow me, we just have a quick physical test before we move onto the next stage. We wouldn’t want to make you do something detrimental to your health.” The lady was walking in front of him, so Blaine didn’t realise the sarcasm dripping from that sentence.

As they left room two, a guard started following behind them, obviously going in the same direction. He had only been here for a small fraction of the test, so Blaine knew he wasn’t there for him. Was he? They walked down several corridors, Blaine getting lost and disorientated in the process.

They enter a second room, this one a lot smaller, with a dentist chair set up in the middle. The guard doesn’t follow them in, so Blaine assumes he had continued on his way.

“If you would like to take a seat Blaine, I just need to take a quick blood test before we head out to the gym.” Blaine sits down warily, unsure of why they need a blood test. DNA had nothing to do with subs and doms. And nowhere online had said anything about blood tests or gyms, everyone just did different activities within the first room.

Unless… The only people who got blood tests didn’t reappear.

Although he was expecting to be labelled a sub, the moment still shocks him. He shoots out the chair and heads to the door. The lady hears the commotion but doesn’t turn around, seeming to have expected this outcome.

“Oh, come on boy. Behave. What did you expect? Sit back in this chair or I will get Puck out there to come in and knock you out. You will always have two options. You behave and do as you are told, or you misbehave and get punished. In this case, punishment means a fist to your head.”

Blaine freezes, his hand on the door knob. Clearly, if he opens the door the guard from earlier will be ready for him. He slowly turns around. The polite expression on the ladies face had been replaced with a look scary enough to make him want to fall to his knees. He does.

“Good boy. Now on the chair.” He rises to his feet and moves to the chair, although his legs feel as heavy as led. Before he is fully laid down he has a needle in his arm. He tilts his head to the ceiling and shuts his eyes, trying to organise his brain and come up with a plan. He knew this would happen, so why does he feel so unprepared and shocked?

The needle is yanked out of his arm, and Puck enters. Blaine stands up, not really sure what to do. Puck grabs his arm before walking behind him and putting on a cuff. His other arm is grabbed and both hands are locked behind his back. He doesn’t bother to fight it.

“Good boy.” Puck says. Blaine hates the praise, but doesn’t react. “You are a very quick learner. Lets go.”

As they leave the room, another guard joins them and holds onto Blaine’s other arm. As if he was going to get past the first guard anyway! He has no idea where the guards lead him, but eventually he was thrown into a cell.

His thoughts bring him in a full circle.

Chapter Text

Blaine doesn’t really know how long he has been in the cell. His appointment was at 11am, and from the orange tinge of sunlight coming through the window he gathers it must be almost sunset, so he estimates around 10 hours. No one has come to see him or remove his cuffs, and he hasn’t heard anyone walking past. He knows his Dad will definitely know he is a sub by now, his Mom as well. He wonders if they have told Cooper yet, or if any of his friends have found out. He doubts his parents will tell his friends, and he has always kept his birthday secret so they won’t even be wondering yet.

Around 3 hours ago he moved himself onto the mat, deciding on it being more comfortable than the solid ground. Apart from that he has just sat still, not wanting to give the people watching him anything to observe. He was just starting to wonder if he would be expected to urinate on the floor when he hears foot steps outside. He opens his eyes and looks up, ready to glare down the person who opens the door.

Of course it is Sue, flanked by Puck and the other guard. She stood staring back, seemingly deep into Blaine’s soul, before Blaine dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Wow, good boy. Seems like you were born for this.” Blaine can hear the smirk in her voice. “First rule to learn today hobbit, never hold eye contact with a superior. Second rule you need to learn, do as you are told as soon as you are told. Up you get, we are going on a little adventure.” Blaine stays sat down, although not looking at anyone. He decided in his long time alone that he wasn’t going to come easily. He knew he wouldn’t have a choice, but he could at least make everyone else’s life a little harder as well, it was the only fun he could have left.

“Fuck this.” Puck booms. He walks over and grabs Blaine by the elbow, yanking him up. “Come on.” He commands as Blaine is pulled out of the room. This time the second guard doesn’t grab him as well, instead he just follows behind.

After going down a maze of corridors, disorientating Blaine even more than he was before, they enter a room. Blaine takes a moment to look around before the smell reaches his nose and the panic sets in. This is a branding room. He starts fighting Puck.

“No. Please, no! You don’t have to do this! I could, I could, wear a collar with my number on? You don’t need to brand me, I won’t run away!” He shouts.

“That may be so, but you still need to be branded. You will get a collar as well anyway; I hear they make great fashion accessories.” Puck says nonchalantly.

“Puck, it’s the subs that are the accessories.” The other guard spits at Blaine, sending a shiver down his spine. Rough hands grab his foot. He tries to kick out but the guard has too tight of a hold, causing him to lose his balance and fall further into pucks grip. His shoe is yanked of, quickly followed by his sock. “Other foot.” The guard says, and Blaine allows him to take the other shoe and sock, leaving him bare foot. The lack of such simple items makes him feel so much more vulnerable against the two solid built males. The hands reach up and pull his pants and underwear down and off in one go, Puck having suspended him in the air for the removal. He feels a great desire to cover himself, but with his hands behind his back there is little he can do.

“Please. Please can’t I stay clothed?” He whines.

“There is a very small chance you will be allowed clothes as a sub, you may as well get used to it now.” Puck says as the other guard crosses to the far side of the room, picking up something off a counter. When he turns back Blaine sees he is holding scissors. He whimpers.

“Wh… what are they for?” He asks worriedly.

“Calm down twink, just to take your top off. You didn’t think we would uncuff you for that did ya?” Puck replies. A day ago that comment would have made Blaine incredibly concerned, but considering the ideas he had in his head, instead it calmed him.

The other guard approached him and pulled Blaine’s shirt over his head. He heard the cutting of fabric, clearly to remove the shirt from the loop of his arms created by the cuffs. Finally he was stood completely naked, one guard throwing away his clothes, and the other one holding him in front of Sue Sylvester for inspection.

“Well, what have we got here?” She sneers while circling him. Sue completes a full turn before stopping once again in front of Blaine. “Looks like you will make a great little whore for us all. Let’s get you strapped up.” She motions for Puck to place Blaine against the table.

He doesn’t get laid down, instead the other guard straps his legs in cuffs on the floor, forcing his legs apart and removing any modesty he had managed to maintain. And just to increase his embarrassment, he feels himself starting to get hard. He leans his weight forwards into the table, trying to let it go unnoticed. He isn’t that lucky.

“Oh, what have we got here then Blaine? Is my little hobbit getting hard? I told you that you would be a great whore. For this time only, if you piss yourself or cum it will be ignored. Just so you know, after today anything that spills from you has to get licked up by you. Don’t ever forget that goblin.”

Once Sue finishes talking, he is pushed forwards so he is forced face first into the table, luckily hiding his blushing. Several straps are placed across his back and tightened, restricting most his movement. Some form of a round object is placed into his mouth, both to work as a gag and as something to bite into during the pain. Hands then seem to be covering him - although he knows there are only four- holding him immobile. He feels a wet cloth being rubbed on his neck and upper back, obviously a disinfectant before the brand.

“Ok Blaine, as you have been relatively well behaved, I will talk you through exactly what is happening. I’m currently heating up the branding iron with the slave symbol. I’m sure you know what it is, but in case you don’t; it’s a ring about the size of your palm, with a diamond exactly central containing the letter S, and an O either side of the diamond, so it reads OSO. This will be placed in the gap between your shoulder blades. What I’m going to do first while the iron heats up is tattoo your ID number. The first digits will be 230716, which of course stands for your birthdate. Then following a dash will be the numbers 5226, which are just four randomly generated numbers, and you will be expected to remember them as an addition to your birthday. On all legal documents you will be referred to by this ID number. Essentially you are no longer Blaine, you are 230716-5226. But some people may wish for your true name still.

“Ok. I’m going to start tattooing across your neck, above where the branding will go, the stiller you stay the less painful it will be.” Even though Blaine doesn’t move, it is still incredibly painful. Although he wishes someone would tell his cock that, as it seems to be enjoying it. A strange mix of arousal while bursting for the toliet. He knows something is going to be involuntarily spraying out of his dick before the night is over. He feels Sue tattooing the final six before he realises, seeming to have managed to ignore the pain more than he expected.

“Good boy. That’s all done now.” Blaine feels another tissue being wiped across his back, clearing away any blood and excess ink. “Now for the worse bit, I wouldn’t be surprised if you black out. In hindsight we should knock you out for this; however it’s too complicated to bother working out the correct amount of the drug when we can let the subs bodies do the hard work for us. I’m now checking the temperature of the iron, as we don’t want to run the risk of a poor branding. As much as subs are one of the most expensive items, if you have a smudged branding you will be disposed of. Yes Blaine, that means killed, so I suggest you try to help me and stay still. As soon as subs have permanent damage they become worthless. Remember that if you feel like misbehaving.” As much as many people would prefer death, Blaine isn’t one of those people. “Ok, the iron is hot enough. Are you ready? It’s tough if not.”

And with that Blaine feels the piercing heat on his upper back, as promised just below the tattoo. The last thing he remembers before passing out is a huge release in his abdomen, both cum and urine spilling out.

Chapter Text

Blaine wakes up back in his cell on the mat, naked but uncuffed. There was also a light blanket draped over him, making him feel much less exposed than last night. He feels a bit light headed and sore, but surprisingly not as bad as he was expecting. He reaches the back of his neck and feels a large wad of gauze stuck on with some kind of tape. He presses lightly, and a wave of dizziness takes over, making him pause to catch his breath. Of course it would hurt, how much of an idiot was he to press it?

After the room stops spinning, he removes the blanket and takes a moment to assess any other damage. His knees have huge grazes from when he was pushed into his cell after the appointment, and he expects his face does as well. Although his knees look like they will heal fairly quickly, so he isn’t worried about them. His hair is a mess, with day old hair gel having been tussled in his sleep. One of the major things he will miss will be his hair gel, but maybe it will be a good change. He doubts its worth this great of a sacrifice for such a small change though.

His biggest concern however is his need to urinate again! Surveying the light coming into the room, he estimates it to be about midday, and although he hasn’t had anything to drink he is still bursting having not gone for 12 hours. He crosses his legs and looks meaningfully at the camera, hoping there is someone watching who will understand the message and send aid.

Within about 10 minutes, Puck turns up.

“Come on 5226, let’s take you to the washroom and get you sorted out.” Puck waits with his hand outstretched, clearly to grab onto Blaine’s arm but making no move to be forceful like previously. If anything, he sounds fed up. Blaine gets up and walks over, slightly embarrassed after remembering what happened last night. Puck gently takes his arm before leading Blaine out of the cell.

“Can I ask a question, umm… Sir?” Blaine cautiously asks.

“Well, I suppose we are just meant to hold subs to the end of the month, not teach ‘em. Yer, go on, you can. Although I don’t promise to answer.” Puck definitely sounds fed up.

“Are… are you ok? Sir. You sound tired.”

“Humf. I guess I am. I’m in charge of you and the other sub here, but 9103 is driving me crazy. He won’t do as he is told, he keeps fighting, and just generally being a nuisance. Which in fairness they normally do. But we have had him here since the 1st, and he has only got worse over time rather than better. Half of me can’t wait until he goes, but the other half of me doesn’t want him to, as everyone knows what happens to subs that don’t cooperate. And the thought that I am part of the process that will lead him to being put down is something I can’t think about. I hate this job and everything it entails, but I’m meant to act as though I can’t stand you lot. And that’s how I put up with it normally, by pretending the people sent here aren’t people. I objectify you like everyone else does to make my life easier. I’m not against the slavery of subs completely, but I really don’t agree with the treatment you are subjected to.”

“If you don’t like it, why do you do it? Sir.” He hastens to add the title, not wanting to cause Puck to do something he hates, namely punishment.

“I need the money. It pays the bills and pays for my child. And there aren’t many jobs that allow people with a criminal record to work, especially not one as well paid as this.” Puck smiles. “Anyway, you really can’t tell anyone any of this. I will get the sack no doubt, and you would probably face some kind of punishment for some stupid reason. Sorry about that, dude. I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”

“I promise I won’t tell, and I’m sorry I can’t help you.” Puck pauses at that and looks at Blaine.

“See, you seem like such a decent lad. And you are still being so kind towards me even though half of what you have suffered already is because of me. I don’t deserve it. If it wasn’t for this stupid situation, I would probably ask if you wanted to hang out, try out for the football team I’m in.” Puck sighs before pulling out a key and unlocking the door they had stopped by.

“That’s alright, I don’t enjoy playing football, I would much rather be boxing.” Puck chuckles and shakes his head.

“Come on, I’m surprised you haven’t wet yourself on the walk over.”

“Oh thanks, Sir.” Blaine says playfully, “I had managed to push the thought to the back of my mind until you brought it up again!” This causes another chuckle from Puck.

The room they walk into is for all intents and purposes was a large bathroom. There are two toilets at one side of the room, with a sink in the middle, and three showers opposite, with a counter along the far wall between the two sides. The thing that takes Blaine attention most (after the strange, seemingly unusual ratio of appliances), is that there are no stall doors or partitions, allowing no privacy. Although he has already been paraded down several corridors fully naked, so it’s not as though there is anything left to hide.

Puck let’s go of Blaine’s arm, so the first thing he does is rushes to the toilet. He feels so much better once he has gone, even if he did experience a bit of shyness having to go in front of Puck. He washes his hands before looking at Puck, who had been stood barricading the door, which had been shut but left unlocked. He still doesn’t make eye contact though, despite the feelings Puck had just shared.

“Do you need to do anything else?” Puck hints. Blaine shakes his head. “Ok, come over to the counter with me and I will take the gauze off before having a shower.” They walk over and Puck starts pulling various bits and bobs out of the cupboards below. He pulls on a pair of disposable gloves before turning Blaine around. Without comment he removes the gauze and bins it. He then starts inspecting the brand, carefully prodding the skin around it trying not to cause unnecessary pain. Blaine flinches when Puck touches a bit to close. “Sorry dude. I just have to make sure it’s all healing and isn’t infected. It all seems ok. A lot darker than they normally are, but I think the iron was hotter than normal, which is a good thing. It looks like it will come out very clear, good news as it means you are worth more.” Blaine wonders if Puck means it is good news for Blaine, or if it’s only good news for the OSO, but he doesn’t ask as he’s unsure he wants to know the answer. “I would expect you to be the most expensive sub at auction for your month, if not for several months.” Blaine thinks Puck intends it as praise, but instead it just reminds him that in a years’ time he will be somebodies play toy, something they can fuck and then force to do work. And that’s assuming he survives the years training at the sub house – a surprising amount don’t.

Puck walks over to the central shower and pulls the shower head off the wall before twisting the dials to bring it up to the correct temperature, strangely keeping the gloves on.

“Come on over. Make the most of the hot water, the sub house rarely allows it, only as a reward.” Blaine internally cringes at the thought. He was starting to enjoy Pucks company, and then he will say something like this, which reminds him of his limited time left as a human. But Puck is his only ally, and he really wants a shower, so he heads over to Puck who angles the water spray in his direction. Once he is happy that Blaine has been covered in water, he hangs the shower head up, causing Blaine to be just outside of the spray. Puck then squirts a bit of shower gel from the shelf into his hands.

“Um, Puck, my back doesn’t hurt that much… I, umm, I could wash myself.” Blaine says, not really wanting Puck to touch him.

“Firstly, I’m sure your back does hurt enough that you wouldn’t be able to reach everywhere, although I’m sure that wouldn’t stop you trying. However, it’s part of my job, the rules.” Puck says, sounding as though he would rather it wasn’t the case.

“I thought us subs were meant to do everything for everyone else, not have others do stuff for us.” Blaine says, prompting an answer to a question he is too afraid to ask.

“That’s true. But they believe that if you are forced to lose some of your independence during holding you will be more susceptible to commands during training. It’s manipulation at its simplest.” Blaine thinks Puck doesn’t agree with it, but as he explained earlier, he will do it because he needs the money.

He lets Puck start to massage the shower gel into his skin, starting with his left arm then his right. Puck goes down his front, skipping over the area normally covered with his boxers, going down to his feet before working his way back up behind Blaine (skipping the same area). He also skips the fresh brand, Blaine grateful that the soapy liquid is kept away from the raw skin.

“I’m sorry again, but I’m going to have to ask you to lean forwards slightly so I can clean everywhere.” Blaine gets the gist, and even though every part of him is against it, he turns round and leans forwards, bracing himself against the wall. He also decided to spread his legs slightly, hating himself for doing it but knowing staying on Pucks good side was more important than his already lost modesty. “Thanks.”

Puck quickly gets to work, not breaching his virgin hole but seemingly covering every other inch of skin.

“And the other side as well please.” Puck says. Blaine turns a quarter circle so he is facing Puck. Instantly Pucks hands go to his hips and continues rubbing in the gel. The first instant the hands touch his cock, Blaine’s breath hitches. The only thing that could make it more embarrassing happens. Blaine’s dick starts growing. He looks up at Puck in panic, unsure of what to do or say to make the situation less embarrassing. Puck speaks first once he notices Blaine’s embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about it; it happens all the time with you gay subs.”

“How… What makes you think I’m gay?” Blaine stutters.

“What? Are you not?” Puck says in panic.

“No, I am. I just didn’t think I emitted a ‘gay vibe’. Or so every gay guy I’ve had a crush on has told me!” Blaine chuckles.

“Oh.” The relief evident in Pucks face. “I don’t know, I just thought you were. Ok, I’ve done here. Do you want the water colder while I do your hair?”

“Please.” Puck adjusts the temperature, and Blaine steps half into the ice spray. He feels Pucks hands in his hair, washing out the old gel. Before long Puck is finished – Blaine is sure he hasn’t got all the hair gel out, but he doesn’t want to mention it – and Blaine’s hard on problem had shrunk. Puck walks back over to the counter, Blaine following behind once he was sure all the shower gel had been washed off. Puck pics up a towel and starts drying Blaine, gently dabbing and rubbing until he is no longer dripping wet, although not completely dry.

“I’m going to put some cream on your brand, and it will sting I’m afraid.” Blaine hears movement behind him before he feels the touch of Pucks fingers on his brand. He starts thinking maybe Puck had exaggerated, but then it all comes instantly. He leans on the counter for balance. Puck doesn’t say anything about his reaction; instead he continues applying the cream.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” Blaine chants. However Puck seemed to have finished anyway, and was taking his gloves off.

“Again, I am sorry I have to say this, but no swearing. Good news is, I’m not going to punish you for it, bad news is, normally you will be. So take it as a friendly warning.” Blaine sees Puck picking up a fresh piece of gauze before he feels the pressure of it over his mark. Puck quickly tapes it on before the pain of the cream mixed with the pressure causes Blaine to either vomit or pass out. “Come on then, time for your lunch. You will get to meet 9103 too.”

Puck leads the way out of the bathroom, without holding on to Blaine, trusting him to follow without attempting to run off.

Chapter Text

They enter another room Blaine is yet to have visited, Puck unlocking it before opening the door for him. This one holds a simple rectangular table, big enough to seat 6. There is another boy in there with his back to them, even more naked than Blaine since his brand is fully visible, having healed up enough already. This must be 9103. The boy turns to look at the new arrivals, and both the boy and Blaine freeze.

“Nick?” Blaine whispers.

“Blaine Devon Anderson! Oh my God it’s you. It’s fucking you! Oh shit, you’re this labelled sub shit as well.” Nick shouts.

“How many times? No swearing. No shouting.” Puck says looking pissed off.

“And what are you going to fucking do about it? Take away my freedom? Take away my clothes? Burn me against my will? Sorry to burst your bubble square head, but that’s already been done.” Nick spits, glaring at Puck.

“And no eye contact.” Puck mutters. “I hope you realise that at the sub house they will enforce these rules you don’t like.” Puck turns to Blaine. “See if you can talk some sense into this asshole. Especially since it appears you know each other.” He turns back to Nick. “I will give you some privacy. But I will be waiting at the door, and if I even suspect you are about to pull another runner, so help me god I will call Sue.” Blaine notices Nick shiver at the mention of Sue.

“Another runner?” Blaine askes.

“There has got to be some way out of here, so if I run fast enough, enough times, eventually I will be able to find it.” Nick says as though Blaine is stupid for not trying the same thing.

“Let’s sit down shall we?” Blaine notices that there is already food on the table. “We can eat and talk. It’s not as though standard manors matter anymore.” He says, indicating his lack of clothing.

“I’m not eating.” Nick states, but still sits down at the table.

“Why ever not?”

“Hunger strike.”

“Oh come off it Nick. I know you can be impulsive, but this is just silly. You are going to end up killing yourself!”

“So what if I do. At least I’m not going to be someone’s fuck toy for the rest of my life!” Nick crosses his arms in a pout. Blaine decides to change the subject to something he thinks is easier.

“How come you’re here? I thought you had already had your birthday?”

“Well, I had my birthday 6 months ago. I may have lied slightly when I said I had passed on the 1st of February. I scored 42 points. But I was so sure that when July came around I would pass, that I thought it would be safe to say I had passed first time. Then I would come back in July, pass it, and carry on my life as though nothing had happened. No one needed to know. Plus how many people fail on the second time round? I must be the only one I think. My parents even raised me to be a hum! They didn’t want me to suffer the life of a sub, so they tried everything to stop it. And it still didn’t work!” Nick says angrily.

“You do realise that being a sub isn’t down to DNA, but because of traits you are simply born with? Anyway, I’m interested to know, what does that make your ID?” Blaine asks, trying to continue a conversation, while changing the subject.

“010216-9103-6. The same format as yours, but with a 6 to show I was not labelled on my birthday. What a shitty way to spend a birthday, in this shit hole.”

“Language Nick.”

“Like it’s your birthday. You are finally old enough to drive. But what do you spend the day doing? Going to an appointment. And if you have an early appointment and fail, you have absolutely no time to celebrate, and before you know it, you have your humanity took away and a burning iron on the back of your neck. It’s not fair. And anyway Blaine, why do you care if I swear? If I remember correctly you are the worst for swearing at warbler practice.”

“Way to make a man feel good Nick.” Nick looks confused, so Blaine elaborates. “My appointment was at 11am on my birthday.”

“When was your birthday? You never told anyone.” Blaine glares at Nick, surely the boy wasn’t that naive. “Oh shit, it was yesterday?” Blaine nods his head.

“I knew I would be marked a sub, so I kind of expected it. Not to say I wasn’t still panicked when I was took to get my blood tested. And that’s why I never told anyone my birthday; I knew I would have to say goodbye if you all knew, and I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Better I just disappeared and let everyone find out once I was already gone. Which in a way is exactly as you have done, just I got my expected outcome and you didn’t. And to answer your question, I care about you swearing because I care about you. Yes you might not like this situation, but if you don’t follow the rules you won’t be around to see the small joys of life.”

“Are you crazy? There isn’t going to be any joys as a human fuck toy!”

“There may not be, however if you’re not around there is no way to find out is there?” Blaine asks.

“Fuck you and your inspirational crap.” Blaine doesn’t really know what to say to that, so instead he picks up the bottle on the table. He eyes it warily, not knowing what the substance inside is.

“I wouldn’t drink it.” Nick states. “It’s some kind of drugged water, meant to relax the subs to help the transition.” He says mockingly. Blaine purposely takes a huge gulp, both because he is famished, and wanting to prove a point to Nick.

“I’m not going to starve or dehydrate myself, not when I’m sure I will be forced to once we are moved to the sub house. So I’m going to enjoy the little things I’m given for the next week.” Blaine says, and starts eating from the bowl in front of him. He thinks its pea soup, but can’t be certain that’s what the mushy liquid is. He also has two pieces of wholegrain bread, Blaine’s least favourite type, but he dips it into the soup anyway. It was surprisingly better than he expected, although would have been better if it was warm.

Just as he finishes eating, Puck comes back in.

“You two have been very quiet; I would have thought you had a lot to talk about?” He says, staring mainly at the still pouting form of Nick. Neither of the boys say anything. Puck pulls out a pair of handcuffs and walks over to Nick, who gets up and doesn’t protest as his hands are locked behind him. Blaine expects Puck to cuff him as well, but instead Puck leads Nick to the door.

“Come on Blaine.” He says, realising Blaine hasn’t followed.

“Hold on a second. You are letting Blaine walk around uncuffed, just trusting him to follow, whereas you never take me anywhere without them. Even though I have been here much longer! And he is special enough to be allowed a name?” Nick demands.

“Yes, because Blaine isn’t an asshole.” Puck states as a matter of fact. Without checking Blaine is following, Puck leaves the room. Blaine does follow however, not wanting to get lost in the maze of corridors. Eventually they arrive at a cell Blaine doesn’t recognise. Puck pulls open the unlocked door and walks in with Nick, walking until he is face first against the far wall, standing on a mat almost identical to Blaine’s. Blaine decides to wait outside, instead watching.

“Ok, 9013. You know the drill, but I feel I should repeat myself so we are clear, since it hasn’t stuck yet. I uncuff a hand, you put it on the wall above your head. I uncuff the second hand, it joins its friend on the wall. They stay there until you hear the door lock. Got it?” Puck waits for a nod, but doesn’t get one. He sighs and uncuffs Nick as he explained. He pauses for a second, making sure it doesn’t appear as though Nick is going to try anything, then slowly turns around to make sure Blaine is still there while walking out. Turning round was his mistake though, as no sooner has he walked two steps, Nick had punched him round the back of his head. Part of Blaine is in awe at the move, wishing he’d had Nick on the Dalton fight team, the other half of him feels bad for Puck. Before he can really understand what was going on, Nick had ran out of the cell and past Blaine, not stopping.

“Shit.” Puck curses. “Blaine, if you don’t run off I will come up with a huge reward for you.” He starts chasing Nick down the hallway, cursing.

Blaine realises he has two options, to stay or to wonder. He decides to wonder down the corridor, far enough to have a nose but close enough Puck will still see him when he comes back.

The corridor he is in is one of the longest ones he has seen in the building so far. He walks down the far end, opposite to the direction Nick and Puck had run. On the same side of Nick’s cell were there are no other doors, just a long white wall. On the other side there is a door every few feet. 12 to be exact. He decides to have a look into the room marked 7. Opening the door he realises it is no larger than a school broom cupboard. However instead of mops and buckets, it is filled with boxes, each one with a year on. He locates the 2036 box, and discovers there are two. He decides to have a look through the second one as it doesn’t look to be as full, and he doubts he has long before Puck will return.

However once he pulls it off the shelf he sees something the makes him pause. Lying on top of the unlidded box is a picture of him. His school photo. He pushes it to the side and looks underneath. There are loads of documents about him, more than what he handed over yesterday. Someone must have done a lot of research into him in the last 26 hours or so. He sees a paper titled test report, and curiosity gets the better of him.

 

230716-5226. Previously Blaine Devon Anderson. Tested by S Sylvester, OSO area 4 manager.

Upon first impression it was clear 5226 was a sub. This was confirmed when the necessary points had been accumulated in 7 minutes. After a minor freak out he was subordinate, without any direction. Blood test shows no illnesses or infections. During the first 12 hours in the cell with no contact he appeared calm and relaxed, not fighting his cuffs or any attempts to escape. Branding was less smooth, and involved lots of begging, however he submitted to it quicker than most, resulting in the branding being unsmudged and clear, although waiting for picture confirmation after healing.

 

Blaine doesn’t know what to make of the report. Half of him is happy it makes him look well behaved, which will hopefully work in his favour, however the other half thinks it makes him sound weak willed. He hastily puts the box back and leaves the room. He notices Nick’s cell door is still open, so continues down the corridor in the direction he was going previously, assuming Puck hasn’t been back yet. When he reaches the end the corridor goes both left and right. Checking once more that Puck hasn’t returned, he goes left. Before long there is another corridor on the left. One he recognises. He sees room two, the room he entered as a hum and left as a sub. He knows if he runs, he could probably make it out the door before anyone caught up with him. But he knows he wouldn’t survive long, naked and with a sub mark. He starts walking forwards, still unsure that he is where he thinks he is. It seems strange that they would keep the sub that’s trying to run away, near the one place (that he knows of) that he can get out, but he supposes that normally the hardest things to find are those right under your nose. Before he reaches room two, the door opens. He freezes, knowing that no matter what he does he will be caught. Out from the room comes Sue, and another person he recognises. Jeff. They are talking to each other and smiling. Jeff notices Blaine stood watching, and pauses, trying to understand what his eyes are seeing. This causes Sue to look, and her expression to instantly change from friend to foe.

“You little shit.” She spits at Blaine before turning to address Jeff. “Jeffery, if you could be kind enough to show yourself out. You can pick up your documents from the desk on the way.” She turns back to Blaine and starts advancing on him.

“Jeff!” Blaine shouts, wanting to say something before it’s too late, but Sue is quickly approaching. “Nick is here as well. Tell everyone we are both sorry for not saying goodbye.” The last thing he remembers is Jeff opening his mouth in shock, before a swift kick to the stomach causes him to fall to the floor, passing out.


 

Blaine wakes to the sound of shouting, still on the floor in the corridor.

“Puck, you hurry up and get your arse here now.” Sue booms.

“Shit, what happened?” He hears from somewhere.

“You tell me. I had just finished an appointment, and here he is, standing in the corridor. Not only is this going to be headline in the news for a while, since someone saw him – who recognised him no less – and watched me knock him out, I need to know what caused him to be so close to making a run for it! Explain.”

“I was bringing them both back from lunch, and thought I would take 9103 back first, since he causes the most hassle. However as I was leaving his cell he spun around and hit me, before taking of in the other direction. I chased after him, telling 5226 to stay where he was, and obviously being incorrectly trusting.”

“So you thought; I know, I’m going to chase after the one who has run away from the exit and leave the other one unrestrained, to easily wonder off and run away. You should have shut him in the cell temporarily while you went for your jog!” Sue hisses. “You are so lucky I came out my room at the right time, otherwise you wouldn’t still be stood here with a job.”

“Jeff wouldn’t tell.” Blaine whispers, not really believing it but wanting to get Puck out of some trouble.

“Oh shut up faggot! I don’t want to hear anything from you.” For some reason that word gets to Blaine more than the other names Sue has used. He coils into himself. “Get him to his cell. I don’t want to see either of you for a while.” With that, Blaine hears Sue walking off.

Puck picks him up without saying anything, and carries him in a firemen’s lift through the maze to his cell.


 

The rest of the week followed a similar pattern, but much less uneventful. Puck would come late morning to take him to wash, going through the whole event without a word. The cream for the brand became less painful daily, until his 7th day in the centre (the 29th), where the gauze was left off for good. He was then taken straight to lunch on his own, with Puck silently in the room monitoring him. He assumed Nick and him where no longer allowed to see each other, because he was then led straight back to his cell and left until dusk, where Puck would lead him back to the toilet once again. Then the whole thing was repeated the next day. Until it wasn’t.

Chapter Text

Puck walks into Blaine’s cell, just like he had every other day. Blaine stands up and walks over to Puck, and Puck takes hold of his arm, before leading him to the wash room area. However, after finishing being washed – although still with the lack of a tooth brush, Blaine even able to smell the stench of his own breath – Puck leads him in a different direction, one he doesn’t think he has been in before. Blaine doesn’t ask why, ever since that second day where he ‘tried to run away’, every time either of them spoke to the other it was always kept minimal and impersonal, using Sir and 5226.

The corridor opens up at one side, looking like a large room on his left. The ‘room’ side is filled with tables, much like in a school canteen, while the area directly between the two halves of the corridor was left clear. Sat at the front few tables are 8 men in suits. They pause their conversations as Blaine is walked in, watching. Puck leads Blaine into the centre of the empty area, where there are a couple of piles of long chains. Puck stops walking as soon as one of the piles is just behind Blaine, and Blaine hears the rattle of chains as they are picked up. The end has a pair of cuffs, which Puck uses to immobilise Blaine’s hands behind his back. Looking down, Blaine notices that the chain is bolted to the floor, meaning there are no ways to escape, and no ways to hide any inch of his exposed skin from these strange men. Looking back up, he realises that most the men have gone back to their previous activities, only a few still looking at him.

He thinks back, counting how many days he has been at the centre. Today would be the 10th day, if he includes his birthday, making it the 1st of August. Blaine’s heart plummets, realising these must be the people from the sub house.

After approximately 10 minutes he hears a commotion to his right, and looks to see Puck walking back with a struggling Nick. Nick’s whole body seems to be covered in bruises in various stages of healing, and despite his attempts to get out of Puck’s grasp, he is clearly a lot worse than the last time Blaine saw him a week ago. Blaine also notices that Nick is walking with a definite limp. Nick is led to the chains next to Blaine, secured in the same way but with his other set of cuffs still on.

Once Puck had stepped back against the corridor wall, all conversations halted, as though there had been some auditable instruction, and one of the men stands up. Blaine watches him, and despite knowing his vulnerability he doesn’t drop eye contact. The man walks forwards until he is standing directly in front of Blaine. He appears in his mid-thirties and about 6 foot tall. Blaine has to look up to hold his gaze, however he ends up dropping his eyes after a few seconds, despite every conscious thought telling him not to give in to the man. Instead he grinds his teeth agitatedly.

“Oh no no no, we don’t want you ruining those teeth of yours.” The man says patronisingly, trailing his fingers down Blaine’s cheek in what he assumes is meant to be a comforting manor, but couldn’t be further from it. Blaine shuts his eyes, but stops his grinding. The man stops his hand under Blaine’s chin, pushing gently on the soft area to force Blaine’s head up. “Let me see your eyes.” He says in a seductive tone. Blaine reluctantly opens them, after another finger pushes the sensitive area. He notices the man has intriguing green eyes, and Blaine could imagine getting lost in them if it was a different situation. He quickly adverts his eyes. After what seems like forever, another man speaks up.

“Come on Hunter, we have a lot of distance to cover today.”

The man – Hunter – takes a few more seconds before removing his hand and stepping backwards to get a better view of him. Blaine wishes he could run and hide, but with the confirmation of a quick tug against the chain’s bolt, he knows he isn’t going anywhere. Instead he drops his head once again and slouches, in an attempt to make himself smaller, but keeps watching the man.

Hunter runs his eyes over Blaine’s body several times – taking extra time with his crotch – before walking behind him. Blaine didn’t like the man in front of him, but hates it even more with him behind. After a short time Blaine feels hands touching his brand, causing him to flinch.

“Jumpy little thing, aren’t you?” Hunter asks rhetorically. Hunter starts moving his hands, stretching the skin slightly and pulling it at odd angles, not enough that it would cause pain to undamaged skin, but causing Blaine to hiss at the contact on his still unhealed burn. “This is wonderfully done, don’t think I’ve seen a brand this clear for a while. Well done.” He says off to the side. Blaine doesn’t look, but assumes Sue has joined them at some point. “Ohh, I do like you. I’m going to have to keep an eye on you and save up, I need to replace my current personal sub but you may be even out of my price range. Although being head of the company may allow me to pull some strings.” A shiver runs down Blaine’s spine. He knows sub owners don’t tend to be the nicest of civilians, but this man just seems pure cruel. Luckily he chooses this moment to leave and examine Nick, allowing Blaine to attempt to close the door on all the horrible images floating round his head at the man’s words.

“I hear you have been a hassle, late bloomer.” The man snarls at Nick. Although Blaine is curious as to what the man is saying, he zones out, almost separating his mind from his body.

Blaine doesn’t know how long it is before he is snapped out of his daze by a loud voice.

“Right then sluts. Introductions. I’m your Master. You may call me Master. These people work at the sub house with me, you will address them all as Sir. Females are of cause Ma’am. The basic rules you need to know for now, before we reach the sub house: always address a superior as Sir or Ma’am unless told otherwise, don’t talk unless spoken to, and keep your head down at all times. Are we clear?” Blaine and Nick nod, their heads both down. Something about this man causes even Nick to obey. “Ok, let’s get you collared and get going, we have 4 other places to stop.”

Finally, the panic that he should have felt from the beginning kicks in. He starts frantically pulling at the chain, trying to get it to come loose. However he makes no progress. He finally understands what Nick was talking about when he was telling Puck that he had already had his free will taken. Yes, he had already been branded, but that experience had contained a confusing mix of emotions. The realisation that he would be expected to wear a collar like a dog, like a human fuck toy as Nick had put it, makes his stomach drop. Sure, he knew that subs wore collars, but he didn’t know.

He sees Hunter – Master – and one of the other men approaching with identical leers on their faces. Nick is already fighting another man, with Puck trying to restrain him. He looks back at Hunter – he won’t call him Master in his head, he won’t – who is holding a thick black collar, looking robust enough to withstand a lot of force – at least more force than can be used on a human neck. There are three large ring hoops, and a small one next to the locking system, all spaced evenly apart. A little silver metal tag is hanging off the small hoop. As Hunter approaches Blaine, he sees the tag at the right angle, allowing to him read the engraving:

Sub House

Of course, every slave has to wear a collar showing who owns them, and apparently the sub house is no different. Blaine hates the reminder that he no longer has ownership of his own body.

He takes a step back, running out of time and space before Hunter and his colleague reach him, however the chain doesn’t reach any further. He only managed that one step because of his height anyway. A hand grips his hair, and a second one placed on his upper back as a warning, just below the brand.

“Let’s be a good little toy, and do as we are told. Stand still, or I will allow John here to let his hand wonder.” Hunter says, as the hand on his back diverts to squeeze his arse. He squeals and jumps forwards, mistakenly towards Hunter.

“Oh good boy, so eager.” Hunter sneers as he slides the collar behind Blaine’s neck before he can react. The buckle is done up below Blaine’s adams apple, tighter than really necessary. He hears the lock engage, his neck truly to the mercy of Hunter. “If you behave it will get loosened at the sub house.” He says before walking away.

Blaine is uncuffed, and the chain is dropped, hitting the back of his right leg on the way down to the ground. His hands are clasped together by John, and he is pushed in the same direction Nick entered from. In front of him Nick is getting the same treatment, but with two guards instead of one, and most of the other men have come to surround them as they are led out. Hunter is the only one left behind, stood talking to Sue outside of Blaine’s hearing. When he passes Puck against the wall, he sees an expression of disgust mixed with sorrow on the guards face. Without looking at him, Puck turns and walks off, slightly slumped.

They walk out a door Blaine hasn’t seen before, leading into a small car park. Blaine looks around and sees that the area is fenced in. His plan of running was forgotten. Although even if it wasn’t, he doubts he could have made it far, and he would have very soon been identified by his collar – and nakedness.

Blaine is roughly thrown in the back of a large black van with the OSO logo on the side, following Nick inside. He lands on his stomach, luckily managing to avoid hitting his face this time since his hands where uncuffed, unlike on his birthday. He sees Nick struggling to get up, having still had his hands cuffed. He reaches over to help him as they are plunged into darkness with a loud bang.

 

Chapter Text

They travelled for about 8 hours in the van, stopping four times to pick up other subs. Each time, after the half hour stop, the door would open allowing in a flood of light, blinding Blaine and his fellow occupants. Either one or two people were thrown into the space, the door then shutting again before Blaine’s eyes could adjust. He would help each of the fellow subs up, seeming to be the only one unbound, and guiding them to the small bench running around the edge of the van. He tried to make small talk with them, but only one girl would respond to him – called Brittany. She was a slightly odd character, but Blaine really liked her. It wasn’t long though before they ran out of non-depressing things to talk about, and the back of the van descended into silence once more.

When they finally reached the sub house, all 6 of the van’s occupants where yanked out one by one by their collars, proving to be as strong as Blaine suspected. Before he was able to get a proper look at the building, they were all hustled inside, each with a guard restraining them. They come to a large room filled with kneeling subs in neat lines. Blaine assumes these are all the older kids at the sub house, there are about 10 lines of 10 at his guess, and considering that he has been told the house tends to have around 120 subs, he thinks he isn’t too far off. His group joins 5 other kneeling people at the front, facing everyone else. From the nervous fidgeting, he assumes these are other subs from within the same month as him. He is forced to kneel by the guard, who then relocates his hand from Blaine’s collar to his hair, yanking his head up uncomfortably to see the rest of the room. Blaine counts 12 rows, each between 11 and 6 people long. He feels a small, strange, bit of pride at having guessed so close. He inwardly chuckles at that thought, who knew he would be reduced to feeling happy over such a small thing? He also counts 20 guards in his line of sight, as well as the 11 holding him and the others at the front. It feels even more intense than he would expect a prison to be, especially because it appears the other subs aren’t even making a noise just through breathing. Hunter strides into the room and faces Blaine’s group.

“Welcome July lot. This is your first opportunity to get told the rules, although you will get to join us each month when we welcome the new subs.” Hunter indicates the kneeling subs behind him, genetically less than a year older than Blaine, but physically they looked like they had been through years of neglect and torture. Blaine figures that isn’t far from the truth. “No eye contact. No answering back. No objections or complaining - you no longer have a right to your own bodies. When you are told to do something, you do it straight away. If I tell you to jump off a cliff, you better fucking jump. We do let you walk if you behave, but as soon as you are not moving you are to kneel. Your place is on the floor, you are not permitted to use any furniture unless explicitly told so. If you haven’t been given instructions to, you should assume you can’t. You may not ask for anything, unless you are told to beg.

“Your first month here is a kind of an adjustment period. We will teach you how to be a sub: basic kneeling, basic commands, and basic expectations. From there you will advance through training on different kinks, making sure you can please both sexes, and handyman skills. Your final month here will be preparing you for auction and your first master. In three days’ time you will get to experience what the auction will be like, as although it’s August and the returned subs that are for sale, we like to display our new stock to start getting interest in you. Within the next three days, you will already be obedient subs.” Hunter turns round to address the other subs, but Blaine has blanked out of what Hunter is saying.

In three days’ time the guards expect them to be perfect already, if that’s possible why is training a year long? And his place is on the floor? Plus, he is gay, so how was he meant to please both sexes? It’s not a thing he can just turn on and off. The role of a sub is starting to become too clear for Blaine. He hears Hunters final line.

“… And with that all said, you are dismissed.” He turns back to face the line Blaine is in, waiting for the other subs to leave before addressing them. “As for you lot, time to get you broken in!” He says excitedly. Hunter walks out, Blaine and his group are forced to follow by the guards who are once again leading them by their collars.


 

They had been led into an empty room, big enough for all 11 subs to cower on the floor, but there wouldn't have been enough space if there had been many more. The last sub had been pushed in, before they all heard the door lock.

Blaine was sat in one of the far corners, his back against the wall protectively. No one dared to say anything, not wanting to verbally ask the question they all wanted to ask, but none really wanted their suspicions confirmed

Blaine knew exactly what it meant. Rich hums didn't want to have to train subs. This laziness even overshadowed the desire to have an 'unused sub'. They were all sat here waiting to have their virginity stolen. It would probably be the best way to break all the subs initially, making them feel used and damaged, then chucked back into the house to be treated like all the other 'pieces of property'. Blaine knew it would be especially painful, he just hoped it wasn't Hunter who would be doing it. That man had took a special interest in Blaine, and he couldn't wait to be as far away from him as possible.

After a short amount of time, two guards in officer uniforms walk into the room and grab the two closest subs - one of them being Nick - before hauling them out. It happened so fast Blaine doesn't really know what happened until the door was locked once again and he could process it. He sees a girl with long blonde hair stands and walk over to him. A lot of people give her glares since she was the next closest to the door, but when she sits down next to Blaine they move to make room for her.

"What do you think will happen now?" She asks. Although Blaine didn't recognise what she looked like, having been in the pitch black van, he recognises her voice instantly.

"I'm not really sure Brittany." He says, not wanting to panic the innocent girl.

"I know they will have sex with us, but then what will happen in the future?" She asks, realising Blaine didn't know what she was referring to exactly.

"I'm just trying not to think about it." He replies solemnly.

"My Mom always told me to play a game when I need to take my mind off things. Do you want to play a game with me? I recommend pat-a-cake. It's from England, I learnt it when I lived there for a year." She says naïvely.

"What's that?"

"Well, there is this rhyme you say while clapping your hands in a routine. Would you like me to show you?" Deciding that he had nothing to lose, and he really does want to take his mind of everything, he decides to embrace the childish game. Surprisingly, Blaine really enjoys playing and finds it has helped dissipate the worry that was bubbling inside him.

The door is opened again, a guard giving Blaine and Brittany a hard glare causing them to stop playing and drop their heads guiltily, before grabbing another sub by his collar and yanking him out.

Once he is gone however, Blaine and Brittney burst out laughing, the guard not having effected their enjoyment. They resume playing.

Before long, Brittany relocates to another partner, all of the subs in the room having taken great interest in their game, which involved lots of fits of giggles when one of them missed the others hand. Blaine turns to the girl sat next to him, as Brittney starts playing with her new partner.

"Hi, I'm Blaine." He says, holding his hand out for the Asian girl to shake.

"T...T...Tina." She stutters, taking his hand.

"Do you want to play? I'm told it helps take your mind of everything!" He smiles.

"O...Okay." She replies, looking generally happy Blaine had asked. Blaine teaches her the hand movements; a simple repetition of an individual clap, then clapping together the diagonal hands of each party, before repeating again but this time with the other hand. They start playing, Blaine taking over Brittany's role of singing to produce the rhythm to clap to:

'pat-a-cake pat-a-cake, baker's man.

Bake me a cake as fast as you can.

Pat it and shape it and mark it with B.

And bake it in the oven for baby and me.

Pat-a-cake pat-a-cake, Bakers man.

Bake me a cake as fast as you can.

Roll it up, Roll it up.

And throw it in a pan.

Pat-a-cake pat-a-cake, bakers man'

He had been so absorbed in singing he hadn't noticed that everyone was watching him in awe until he came to the end of the repetitive song. He looks up, and also notices the guard watching him from the door. He freezes in fear, smile falling from his face.

"I want you. Now." He demands. Blaine is still frozen though. "Did you not hear me slut? Now!" He almost shouts, loud enough to wake Blaine into action, quickly getting up and making his way across the small room. The guard grabs his collar, and as had been done with all the other subs, he gets yanked out of the room by the guard, almost tripping. He muffles a scream at the added pressure on his still unhealed brand, the pain bringing him back to reality as though he has just ran head first into a wall.

As they walk away from the room he had felt so safe in, he hears several voices start singing the rhyme once again, slowly fading as he is led away.

Chapter Text

Blaine is taken into a large room with a double bed at the centre, however it couldn't be further from a bedroom if it tried. All along the walls are various hooks and pulley systems, which Blaine doesn’t have the faintest clue as to how to use them – although he is sure he will soon -, as well as several cupboards and draws. The guard takes him to one of the empty rings on the wall, and pulling out a lead from his pocket, clips one end to the ring and the other onto his collar, effectively chaining him to the wall. His hands get cuffed tightly in front of him before the guard leaves the room without a backwards glance.

Despite the lead having a simple clip, with his hands restrained he is unable to unhook himself, the simplicity taunting him like a carrot on a string in front of a donkey. Before he can become too frustrated or start to panic about being restrained on his own, Hunter walks into the room. Although that in itself brings a new wave of worry.

“Well hello, boy.” He began. “Since you have been well behaved in the van, lets’ loosen this collar of yours a bit, like I promised.” He pulls out some sort of key, and disengages the lock on his collar, before loosening it an inch and relocking it. Blaine takes a huge breath, not realising how restrictive the collar had been until it was looser. "Oh you look lovely stood like that, I'm so glad I requested to have you. I’ve been waiting for this moment since I saw you in holding, waiting to be the first to take you. You scream virgin, and the image of taking your virginity almost softens my distaste towards you in that I doubt I can afford you to have personally. As a little secret, just between you and me, I never normally do this part of the job, but you are something special. Seeing you stood here, presented for my pleasure, I might not be able to make it to the bed. How appealing is the idea of your first time being against this wall at your master’s mercy. I bet you would love that, my little slut." He sneers.

Blaine shuts his eyes and tries to imagine he is not about to be fucked by this man, but like Hunter kind of predicted, his dick likes the idea and steals his concentration unwantedly. He feels a hand running over his body, tugging his cock a few times. Blaine fights to prevent the moan building up from escaping his lips; he doesn’t want to give this man the satisfaction.

"Your training starts here. Firstly, you don’t get to come without permission, which is only given by earning it. So far, you haven’t earned it.” Hunters hand leaves Blaine’s body, and he feels relieved. “What you are currently in is the standard sub restraint; although we are sometimes more creative with how we do it." Blaine opens his eyes worriedly, noticing the lust in Hunter's eyes. There is a sharp shock through his thigh, causing him to produce a high pitch scream and his knees to buckle, only to then be silenced by his collar connected to the wall, choking him. Hunter doesn't help, but Blaine manages to get his footing fairly quickly, allowing him to breathe once again.

"I'm sure you were told that you keep your head down at all times. However you bring me to my first point. This is a Taser." Hunter brings the item up into Blaine's eye line. "Normally I would use whips and paddles, however this is much easier to use while you are new and need reminding of the rules often. And it doesn't mark up as bad while being just as effective, so I haven’t got to worry about damaging you. If you disobey a rule, you get to meet Mr. Taser here. Is that understood?"

"Yes." Blaine replies, shakily nodding his head to emphasise his understanding. However he gets another shock from the Taser, this time on the other leg. Once again he loses his footing, but this time he doesn’t make a noise, having not completely got his breath back from the last time. Slower than before, he gets back to his feet and is able to breathe once again. Hunter gives him a moment, watching him in a way that makes Blaine's skin crawl.

"See, this is one reason I don't particularly like Tasers, every time you force me to shock you, you almost suffocate yourself. Let’s try it again, and you can address me properly this time. If you disobey, you get Tasered. Do you understand?"

"Y..yes m...master." Blaine stutters, looking at his feet. He really doesn't want to undergo that pain again. He understands why they can bring down a fully grown male gym addict.

"Okay, let’s move you to the bed, I'm bored of standing and talking." He says, unclipping the lead from the wall hook and walking Blaine over to the bed. Blaine feels like a pet, being led from the end of a lead by his ‘master’. He hates the dehumanisation of it, and knows it’s only going to get worse during his time at the sub house.

Hunter yanks the lead once they reach his intended destination, causing Blaine to fall as his knees come into contact with the bed. Before he can right himself, the far end of the lead is being attached to a hook on the headboard, causing Blaine to lie sprawled out on his stomach unable to get up. He twists round onto his back so he can watch as Hunter walks away towards one of the units along the wall, before returning with something in his hands.

“These are your wrist cuffs, you will wear these most of the time, although they will come off if they are an inconvenience for us during certain activities, or sometimes you can earn it as a reward. The best part of them is that you can lock yourself together. Watch this.” Blaine watches Hunter press the two thick leather cuffs together. He can see that a small hook on the sides of each one has been pushed open by the motion, allowing the two cuffs to link. Then as the pressure is released, the hooks close automatically, like tiny carabiner clips. Hunter pulls the cuffs away from each other, but due to the direction of the latch, the cuffs do not unhook. “Now they can only be undone manually, and due to your wrists being locked, you can’t do it yourself. Sometimes you will be asked to latch yourself, mainly if there is an emergency and your master needs his attention elsewhere, but sometimes for other reasons which you may not understand. However whether you know why or not, you do it without a thought, understood?”

“Yes master.” Blaine answers, almost robotically. Hunter smiles.

“That’s a good boy. See, these are such a great invention, for you as well as us!” Hunter unhooks the cuffs from each other, and places them round Blaine’s still bound wrists. “They also are good for binding you to the bed and other objects with strong enough hooks.” He chuckles as he places the new cuffs round Blaine’s wrists before removing the one the guard had used. He then starts manoeuvring Blaine’s wrists so each hand is attached to opposing corners of the head board, leaving him laid on his back. Blaine tries fighting against Hunter, thrashing his arms and kicking his legs, but it doesn’t faze Hunter, and before he realises, Blaine is securely tied to the bed, hands at each side of the bed and his collar chained in the middle.

“Please, please don’t master.” Blaine begs.

“Oh your begging is turning me on boy.” Hunter purred. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t r…rape m…me, master. Please d…don’t, master.” He whispers.

“Boy, you have a lot to learn. You see, even by law, this isn’t rape. For it to be rape you would have to have ownership of your own body. But this here,” Hunter runs his hand along Blaine’s collar, tugging the tag stating him as belonging to the sub house. ”Well, this here shows you don’t. You are an object, not a person. A belonging, and you belong to me. Because of that, I can do whatever I want with my property, to you.” Blaine starts kicking his legs out, aiming simply for contact with Hunter. Instead he hears a chuckle as Hunter moves out of his reach. Looking up, he notices he has started stripping, his short and slim cock springing free from his underwear. Blaine looks away in disgust, although secretly happy that he is much bigger than Hunter. He walks back over, settling himself at the foot of the long bed, out of Blaine’s reach.

“You have two options from here onwards. Do as you are told, either willingly or not. Which one do you chose? As a bit of advice, if you do something willingly it’s much less painful for you.” Blaine doesn’t respond, instead crossing his legs over each other, trying to prevent Hunter from getting closer to his intended goal. “I am far too interested in you for my own good.” He mutters, but Blaine just able to hear what he says. Hunter continues. “I’m going to give you a hint. Open your legs for me whore.” Whore. Blaine guesses that’s what he is now, despite his previous beliefs of how sex is an act to share with that person you love. All he is now is a whore for people to fuck until he can no longer walk. He feels a pinch on the bottom of his foot, causing him to flinch but not give in. “Ok, you have had more warnings than I should have given.” There is a bit of movement on the bed, before an extreme pain in his cock. That bastard had Tasered his dick! Blaine fights the urge to vomit or pass out. He doesn’t want to imagine what Hunter will do if he covers the sheets in puke, nor can he imagine Hunter changing his plans just because his ‘possession’ is passed out. He feels his legs being moved, but he is too weak to fight it.

Once the nausea settles, he looks forwards to see Hunter sat between his legs, preventing him from closing them. He shuts his eyes and leans his head back against the pillow, trying to organise his mind. His current situation: being tied naked to a bed, with a man wanting to rape him sat between his legs. He can’t think of a way out of it – if he doesn’t want to do something he will be made to. Fighting will cause more pain, but he doesn’t want to give in willingly, despite still being light headed. He feels something blunt pushing against his hole and panics. This is it, and he still hasn’t found a way out.

One of Hunters fingers slides into Blaine’s unused hole. He hisses at the pain, the roughness of it as Hunter fucks Blaine with his dry finger. This is not how Blaine planned his first time at all. He was going to meet someone he loved, and after being together and slowly progressing through the relationship stages, they would both be comfortably ready for penetrative sex. Blaine would set out candles and cook a meal, before slowly working their way through to the bedroom. Then after lovingly praising every inch of his boyfriend’s skin, Blaine would top, gently and lovingly. Although his friends all said he was a bottom, he knew he was by far the best twerker at school, there is no way he wouldn’t put that to use. He feels himself getting harder at the image in his head. Waking Blaine from his daydream with another burst of pain, a second finger of Hunters was thrust inside. He hadn’t yet adjusted to the first finger. He wishes for his dick to soften, however he has gone past the stage of turning back, and his dick, having had the head start of his imagination, was now reacting to the fingers his brain was trying to ignore.

“Oh slut, taking it so good for me. I’m so glad I opted against protocol and decided to prep you, getting to feel you clench and expand around my fingers like the little whore you are.” Hunter marvelled. Blaine hates the thought that Hunter had considered taking him unprepared, surely that would have caused a lot of pain, and even have damaged Hunter’s property. Blaine feels the fingers leave him, only to be replaced by something much larger and thicker. His body tries to reject the foreign object, but Hunters dick is stronger. “Just so you know, you aren’t allowed to cum today, you have to earn that.” Wait. Blaine didn’t seriously just consider himself property, did he? He pushes the thought to the back of his mind, he is not property, he’s a person.

Although thankful Hunter had used lube on his dick, it doesn’t lessen the intense burning inside Blaine. He tries to kick his legs out to throw Hunter off balance, but Hunter just relocates his hands to Blaine’s thighs, stopping him from attempting again. Instead he tries to separate his mind from his body, deciding that his only escape is getting away mentally since he can’t physically. He manages to an extent. Distantly, he feels Hunter’s pace quicken, and hopes this means it will be over soon. He vaguely remembers his own dicks hardness and cringes, knowing Hunter will take it to mean Blaine is getting hard from his dick fucking his arse. Blaine hates to even contemplate that that may be part of the reason for the increased blood flow to his cock, and instead chooses to ignore it. Finally, he feels Hunter reach his climax, Blaine feeling it’s safe to come back down to reality as Hunter removes himself from Blaine’s arse. He notices Hunter removing a condom, one he hadn’t noticed earlier, and relief floods him in the knowledge that at least there was some layer between him and his abuser.

“That’s a very good slut, letting me get off while not letting go yourself. You will learn that whenever you do something good like this, you will get a reward. For this, I’m going to fetch a plug for you. That way when I come back later it won’t be nearly as painful than without it, seeing as I’m only generous to stretch you the once for today.” Blaine groans in horror of the idea he could be fucked without being prepped, but Hunter takes the noise as confirmation Blaine liked the reward, returning and shoving in a plug before turning on his heels and leaving. He shifts uncomfortably at the intrusion, slightly smaller than Hunter was.

Blaine is left feeling used, fucked and tied to a bed. He doesn’t even attempt to find a way to reduce his hard-on problem, the pain in his arse being his biggest concern. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to distract himself from thoughts of the last 20 minutes of his life. He doesn’t know how long he is left for, but it was at least long enough for his dick to soften of its own accord. He falls asleep to the thought of Jeff and all his other friends from his old life.

Chapter Text

That night Hunter returned once more, as well as two other guards at separate occasions. They brutally beat into him, leaving bruises and cuts behind. Surprisingly Hunter had been the kindest, treating Blaine almost like a human, whereas the guards had just fucked him as though he was a human fleshlight, like the object he now is considered to be. Once the last guard had finished with him, he was unchained and carried out of the room, too broken and sore to support his own weight on his legs. When the guard told him to latch his cuffs together, he did it without thinking or questioning.

He had been taken to a room filled with steal cages like that in a homeless animal shelter, a solid floor and sides round the cage, with the door formed of vertical bars. Each cage was the height of half the room, one on top of the other. In total there were 16 of these cages, 8 along one wall and 8 on the other, facing each other with a narrow gap for a walk way. At the end of the walkway there was another door, snuggly fitting between the two rows of cages. Blaine was thrown into the first cage in the top row, the ones opposite and below him having been filled already. Nick was in the cage directly opposite him, which was comforting yet agitating, seeing his friend so close yet out of reach. Neither of them in the mood to acknowledge the other, they both stay silent.

The flooring of the cage is slightly padded. He looks down out of interest and sees it is some kind of spongey material. Recognition dawns on him, it’s the same type of material his mother used to put on his mattress when he was young and wet the bed; waterproof bed pads. Blaine hopes this doesn’t mean what he thinks it means – he will be expected to go to the toilet like an animal, and then to sleep in his filth. He must be looking into it wrong.

He looks around his cage. It’s tall enough to sit upright, and even just tall enough for him to crouch, but not tall enough for him to stand. For once he is happy about his mere height. The cage is not very deep; laying at the back on his side, his linked arms can just reach the metal door. As for the width of the cage, Blaine would fit if he cut his knees off; instead he pulls them up towards his chest. It’s not the most comfortable of positions, but after his treatment that evening, he falls asleep almost instantly, not disturbed even when the other remaining subs are brought into the room.


 

Blaine is woken up by a loud commotion. He shoots up into a sitting position defensively, unsure of what’s going on. He sees Nick being restrained by a short woman with black hair, wearing a dress similar to those in hospitals. The most noticeable thing about her is the collar, exactly like his. However she must be something different to him, none of the subs he saw yesterday had a shred of clothing on. Although Nick was kicking and shouting, this girl – he notices she can’t be much older than him – didn’t seem to be having any trouble keeping Nick pressed forwards into the cages. In fact, she was using her forearm to hold Nick while picking at her nails with both hands. Blaine tries to guess what has happened, but is saved from guessing as Hunter appears.

“Thanks. What’s your name again girl?” He says to the collared woman.

“Santana, master.” She replies, looking down. Hunter clears his throat. “I mean, I mean 9273 master. Sorry master.” She hastily corrects.

“I will let that slip past this once. Good girl.” Hunter praises. He grabs hold of Nick’s arm, but Santana doesn’t let go until Hunter nods to her. “You may go, I will finish in here. You and the other one can go to the station, and I will send someone down to give a reward as soon as I have a chance.” She almost runs from the room. Hunter turns back to Nick, and starts growling into his ear. “What was your goal slut? What did you think you would accomplish trying to beat up one of my older subs? Or are you simply turning on your own now? You won’t have many allies left in this world, and yet you turn on those who are. Have you not understood anything you have been told already? Let me say it in simpler words: You, Do, As, You, Are, Told. When you are told to remain in the cage, you do not get out of the cage. Understood?” Nick nods. “I want to hear you slut.”

“Y…Yes m…master.” He stutters. Hunter pulls a lead from his pocket, and hooks Nick to one of the bars on his cage door.

“You are going to stay this time. As for the rest of you, since you are all now awake-” Blaine looks around and realises that some of the other subs from yesterday are also in cages opposite him, and assumes the rest are in the same row as he is, out of his sight. “-I am going to unlock your doors. You stay in there until I tell you to leave. First lesson of today, you all get to see what happens to subs who don’t do as they are told.” Hunter slowly works his way around the room, unlocking Blaine last. He walks back to Nick, and unhooks the lead from the cage before issuing one command and dragging Nick out. “Follow.”


During the walk through various corridors, Brittany makes her way to Blaine’s side. They don’t say anything, but Blaine finds comfort in just having the girl next to him. A friendly face among the mass of nameless naked bodies. And that’s all they are as they walk to an unknown destination, following Hunter, all of them too nervous to express much emotion or personality. They have no idea where they are going or what is in store, only that they themselves are glad they are not Nick. Blaine feels very sorry for his friend.

Finally they walk into a large open space, almost like a canteen but without tables. There are lots of subs either kneeling and eating, or walking with a purpose, but none of them appear to notice the new arrivals. Either that or they chose to ignore them. Blaine spots several people in a similar dress to Santana, but not as many as there are naked. In the middle of the room are several long poles sticking up from the floor. Hunter drags Nick towards the centre one, before grabbing his linked wrists and attaching them to the pole above his head. Hunter turns towards the rest of them, crossing his arms and waiting. Blaine realises that they had come to a stop, but none of them had kneeled like they are meant to. He hates being the first to move, but given Hunters mood already, he doesn’t want to test his patience. Despite the awkwardness his linked wrists, he drops to his knees. Shortly after everyone has followed his lead.

“Well done everyone. I knew you would be quicker learns than this one here. We always seem to have more trouble with those who had to be tested twice. Now,” Hunter looks at Nick’s brand, peeking out from under his collar, “9103 here needs to be taught a lesson. Something like the stunt he pulled – trying to run away – would normally end in a much harsher punishment, but since it is only your second day here, he is only going to get 20 lashes. You are all to watch 9103, and to not forget this.” Without another word Hunter turns to Nick and picks up a large, narrow whip.

With the first lash, Nick lets out a horrific scream. Blaine can almost feel the pain himself. As the whip is removed, there is already a red line from the impact. The whip is back on Nick without a pause, the second lash coming down with more force than the first. Nick lets out another shout, and as the whip is pulled back Blaine can see that this one has broken the skin. There are still 18 more to go, but he is unsure how Nick will be able to take them all. Blaine want’s to look away, but worries he will receive the same fate for disobeying, several guards having joined the group to watch the other 10 subs. After the 7th strike, there is no scream, and Blaine realises that Nick has passed out. Blaine watches the final 13 hits, grateful Nick isn’t able to feel them. At least, he won’t feel them until he regains consciousness. Finally, Hunter puts down the whip and turns to address the rest of them.

“Now, let us continue the day like we were meant to. Follow.” He commands, walking out the room the same way they entered. Turning back he instructs, “Make sure you pay attention to where we walk, you won’t have a guide forever.”

Blaine takes one final look at the unconscious, beaten body of one of his closest friends, before following Hunter with the rest of the subs.


 

Throughout the rest of the day, Brittany remains glued to his side. They still don’t talk – one of the many rules they were told harshly without room for debate. Before he knows it they are lead back into the canteen room for their one meal of the day, a large lunch of processed roast beef and packet vegetables. Although it wasn’t anywhere near his normal standard, it was surprisingly better than he was expecting. But then again, they wouldn’t want to completely destroy their looks; Blaine knows that healthy subs will sell for more money.

Nick is still tied to the pole in the centre, seemingly unmoved from earlier, but at least now conscious. Blaine starts walking in his direction, wanting to comfort his friend, but is quickly directed back to the rest of the subs by a guard before he is even half way there. Blaine doesn’t fight, instead hoping he can catch Nick’s eyes at some point and send a supportive smile. However they are directed out of the canteen area before Nick looks their way. Blaine suspects it was with purpose.

The afternoon contains more teaching. How to kneel correctly, how to predict what your master wants, knowing when a question requires a verbal answer or when to keep silent. Everyone seemed to pick it up quickly, all in a daze from the earlier events. For Blaine it was all a bit of a blur, his mind on Nick, but fortunately enough of it sticks so that he doesn’t get in trouble. After being told more rules and expectations, eventually the day draws to a close and they are once again led back to their room with the cages. Blaine expected to see Nick in his own cage, but when they arrive it is empty still. Instead the only difference from the way they left it in the morning was the laminated card, cable tied to the cage doors. They each have 4 numbers on. Blaine looks at the cage he was in the previous night, and sees the paper say 5226. These are obviously tags to identify who is in each cage when they can’t see their brand.

They are informed that every evening they will be allowed a bit of downtime in their ‘room’, able to chat and relax a bit, clean themselves up with a shower (which Blaine discovers are located behind the other door in the room), before one of the trained subs – the ones allowed clothing, having been returned from previous owners and waiting to be resold at the next auction – will come and lock them away in the cages for the night.

However, even though they are allowed to do pretty much anything they want within the locked room, that night no one talks. When two trained subs – one of them the girl from the morning – come an hour later to lock them in the cages, they all climb in before latching their cuffs like instructed. All in all, everyone was still very shook up by the whole Nick event and the sudden slap in the face by their new reality. Blaine knew it was going to be bad, but he thinks nothing could have broken them faster than watching the morning event.


 

Nick eventually is returned to his cage sometime during the night. Although he isn’t fighting the trained sub who brings him back, they still make enough noise to wake Blaine and a few of the others. After being instructed to lock his wrists and being thrown into his cage, the sub leaves without a word to the others, relocking the door to the cell on their way out. Once Blaine thinks the trained sub is out of ear shot, he speaks up.

“Nick! How are you?” He hears stiff movement before a reply, Nick moving so he is facing Blaine despite being in the pitch black.

“Sore.” He chuckles. “I can’t take this. I wasn’t even trying to run away or attach the girl this morning like they thought, I was just getting out of the cage. It isn’t exactly comfortable in here, and they didn’t tell me not to. Heck, they had even locked the main door behind them so I knew I couldn’t run, and I assumed I was allowed out. But that girl had her head so far up her arse, she didn’t realise what I was doing. Instead she sent the other dude to fetch Hunter. You know the story from there. I bet she did it to get in Hunters good books, knowing there would be a reward for it.”

“I’m so sorry Nick.”

“It’s not your fault, you were still asleep. I think I was the only one awake, I didn’t feel safe enough to sleep like everyone else.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you in that holding centre, and that I didn’t agree with you. You were right, this isn’t the right way to spend your life, even if there may be a few ups, it isn’t worth it.” Blaine sighs.

“Don’t give up on me now Blainey. It was that little speech in the centre that has kept me sane all this time. All day I was in and out of consciousness. The only thought on my mind was ‘Blaine is normally right, maybe it will get better from here.’ I didn’t really believe myself, but it kept me sane when those awful hums came to talk and patronise me throughout the day.”

“So what did you do all day?” Blaine asks, curious.

“Nothing. I was left like that all day. Someone brought me a drink not long after you lot left at lunch. Then before I was brought back here that girl gave me a quick run through of everything I missed being taught, then I was dragged back here. Do you know who those people are, the ones in the dresses?” Nick asks, trying to change the topic slightly.

“From what I have gathered, they are subs at least a year older. It appears that when an owner no longer wants a sub, we get brought back here and then resold at the next auction. I don’t know what they do all day but it seems its work, the people in the kitchen all had collars on. I think they are left alone a lot more than we are, and have a bit more responsibility.”

“Great. So even when we do get out of here, we will soon end up back.” Nick huffs.

“Well, we could be stuck in Mrs Madril’s French class.” He grimaced, trying to lighten the mood but failing. Nick however appreciates the attempt, and laughs.

“Yes. No more French homework ever!” He replies jokingly. Blaine can hear all the meanings behind it, how there will be no more education, no need to know anything other than how to do as they are told, no need to be them, but he decides – like Nick – to take it at face value and make a laugh out of it.

They continue talking until way into the night, having not had any idea what time Nick had come back, he couldn’t even approximate what time it is when they start to fall asleep. They chatted as though they were not in this situation, instead it was almost as though they were having another one of many sleep overs round Nick’s, their friendship on the repair. Blaine hears a mumble from Nick he can only just make out.

“I want out of here Blaine. I don’t care how, but I want out.” However Blaine has fallen asleep before he can reply.

Chapter Text

The third day follows almost exactly the same pattern as yesterday, but with a much better start to the morning than before. Nick and Blaine stayed at each other’s side all day, with Brittany also her ever comforting presence on Blaine’s other side. Although over lunch they were unable to talk, they were able to communicate in their own way of meaningful looks while the guards had their attention elsewhere. The afternoon started off by following the same pattern as yesterday, being retold a lot of the rules from yesterday by a couple of guards, Nick being taught for the first time.

Mid-afternoon they are met once again by Hunter. He strides into the room as though he has better places to be, and starts addressing all the subs without looking down at any of the kneeling figures.

“As you probably have worked out, we have the auction tomorrow. Everything you have been taught so far applies, but let’s reiterate they important ones so there are no excuses. You are to stay kneeling all day, unless a dom asks you to stand for them. You are not to converse with any doms beyond that of ‘Yes Sir, No Ma’am’; they won’t care what you have to say anyway. And most importantly, you are to keep your heads down at all times; the only exception is if a prospective buyer tells you to look up, but as soon as they turn their attention elsewhere I expect you to drop your heads once again. Now you get to finish early for the day, spend the time making yourself presentable. You are dismissed.”

Hunter walks out, and slowly Blaine and the rest of the subs rise as well. They make their way down the corridors, only one guard following behind. Blaine gets disorientated on the way, but it appears Brittany had learnt the layout of the building already, so he allows her to lead. He has a feeling the rest of them are just as happy as him that there is someone who knows the way already. As soon as they have all made it back to their cell, the guard locks the door and leaves without a word.

They all stand there like lost puppies, no one really sure what to do. Nick is the first to move.

“Well, I’m going to have a shower before the water pressure disappears.” He says, walking through the door to the wash room. Blaine decides to copy him.

It’s the first time he has ventured into the room, and it was pretty much how he expected. It looked almost like the room in holding but larger - on reflection Blaine thought that made sense, they were owned by the same company for the same usage. Instead of the strange ratio of fittings however, this room had exactly 4 of each. However there were no partitions between anything, meaning no privacy at all. Blaine was hesitant to approach the toilet with his friend in the room, but realised he would probably be more comfortable doing his business in front of his friend than one of the others subs he is yet to know, and chances are there will not be much time for privacy in this room anyway, so he might as well get a taste of the waters before plunging in deep. And it’s not as though Nick – or any of the other subs for that matter – hasn’t seen him naked.

Blaine starts showering as Nick finishes, neither saying anything out of embarrassment – despite the reassuring talk he gave himself before. As he steps under the cold flow of water, he is joined by a smiling Brittany, who turns on the shower next to him.

“Aww Blainey, you don’t look as puppy like with your hair wet! It’s not fluffy anymore.” She greeted, oblivious to the tension in the room.

“It will be fluffier when it dries, just you wait Britt.” He chuckles.

“Can I pat it when it’s fluffy?”

“If you want to I guess. My Mom used to braid it sometimes when I was upset. It was her way of cheering me up.” The memory of his Mom causes him to close in on himself; he believes he needs to forget his past in order to survive being a sub.

“You’re upset now.” She states. “I will style it once we finish in here.”

Blaine picks up the generic 2 in 1 shower gel and shampoo combo Nick had used and squirts some onto his hand, before politely passing it to Brittany to use as well. Of course the OSO couldn’t have given them the two separate products; they wouldn’t have spent the extra money. Half of Blaine wonders if they will even have access to anything once this one bottle has ran out. Maybe they are only allowed it because they are being ‘displayed’ tomorrow.

Two other subs have also joined in showering in the time he has been there. Neither of them he has spoken to yet. He isn’t sure if it is even worth finding out their names, but then again a year is a long time to make friends – even if they can’t be long term – so he resolves to at least find out the names of the other subs.

There aren’t any towels in the room, so Blaine and Brittany both walk out of the room dripping with cold water, lucky that it is the hottest time of the year so they don’t feel frozen. Blaine hates to wonder what this place will be like in the winter; he doesn’t think they will waste money on heating the whole place. Blaine sees Nick sat in the far corner, on the floor like the rest of the subs, and decides to go sit with his friend, Brittany following behind.

“Hey.” He greets them both sullenly.

“Hi! I’m Brittany. And Blaine says I can braid his hair.” Nick looks at Blaine in shock, knowing Blaine would never let any of the Warblers touch his thickly gelled hair. Blaine just shrugs in response, sitting down next to Nick with Brittany on her knees behind him, eyeing up his hair.

They stay sat like that for a while, Brittany trying lots of different styles in his hair but not coming to one she likes. At one point the girl he spoke to two days ago – Tina – comes over and joins them. They don’t mention anything personal – like school, hobbies or old friends – and instead talk about banal topics, like the customer service at target.

A lot later a guard comes in, who is met with no resistance when he locks them all in their cages. Although not everyone was involved in a conversation, the more relaxed evening put most of them in a slightly better, more optimistic mood. Idly, Blaine wonders why it was a guard who came rather than Santana, but then again maybe she is under her own orders to get ready for tomorrow.

He falls asleep the quickest he has since being labelled a sub.

Chapter Text

They were woken up earlier than normal by a guard striding in, banging on the cage doors. He thought he was starting to recognise the guards by looks, but he hasn’t seen this woman before. He started coming up with nicknames for the guards to be able to differentiate them – sour face, Voldemort, and donkey to name a few – but is yet to find something for this woman. Blaine sits up and patiently waits for her to get round to him, opening the door but not unlatching his cuffs when he presents his hands. He drops them shyly.

“All of you out. I need to check you are presentable before I take you down. Hopefully, for your sake, you did all wash last night.” Blaine ungracefully scrambles out of his cage, almost falling without the use of his hands. The guard makes her way around the room, roughly grabbing each sub in turn and slowly spinning them around, looking up and down their bodies, and then putting something in their mouths. Blaine isn’t sure exactly what she is looking for, but when she reaches him he moves without objecting, and she seems satisfied with whatever she was looking for. She pops the object in Blaine’s mouth once she has finished, and he relaxes when he realises it’s just a mint. He would prefer being given a toothbrush, but at least it is something for the time being.

“Ok.” She continues. “You already know the rules for today. I’m taking you down to the hall now, we open the doors at half 7, although people don’t tend to start arriving until 8, so you have about an hour. At mid-day we hold lunch for the visitors, so you will get a break. Then the auction will start late afternoon. This year it will not take too long as we only have 6 new subs and 20 returned subs, which is just over half of what we normally have to get through. Once the auction is over, you will probably end up with more attention, people being annoyed that they didn’t win an auction lot this time so will look at what merchandise we will have in coming months.” A shiver runs down Blaine’s spine, another reminder that he is simply an object to most of the world. “As the night progresses though, you will become less popular, seeing as we only lend out the older subs for a ‘trial night’. You will be brought back a few hours earlier than the rest and be allowed a bit of time to relax before lights out. Now that’s all said, follow me.” She says, turning on her heels and walking out, not looking to see if they are following. Of course they all do, after the demonstration they got yesterday when a dark haired sub didn’t do as he was told; no one was going to risk it.


 

After a surprisingly long walk, they arrive at a huge room Blaine hasn’t seen before. It’s a strange shape, not one open space but several walls seemingly in the middle of nowhere and for no apparent reason. Blaine and his group are led to one end of the room, labelled with a 1, and told to kneel by one of the thin chains on the floor within an area surrounded by three walls. Blaine and Nick both end up next to each other, with Tina on Blaine’s other side and Brittany opposite Nick. Several other guards join the first in clipping the chains to the back loop on their collars. When a male guard makes his way round to Blaine, he also unhooks his wrist cuffs before latching them once again behind his back. Because of the angle, it means Blaine would now be unable to undo the simple clip on the chain like he could have with his hands linked in front of him. He looks up and notices that both Nick and Tina have been put in the same position already, not just him.

Once the guards have finished, all but one leaves, obviously having other jobs to do. The original female guard is the only one remaining, and she takes up a position in the centre of the only exit. The ‘room’ they are in is square, about 34 feet along each edge, missing one wall. Blaine counts four rows of four chains – five of them not being used – spaced evenly within the room. Blaine realises there is enough space between him and his neighbours for people to walk. The strange set up of the main room makes sense now – these are like cubicles, each month with their own one, allowing people to walk around and inspect them. Looking out the gap past the guard, he sees an identical set up opposite but labelled with a 2, possibly for the subs a month older than him. The guard sees him looking around and strides over, swiftly slapping his face.

“You were told to keep your head down. Has it not yet stuck that when you are told to do something, you do it?” She asks rhetorically. “Now if I have to come over here again because of you, there will be a harsher consequence. Is that understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.” He replies, with his head down, knowing the woman wanted a verbal response. Without acknowledging him, she walks back to where she was stood earlier. Blaine notices Nick looking at him in question, but pretends he hasn’t seen.


 

As predicted, people don’t start turning up until an hour later. By that time Blaine’s knee’s where already incredibly sore. Yes, he may have had to spend the last few days on his knees, but not for an hour without moving, and he doesn’t dare fidget in case it causes the guard to come back over. He had decided to call her ‘slapper’, since she so far has been the only one to not use a Taser for a minor punishment. Plus it feels appropriate.

It takes another hour before people start appearing at their cubical, the first few people only pausing to look at the number before moving on. By this time the other subs have all started fidgeting slightly as well, so far unnoticed by slapper.

The next person who visits walks down the rows, grabbing a few heads to force the targeted sub to look up, but he soon leaves, apparently not finding what he wants. This is repeated a few times, but thankfully Blaine isn’t touched by anyone. Nick however isn’t so lucky, and gets man handled by almost every visitor. By the sixth person Blaine can see Nick straining not lash out, and by the seventh he does.

The current offender had squatted down so he was only slightly taller than Nick, and grabbed the hair on the back of his head to yank it at uncomfortable angles.

“Kneel up toy.” The man instructs, pulling once again on Nicks hair. Slowly he obeys, taking as much time as he can to move the short distance, agitating the man. “Not bad.” He says, reaching his hand out to touch Nick’s cock.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Nick shouts. The man pauses briefly, then while still holding Nick’s head with one hand, proceeds to slap his face repeatedly. Fortunately slapper notices the event and walks over, asking the man to stop. He walks to the exit of the cubical with slapper, allowing Nick to slump back down. Blaine sends his friend a supportive smile.

A few minutes later slapper walks over, having just finished the discussion with the horrid man, and stops in front of Nick.

“What do you think you were doing? Do the rules not count for you? He was perfectly within his right to check you out, that’s why you are here! We don’t like having to discipline you in front of people; it lowers your value if people see you being punished while still being in such a controlled environment. That doesn’t mean we won’t if we need to. You talk out of turn again and you will be gagged for the rest of the day. And don’t think this means you are cleared, this will be brought up once everyone has left.” With that slapper returns to her previous position, sending a quick message through the radio she is carrying.

“Breathe, Nick. Please. We will talk this evening.” Blaine whispers, luckily only being overheard by Tina.


 

As the day progresses more people appear, but thankfully none of them as handsy. At mid-day everyone vanishes, and a naked Santana appears – as well as other collared subs he hasn’t seen before - to give them all a drink and escort them to the toilet. Blaine wonders why these subs are trusted with this job when there are so many important people around that need to be ‘impressed’. But then again, maybe they are impressed by the fact that these subs are trained well enough to be given such a responsible job. Surprisingly even Nick doesn’t put up a fight while unchained with no guards around. Blaine thinks the earlier threat has affected him more than he lets on.

Although once they had returned from the toilet they had been rechained, no one told them to be on their knees or to stay silent, so of course they had took the opportunity to rest their legs. Eventually slapper returns and orders them all back onto their knees and into silence.

After lunch continues much like before but just with more people – between 7 and 15 people in their cubical at one time. Blaine also sees some people in collars walking around, trailing someone else, some on leads and some simply following. He assumes these are subs and their owners, here to either be exchanged or simply because their owners decided to bring them for the trip.

After lunch is the first time people start paying much notice to him. A few people asking him to kneel up, and even a few asking him to stand before walking all the way round him. Luckily no one try’s to touch him like they did Nick, he isn’t sure what his reaction would be in that situation and doesn’t really want to find out. One person does start yanking him around a bit, poking and prodding him, but slapper notices and speaks up.

“Just be careful, Hunter has his eye on that one.”

“Why?” The man questions, having stopped touching Blaine but not yet looking away.

“I’m not sure to be honest. The man took a liking to it on the first day and has even started saving up. It’s going to be an expensive one, I know that much.”

“I guess I need to start saving now as well then if I want a chance of winning it. Have you done your approximations on them yet?” He asks slapper, turning away. Blaine takes that as his cue to sit back down, hopefully taking him out of the lime light.

“Nope.” She replies, popping the p. “But I’ve heard Hunter is planning to set aside forty thousand from wages and savings each month, so I’m thinking he is going to reach the half million mark. I don’t know why yet though, it’s not been here long enough for us to know how well behaved it really is.”

“Ouch. That’s twice as much as I paid for the last new one.” The man pauses and looks down at Blaine. “If he trains up as well as my last one though, he will likely be worth every dollar.” The man sighs. “Would you do part exchanges?” He says, leaving the cubical to discuss more with slapper. Blaine sees Nick in his peripheral vision staring. He looks up and shrugs slightly, not sure what to make of the information himself.

Only a few minutes later another pair of feet stops in front of him. He takes a deep breath preparing for another examination. What happens next shocks him.

Chapter Text

“Blaine? Nick?” A voice he recognises asks.

“Trent.” He breathes. Blaine and Nick both look up to see Trent and Jeff. He can’t process it, his friends here to see Nick and himself, there can’t be another reason as both boys are against the sub system. Unfortunately, slapper had been walking behind him when they both looked up.

“I’ve told you both already to behave.” She hisses into their ears, grabbing the backs of both their heads and pushing them down. “This will be dealt with later, you can count on it.” Standing up she addresses the two boys. “Sorry gentlemen. These two have been causing issues all day. You look like this is your first auction, would you like me to show you where the ones for sale today are? We have a year until these products are for sale, you don’t want to wait that long.”

“Umm, no thanks. Umm, these are the ones we were looking for.” Jeff stutters, not really sure how he should be acting. Slapper makes a sound as if to say suit yourself and leaves. Keeping his head down, Blaine raises his eyes to watch the two boys.

“Wow, this is so much worse than I was expecting.” Trent is the first to speak. “It’s barbaric! You are just as human as the rest of us! Is this how you are treated the whole time?” He asks.

“Yes sir.” Blaine says, not knowing if slapper is in hearing range.

“Blaine, it’s us.” Jeff states. “I’m not a sir to you, I’m your friend. I feel awkward enough standing here clothed with you two kneeling naked.” Blaine looks down, not sure what to say.

“We… we are not meant to talk.” Nick whispers, so quietly Blaine almost can’t hear him. Jeff does though.

“Oh. Okay. Um. Well. I guess we will just talk at you then?”

“What Jeff is trying to say is we have a plan.” Trent starts, Jeff nodding along. “After Jeff saw Blaine at the OSO office, and you told us Nick was there as well, we have been thinking and planning.”

“We spoke to the other Warblers first.” Jeff continues, as though they had rehearsed who would say what. “And then we went to your parents and the rest of Dalton.”

“And we are all going to be saving absolutely every coin we can. We are going to do performances to raise extra money, the lacrosse team are going to do charity matches, anything we can do we will. Everyone is on board, we want you both back.”

“And by back, we don’t mean as slaves.” Jeff takes over. “We mean we want our friends back. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be able to legally attend school or travel where ever you want on your own, but there is nothing stopping you from living with us two in our dorms if we are listed as your owners. Both your parents agree it might be better for you to stay with us, although it is up to you of course, as that way you won’t be stuck on your own all day, instead you will be able to see any of the guys when you feel like it. Also, and kind of why we are here and not your parents, they didn’t think you would want them to see you like this, and they want to remember you as the happy private school boys.”

“We have checked with the principle, and although he hasn’t had anything like this happen before, he is willing to let you attend classes if you want to, off the radar and you won’t get a qualification, but the option is there. We have still got to think everything through of course, as the past week and a bit we have just been trying to make sure it is possible, we wanted to visit you as soon as we could, but we didn’t want to bring false hope.” Trent adds.

“Wow.” Blaine gawks, eyes starting to swell with tears. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I love you Jeff. I love you so much right now.” Nick cries. Blaine looks over to him, he didn’t realise the two where an item.

“I love you too Nicky. I promise we will get you out, both of you. Just keep your head down for the year and stay safe, and it will all be ok!”

“Thanks Jeff, Trent. Tell everyone thanks.” Nick says, Blaine nodding in agreement. Unfortunately, slapper had heard the last sentence, and seen both the boys looking up.

“Hello again gentlemen.” She says, making Nick and Blaine jump. Instantly they both drop their heads, knowing they are in huge trouble for talking and looking up once again. Blaine hopes she didn’t hear much of the conversation. “I’m going to have to ask you to move on now please. I need to have a word with these two subs, since apparently they both suffer with short term memory loss. If you would like to head over to the catering area, I’ve heard the dessert dishes are out now.” With one last look, Trent and Jeff regretfully leave. Slapper turns her attention to Blaine and Nick.

“You dirty fags.” She hisses. “Have I not told you both already today to not talk out of turn?”

“But it wasn’t out of turn-“ Nick starts, silenced by a slap.

“You have just earnt so much more trouble for yourself by talking back. Now, I didn’t hear the whole conversation, but you boys will tell me when we are on our own later. I’ve already called someone to bring over a couple of gags, but this will just be the start. You will both seriously regret today by the end of it.” She straightens herself up as another guard appears, as promised with two gags. Slapper picks up one and bends down to push it into Blaine’s mouth. He opens his jaw without any retaliation, not wanting to make whatever is already instore any worse. The ball feels almost the same size as a tennis ball, although Blaine knows it can’t be since it just fits in his mouth, albeit uncomfortably. Slapper does the strap up a lot tighter than it needs to be, but apart from an involuntary gasp, Blaine doesn’t object.

“Now you can sit here quietly for the rest of the day and behave.” Slapper says as she retreats. Blaine looks at Tina and Brittany out of the corner of his eyes, and sees both girls are also on the verge of crying, having been able to hear everything that happened. He drops his head once more, and doesn’t do anything for the rest of the afternoon.

Chapter Text

After a few hours most people had disappeared, Blaine assumes it was because the actual auction was finally starting. He can’t comprehend why there were so many people looking around, and why some of them arrived so early, when the auction lasted only about an hour. He supposes a lot of the visitors are those incredibly rich individuals, who only show up to show off their status, many of them not truly interested in the main event.

During the hour break they were given, Blaine and Nick were not ungagged. Instead they sat in silence, shifting positions temporarily so the pressure on their knees reduced while they could get away with having their legs crossed or laid down (both positions Blaine tried, only to shortly become restless with the tug on his collar he was causing himself).

Once the actual auction had inevitably ended, Slapper was correct in predicting they would become more popular. Blaine was touched by numerous hands until he felt like he was nothing more than a slab of meat. Several times Slapper had to chase off guys who were slightly drunk, trying to untie the gag and get him to give them a blow job. They never made it past the initial sneering luckily, however Blaine wasn’t relieved for long when Slapper simply told the guys that if they wanted to ‘trial’ they would have to head to 6+ sub areas, and arrange a time slot with the guards over there. It appeared although he was free from the obligation today, in 5 months’ time he wouldn’t be.

He also had several people asking why he or Nick were gagged, and once Slapper told an abbreviated version (so not to bring into doubt the effectiveness of the training scheme), they appeared to lose all interest in both boys. It was a small blessing of a side effect.

As the night started to die down, people having either gone home or moved to hunt out more ‘gettable’ targets, a couple of extra guards walked over before Slapper addressed them as a group.

“Ok. You all – well, most of you – are done for the night now. We are going to take you back to your cell and cages, and from in there you will be informed on what will happen next.” She says, primarily directed at Blaine and Nick.

The guards make their rounds, unclipping the leads from each collar. Even though Blaine is one of the first to be unhooked, he waits for the others to move before he does, shyly following the rest of the group as they are led back to their cell, Nick at his side. Some of his rebellious attitude has subsided since the visit from Jeff and Trent; Blaine just hopes it will last.

Finally, they arrive back at the cell. Nick and Blaine the last ones to enter, trying to prolong the inevitable. They walk in and come face to face with an incredibly angry Slapper.

“You sluts. Knees. Now.” She sneers, scarily quiet. Blaine ungracefully drops down instantly, stiff from being in such a strenuous position all day. Nick objects a few moments, but seems to think better of it and eventually also drops to his knees next to Blaine. Slapper noticed the delay, but doesn’t pick Nick out on it, instead turning to address the others. “In the cages straight away. Since I have to deal with these two whores, I don’t think the rest of you deserve to all relax together. The cages get cleaned out daily if you need to relieve yourselves.” Blaine sees the slight confusion and struggle as the subs on the top row try to hoist themselves up with their hands locked behind their backs still. Slapper turns her attention back to Nick and Blaine.

“I… I don’t even know where to start with you two. Answering back, talking out of turn, and simply not following the rules. You are an embarrassment to this entire establishment. We have never had someone behave like that at the auctions before, let alone two of you! Now which one of you is going to tell me exactly what was just so important you had to knowingly ignore every rule?” Nick drops his head further, knowing they couldn’t tell the truth, but luckily Blaine had spent some time coming up with an alibi. He raises his eyebrow challengingly, not able to talk with the gag in.

“Don’t be so arrogant.” She says, leaning down to remove his gag. “We will get that whipped out of you soon enough.” Blaine flinches, hoping she doesn’t plan on whipping them both for the days’ events; Nick wouldn’t be able to withstand that again so soon, the previous marks still unhealed. Slapper removes the gag painfully, yanking it out before he properly releases it from between his teeth.

“They, they were bullies from our old life,” He starts, faking shyness. “They were taunting us. Say… saying that they were happy someone was finally putting us in our place. That they were saving up, going to buy us in a year. And that our friends also agreed and were going to help save up, to tease us more so with how different our lives now are. That, that they would have complete control over us, body and mind, and we would be able to watch how our life could have been if we weren’t such filthy fucking faggots.” He cringes at the words, although made up they still hurt. “It, it really struck a chord with us both, and we were unable to stay impassive.” He is glad he had rehearsed the speech.

He looks out the corner of his eye to Nick, and is grateful to see his friend nodding along to his made up story, and thankfully not too upset with the words Blaine said – although Blaine was impressed with the alliteration that he came up with.

“And why did I hear you thanking them?” Blaine breathes a silent sigh of relief, expecting this question.

“Because what else were we meant to say? We… we thought you wanted us to be polite to the hums, and it was only slightly sarcastic, so better than full out rudeness. And maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be completely awful being in an environment we are used to, it would make it easier to adjust.” Blaine really deserves an award for his acting skills. Slapper looks slightly skeptical, but after weighing the pros and cons of his response, she seems happy enough to accept his reply.

“I’m even feeling slightly sorry for you right now. But then again, you are subs, so that feeling has passed. I don’t think you really understand what that means yet; being a sub. So let me tell you. It means you aren’t people, you don’t have opinions or emotions. At least none that matter! You simply do as you are told, go where you are ordered. You don’t object, you don’t think, you just do. I couldn’t care less about what you would feel if you were bought by your old school bullies, as long as they find you worth their money.” She stops, thinking. “What’s going to happen is, you will stay here tonight, and some time tomorrow someone will come and get you. You are not going to get whipped, although by the end of the day you will wish you had. You stay in your cage until someone comes to get you. Understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Blaine replies, Nick nodding in agreement.

“9103, cage now. 5226, gag back on then cage.” She orders.


 

When they are woken up in the morning, it’s by a guard rather than a sub. Blaine assumes it will be a while before clothed subs start reappearing; all the ones returned and exchanged last night were auctioned off at the same time. Blaine didn’t see any of it, but could hear what was happening.

The guard unlocks all the cages but his and Nick’s, nd without a word they all leave, Nick and Blaine left behind. Nick looks at Blaine, raising his eyebrow and titling his head in question. Blaine doesn’t have an answer, and instead decides to lie back down and aim to bag a bit more sleep.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed since the morning, only that he is woken up by being dragged out of his cage. He tries to object, but encounters the gag in his mouth, rendering him unable to talk. Which considering his current situation, it is probably a good thing he wasn’t able to shout out. The guard that drags him out is another he hasn’t seen before. Like all the others he is tall, but incredibly so. While the guard drags him and Nick – who he pulled out first – down the corridors, Blaine tries to come up with a nickname to calm his nerves. Better to do something meaningless than to focus on what might happen soon.

By the time they arrive at their destination – another new room – Blaine has decided on the unimaginative name of Stretch. He has a large repertoire of short nicknames, having been called a lot of them himself, but nothing fun for tall people.

Blaine takes a moment to look around the room. It looks almost like a classroom, different to the empty rooms he has been taken to the last few days. There are two rows of benches, one behind the other, with padded cushions abandoned on the floor behind them. Blaine realizes the tall benches are at the ideal height for someone kneeling at them, and concludes these are in fact tables for subs. At the front of the room is desk, and an old fashioned projector, currently displaying a man in a strenuous bondage position. In a different circumstance, an alternative universe, Blaine thinks he would find that position enjoyable, however he is too worried with what this situation will lead to that his cock remains flaccid. Stretch notices that Blaine has his attention on the board.

“You will become friends with that position. We normally just show diagrams for subs to learn from, but today you are both going to be my models. That way we have better understood subs, and you won’t be missing much from the training you would have been getting if you didn’t-“ He pauses, interrupting himself. “What did you do? I didn’t get told?” Neither Blaine nor Nick wants to offer an answer, and thankfully Stretch doesn’t push it, likely because they are both still gagged anyway. “Never mind. I never get told anything here anyway. I’m just here to make sure subs don’t put themselves in unnecessary danger.” Blaine notices Stretch looks resentful about that.

Stretch walks over to the desk and picks up two long poles, which Blaine recognizes from his late night internet searches as a spreader bar. They are both identical, about 3 foot long, have thick leather cuffs at each end, and a chain hanging down from the middle. Blaine looks away in an attempt to picture himself elsewhere. Without a word, Stretch squats down in front of Blaine and cuffs his left leg, just above the ankle, tight enough so it will not cause chaffing. He taps the inside of Blaine’s right knee, and getting the prompt he reluctantly spreads his legs slightly, hating how exposed the position makes him.

“Further than that.” Stretch commands. Blaine looks down as he moves his leg once more, and is shocked to see how long the pole is up close. He moves his leg so it is level with the lose end, at which point he also meets the maximum limit of his flexibility. He is worried he is going to end up pulling a muscle. Stretch seems to be aware of his inner thoughts as he says, “I suggest that in the evenings you do some stretches. If this is all you can go you’re going to be in for a lot of pain later on.” Blaine was one of the more flexible members of the Warblers; he doesn’t want to think about what could be in store if he needs to be more malleable.

Once his other leg is cuffed, Stretch picks up the chain hooked in the middle and reaches for Blaine’s collar, pulling it down and causing him to bend forwards at the waist. He clips the loose end of the chain to the small hook on his collar, the one at the front shared with the tag. Stretch then moves to repeat the process with Nick before walking out, leaving both Blaine and Nick gagged, legs stretched, bent slightly at the waist, and hands still cuffed behind them.

Chapter Text

Only a short amount of time passed before people starting appearing. By people, Blaine meant naked subs. There were twelve in total, all kneeling behind the bench/table like Blaine had expected. Only a few looked at Blaine and Nick as they entered, the rest completely ignoring their existence. Blaine assumes these subs have been here a couple of months, still not yet ‘programmed’ to act completely robotically, but having been here long enough to know the rules and for majority, not questioning the change. They sit there in absolute silence, heads down and hands palm down on the bench in front, waiting for Stretch to enter the room and all but ignoring Blaine and Nick. He feels like an object on display, no way to maintain a slight bit of modesty and no way to move of his own free will. He feels the blood flow to his dick increasing at the vulnerability, and starts thinking of as many cold shower images as he can. His old football coach ruthlessly butchering meat seems to do the trick. After several more minutes pass, Stretch returns, striding into the room.

“Ok. Gags. Your master may use them for many different things: as a punishment, for on display, for sex, and so on. You will get to see them in action today as we have models rather than just the projector.” He addresses the other subs as though Blaine and Nick can’t hear him.

“You will likely recognize the current ones as simple ball gags, albeit larger than you might have seen before.” He says, completely ignoring the fact that both boys can hear him. “These are primarily used in the bedroom, although once this size it tends to be for punishment. They do affect the ease of breathing, so when made to wear one you need to keep your nasal passage clear. They – and other types of gags - also can cause vomiting if they activate the gag reflex, so you will have to once again remember your training on that.” Blaine’s breathing starts to increase;, he didn’t realise gags could be so dangerous. He hasn’t had any training on gag reflex, so does that mean he is going to suffocate himself? Surely there are enough people here to notice if he starts struggling to breathe? But then again, they are very nonchalant when it comes to the death of subs.

The more he panics, the more drool he produces, until he watches a very embarrassing drop fall to the floor, helpless to stop it. To make the embarrassment even higher, he feels once again his cock starting to rise, wanting its own attention from the audience. He hates that it seems to enjoy the embarrassment – since his mind certainly doesn’t – and thinks he will end up hard for the whole lesson. Even the thoughts of his coach doesn’t seem to be deterring it this time.

Stretch pauses in his pacing, noticing the small puddle, and pulls out a tissue from his pocket to wipe it up. However from his position, Blaine’s hard on is directly in his line of sight, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. On his assent to standing, Stretch hangs the cloth from his protruding dick. He starts trying to do math equations to take his mind off his misbehaving anatomy.

“And drool is a problem. I advise trying not to swallow it as that can also lead to gagging, however with most masters you will get in trouble for dribbling everywhere, so try to either have a tissue with you or access to a sink if you are able to create a seal with your lips.” 57 times by 89. 5073. 754 divided by 26. 29. Why is it that the only time he actually needs math, it doesn’t help? Then again, his maths teacher was pretty hot, so maybe he isn’t really focusing on the equation part. ‘Bad Blaine’s brain’ he thinks to himself, he is really not helping his own situation. The tissue that was precariously balanced on a half dick is now comfortably resting on Blaine’s fully hard length.

Stretch walks over to the desk and returns with something else, undoing the buckle on the ball gag he replaces it with a new object. There are two pieces of metal clasped in between Blaine’s lips, seemingly only help by his teeth, and held together by something wrapped in a spring. Blaine opens his mouth again to try and rid himself of the object simply held in by his own lips, but instead the spring decompresses, opening the same distance as his mouth. When he tries to shut his mouth he can’t, the object having locked itself at the new height.

“This one is possibly my favorite.” Stretch continues, chuckling at Blaine. Once again he tries to open his mouth, this time quicker, only to – once again – have the object adjust its distance. “Each time you open your mouth, the gag goes with it. Once open, it can only be decompressed by an external force.” Stretch pushes on the two protruding bits of metal, and the device compresses once more. Blaine doesn’t shut his mouth with it, not wanting to be in the same situation, but after a glare from the guard, he seals his lips round it once more. Blaine continues fighting against it as Stretch starts talking, ignoring what is being said in favor of trying to rid himself of the object. Once again, as he opens his mouth, only for it to be jacked open by the tiny piece of metal. Such a simple looking device, but Blaine is rendered unable to do anything about it. It seems a common occurrence at the sub house, little things stopping the slightest resistance, purely for the purpose of belittling him. He tries again to rid the object, this time with a plan. He brings his tongue forwards so it is against the spring slightly separating the two horizontal rods, and prepares to use his tongue to remove the object while opening his mouth fast, pushing it out before it has chance to decompress.

He wishes his reaction time was faster, as no sooner had he opened his mouth, the bar went with it, almost as though it was attached to his jaw. Instead he is stuck with his mouth held open much wider than it is comfortable. He zones in to hear what Stretch is now saying, but not relenting in his attempts to remove the gag.

“For most masters, this will be used either as a punishment for talking, or when you go out so are on display. Few will use it in the bedroom as they can cause injury to themselves if it flies loose. Speaking of injury, if you try to spit it out, you are likely to knock a tooth out or spilt your lip, as 5226 is going to end up doing.” Blaine stops, feeling like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Stretch tuts. “You caused this, I helped out the last time, you’re going to have to stay like that this time.” He strides over to the desk and picks up another new object, this one also made mostly of metal bars, then heads to Nick. Blaine looks forwards and sees all the subs are watching intently.

“This tends to be used for punishment, and although it’s not limited to it, I haven’t seen them used for other purposes before.” Stretch unbuckles Nick’s gag and holds the new, complicated, devise up for the other subs to see. “This is called a lip and tongue press, and is pretty brutal. 9103, I need you to pout.” When Nick doesn’t, Stretch simply grabs Nick’s lower lip and pulls it forwards. He then pulls Nick’s lip through a gap between two of the four horizontal bars, before twisting a couple of the vertical bars, causing the gap to decrease and squash Nick’s lower lip. “It is much better if you comply when being put into this devise; the edges of the bars are rough, so pulling against them will have a sand paper effect.” Blaine sees Nick in his peripheral vision, glaring daggers at Stretch, who is completely ignoring him.

“Now the tongue goes through the middle gap and it is tightened into place,” Stretch demonstrates. “And finally the top lip goes through the final gap at the top. These can of course be adjusted to be different distances apart, varying the tightness of it. They are incredibly abrasive, so if you do think it is a clever idea to pull yourself out of it, you will lose a few layers of skin, simple as. Also, if they are done up tight, they will limit the blood flow and cause circulation problems. The only way you will be able to limit that is by keeping your lips warm, or trying to move them slightly to let the blood flow. In other words, behave so your master doesn’t feel the need to do it up tightly for extended periods of time.”

The time drags on, Stretch using countless different gags on each of the subs, alternating between the two of them. Eventually, after various gags ranging from bridles to inflatable, Stretch inserts a simple ball gag, smaller than the one before and this time with holes in, making breathing much easier. He dismisses the rest of the subs, clearing away the items on his desk as they leave. Once all the gags have been wiped clean and placed in a box, the guard pulls out more items before heading over to the pair of remaining subs.

“The rest have left for lunch, so I am too. But you still need to remain almost in an isolation state, so I have got some toys especially for you.” He grins, shaking his left hand containing two strips of fabric, and two noise cancelling earmuffs. A shiver runs down Blaine’s spine, worry about the sensory deprivation items. “Both kneel. We don’t want you falling over due to feeling disorientated.” He chuckles. Blaine looks around in a mix of panic and confusion, unsure how he is meant to lower himself to his knees with a spreader bar limiting his movement, his hands behind his back, and his neck pulled downwards. His center of gravity is already causing him to be precariously balanced, without having to move. He sees Nick is thinking the same thing, but looking back to Stretch he realizes there isn’t a way out of this.

He starts to squat down, trying to maintain his balance, and to his surprise he succeeds. Once he is as low as he can, he angles his hips forwards to lower his knees to the floor. He lands heavily, sending a jolt through his bones, but is otherwise unharmed. Watching Nick start to descend, following the method Blaine discovered, he smirks to himself. Nick isn’t quite as graceful or as well balanced as Blaine, causing him to fall before he is even half way down. He hears Stretch chuckle, but is stopped when he tries to look by the chain linking his collar to the bar.

“That was much better than I was expecting, well done subs,” he says from somewhere above Blaine as a piece of fabric enters his vision. It is a simple strip of fabric, nothing as high tech as some of the gags used, Blaine thinks it might have been a scarf when it was in its prime condition, but now looks little more than a rag. Stretch knots it behind his head, not too tight to cause pain but enough so Blaine wouldn’t be able to shake it off. It completely blocks his vision, and almost eliminates all light in the room. There is a slight gap at the bottom allowing Blaine to peak, but Stretch must have a sixth sense because it is soon gone. Next the bulky earmuffs are placed over Blaine’s ears, effectively blocking out all sound. He feels panic starting to rise slightly as Stretch pushes his head forwards until it is in contact with the floor. However once his head is on the ground the panic slowly decreases again, the dizziness caused by the disorientation reduced with the extra contact point.

Blaine has no ability to track the passing of time. His knees start going numb and his back aches from the strain. He keeps shifting slightly to try and get into a more comfortable position, but doesn’t dare move too much in case he accidentally over balances and causes himself more injury.

Blaine is sure it can’t be much longer until someone returns. He got the impression that it was only a lunch break and then the same subs would be returning, and he could have sworn that it had been longer than the time he is normally allowed for lunch. But then again, without use of any of his senses, he couldn’t really guesstimate at how long it had been. And for all he knows, they could have returned already and he is sat in a room surrounded by people. Panic starts slowly making itself known, and he has to do everything within his power to not have a full freak out.

Chapter Text

Finally – long enough for his cock to return to a less embarrassing position - Blaine feels a hand on his back, making him jump. He relaxes into the touch, feeling much more secure knowing he is no longer alone in the room – well, he assumes Nick is also next to him, but if he was to start choking on his gag and needed someone to prevent him from dying, Nick wouldn’t be able to help, so he doesn’t count. The hand is removed, taking away the little comfort it provided, so Blaine goes searching for it. However he forgot his collar was tied to the spreader bar, and before he has moved any measurable distance the collar is restricting his already limited breathing, as well as agitating the brand on his neck.

Soon the hand is back, and more time passes without his situation being changed; still unable to hear or see but at least knowing he is likely to be in the room surrounded by subs once again. Being able to picture the room also helps settle him, feeling more comfortable in his surroundings. The next time the hand moves, it also pulls the earmuffs and blindfold off in one motion.

“Ok. We are going to get you in a different position for this next bit,” he hears Stretch say, although he is out of Blaine’s vision. Gently pulling at the chain, he looks up and confirms his suspicions, the subs all back in the same positions as before. He feels the cuff on his right leg being undone and removed, his left leg closely followed. Blaine is unnerved, worry once again working its way back to the forefront of his mind. Is the next position going to be better or worse than before?

“Kneel up.” Stretch commands. Blaine does, less than gracefully, stiff from the position. “Sometimes this device is used instead of a spreader bar, however not often enough for us to usually bother mentioning it. But today, since I am using it anyway, I will talk through it.” The device Stretch is holding looks like a leather harness, with two large cuffs dangling down. Blaine can’t figure out how exactly the harness will work or fit on him.

“This unbuckles in lots of different places, so there are many ways to put it on. However this way is possibly the most common.” He drops it over Blaine’s head so that there is a strap laying over each shoulder, and one across his chest connecting them together. Stretch buckles up some clips behind him, allowing Blaine to feel how they link in a cross like manor behind him, all meeting between his shoulder blades, leaving one strap on either side below his armpits still dangling loosely. Stretch then adjusts the harness by tightening the various straps until it fits in a way Blaine can only describe as snuggly. He finds it oddly comforting, almost as though the straps are hugging him and holding him together. He relaxes into it, willing to take comfort in anyway way he can, preparing for what is undoubtedly still to come.

“As you can see,” Stretch starts, seemingly distantly. “Some subs find the harness calming. Stand and turn around for a moment.” Blaine shakenly rises, struggling to pay attention to anything more than Stretch’s words. Once turned around, Blaine feels his wrist cuffs separated, before being individually latched onto a hook near the cross, pulling his arms up at a slightly unusual angle. He rolls his shoulders gently to find a more comfortable position.

Next he feels a leather band placed around his left thigh, closer to his knee than his hip. He watches Stretch tighten the buckle on the leather. It’s not tight enough to cut the circulation, but without the use of his hands there is no way to make it move – even with the use of his hands he doesn’t think he would. A second cuff is placed in an identical position on his right leg, and tightened slightly more than the last; Blaine thinks accidentally. Once done Stretch stands back slightly to admire his work, before adjusting a few more straps, and correcting the tightness of the two matching leg cuffs. Blaine becomes unnerved by the predatory look in Stretch’s eyes. He believes Stretch might also be enjoying the sight of the harnessed sub, which jolts him into full awareness. There is no way he can be feeling content, bound like this for anyone to do as they please. He doesn’t even like when someone leads him by his hand, preferring to be the leader than leadee, so there is no way – No Way – he can be enjoying this lack of control.

“Sit with your back leaning against the wall, bum on the floor a small distance forwards,” Stretch orders, and Blaine obeys reluctantly. Once sat, the two free straps are clipped to the corresponding leg cuffs, and then pulled tight as Stretch pulls part of the strap through a couple of tight loops, causing the length to shorten. He doesn’t stop pulling when Blaine’s leg starts to lift off the floor, and continues until the strap is as short as Blaine’s flexibility allows, both legs suspended towards his chest in a sling like manor. He is left balanced on the very rear of his backside, distributing some of the weight against the wall, with his crotch very much on display to the on looking subs. Once again, the humiliating position becomes even more intense as he recently flaccid cock starts to rise. The tedious process is then repeated with Nick, until he is in the same position. However whereas Blaine took comfort in the snug fit, Nick appears almost claustrophobic in the thin straps, although both feeling as though they would rather be doing anything but this.

“I am going to go through cock and ball torture first, and then moving to the ass holes. Firstly, a humbler,” Stretch says on his way once again to the desk, pulling another item out of the seemingly bottomless drawer. “The main purpose of a humbler is to restrict your movement, pulling your knees to your chest and causing you have to crawl to be able to move, however that will quickly become painful from the pressure. As you can see, from the position these two are in, it will not serve its purpose, but you will still be able to see how it works.” Stretch bends down in front of Blaine, taking Blaine’s ball sack into his hands and placing them between two indents in the wooden humbler. He then strokes his hand from base to head of Blaine’s cock, teasingly. To his horror, his body lets out a moan without his permission. “Good boy,” Stretch drawls. Blaine feels the remaining available blood rush to his cheeks, red from embarrassment. He isn’t enjoying this, how could he enjoy this! But now Stretch and every other sub will think he is. Even with the gag being made to make breathing slightly easier, he can’t seem to catch his breath. Fortunately Stretch has better things to do, and leaves him alone. Although Blaine can see the effort it took for him to be self-disciplined enough to do it. Then again, he sees naked subs running around every day, being tortured and trained in the art of sex, if he gets one in front of him literally moaning for his touch, it will take a fair amount of control to continue with work.

“This object clamps around your balls,” Stretch addressed the rest of the subs, turning his back to Blaine and allowing him to panic in privacy. “And then it is left to rest behind your legs, hence the shape. If you stay still, like is happening here, they shouldn’t cause any pain, only mild discomfort. If you straighten your legs, it will pull the humbler away from your body and Stretch your balls. However,” he pauses, picking something up of the floor Blaine didn’t previously notice. “Weights can be added to simulate the pull your legs could cause, like so.” Blaine sees Stretch approaching, and puts two and two together to work out what is about to happen. He tries kicking his legs out, but due to the angle the sling is holding his thighs, he doesn’t get anywhere close to hindering the evil man. He feels an instant sharp tug on his balls, the added weight having not been lowered gently. He groans in pain into the gag still left in. However looking up, he realises his pained noise didn’t sound that way. Everyone in the room is likely thinking Blaine is getting off on the pain and humiliation, which he isn’t. No way is he enjoying the spectacle, basically being raped by sex toys. Although looking down at his dick, he has a feeling it disagrees. He needs to get his erection to soften, to show the others – and reassure himself – that he is not a slutty whore. He decides to bring out the big guns, something that always helps him cool off. The vaginas. He pictures them with teeth, giant bodies of their own, walking towards him. “This devise, and all cock and ball torture – also known as CBT – devises are why it is important you are completely clean shaven. Get a hair caught in this and you will be in for trouble,” Stretch continues, ignorant to Blaine’s inner turmoil.

He leaves Blaine with the weight on the humbler, and starts talking about the next device on his way to the stash of items to torture Blaine and Nick with, hidden within the desk. More saliva starts building up in his mouth, and even though a lot of it is dribbling through his gag, it is affecting his ability to breathe.

“Most of you will know what this is. A cock ring…” He holds the thick metal ring up. Blaine does a double take, seeing the metal spikes on the inside. “…with a difference. Mostly used for torture, this is a simple one with only 5 adjustable spikes, but normally masters would prefer to use 28 spiked ones, which are also a lot wider.” He approaches Nick, who was already trying to roll away. “I was going to leave them loose for the purpose of this, but I think I have changed my mind,” he hisses, grabbing Nick’s collar and attaching the ring. Once it is clasped on, Stretch removes his hand from Nick’s collar, and uses it to twist the protruding spikes, lowering them one by one into Nick’s length. When the one from last is being done up, Nick hisses slightly at the discomfort, but other than that shows no recognition of it even being there, instead focusing on trying to lash out at the guard, who like with Blaine, simply side steps out of reach.

“There isn’t too much to say on this. Some rings do not adjust like this one, and can instead simply be pushed and released with a grip around it, so when in them I suggest trying not to put added pressure. And once you are released from it you should wash and disinfect the area, as some times they break the skin and you don’t want to get an infection. As a warning, we don’t treat infections here, so if you get sent back because of it, I can guarantee you will not be at the next auction. So let’s move on,” he says, disappearing into one of the drawers. Blaine watches Nick, trying to read what his next move will be. Instead he sees the back of Nick’s head, having turned away from everyone else. He decides to turn his attention back to Stretch in worry, knowing this next item will be for him. In Stretch’s hand, he is flourishing a row of rings, each hanging from a leather strip, equal distances apart.

“This is called the gates of hell, although I don’t personally see what is so hellish about it.” He mused. He unscrews the humbler, causing Blaine to let out an audible sigh of relief despite his better judgment. Stretch lets the noise pass without a comment, however with his cock being fondled, threaded through the line of rings, even the thoughts of human eating vaginas aren’t enough to keep it at bay.

“This is mostly used as chastity, due to the large ring, but some masters will use it for display, liking the effect it has. This one however has a ring larger than the rest, which also goes around the balls, stopping ejaculation without permission – also known as being removed.” As he says this, Blaine feels his balls starting to be yanked through the inelastic ring painfully. Vaginas may not be working, but that seemed to help a bit with softening his length. And at least with it on he can’t ‘erupt’, so that’s one less embarrassing event.

“The last two rings of the seven ring device are smaller than the others, but not restrictive. Much. Sometimes there will be an extra ring at the top which a lead can be clipped to; sometimes they will be straps rather than rings. Sometimes rope might be used rather than a proper devise, and if ropes are used, try to cause as little movement between them to prevent rope burn. Obviously, everyone is a different size, and your master may be using the wrong size. If this is the case, and the circulation is interrupted, you should point it out in whatever manor they prefer you to communicate, although you will likely be told to walk it off. Most important thing with this device is to not catch it on anything, as it will be painful if it gets wrenched unpredictably…”

Stretch continues talking, but Blaine shuts him out. He discovers a way to be able to block out his surroundings, not necessarily by picturing being elsewhere, but just shutting his mind down completely. He knows more devices are placed on him. Some clip on, some screw on, and some even hold on by suction, but it all passed in a blur.

He came back to himself when Stretch brought two of the other subs to the front. He had no idea what was happening, and feels unsafe with the new strangers near him. He thinks he must have missed some instruction as while one of the subs make his way towards Nick, the female one walks towards him. Blaine expects he would be about four inches taller than her if he was stood up, and despite obviously being a sub, she doesn’t carry herself that way. The most noticeable feature is her nose; he can’t really describe it, seemingly narrow at the bridge and considerably wider at the base. He thinks it suits her.

However all thoughts of the girls appearance disappear as she kneels down in front of him with no hesitation while sucking on two of her fingers, before painfully pushing the slick finger up his ass. He hisses out around the ball gag, not used to the painful intrusion.

“Now you need to keep wiggling until there is enough space to get the next finger in.” Stretch instructs lazily from his position perched on the desk. The girl in front of him looks very determined, focused purely on her job. Before he deems himself ready, the girl inserts her second finger, which during the time she has been there, has already dried. This time his hiss of protest is louder, thrashing out in the aim of throwing the girl of balance and causing her fingers to slide out.

However his plan back fires, instead of being rid of the girl, he causes her finger to be placed in the exact correct position to rub against his prostate. He involuntarily moans round the gag, pleasure coursing through his body in waves. He looks around in panic, hoping no one else heard his little ‘moment’. He isn’t so lucky.

“You will make a good little whore; no wonder Hunter is after you. You will fetch us a pretty penny at auction!” Stretch purred, setting Blaine on edge. He didn’t need to be reminded of Hunter, knowing Jeff and Trent will be bidding against him. He just hopes Nick is put up for auction first so they don’t blow their money on him, especially if Nick and Jeff are together, he would rather them be able to reunite than to forever feel guilty of getting in their way. Speaking of Nick, he looks over to see how his friend is dealing with his own invasion.

He is shocked by his discovery. Nick is dribbling heavily though the gag, thrashing around against the hand holding him, the other hand hidden between his legs. He is surprised he didn’t hear Nick, as now he has noticed him, Blaine can’t ignore the heavy breathing. Seeing Nick panicking makes him panic as well.

Blaine starts struggling to breath around his own gag, despite the holes he can’t get enough air to his lungs. Saliva builds up in his mouth as his fight or flight reflex kicks in. Although because of the thigh sling harness strap thing he can’t do anything. The only result the saliva has is making his breathing more difficult. He remembers back to what Stretch said about the gags and the gag reflex, and worries he is going to make himself vomit. He hasn’t been told how to ignore his gag reflex yet, and if he does throw up it has nowhere to go. He is going to end up dying while being raped with whatever device is to come next. He doesn’t want to die, he is only sixteen!

“That should do. Some masters will make you prepare yourselves for ass play – hence why I’ve got you two doing it rather than me – but some masters will do it for you sluts, especially as part of a medical scene. It is more difficult doing it on yourself, but a bit of practice on these faggots can’t hurt. First we are going to give both of these sluts an enema each; it is pretty much standard practice for hygiene. I’m just going to put a towel down for today, although when you do it you should be near somewhere to relieve yourself without making a mess. Grab the enemas.” He directs the two subs, who both rise and fetch the items from the desk while he positions a towel near both the subs tortured holes. “Normally lube would be preferable when you do it yourself, if you have access to it, however for today we haven’t so just stick it up there slowly.”

Blaine doesn’t know much about enemas, but expects he will cause himself more pain if he doesn’t simply accept it. But he doesn’t want to accept it. Nick is putting up a fight and he feels he should be too.

Then he remembers what Nick said the day after his first punishment, about how it was Blaine’s optimism that kept him calm. Maybe that could work now so they can both get through this unharmed. They both have Trent and Jeff’s message to hold on to. He takes a moment to calm his exterior first, knowing if Nick sees him looking panicky his message will not work. Once he has himself under control, just before the two older subs returns, he looks directly at Nick.

The movement catches Nick’s attention, and in confusion he pauses in his thrashing.

‘Jeff.’ He mouths, hoping that works on sending the message. He sees Nick visibly relaxing at that, and smiles to himself. He continues watching Nick, even with the girl now shoving a tube up his back side, trying to see if that one word has worked enough or if he needs to come up with something else. Surprisingly, it has. Although Nick doesn’t look happy – and why would he be – he is no longer putting up a fight, instead seeming to relax slightly. Blaine takes that as a huge victory, and decides to also try and retreat to the place he found, no longer worried Nick is going to do something to get himself into more trouble.

He doesn’t leave that place when the enema solution leaves his body, when Stretch wields a whip to attack his hole, or even when some intense vibrating object is pushed against his prostate, causing his straining cock to explode. He simply remains in the little happy place he found, imagining this is all just a hellish nightmare.

Finally, the lesson seemed to draw to a close. He heard the subs leaving quietly, and then was once again robbed of his vision and hearing by the same blindfold and earmuffs as before. Time passed and Blaine’s body started aching from the strain the curled up position put him under. He was almost asleep when the earmuffs and blindfold where once again removed, several hours after they were put on.

The harness was removed, before being carried out the room. He didn’t see the direction he was taken in, or the turns that were made, but he recognised the final destination as the cell and cage he has occupied since arriving at the sub house. Everyone else was asleep in the room, but a few woke up at the noise of Nick and Blaine both being placed in their respective cages by two guards. Before the guards had left, Blaine had fallen into a heavy sleep, mentally drained and physically exhausted from the day.

Chapter Text

 

The sixth day at the sub house was almost as draining as the previous days’ punishment. He hadn’t missed much, only a few more rules about how subs should act and what is to be expected of them. Today they were taught the many different stances they would be expected to use: how to hold yourself when your Master has guests, how to make yourself unnoticed in a room, how to kneel when your Master expects you to simply be on hand, as well as many more situations. Which in theory doesn’t sound too bad, but in reality it was awful. The positions they were instructed to hold were very strenuous and hard to maintain for long lengths of time without limbs shaking with fatigue. Blaine became once again familiar with the Taser, along with most of the others. Surprisingly, the only person to not get shocked at least once was Nick. Something changed in him yesterday, and Blaine isn’t yet sure if it was a good change. Eventually the lessons of the day draw to a close, and shakily the subs rise to their feet before heading back to their shared cell, followed thirty seconds later by a guard coming to lock them in for the night.

Without saying a word, Blaine made his way through to the pathetic excuse for a washroom, having been a few days since he last had access to the toilet for anything longer than a pee, and desperately needing a shower. During his time in the room, a few other subs popped in and out, but none stayed for long, everyone seeming to be in and out as fast as possible. As soon as Blaine stepped under the spray he realised why. He thought the last time he used the shower that it was cold, but that was nothing compared to this time around. He used the cheap shower gel as quickly as possible, and decided to forgo the use of the two in one shampoo this time around, instead favouring getting out as quickly as possible. When he exits the room he heads straight over to the far side; the spot unofficially claimed by him, Nick, and the two girls.

“Hey!” Tina greats from on top of Brittany’s lap.

“Comfortable?” He asks jokingly, sitting down next to Nick as he does.

“For me more than Britt I would expect.” Tina giggled, before then sighing.

“What’s up?” Blaine prompts.

“I’m getting my you-know-what in the next few days, and I have no idea what to tell the guards. I have to, but eeww, talking to guys about this?” Blaine looks confused, he-doesn’t-know-what. “Riding the cotton pony? The jam factory? Paging Edward Cullen? Shark week? I know you gay guys don’t have to ever encounter this stuff, but come on you must have heard people talking about it before?”

At Blaine’s still confused look, Nick speaks up. “Blaine, her period.”

Blaine’s eyes go wide at the realization. He hadn’t even considered that concern for the girls! The other three all laugh at him.

“I… I um… I never really, umm, you know, thought of that.” He says going bright red, which just causes the others to laugh even harder.

“I was hoping someone else would start before me so I could see what I’m meant to do, but it doesn’t look like it will be the case.”

“Maybe someone has?” Brittany inputs. “While at the other place? We should ask.” At this prospect it’s Tina’s turn to go red. Blaine wonders why period talk is so taboo when it happens to every girl. He resolves to get over his little embarrassment as quickly as possible; sharing close quarters with four girls for a year would make it more awkward on everyone.

“Well, they must have something in place. I’ve seen lots of older girls, they wouldn’t have nothing in place for the situation, would they?” Blaine tries to reason. “Umm, would you like me to ask?” He offers, hoping it makes up for his earlier ignorance.

“It’s ok, I think I will brave it up when someone comes back later.” Tina concluded.

It wasn’t very long until a guard did show up, Blaine obviously having spent longer in the washroom than he realised. He was shocked to see it was Slapper, and instantly dropped his head in attempt to make himself smaller. He didn’t want to have anything else to do with the scary woman; however he could tell that the appearance of a female guard helped relax Tina.

“Ma’am?” She asks, the text book version of submission that Blaine had yet to see her do. And in all honesty he didn’t think she could act that way either, but it appears to come naturally to her. Either that or she is a good actor.

“What?” Slapper replies in a tone conveying her annoyance at being addressed.

“W…well, I..I am du…due to-“

“Spit it out.” Slapper interrupts impatiently.

“M…my period is m…meant to start s…soon.” She whispers the word.

“Ok, I will get a menstrual cup to you tomorrow. Now in.” She replies as a matter of fact, apparently oblivious to Tina’s inner turmoil over asking. Tina doesn’t give any reaction to the information, simply turning and pulling herself up to the cage next to Nick’s. Blaine hadn’t noticed before where she was. Slapper makes her way around the room, locking all the cage doors. Blaine is surprised he isn’t asked to cuff his wrists, but isn’t going to do it without being told.

Once Slapper has left and the lights go out, Tina speaks up.

“I have never used a cup before, I don’t even like tampons! How am I meant to use it?” She says to the person directly across from her. Blaine didn’t pay enough attention to know who is in there.

“I know how to.” He recognises the voice as belonging to Brittany. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks.” He hears Tina reply. As his eyes start to adjust to the dim light, he tries to picture where everyone is. Opposite him is Nick, who is above a male he hasn’t really seen before. Well, obviously Blaine has seen him, but doesn’t really remember him doing anything noteworthy. Below Tina is another female, who has black hair and is about the same height as Blaine. The next two full cages hold boys, and the final two are empty, meaning the last girl must be somewhere on his side, along with the two other boys – of which one of them is below him.

Although he now has a rough idea where everyone is, it doesn’t make a difference to him. Although it is comforting to know he is surrounded by three of his friends – he counts Tina and Britt as friends, aside from Nick they are the closest he will have until Jeff comes to save them. 


 

Lunch time the next day was when the next major event kicks off. It’s the first change in food they have had since being here - as far as Blaine is aware anyway, having missed it on several occasions. It was some kind of porridge mixed with various other food items, all ground into one. It looked and smelt awful, however Blaine surprisingly liked it. The texture was more like how he imagined brick dust, but overall he felt it wasn’t the worst he could be given. He assumes it’s mixed with various vitamins and the other stuff he never paid attention to when his cooking teacher talked about it. He was always more interested in the actual cooking of the food than the worrying about the nutritional value and all that other boring theory stuff. He was never one for having to write in a practical lesson.

He gets about half way through his bowl before the boy in the cage below Nick draws attention to himself for the first time. For no apparent reason he stands up, looking around in a manner that can only be described as ‘come get me, I dare you.’ A couple of the guards around the room turn their heads to look at him, but only one walks over, the rest turning their attention back to the other thirty or so subs dotted about the room.

The guard comes to a stop in front of the sub, before ordering “Kneel.” Unsurprisingly, the tall sub doesn’t, instead sticking his chin out in defiance.

“You get one more chance. Kneel,” he instructs. Instead, the sub – Blaine really needs to learn the names of these people – throws his untouched bowl of food over the guard, before finishing of the action by dropping the plastic bowl and turning to run. He only makes it a few steps before colliding with a second guard, who Blaine recognises as Stretch.

“Come with me,” he orders, pulling both of the subs arms and locking them in his cuffs behind his back. The sub seems to realise his small rebellious act has come to a halt, now detained. Although he does put up a bit of resistance, Blaine can tell it is only half hearted as he is led out of the room.

The rest of the day continues as though the other sub was still with them. Blaine assumes having people missing from their group is becoming less of a rare occasion for them, this being the third day of theirs when someone had been absent, the other times having been Nick twice and him once.

The evening passes similar to the previous one, Blaine washing his hair this time as well, anticipating the cold water spray. Stretch eventually appears with the sub he took earlier, first locking the limping man in his cage below Nick before instructing everyone else to get in their own as well. As he leaves, the lights all turn of, plunging them into the familiar darkness for another night.

Chapter Text

 The morning started the same as the others, being woken up by a guard who then led them to a second destination for the day. This room had a similar set up to the classroom he and Nick received their punishment in, but with the addition of a projector. Knowing what is expected of them, Blaine goes to kneel on one of the pads behind the bench-table in wait of whatever is to come. Nick is the first to copy him, kneeling on the pad next to Blaine, followed by Tina and Brittany before finally everyone else. The front row was occupied by Blaine and his three friends, with three spare spots, and the others shared the two rows behind. Seeing they had all settled into position, the guard turns round and walks out, leaving them unsupervised. Although they had now only completed their first week of training, the guards where leaving them on their own more and more. The sub who spoke out at lunch yesterday rises to his feet as soon as the guard is out of sight. He walks round the room, Blaine having no idea what he was looking for, before the sub sits back down once again. He doesn’t say anything, and no one else questioned him. They sit there in silence, waiting for something to happen, unsure exactly of what was being excepted of them.

After around half an hour, Blaine getting better at measuring time without a clock, Hunter strides in with an air of authority, making Blaine want to cower away and become invisible to Hunter’s glare. Blaine hasn’t seen Hunter since the first full day at the house, most likely, no doubt, due to Hunter having had more important things to do than to constantly watch and intimidate new subs. He turns the projector on, and a power point comes up on the screen entitled ‘Submissive History’. Blaine dreads to think what lies he is about to be brainwashed into believing.

“Although many people,” he starts without acknowledging them, “including those on my director’s board, don’t agree with me on this, I feel it is important for you to know how things changed from the America you learnt about in history lessons to the America you are in today. That way you have full understanding of your place in society, and why this system is vital for your wellbeing.” He starts, clicking a button to turn the powerpoint to the next slide consisting mostly of words with a few stock photos. Blaine has to fight back a scoff, there is no way this system is better for him than if he had been left to his own devices. They don’t punish him for looking up just for his own wellbeing. Blaine prepares for a very bias explanation – although at least it will be an explanation.

“As you know, a few hundred years ago everyone was considered equal, all simply called humans. It was a very unstable time, but somehow people managed to get by without a clear social order.” Translation: everyone was treated humanly and all was fine. “However there were some people slightly different, who enjoyed styles of role play as their way to give up the control hey were given. And there were several different ways people gave up their power – daddy kink, pony play, watersports to name but a few.” Another click and a large list appeared on the projector, things Blaine couldn’t even imagine doing willingly – although he no doubt will be expected to do them with his Masters. Disconcertingly, he could see how some of those things could be enjoyable; things he thinks he would be interested in if he wasn’t in his current predicament. But if people did used to do this stuff of their own free will, surely Blaine shouldn’t feel embarrassed in the situations where he does unwillingly become aroused?

“The most important one to your history was known as TPE – Total Power Exchange, - especially domination and submission.” Blaine remembers learning about domination in his social studies classes. Nowadays this word was almost extinct, in place of the names hum and master, another way make those with submissive tendencies feel less worthy – taking away their connection to the word human. It’s also where the term sub originated. “People started getting more open with their views towards statutes, their sex life and the different relationship structures, all becoming more public. It was a great development, especially since there was less embarrassment with talking openly resulting in more STDs being discovered sooner.” Translation: everyone was really horny but at least there was some benefits. “With people becoming more exposed to it, more people realised it was a valid option, meaning there are more people with untraditional relationship dynamics. Well, untraditional at the time.” Blaine doesn’t agree with what Hunter is implying; nowadays the only untraditional relationships where those with subs, and he wouldn’t exactly consider that as being a relationship. “It got to a stage where everyone was completely open with their kinks, and you could see littles and submissives walking down the street. It become apparent, just like sexuality or gender, that some people where born more one way than the other, and once thy had discovered this side to themselves it was hard to remove it. Over a decade or so it became apparent that dom/subs where the most common pairing, with a majority of those in positions of power also having a submissive. It became a trend, everyone wanted a submissive because those they idealised had one, and there were more than enough people with these submissive tendencies.” A trend. Don’t these people realize how trends come and go all the time? “Submissives also became vital to the running of the country; the dom would give important tasks to their submissive – things that didn’t need to be done by someone directly in the government but too important to be outsourced to someone who may not be as loyal or trustworthy.” Translation: even when it was voluntary, a lot of subs where still slaves to their master. Blaine doesn’t think it was originally the case, but it certainly became that way.

The screen changed again, this time showing several men Blaine recognised from his politics classes, all standing next to a kneeling woman. Although the woman were clearly the men’s submissives, they were all smiling directly into the camera, something he can’t really understand. He is constantly told he is to have his head down and eyes everted to show proper submission, yet these public figures hadn’t demanded that of their own subs. Also, they looked genuinely happy to be there. But then again, they weren’t subs in the same sense as he is; they all chose it.

“A few more years on and the newness of it ended, the novelty wearing off.” Exactly, just a trend Blaine reasons. “Although having a submissive had become standard practice, there were some things they couldn’t provide, some things their nature simply wouldn’t allow. This resulted in people entering relationships with multiple people, usually three or four. There would be one (or two) submissives with two doms. The doms would have a traditional relationship on equal ground, with the submissive servicing both, usually doing the housework and being an outlook for the control the doms desired – not wanting to lose it having just discovered it.” Blaine translate again; once people started having power they really didn’t want to have to give it back. Looking back to the projected image, the slide changes once again, this one showing images of the dynamics Hunter had just explained.

“Submissives started hiding; very few willing to have a non-monogamous relationship, confused how to manage orders from two people of the same high status – something simply in a submissives nature, but one tendency we try to change in you to prepare you for you future. However another type of person stepped up to fore fill this role: the prostitutes.” Blaine remembers being taught about them in one his lessons as well, a role that no longer existed in todays society since the position was passed to subs to fill, people buying subs to put in building and rent out to people unable to afford their own. Blaine really hopes he doesn’t end up being rented to different people all the time, at least with having one Master he would know exactly what was expected all the time. Although he couldn’t personally see the problem with prostitutes taking on this kind of role, he can see how they would have changed the status of the position, and not all for the better.

“Much like they had been doing before, they started selling their services for this particular role. Eventually, due to supply and demand, the prices became too steep for a lot of people to afford, and the poorer people returned to a similar set up as before, going about their lives as though nothing had happened. Prostitution was illegal most places at this time, so these people were very shady in attempt to dodge the law. Instead they sold themselves as ‘full time escorting personal assistants’, given the nickname of escorts. Since escorting was a high paying profession, and gave them a steady income they had never had before, these poor people didn’t know how to manage their money or what to spend it on. A lot of them turned to drugs, alcohol and gambling. And despite the large earnings, a lot got themselves into debt.” Blaine idly wanders if it would have been something he would have chosen too do if he was getting paid for it, with having the choice and freedom to still decide what was too much for himself. Blaine could see why some people would, but from what Hunter is saying he expects the escorting community to be a difficult place. “The government had to intervene and put a stop to this all, making it illegal under a federal law. However as with a lot of large money making jobs, with its ban it simply went underground. People starting pimping the services, one person in charge of the assignments given to the escorts on their pay role. A lot of people got pressured into the system, and because it wasn’t regulated it wasn’t stopped. There had also been a negative effect in the running of the country and states, a noticeable decrease in the organisation and paperwork quality. Turns out, submissives had become very important to the running of the USA.” Translation: doms took the subs for granted and didn’t know until they had been took away from them. Noticing the slide show, the current screen was showing run down villages and places of disrepair. Blaine felt it looked depressing, but couldn’t see how the lack of submissives could have caused this much damage; surely they coped before, or if they didn’t the blame couldn’t be solely put on the submissives.

“It was voted on, and the ban on escorts was lifted, but this time there was more regulation to prevent a similar problem from arising again. Escorts had to work for a pimp, and pimps had to have a Supreme Court issued licence, which could only be gained after rigorous screening and training. There were many rules under the licence: people had to be at least sixteen years old, they had to prove their identity, sign paperwork. But one of the largest changes was a limitation on how many submissives a pimp could manage. This led to testing; the only people offered a job were those who showed the strongest traits naturally, ensuring the most profit could be made for everyone involved within the system.” For once Blaine has to agree, lifting the ban seemed the best move, and the limitations theoretically should have solved the issues. “Because of the licences - which had to be paid for as well, - pimps were charging more for their service and giving less directly to the submissive.” The screen now showed a few images containing licences and pimps, as well as a few buildings looking similar to the sub house he was at. Blaine believes that the licences should have been a great way to ensure everything was safer. Something had obviously gone wrong.

“A lot of people went to get tested. Being a submissive was considered a privilege because of how hard it was to get the job. Not only was it well paid – despite the cut took by the pimps – they were provided with free food, accommodation and clothing. Even when they were not with an individual client, they would still have access to all the essentials at a house the pimp ran and operated from; nowadays they have become known as the holding centres.” Blaine could see how this place Hunter described could be similar to the holding centre: add a few years of advancement in technology as well as combining the several ‘pimp houses’ into one. Bitterly he added the subtraction of clothing to that list. Following on from that train of thought, he dreads to think how cold he will be during the winter months in the warehouse like building. He can’t picture them using any form of heating. He stops his thinking there, not really wanting to know where it would lead him, and instead goes back to listening to Hunter.

“Some states made it compulsory for people to get tested, and shortly after the rest followed, knowing it was the best way to help with unemployment statistics and to get people off the streets. Pimps came together to work from one location, still only allowed to be the named manager of a limited number of subs – depending what licence they owned - but splitting the costs for bills, and having backup from others. Some places started offering training, protecting the subs in their care and helping them prepare for the career ahead.” The slide now showed pictures of classrooms – the traditional type rather than the type he had come to expect from the sub house.

“The subs needed this help. With having nothing essential to spend their money on, again a lot turned to drugs and alcohol, several once again gambling and getting into severe debts.” Blaine is sure there must have been other things they could have bought; he would love to have a bit of money considered his own, or anything he could consider his own in all fairness. It hits him at that moment like a freight train; his childhood is over. He won’t be able to own and play with the newest computer console, he won’t be able to buy a new bowtie just because he likes it, he won’t be able gush over a guy who was flirting with him. The rest of his life is to simply serve others. He understands what Hunter is trying to say; he had never been a human, but he has only just reached the age where he is legal recognized as being something else. He lifts his hands to rest on the bench to steady himself. His whole world spinning away at a rate he can’t keep up with. Hunter continues talking, none the wiser to Blaine’s discovery.

“People with submissive instincts simply struggled to manage themselves, needing to give themselves over and have someone do it for them. Not to say subs can’t balance the books and manage the bills, but simply can’t decide on the correct way to spend the money. This led to another change in federal law: the pimps kept all the money made and distributed it to the subs as they felt suitable. This allowed the subs to completely focus on those they served, and to live a healthier life.” He hears someone behind him scoff at that, and he has to agree. There is no way this lifestyle is healthier for him than he was before with his singing and fight club. Maybe that would have been the case for some people, but Blaine doesn’t think that is anything to do with the submissive instincts. Thankfully Hunter hadn’t heard the noise, and continued talking uninterrupted.

“Because of this change in the law, a lot of people who were tested positive declined the job offer, some even going as far as faking the test to avoid any pressure to say yes. This became unprofitable, and the system was starting to fail without enough subs to support it. Because of the nature of subs, it was clear they were not up to making the decision on what is best for themselves, for you, another federal law was passed meaning the parents of the subs would get the right to say yes or no, depending on what they thought was best for their child. They would sign a contract before the test giving permission for the child to be taken into our care if they were tested positive. This contract was signed at any age after the child had turned three. As time went on, people signed it earlier into the child’s life. The contract didn’t have to be signed, but terms and conditions are always in the small print, and since everyone signed it, people assumed it was compulsory. It was another form to simply sign when they booked the test for the child’s sixteenth birthday. Here is a little secret shared only with subs and a few others who work with me, it was the exact form all of your parents signed, the only difference being the logo on the headed paper.” Blaine’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. Everything he had been told before was a lie! His parents had unknowingly signed his life away when he was three years old! He no longer knew what to believe.

“All the pimp houses had become directly run by people on the government’s payroll, specifically that of the organisation of submissive ownership, and moved to only be in twelve separate locations. People were employed specifically to help train these subs for their future in a separate location; all these people today are on my payroll.” The powerpoint went black, clearly at the end of it all. Blaine tries to sort out all of the thoughts and emotions running through his mind, but there is too much new information to absorb.

“Master?” A girl asks from the other side of the room.

“You may speak.”

“So this is all for our safety? To keep us safe from ourselves?” She replies. Blaine doesn’t recognise the voice, obviously belonging to one of the two girls he hasn’t yet spoken too. He isn’t sure if she actually believed all of the stuff Hunter had just explained, but from the sound of her question she did.

“Good girl.” Hunter praises. “You are exactly correct,” he nods. After a brief deliberation he speaks once again. “Ok, I think it is now time for your lunch. As a last treat though, coming to the end of the adjustment week we allow, I will warrant you the rest of the afternoon off. Although be sure to spend time thinking about what you learnt today as you will be expected to remember it at random moments in a pop quiz.” With that he leaves, allowing Blaine and his fellow subs to make their own way to the cafeteria with their minds swirling, Blaine especially worried what is to come, Hunter having given the impression they had been nice so far.

Chapter Text

After eating they all go back to the cell, not really sure where else they would be allowed to go. Although no one has come along to lock them in, all of Blaine’s fellow subs haven’t left the cell. When they arrive, a few of the subs Blaine is yet to introduce himself to, as well as Tina, head straight into the washroom. Blaine decides to occupy his usual space on the floor by Nick’s cage to wait his turn for the shower, and is shortly joined by both Brittany and Nick sitting in a three pointed circle. A triangle he corrects himself.

“Hey Nick,” he greats. “Are you ok, you seemed very introverted today?” Nick grunts in reply, clearly not wanting to talk about it. He instead turns to Brittany, coming up with a change of topic. “So where are you from Brittany?” He asks.

“I’m actually from Lima, Ohio. But I had my meeting in Wisconsin,” she replies.

“I was from Ohio too! Westerville. What school did you go to?” Blaine starts excitedly, slightly bouncing up and down. He notices a ghost of a smile on Nick’s lips, but not quite enough for it to travel to his eyes.

“Mckinely?” She responds, trying to work out what Blaine was getting at.

“We competed against you at sectionals! Show choir,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Dalton warblers?” Blaine nods. “Did you and Brad fall out? You didn’t have a band.” Brittany asks in what appears to be concern, however Blaine has no idea who ‘Brad’ is so doesn’t really know how to reply. Thankfully Brittany continues after a pause, despite Blaine’s lack of response. “You were the one Kurt pointed out, with the cemented gel on your head. Kurt said you were hot. Why a Katy Perry song? Roar really didn’t suit the Warblers image...” She questions, Blaine struggling to keep up with the girls train of thought and the questions she asks. He hears a quiet snicker and turns to jokingly glare at the offender.

“I’m sorry Blaine,” Nick responds, seeming to be slightly more cheerful than he was before. “But that is exactly what we tried to tell you. You are just deaf when it comes to any of her songs.” Nick chuckles again.

“I’m a Katy Perry and I’m proud of it!” Blaine argues, sticking his chin out in retaliation.

“I know you are.” Nick laughs, shaking his head. After noticing Brittany is also laughing, Blaine joins in, not really laughing at his comment like the others, but simply taking an opportunity to laugh. Laughing is much better than thinking about everything that they had been told earlier.

“So Britt, why was your appointment not in Ohio?” Blaine asks, half in attempt to rid the attention off him and half steer the conversation on, staying away from what he is sure is not only on his mind.

“Because that’s where my mom booked it.” She says as though it is blaringly obvious; which Blaine supposes it is. “Although it was a great day trip, Lord Tubbington hadn’t seen where I was born until then.”

“I hated my appointment.” Tina says on her way over, saving Blaine from puzzling over Brittany’s sentences. Her hair is dry, obviously having forgone the shower this time. “The place smelt like rotting flesh. Although that may have just been my imagination,” she adds as an afterthought, sitting down directly opposite him, in between Nick and Brittany.

“I didn’t think it was too bad where I went.” He continues after the pointed glare from the other three. “Well, the whole discovering ‘your life is now over’ part wasn’t exactly great, but at least I didn’t get bullied in there.” He aimed for it to be a jokey comment, but it came out sounding more resentful.

“I thought the place was awful. Come on, it was a prison cell, simple as. Just like here. And you can’t say you weren’t bullied, that guard was worse than you bullying before Dalton, surely!” Nick replies in a half question.

“What, Puck? The one with the mohawk?” At Nicks’ slightly confused nod he continues. “I really liked him. He was much nicer than that woman. And Puck was fairly kind considering he didn’t have to be.” Nick shakes his head in objection.

“He was evil reincarnated. A spawn of Satan himself. Worse than all the bullies I have ever encountered before!” Nick states, getting incredibly agitated.

“You did purposely irritate him though.” At Nick’s expression Blaine realises it was a mistake in mentioning it, and decides to quickly change topic to the first thing he can think of. “How long have you and Jeff been dating? None of the Warblers knew!” He says, remembering the exchange at the auction. He thinks back and realises that was only six days ago, even though it felt much longer! Just another 350 or so left to go; a depressing thought.

“Four months as of today,” that would explain the mood, “And we didn’t celebrate our third month either, since I was already in holding. He must have thought I had abandoned him, yet he is still trying to save me once he found out. I just wish I had been brave enough to tell him what was happening, rather than finding out through a chance meeting with a naked Blaine,” he replies sadly, but with a slight chuckle at the image of the encounter. Deciding that it probably wasn’t the best road to take, he tries to come up with something else to take the attention from Nick, but thankfully Tina speaks first.

“I regret not saying goodbye to all my friends as well.” At a prompting look from Blaine, she elaborates. “I was so certain I wouldn’t be a sub I didn’t see the need to. So few people are labelled, and I wasn’t exactly a push over; I know I scared the principle – “

“He thought she was a vampire.” Brittany interjects. At the boys confused looks, Tina explains.

“I always used to dress quite gothic – when I was allowed clothes and makeup - and he thought I was a vampire.” Blaine doesn’t really understand; who thought vampires were real anyway? “Although in fairness I did act the part at times. I threatened him a lot of the time, saying if he didn’t allow me to do something I would set the Asian vampire cult upon him.” Tina chuckles. Blaine tries to imagine it, but can’t picture this girl looking goth. Then again, he can’t picture anyone from this hell hole as having a life before it; exactly the purpose of the training.

“So did you two go to the same school?” Nick asks, picking up on something Blaine had missed – too focused on the vampire part of the discussion.

“Yup.” Brittany starts explaining. “Tina dated one of my boyfriends before I did, dumping him for Asian number two. But then I dumped Tina’s ex because he called me stupid, and that is really offensive. So I then dated Santana, but you can’t tell anyone as she is still hiding in the wardrobe.”

“Do you mean in the closet?” Nick asks. Brittany just shrugs her shoulders in response, clearly not fussed with what the true saying is.

“Is this the same Santana who lied about me escaping that first day?” Blaine knows it is a very long shot – everyone from America ends up at this place, the odds are against it being true, especially since that girl was at least a year older than them – although he couldn’t help but wonder if it is possible.

“That is her. We don’t date anymore, because she skived her appointment in protest and therefore got took ‘for her own good’.” Blaine can’t tell if Brittany believes what she is saying or not, speaking expressionlessly and in an impressive monotone manor. Blaine is still trying to understand the likelihood of so many people being from such a small area when he realises Brittany is still talking. “- and then I slept with Quinn, but turns out she doesn’t play for the winning team-“

“Bat for the other team?” Nick interrupts in question. Once again Brittany simply shrugs in nonchalance.

“I did make out with Kurt, but turns out he does play for the winning team. Although he had really nice baby hands.” Blaine smiles at Brittany in confusion, not really understanding what she is talking about anymore. “He was the kicker for the football team, and helped them win. But it was only a winning team because he danced to single ladies on the pitch.” Blaine chuckles at the image; a boy on the football team shacking his hips on the football field. At least he thinks that is what Brittany is trying to say. This Kurt sounds like something else.

“So what about you Blaine? Any good love life tales to tell?” Tina asks, Nick shorting in response. Blaine glares at his best friend, but decides to share anyway.

“Well last year the Warblers staged a ‘Gap attack’ at the local Gap. I had a huge crush on the junior manager there, but he didn’t have the same feelings. I may have accidentallygothimfired,” he says in a rush, guiltily. “Apart from that I haven’t got anything to tell. I’ve always known I was a sub so didn’t really go looking for any-“ Blaine stops suddenly at the three open mouthed people sat with him. “What?” He questions self consciously.

“You knew you were going to be a sub? How does that work? Did you just give up on living, or did you simply hand yourself over at sixteen? Don’t you like your parents?” Tina lists in curiosity.

“As for my parents, they were supportive and all that, but my Dad was never really comfortable after I had come out. He was still accepting, and didn’t stand for people bullying me, he was just more distant than before I came out. And as for how I knew, well I just had always known. Although I always looked like I was independent, everything I did was in aim for someone’s approval. I was very glad Dalton had a uniform as I struggled picking clothes. And when I did have to find an outfit I always chose some bright primary colours, something that was outrageous, in an attempt to discise the lack of fashion sense I had. I may be gay, but unfortunately it doesn’t automatically make me a fashionista.” Unconsciously he raises his hand to run along his collar, prompting another memory. “And I would always wear a bow tie as I loved the feeling of something round my neck, a comfort blanket.” At the continued confusion evident on his friends faces – and a few of the other subs who had clearly been earwigging – he gives up on his explanation. “Although I knew being a sub isn’t really a true life, not having any freedom for yourself, I just knew it would be my path. I still had dreams for my future, but I knew they were just dreams.” He looks up and notices another sub, looking like they wanted to talk.

“I always knew I would be too. For no reason I could really pin point, I just was expecting the words ‘Maxwell, you have scored over fifty points’, so I wasn’t too shocked. Although if I hear anyone call me Maxwell I will go all Texas heights on you, I go by Max,” he inputs. Blaine hasn’t paid much attention to the other subs, so unsurprisingly he didn’t really know much else about the short boy, but will defiantly have to remember his name; although the boy – Max he reminds himself - had at least appeared to be half joking. Looking round the room, Blaine spots at least 3 others – two girls and one other boy – also nodding. At least it appears he wasn’t the only one. He takes the awkward end of conversation as an opportunity to go shower.

Blaine takes his time in the washroom, using the cold shower to brainstorm ideas for a better descriptive word for the room itself. Washroom makes it sound much classier than it is. There are no baths to warrant the term bathroom, and there is more than just a toilet to use that term. It’s just another cell like room with no windows and a dim light, but also wet and damp. A wet cell. He chuckles, still not finding a word he likes, before taking his time to finish in the room.

Heading out, he notices another naked body sitting with his little group, currently facing away from him, sat between Nick and Tina. He recognises the hair as belonging to the boy who earned a punishment yesterday in the canteen area; another boy he had all but ignored before.

“Blaine, meet Jacob.” Nick introduces. Blaine smiles at Jacob before walking to the other side of the small circle to sit down in the spot he was in before, feeling incredibly exposed with his uncovered dick at eye level with this new stranger. Although, he reasons, it’s nothing the others haven’t seen before, he might as well start getting used to it. Jacob starts talking, obviously continuing the conversation from before Blaine arrived.

“I disagree Nick, I liked that room. Maybe it’s because you were the first to be took to be ‘broken’ you only saw it as a room to wait for your inevitable doom. However once just about less than half of you had been took – in fact, I think it was just after Blaine had been caught playing pat-a-cake and ordered to leave - we invented a game to pass the slow moving time.”

“Sorry, can you catch me up please?” Blaine asks, confused as to what was going on that involved him.

“We are just talking about that room we were put in before the guards raped us.” Jacob explains frankly, surprisingly showing no reaction to the thought of the rape unlike the rest of them – Blaine included. “I suppose it wasn’t as bad for me since I wasn’t a virgin in the first place. I had bottomed occasionally before with my girl friend. She would use a strap on and tie me up, and I would get of on the helplessness of it, which had given me a tiny-” he chuckled “-inkling that I was submissive, although I didn’t think I would be found out for it. But as awful as this sounds and as embarrassed this makes me feel, I kind of enjoyed the experience. I certainly got off on it anyway,” he adds shyly. Thinking back, Blaine recognises Jacob as being the other boy who nodded with Max.

Blaine is interrupted from the option of replying by the appearance of Slapper. He instantly shuts his mouth and drops his head in attempt to remove himself from her vision. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Nick doing the same.

“Here’s your cup.” She says to Tina, holding a small rubber looking object. “You are responsible for it’s usage, keeping it clean, and storing it when not in use. I suggest keeping it in your cage.” She turns to address the three other girls. “We will get one to the rest of you as well at some point, we just haven’t sorted it yet. Lights out in an hour.” Without another word or explanation she turns and leaves, locking the cell for the first time. It is a good job everyone did opt to stay rather than leaving, she didn’t take note of who was there. Hell, at least two people where out of her view in the washroom anyway! He can’t imagine what kind of punishment would have been in store if he had been locked outside.

Tina looks up at the ceiling and sighs, clearly over something he was imagining.

“A sigh makes babies cry.” Brittany says in panic. “What’s wrong.”

“I always wanted to be an actress. Now though I only have rape and servitude to look forwards to.” She sighs again.

“I had dreams to move to New York, despite knowing I would likely be a sub anyway. I was going to get a role on Broadway and give private music lessons in my spare time. I’m still hoping someone from New York will buy me, even if it isn’t the way I hoped to be going there.” Blaine shares his guilty pleasure. He hadn’t ever voiced it before.

“We are in New York now,” Brittany inputs.

“Really!” Nick exclaims. “How do you know that Britt?”

“I saw the birds flying east as we where led in, and it smelt like the last time I visited for nationals.”

“How on earth can you tell?” Tina asks, as interested as the rest of them.

“I just told you.” Brittany replies irritably.

“I really don’t get you at times, yet more often than not you tend to be right. So, New York. Wow.” Tina replies in a mixture of shock and amazement, clearly believing Brittany is correct.

The conversations continue easily, Max having also decided to join them. At one point Brittany and Tina disappear into the washroom– as well as the other two girls opting to go as well – so Brittany can help them with how to use the menstrual cup. Blaine obviously didn’t follow, not really wanting to know what the teaching would entail either. After what had obviously been an hour, Slapper returns, instructing them all to get into their cages for the night. Confusingly, she doesn’t unlock the cell and enter. She leaves without locking the individual cages, although no one dared to leave anyway, especially not in the pitch black running the risk of falling out.

Chapter Text

Blaine had spent a long time last night waiting for someone to come and lock the cages, however no one did. He must have eventually fallen asleep though because the next thing he was aware of was a loud commotion, someone banging on the cell door to get them all up.

“Everyone needs to be in yesterdays classroom within ten minutes.” A guard shouts from the other side of the door. Blaine groans and roles over, turning so his back is against his cage door. He hears a few others groaning as well, clearly objecting to having to get up. He thought subs had some kind of magical ability enabling them to be better at getting up in the mornings, however it turns out he is still a teenager and getting up at... well, whatever the time is... is still a tall order, especially knowing there isn’t anyone there watching and waiting to discipline him for not getting up instantly. He hears some of the others opening their cage doors and getting out, but he still isn’t ready.

He must have fallen back to sleep, as the next thing he is aware of is being shaken.

“Blaine, you really have got to get up.” He hears Nick, still shaking him roughly. Blaine grumbles but doesn’t make any further move. “Blaine if you don’t get up this second I will personally see to it that your parents burn your bowtie collection.”

“Not the bowties! I’m up,” he shouts, jumping down from his cage with a slight chuckle. Although he knows there is little chance Nick would carry out his threat, he knows there is a bigger, genuine threat for not getting up.  One he certainly doesn’t want to face.

It appears half the subs had already left, not waiting for the others - only his three friends as well as Max and Jacob remained to wait for him. Then again, there isn’t any sense of unity between them all, at least not outside of his little group. It’s each sub for themselves; Blaine expects the only person to really have his back is Nick.

When they eventually make it to their destination – having made one wrong turn – the arrive only an instant before the guard. Blaine’s heart plummets when he recognises the voice.

“Hurry up, kneel,” Slapper instructs, the six of them hastily settling on the cushions in the front row. On the bench-table in front of each cushion is a bottle of small, generic, cheaply produced lube. Blaine really doesn’t want to know why they need it, despite it probably being obvious.

“This is the first and last time you will get to do this. Your pleasure is no longer anyone’s concern, but we allow you one last opportunity to masturbate; we have discovered the best way to teach you to bring pleasure to your Master is doing it yourself. But only once.” Slapper picks up the bottle of lube from her desk, popping the lid as she returns to the centre of the room and creepily sniffing it.

“A quick question for the girls first, before we all begin. Are any of you on your period? 1452?” Blaine wonders what the numbers mean.

“No Ma’am,” Tina responds. That’s right, everyone in this room is only a product, referred to by their serial number. He had almost forgotten where he was, the daily routine already seeming more normal than it should be. He guesses that must be Tina’s name now, according to the system. After seeing the other three girls shake their heads, Slapper seems satisfied and continues.

“Firstly, you boys need to wank and bring yourself to full hardness, and you girls need to stimulate your clitoris until you have sufficient juices flowing,” Slapper instructs, directly to the point, everyone’s jaws dropping in shock. “Then you all be instructed on how to stretch your anal hole. This afternoon you will be paired up and then finally you will be allowed to reach your orgasm.”  He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it defiantly wasn’t that. When no one moves, she speaks up again. “What are you waiting for?”

Everyone scrambles for the lube, still in a slight daze trying to process what it is they have been instructed to do. Blaine isn’t really sure what he is meant to be doing. Well, that’s not completely true; he is a teenaged boy, he knows what porn is. But to be judged on exactly what he is doing and how, that’s something completely different. And to do it in a room full of other people, also trying to spark their own arousal, completely kills his mood. Theoretically anyway.

“5226, I suggest you hurry up and start or I will be doing it for you, and I promise you don’t want that!” At the recognition of his number, he quickly pops the lid and trickles the slimy liquid over his fingers and palm, wrapping it around his flaccid cock.

Looking at the room he sees everyone else in various states. Nick looks hesitant, but stroking himself none the less. Brittany seemed to be taking it all in her stride, and comparably Tina also seemed to be trying, but a little less sure of herself than Brittany. Blaine can’t seem to look away, having never watched a girl before. Brittany has her eyes shut, head slightly thrown back. Her legs spread in a way only a cheerleader or gymnast could manage, still on her knees, her whole arm moving up and down at a slow sustainable pace. On each upstroke Blaine notices she pulls her fingers in a come-hither motion, lightly brushing her clit each time. It’s almost like watching a bad accident, he can’t quite look away, even though he really wants to.

Finally he is able to move on, knowing looking at viginas is resulting in the opposite of what he has to achieve. His eyes skip over Max, also looking around uncomfortably like Blaine, before landing on Jacob. Blaine has to have a double take, because the same boy who caused the scene in the canteen a few days ago, well he was really going for it. Blaine could see the muscles in his arms working to keep up the fast pace, and feels himself getting turned on by the image. When he started looking around, it was only to try and work out the others reactions, he didn’t intend for it to be his own live action porn. But god, those muscles! He watched them flex, standing out prominently from the rest of Jacob’s arm. Jacob’s mouth drops open, emitting a soft groan Blaine can’t help but bask in.

He knows he really shouldn’t. He should look away. Shut his eyes and focus solely on his own sensations. But he just can’t bring himself to do it. Blaming it on the sex deprived teenage mind of his, he starts moving his own arm, slowly simulating his own cock. He watches the movements Jacobs makes, copying them with his own arm, imagining it is Jacob’s arm stroking his own cock. He knows it’s wrong, but he can’t stop. Jacob makes another deep moan, which goes straight to Blaine’s cock. Blaine has to fight to keep back his own moan. How had he not noticed before? But Jacob is incredibly hot and muscular! Everywhere. Blaine’s gaze makes it’s way to Jacobs dick, and he is stunned by the length. It is the prettiest and biggest cock he had seen, sticking out at full hardness. Blaine feels an increasing heat in his hands, more blood having rushed to his dick fast enough to make him dizzy had he not had a focal point – namely the almost strangers cock. He sees a bit of precum gathering at the end of Jacob’s cock, and his mouth starts waters, imagining licking it off. As he picks his lips, Jacobs looks up and directly at Blaine.

He freezes, no idea what to do. He had been caught in the act and there was no back tracking.

“5226, 8263! Start moving.” Slapper shouts, agitatedly. Blaine starts stroking again, slowly. He knows he really should stop looking at Jacob, but he can’t. And god those eyes of his! A swirling grey. Grey doesn’t do it justice though. Grey sounds dull and boring, whereas Jacob’s eyes look like they contained the stars, the moon, and the rest of the galaxy. Blaine was getting lost in those eyes, still stroking his own cock as per Slapper’s instructions.

It’s at that point he realises there is only one reason Blaine is able to look into Jacob’s eyes. He is staring directly back. His breath hitches, seeing the smile aimed directly at him, before Jacob’s eyes travel down Blaine’s own body. He takes this as permission, eyes dropping below the equator again. Yup, Jacob is still caressing his cock while watching Blaine. And wow. He has to take a moment to appreciate it. It is the best cock he has ever seen, better than he could have imagined. The veins stand out prominently from the muscly shaft. Jacob is slightly shorter than Blaine, but his greater girth makes up for it. The head is a shinny red, sparkling with precum, the shaft a blend of red and Jacob’s natural tanned tone.

“5226.” Slapper calls, standing right in front of him, making him jump. He whips his head round to look at her, before remembering he should have his head down, dropping it quickly. “Good boy,” she praises. Strangely, Blaine likes the praise, feeling like he had done something right for once in this place. “Twist your wrist as you reach your head,” she instructs. On his next upstroke, Blaine turns his wrist in a clockwise direction. A wave of heat races through his body, a sensation he has never had the pleasure of experiencing before. His head falls back, allowing a breathless moan to escape.

“Much better. Keep it up,” she instructs as she moves along to watch Tina on his left. He shuts his eyes, allowing himself to float in the pleasure he is giving himself. He feels every sensation, only multiplied by 10. The sounds of everyone else in the room become distant, everything calm. His only focus is his dick, and the image of Jacob doing unspeakable things to him. Up, twist, back. Up, twist, back. Repeat again. He starts increasing his speed, needing and craving for more of the friction. His movements start to get slightly erratic, no pattern or rhythm, just doing what feels right and pulls in the right way. He feels his muscles tightening, preparing for the release is craving.

“5226 Stop!” Slapper booms. Blaine’s eyes shoot open, releasing his hand from its pleasurable grasp, unsure what it is he is in trouble for. It appears he isn’t the only one who listened, everyone else having opened their ears and stopped as well. “Did I tell the rest of you to stop?” Slapper prompts. A few of the subs shake their heads, before everyone starts back up again. “Remind me why we are letting you do this?” She asks. Blaine thinks back to the start of the lesson, struggling to remember, feeling like he is trying to run through deep mud.

“To make sure we know what we are doing?” He asks. Hastily adding, “Ma’am.”

“What did I say about your own pleasure?” She prompts.

“It doesn’t matter, Ma’am.”  He drops his head. “You are preparing us to give our Masters hand jobs. And clitoral stimulation.” He adds, remembering the girls. He starts feeling guilty, although he isn’t really sure what exactly is making him feel that way

“So what did you do wrong?” Slapper acts condescendingly, as though Blaine is a young child who had been caught sneaking into the snack cupboard.

“I forgot, Ma’am, and instead was too absorbed in myself.”

“That’s right,” Slapper agrees. “You are going to sit there, not touching yourself, while you wait for everyone else. If you behave for the rest of the session, I might allow you to regain the promised orgasm you have just lost. But since there are an odd amount of you, it wouldn’t be any issue to have someone sitting out.”

“Thank you Ma’am.” He responds, grateful that appears to be the extent of his ‘punishment’. Although probably because he had been caught before he had finished.

After only a few minutes he realised it wasn’t going to be as easy as he had initially thought. Sat on his knees, his cock still jutting out wanting attention, while being surrounded by ten other subs, all making their own moans and whimpers, bringing pleasure to themselves. Blaine keeps getting a twitch in his right arm, wanting to touch himself again, still as hard as he was before he had to stop. He looks out the corner of his eye, wanting to see Jacob.

But turns out that was a mistake, unsurprisingly. Jacob was still stroking himself, but slower than before. He had his eyes open and was still watching Blaine. The blood from his brain seems to rush straight to his cock, as not only does it get harder, he doesn’t even attempt to block the moan that escapes his lips. Sweat has started to bead on Jacob’s forehead, but not in the gross sweaty baboon way, instead in the sexy workout way. All Blaine can think about is what it would taste like if he was to lick it. Which really isn’t helping obey his no wanking order. Viginas. Big scary viginas. Viginas with teeth and legs. Viginas bleeding. Eww. He feels his cock slightly cooling down. Not completely deflating, but the blood flow slowly reducing.

Thankfully, at the same time Slapper decides everyone has shown enough knowledge, and tells them all to stop. The delicious noises all fade to nothing. Blaine breathes a sigh of relief as Slapper walks over to the desk, pulling out a damaged box without a top, and dropping it on top of the desk.

“You are all likely to get anal fucked.” Again, Blaine double takes at the frankness she says it with. “Now these aren’t that large; probably need three fingers.” She says pulling out a purple butt plug, shaped similar to a bulb. “You are to open yourselves up, and once you think you have done enough work, tell me and we will test it.” She says with a smirk. “It is going in, even if you haven’t done enough, so I suggest you make sure you are completely open. But if you take too long, it will be going in, ready or not.” She drops the plug back into the box, which Blaine takes as his cue to start.

He had never done this before, but knows he needs plenty of lube, squirting it in copious amounts over his fingers. Though that isn’t true, he has had fingers in his hole before, he just hadn’t done it to himself. Thoughts of the night with Hunter come flooding back to him, sending shivers down his own spine. All of his firsts are being took from him without his consent. He looks around the room, seeing everyone in various positions, with expressions ranging from pain to awkwardness to enjoyment. To these people, who now own his life, he is simply a number. He is one of eleven in this room, one of over a hundred at this house, and one of thousands overall. They don’t really care about him as a person, only as a four digit number – ten digits on paper with his full ID number. He might as well be a cow, being fattened up before being taken the slaughter house.

“5226,” Slapper growls in warning. Out of panic, Blaine pushes his index finger in. He did it too fast however, as soon as it was in he felt the an intense delayed pain. Biting his lip to prevent himself from screaming out, he leans forwards so his chest is on the bench, just to the side of the lube. He notices Tina follow his lead, and a few others already in an identical position. Shutting his eyes, he waits for the pain to numb slightly before moving his finger around.

Keeping his eyes shut, he starts slowly pulling his finger in and out, gently stretching the muscles. The burn is less intense now, but defiantly still there, not yet ready for his middle finger to join its companion.

“Next.” He hears from above, raising his eyes – although not his head – he sees Slapper looking it him. He doesn’t add the finger straight away, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take it. Even during his first time, with Hunter, he was more stretched before the second finger went in.

The next thing he is aware of is an intense stinging from his left cheek, his head thrown to the right from the impact of the slap.  “Ouch,” he mutters under his breath. But obviously not quiet enough.

“What did you just say whore?”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t mean to,” he replies earnestly.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t... Have you not learnt this isn’t about you yet? Oh, you will be sorry slut.” With that she leaves. Blaine would have preferred her shout at him there and then. At least he would have known what was coming, instead of giving her time to come up with a worse punishment. He sees her pulling out the purple butt plug she showed earlier, and Blaine’s heart drops. He might not be a mind reader, but he knew exactly what was going to happen with that.


 

He limps to lunch with the rest of the subs. Thankfully Slapper had stretched him a little before the plug was pushed in, but no where near as much as what he would had done. There wasn’t any blood, which quite surprised him, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t feel like being torn in two. He expects she only stretched him since his hole is the most valuable part of him now, and you have to look after valuable things. Shame his life is no longer considered valuable to those in charge of it.

They had spent a lot of time in the classroom, even once the plugs where all in. Blaine thinks it was more talking about pleasing your Master, but he was focusing too much on the pain from the plug to pay attention to anything else. By the time they make it to the canteen area it is an acceptable time for lunch.

The canteen is the busiest Blaine had seen it so far, clearly a lot of sessions finishing at similar times. As he walks to collect one of the identical food trays – good job he doesn’t have any food alleges – he feels the eyes of all the other subs. Looking around, he notices most of them are looking at him and his group with either jealousy or sadness. It was not the looks he was expecting; why on earth would they be jealous of what they had endured today?

He follows Nick after picking up his tray, taking it to sit down in the centre of the room, furthest away from all the guards. Despite sitting on his knees – he is in enough trouble today without unnecessarily causing more – he can’t find a position which doesn’t jostle the plug. He opts for kneeling down with his feet slightly apart as at least that doesn’t stimulate his prostate.

Looking at his plate, he siles slightly. Today they have a roast dinner, and what appears to be a glass of water but it more likely some drugged concoction. At least, a replica of one; no gravy – thankfully, since apparently it’s too much to provide cutlery for their once daily meal – and the meat being some processed thing tasting more like paper, but other than that it was a proper meal. Idly Blaine wonders who cooks, but assumes they have a chef on payroll. Maybe a few of the guards cook as well? Before he gets too caught up on the running of the house, he starts eating his meal as politely as he can, scooping the peas up in his hand in small quantities. He appears to be the only one worrying about manners, the older subs all eating as though it is their first meal in a week and if they don’t eat fast enough it will be took away. In this place, it isn’t too hard to imagine.

Once he finishes he returns his tray, plate and glass on top, to the little cubby hole next to the main counter, before leaving for the classroom with Tina and Max in tow. In the week and a bit they had been there, he had learnt the daily routine fairly quickly. Surprisingly, scarily quickly.

Reaching the classroom, he takes the same spot as earlier next to Tina, waiting for Brittany to join them and pop down next to him. He lowers his head in wait, his mind drifting to the blank space he found during his punishment after the auction.

He hears movement next to him, and looks up expecting to greet Brittany, but is met with the sight of Jacob. His mind struggles to find something to say, having not looked at him since he was caught.

“Hello Blaine,” Jacob speaks first. And how and Blaine not noticed that voice before? Defiantly American but with a slight British mix, as though he has spent his early years in the United Kingdom but with an American family. It’s subtle, but defiantly there.

“H...hi,” he stutters.

“I want you to know, I didn’t find earlier awkward. I see it as a compliment, you know, the whole phrase about copying being the highest form of praise and all that.” Blaine feels his cheeks getting warm, blushing.

“I... um... thanks?” He smiles, unsure of himself. “I... I thought you had a girlfriend?” He questions, although not really sure what it is he is questioning.

“I did. Before here. But she will not ever see me again, she was labelled a hum last year.”

“My old friends are saving to buy me and Nick. They visited us during the auction to tell us. Which is why we were punished – although not a direct result. Maybe she will come get you?”

“Hah,” he fakes a laugh. “She wont. She was a bit of a slut, always ‘punishing’ me.” He uses air quotes, obviously implying he didn’t find it a punishment in the slightest. “And just so you know,” he starts in a whisper. “I’m interested in guys too.” Blaine feels himself blushing furiously, unsure how to respond. Or why it appears Jacob is making advances on him, especially in their situation.

He is saved from answering by the appearance of Slapper – who was also followed by a clothed sub. Looking around in his peripheral vision, he discovers all the other subs had also arrived - unnoticed - during his short chat with Jacob.

“Now you all get to experience the pleasure of having someone’s mouth on you: blow jobs and eating out, depending on who you are paired with. The for the odd one of you, I have called one of the graduated subs to even the numbers.” She indicates the collared and clothed sub. Graduated subs. Blaine doesn’t like the use of that word, making it sound as though they are top class students getting a qualification. He can’t see cock sucking 101 taking off in schools. “Ok, in pairs: you two,” she says, indicating Max and Tina. “You two.” Blaine and Jacob. Blaine was sure he would be put with the older subs having been the one to misbehave, although is really excited to be able to put his earlier thoughts of Jacob into action. Blaine notices slapper is simply pairing people with those kneeling next to them, meaning Nick and Brittany are also paired together. She reaches the end of the second row, pairing the final female sub with the graduated sub, making them the only female pairing.

“Same thing as before. I’m just here to make sure you are doing it right.” As before, no one moves straight away. “Now!” She instructs exasperatedly.

Blaine turns his body to be looking at Jacob, his back to Nick. He sits the awkwardly, unsure how to proceed. Thankfully it appears Jacob does know; before Blaine opens his mouth to form a word, Jacob has his mouth open... and heading towards Blaine’s dick. Blaine lets out a gasp in shock, which appears to get Slapper’s attention.

“Not bad,” she informs Jacob. “I’m going to guess you have done this before?” Somehow Jacob manages to nod while still licking at Blaine’s cock in his mouth. The motion causes Blaine to gasp once again; Slapper changing her attention to Blaine.

“5226, don’t forget, you haven’t earnt your orgasm privileges back, you need to tell your partner just before you finish.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he replies, his head down in attempt to hide his blush. It seems to work in moving Slapper along, as her attention turns to Nick and Brittany. Blaine chuckles slightly at the sight, Brittany eagerly worshipping Nick’s balls, but Nick looking the most awkward person in the room, supporting a half hard dick. Knowing how far along they gay spectrum Nick is, he imagines his friend to be hating this experience.

Blaine looks back down to Jacob, and all thoughts of Nick leave his mind. Instead he focuses on the deliciously hot boy currently devouring his cock, one of Jacobs hands fondling his balls – the other one supporting to his weight in the crouched position. On the next thrust forwards Jacob takes Blaine all the way down his throat, his nose in Blaine’s short pubic hair – having not had access to a razor since being taken into holding.

“OMG Jacob!” Blaine exclaims. He can’t comprehend how he was able to have his focus on Nick for so long. “You need to stop or I’m going to cum.” However Jacob ignores his statement, instead becoming more determined to get Blaine off. The hand originally on his balls moves to his cock, replacing Jacob’s mouth as he comes up for a breath, keeping an almost continuous tight heat.

“Please...” stop, Blaine begs. “Please...” stop. But he can’t get that second word out, not with the wonders Jacob is working on his dick. “Jacob, I need you to stop!” But Blaine’s accompanying groan seems to imply otherwise. “I can’t come, you need to stop.” Blaine starts panicking, finally able to get his message across, pushing at Jacob’s shoulders as well. However it appears Jacob took it as a challenge to make Blaine orgasm. “Please,” He begs half heartily, knowing it is too late anyway. He erupts into Jacobs mouth, unable to stop himself. He feels Jacob swallowing as he rides out his orgasm.

Jacob sits up, smirking, some of Blaine’s cum still on his lips. Next to Jacob however, is none other than Slapper, who Blaine reasons must have seen the whole thing.

Chapter Text

Nothing happens straightaway. He isn’t taken to be whipped, he isn’t slapped, he isn’t even shouted at. Instead everyone is informed the lesson was over and to head back to their cell. Blaine would have preferred shouting to the look given by his peers over that announcement, several seeming to be enjoying that particular class.

He would have also taken the shouting over the unknown, the anticipation of awaiting his punishment. He doesn’t know what is going to happen, he did disobey a direct order, so it’s only fair he has to face the consequence. But it hadn’t been completely his own fault, and Slapper must have seen the whole exchange and realised that, hadn’t she?

When his group arrive at their cell, Blaine heads straight to into his cage, not talking to anyone. He knows they will all blame the loss on him, and doesn’t feel in the mood to put up with the glares from his peers, so he opts to hide. Jacob and Nick both attempt to get him to come down from his cage, but he simply ignores them, turning his back on the remainder of the room. Eventually they both give up and leave him, joining in the conversation with Brittany and Tina.

Surprisingly he doesn’t hear his name mentioned by anyone. Or even his number – since he supposes most of the group would have heard him only addressed by that. After an unknown amount of time, the chat in the cell stops abruptly.

“5226, 8263, with me,” he hears a voice demand. He was expecting it to be Slapper, so was surprised to realise it was a male voice. He idly wonders how they seem to know his and Jacob’s numbers; there are over 100 subs on the site, each with a 4 digit ID, there is no way an ordinary human can remember that many numbers. But then maybe they don’t have to remember most of them. Blaine realises few have been directly addressed, only those misbehaving. And even then, Blaine realises they could simply look at the tattooed ID peaking out over their collar. He also bets they have a file on everyone, having physically seen his in the holding centre, which they likely looked at before coming to get him and Jacob.

Blaine jumps down from his cell, and takes his time as he walks over the guard, head down, refusing to acknowledge any of the looks that might be thrown at him by his peers. When he sees the shoed feet belonging to the guard he stops, waiting. He is surprised to find how much the lack of shoes bothers him, considering his complete nakedness anyway, but it just highlights his hopelessness even more, making him feel more exposed than seems reasonable.

The shoes move, walking away from him and breaking Blaine from his thoughts. Even without an audible instruction, he knows he is to follow the guard. He wonders if he has already met this guard before, but since he didn’t look up Blaine can’t tell.

He and Jacob are lead down several corridors that he recognises, before a few he doesn’t. They reach a door the guard stops in front of, surprising Blaine and almost causing him to walk into him. Luckily he notices in time – he would hate to discover the consequence if he hadn’t. The guard knocks three times before dropping his hand and patiently waiting. Blaine feels at a loss for what to do, confused as to why the guard doesn’t simply help himself to the room. He lifts his head slightly, making eye contact with Jacob - stood next to him - but the returning unsure expression doesn’t give him any indication Jacob knows what to do or what is happening either. He decides on his safest bet; dropping his head once again in submission.

He hears a beckoning call from behind the door, and his heart plummets at the recognition of the voice, or more importantly the owner of that voice. Of course, the only person a guard wouldn’t barge in on; Hunter.

The guard opens the door and walks in, Blaine reluctantly follows behind Jacob before coming to a stop next to him. The first thing that hits him is the change in surface under his feet. The room is carpeted. Blaine scrunches his toes, floating in the sensation of the soft blue fabric under his feet. It made a change from the concreate floors throughout the rest of the building.

Hunter looks up from the paperwork he had been tidying, obviously having paused his work in anticipation of addressing the visitors. Hunter’s eyes roam over the other two occupants of the room before landing on Blaine. Blaine hadn’t realised he had brought his head up until he locks eye contact with Hunter. He instantly notices the lust in Hunter’s eyes, obviously still wanting to own Blaine personally – the prospect makes Blaine’s skin crawl. He instantly drops his gaze, realising his mistake. He hunches his shoulders as well, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Thank you for bringing them, Rob.” Thankfully, it appears Hunter is going to ignore his slip up. Blaine is almost surprised the guard has a name; having made them up for all the others it seems a strange concept; these people being humans, with names and families and lives outside of what he sees of them. Bitterly he wishes he still had a name, rather than those four numbers.

“No prob Hunt,” the guard – Rob – replies as though the two where best friends. “Have you been able to approve my holiday requests?” He asks, ignoring the fact he is in the room with two listening subs.

“Not yet I’m afraid. I’m still trying to pull some strings and work out some math but everyone else got there before you, and I don’t think I can do anything about it.” Blaine really wishes he knew exactly what was going on. It sounds as though Rob was after holiday leave, but the idea of booking holiday was a strange concept to Blaine, to the teenager side of him more so than the sub side. He never really put much thought into adults taking holiday from work, and it sees strange to consider the guards are here just like it’s any other job - they come across too invested in being abusive to their charges to also be worrying about their holiday pay.

“Damn. I really was hoping to be with my family over Christmas this year.” Blaine internally scoffs; he would love to see his family as well, but they’re not going to let that happen are they! Rob turns and heads out the door. Before leaving he speaks up once more. “I’ve still got my fingers crossed though Hunt!” He says with a chuckle.

“I’m still trying Rob!” Hunter replies with a smile. Finally he turns his full attention to the matter at hand, his expression darkening, glaring at Blaine and Jacob in turn. Hunter sighs exasperatedly, before composing himself and addressing the two subs.

“I’ve been told why you are here, but I both want you to tell me in your own words,” Hunter orders. Blaine thinks it’s a trick question, a test maybe – although it was anyone’s guess to what he was being tested on. “You may both look up.” So Blaine does, feeling a bit more composed, but still not making eye contact with Hunter. He had been told countless of times what would happen if he did look a superior in the eyes, and he is in enough trouble already – serious enough to be took to the boss to be dealt with. He realises he still hasn’t provided an answer.

“I orgasmed when I was denied the privilege, after already misbehaving previously?” Blaine replies in question, not sure if that is the answer Hunter was looking for. “Master,” he adds after a moment, knowing the title is expected.

“And what was that previous misbehaviour?” Hunter prompts, ignoring his delay.

“I put my own desires above Ma’am’s order, Master?” That’s not entity how Blaine pictured the event, but he thinks it’s how Hunter would want to hear the confession.

“Good boy.” Blaine hates that he has started loving the patronising praise, his insides going all floppy and squidgy in the knowledge he has done something right for once, and this time was no exception. He drops his head to try and hide his reaction from Hunter. “I have to own up, half of me is happy you keep playing up, it will lower your value to a price I can afford. However I would hate for you to be covered in disgusting permanent scars.” A shiver runs down his spine, not wanting to even imagine what his life would be like as Hunter’s personal bitch. Hunter looks at Jacob - appearing to have finished with Blaine for the time being - wordlessly prompting him to respond to the same question.

“I don’t know, no one told me I did anything wrong,” Jacob responds with a cocky grin, almost daring Hunter to do something. Blaine had become slightly more practiced than Jacob in what was expected when in trouble – not that he is happy about the fact. Blaine cringes in preparation of what Hunter’s reaction will be, dropping his head to try and make himself as small and unnoticeable as possible. However, shockingly, Hunter doesn’t seem even the slightest bit affected by the response, not taking the bait.

“Well then...” he pauses for a moment, “What’s your name?”

“Jacob.”

“I see you need a reminder - I guarantee you have been told before - but that name no longer belongs to you, does it now?” He asks in an almost condescending tone. “Shall we try again? What is your name boy?”

“Jacob,” he replies once again, in a tone with a finality Blaine can almost imagine going with a stomping foot, exactly like a toddler would when arguing with a parent. Blaine hears Hunter get up and walk over to the pair, coming to a stop behind Jacob. He looks up out of the corner of his eye, needing to see what is happening.

Hunter forcefully pushes Jacobs head down, stretching the back of his neck taught.

“8236,” Hunter says, apparently reading it from Jacob’s tattooed ID. “Dash six,” he adds. “Sometimes I wonder why we let people get retested, as all the late bloomers always seem so much more arrogant.” So Jacob and Nick both have an extra six in their ID, making Jacob older than Blaine. He had been under the impression it was rare to have people fail the test on their second attempt, yet he now knows two people just from his ‘class’ that had. Blaine wonders if it is just a coinsidence, but he has discovered countless of lies so far, so this could have easily been another.

“You asked for my name, not the numbers I have been given,” Jacob says in retaliation, with mock superiority. Blaine hears the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and watches as Jacob brings his hand up to cover his quickly reddening cheek.

Hunter doesn’t respond, which confuses Blaine the most. Instead he simply walks back behind his desk, sitting down and picking up a radio device.

“Can I have Robert back to office please,” he says into the radio.

“Is it urgent I get there now?” He hears the reply after a moment, slightly broken up with static. Blaine’s impression of Hunter was initially ‘don’t dare say no’, however it appears the rule only applies to subs.

“It’s not essential you drop what you are doing, but as soon as you can please.”

“Sure thing boss.” With that, Hunter drops the radio back onto his desk. Blaine is surprised they communicate with such a simplistic device, especially considering how much money is in the system. He then turns back to Blaine and Jacob, almost as though he had forgotten they were still there.

“Well then 8263. Lets try again, from the beginning. You have heard Blaine’s confession, I now want to hear yours. As a hint, it occurred at the same time.” Hunter stays sat down, elbows on the table, hands clasped together pointing up, and chin resting on said hands. His whole demure shouts relaxed and calm. Blaine doesn’t know how this man is able to keep his external emotions so passive, not when Blaine knows how scary he can become if he wants to.

“I’m not sure,” Jacob replies, losing some of his earlier confidence. Blaine realises Jacob is just as disturbed as himself by Hunter’s attitude.

Hunter opens a draw in his desk, pulling out a small black box a similar size to the radio, before walking over to stand behind Jacob.

“On your knees please boy.” The relaxed tone is what causes Jacob to obey, worried over what this man is truly capable off. As soon as his knees hit the floor – less than gracefully - Hunter presses the black box against Jacob’s back with a click, directly over his almost healed brand. Jacob screams, far too loud in the tiny room. It’s at that point Blaine realises he recognises the black box, Hunter having used one on him before; a taser.

The scream cuts of suddenly, Hunter slapping Jacob’s cheek again – the other one this time, giving him matching reddening marks – as he removes the taser. Jacob collapses onto the floor, his muscles relaxing after the forced contraption.

“Shall we try again? Here is another incentive for you to come up with an answer I’m looking for. Whether you think you have done something wrong or not, you will suffer punishment, but if you can’t give me an appropriate answer, it’s only going to make it worse for you by ten fold.” Blaine sees the exact moment Jacob gives in, his expression going from one of anger and annoyance to one of resignation and surrender. It’s a drastic change and almost instantaneous, Jacob having obviously been fighting himself internally for longer than it appeared.

“I didn’t stop when I was told to by Blaine, even thought I knew I should. And I knew by continuing it would cause him to disobey his own order, yet I continued anyway. I apologise Master.” Blaine is in shock of Jacob’s confession. He knew Jacob had ignored his plea to stop, but didn’t realise he was aware of the consequence it would cause Blaine. He thought Jacob had just gotten carried away with the moment, but instead Jacob was purposely being an ass.

“Well,” Hunter starts, walking back to his desk. “That’s more of a confession than I was expecting. And it brings new light to the situation.” Hunter sits in his chair, resting his chin on his hands once again, almost as though contemplating what to do with the two subs. At that moment Blaine hears a knock on the door. Hunter calls the visitor in.

“Hey Hunt,” Rob greats. “What can I do for ya?”

“Can you take 8263 to the post. How ever many lashes it takes for him to pass out, and then a few more on top of that for good measure.” Blaine may not understand everything Hunter is instructing, but he assumes the post is the same as Nick was taken to on the first day to be whipped. It appears Jacob is going to receive a similar punishment. Blaine doesn’t want to consider what his punishment may be if Jacob has something that serious, when it was Blaine who disobeyed the direct order.

“Anything else?” Rob asks.

“No I think that will do. Leave him there over night but let him back in the group come morning. I want to personally deal with 5226.” With that, Rob makes his exit with Jacob, linking Jacob’s cuffs together in front of him as they leave through the door. Blaine turns back to face Hunter once the door has shut, hating being on his own in the room with the evil Master. Somehow it feels much more intimate like this, just the two of them with the door closed – despite being unlocked, Blaine knows he is unable to leave.

He takes a deep breath in anticipation of whatever it is Hunter has to say. Surprisingly he doesn’t say anything, instead standing up – does he ever stay in one place for any length of time? – and walking to the door.

“Follow me,” he commands. Blaine goes without question, following Hunter down countless corridors to an unknown designation. Blaine wonders if he will ever cover the layout of the entire building, other than just the rooms he is used to. He doubts it; the place is large enough to take four times the amount of people it actually has.

Eventually they arrive at their destination, only for Blaine to freeze in shock.

Chapter Text

Blaine instantly recognises the room they arrive at; it’s bed in the centre, the hooks and pulleys around the walls, the draws containing everything needed to rape a victim. This is the first room in which he started understanding what it meant to be a sub. The room Hunter stole his virginity in. Blaine drops to his knees, hoping a similar thing isn’t about to happen again, but deep down knowing he is powerless to stop it if that’s what Hunter wants.

“Please Master, please no,” he begs, needing to do something.

“Stay there,” Hunter requests, leaving the room. Blaine doesn’t know how much time passes, his legs going numb, not having dared move a muscle. Eventually Hunter reappears, and to Blaine’s relief, is still fully clothed. He is carrying a bucket in one hand and a bag in the other, and without acknowledging Blaine, he throws the bag on the edge of the bed and places the bucket down with a heavy thump. Blaine notices a little bit of water splash over the edge of the buckets rim, landing on the floor in a puddle.

“Come lay on your back,” Hunter orders. Blaine obeys instantly, fearing what’s going to be done with the water. As soon as he is on his back, Hunter pulls out a short leash, clipping one end to Blaine’s collar and the other to the eye bolt in the centre of the bed, exactly how he was restrained last time he was in this room. He expects Hunter to restrain his hands next, however he simply goes to open the bag, leaving Blaine’s arms by his sides. Blaine watches Hunter’s every move. He sees as Hunter pulls a can from out the bag, and squirts a tiny amount of it’s contents onto his hand, rubbing it between two fingers before carelessly wiping it off onto the bed sheet, for no apparent reason. As soon as it is out of the can, Blaine recognises the blue, slightly foaming liquid. His suspicions are confirmed when Hunter pulls out a disposable razor from the bag; something of his is getting shaved.

Hunter lays the razor on his stomach, not pushing it to cut him, simply rested on his stomach, before squirting a large amount of gel directly onto Blaine’s crotch. He can’t help but flinch away, the gel being shockingly cold. When Hunter starts rubbing the gel to cover all of his hair Blaine can’t help but squirm. In a very short amount of time a man he doesn’t trust is going to be putting a very sharp object to the most sensitive part of his anatomy.

“Oh stay still slut,” Hunter complains, accompanied by a harsh slap to Blaine’s thigh. Blaine whimpers, but tries to relax his muscles into compliance. He hears the sloshing of water before he notices that Hunters hand has gone, rinsing it in the bucket. As much as Blaine is relieved the hand has gone, he is more anxious of it’s return.

Hunter picks up the razor with his right hand and removes the safety cover with his left, before cupping Blaine’s dick with said left hand. He pulls his hand down, stretching the skin between his stomach and cock, before gently trailing the razor downwards in small strokes, cutting the hair in it’s path. Once all of the hair from the top is removed, Hunter rinsing the blade after every couple of strokes, he pulls Blaine’s length to the side, out of the way for him to cut the side hair.

Hunter makes his way all around Blaine’s cock and balls, before starting on his length itself. He grabs it about half way down, then gently pulls the skin flat, hopefully making it easier to safely shave. Blaine is surprised at how gentle Hunter is being, especially since this is meant to be a punishment. Wasn’t it? Blaine hopes this isn’t in preparation of something else. Hunter seems to realise what Blaine is thinking, as he starts to address the unvoiced questions.

“Make sure you stay still for this bit especially boy. I can’t really put you in a cock cage if you have a huge cut, and I’m too tired to have to become more creative. Plus, I’m sure you don’t want your dick sliced in half.” Blaine makes a move to shake his head in agreement, but then remembers exactly what Hunter just said, and instantly freezes in the motion. He really doesn’t want a sliced dick. Hunter chuckles and pats Blaine’s leg, surprising Blaine with the more soothing gesture. He finds himself smiling along with Hunter. Hunter picks up the can again, squirting more of the liquid on Blaine, this time to his balls.

“Hold this out the way,” Hunter instructs, indicating his cock. Blaine reaches his hand across his body, pulling it out the way for Hunter. As soon as he has stopped moving, Hunter carefully adjusts his balls to allow the razor to glide over a smooth surface. Just as Blaine starts thanking mother nature for getting through this soft, he starts feeling a slowly filling swell in his hand. He drops his head back with a grunt, his stupid cock never making anything easy for him, even after the trouble it caused earlier. Thankfully his movement doesn’t cause Hunter’s hand to jostle, and Hunter doesn’t seem to notice.

Hunter gets up and walks over to the edge of the room, dropping the razor in a different bucket Blaine thinks might be a bin. When he returns he goes to the bag, pulling out a small wash cloth. He dips it in the now dirty water, squeezing it to stop it from dripping, before using it to wipe of the excess foaming gel. Blaine is reluctant to move his hand, allowing Hunter to see his reaction, but after a more insistent nudge he lets go. To Blaine’s surprise, Hunter doesn’t comment on his hardened member, he simply continues cleaning of the gel and then checking the area for any little nips or missed hair. Apparently he doesn’t see anything concerning, chucking the cloth into the bucket and the gel back into the bag, and leaving the room without comment.

Blaine knows he could reach up and unhook the leash, it only being a simple snap clip like on a dog’s leash, however he doesn’t have the energy to. That’s not completely true, he argues with himself, you don’t have the energy to survive the punishment for it. He knows if Hunter wanted him to leave Blaine would have been unclipped. He relaxes into the pillows, drifting into the best sleep he has had in the last two weeks.

Chapter Text

Blaine is woken up by the slamming of the door. He jumps to full alertness, quickly getting his bearings.

“Rise and shine sleepy head,” Hunter calls in a far too cheery voice. Blaine assumes he must have slept through the whole night. He is shocked to find he had been allowed on the bed all night; so far this punishment seeming more of a reward. A month ago he would have considered the bed to be awfully uncomfortable, however a week in a cell at the holding centre and a week in a cage has really lowered the bar on what he considers comfortable. He grumbles in response.

Hunter walks over to one of the cabinets in the room, opposite the door, sorting through several draws in search of something. Blaine starts getting incredibly nervous – there is only one thing this room is used for as far as Blaine is aware - so he can have a good guess at the types of implements are in the cupboards.

When Hunter turns round, Blaine is relieved to see him flourishing a cock cage. He never thought the words relieved and cock cage would appear in the same sentence, however it’s a much better option than the torture items he had pictured in his mind.

The cage goes on surprisingly easily, being slightly larger than Blaine’s own dick. Hunter soon has the pins in place and is locking it on. Blaine rolls and rotates his hips slightly, adjusting to the feeling of it. He had never worn one before, and turns out it isn’t as comfortable as he excepted. Which makes sense because, hey, it’s a stiff metal cage encasing his sensitive area! He drastically hopes nothing causes him to become aroused while wearing the cage, the slight space in it would allow a painful half erection.

He makes a move to sit up, no sooner has he moved his head there is a tug on his collar, pulling him back down. Blaine had forgotten he was tied to the bed by the leash still. However Hunter had watched the movement and decides to unhook the lead from the bed – leaving the other end still attached to his collar – allowing Blaine to sit up but not letting him free. As soon as he is upright, Blaine moves onto the floor by Hunter’s feet, still within the range of the short leash.

“Good boy,” he praises. Blaine feels himself blushing, doing something correctly and getting praise from his Master. “To explain what is going to happen. You are going to have that on for the next three or so weeks,” he indicates to the metal cage covering Blaine’s sensitive anatomy. “It comes off on the same day the next batch of subs arrive. That is your punishment for cumming; which is just the standard punishment throughout the year. However because you came, not only did you disobey an order, it also resulted in you not fulfilling your initial punishment which put you in that position in the first place.

“Therefore you need a second part to your punishment. You are going to be with me almost all hours around the clock for the next week. It will give you a rough idea what it will be like once your training time is up, and it will help you remember who you actually belong to; you are not to think for yourself or about yourself, and the best way to understand is to put it into practice.

“You will be excused for occasional lessons, ones that I deem essential to your training and which you will not pick up from your time with me. However as soon as you are out of the class you are to return directly to my side. You will get your meal when I say, you will use the toilet when I think you are desperate enough, and you will come home with me in the evenings. Now I am putting a lot of faith in you and myself with taking you out of the facility so early in your training, but I feel it is an appropriate learning experience.”

Blaine tries to absorb all the information, but before he gets a chance to start understanding what he is in for he is being yanked by the leash; Hunter walking away from Blaine without a backwards glance. He jumps up and hastens to catch up with Hunter, allowing some slack on the leash between his collar and Hunter’s hand.

Blaine follows Hunter once again down unknown corridors – it seeming to become a theme, not knowing where he is. They finally arrive at a door, and upon entering Blaine recognises it as Hunter’s office. He is led to kneel in a tight corner – sharing it with a radiator and a book shelf – and the other end of his leash is looped round the pipe to the radiator and clipped back on itself, effectively attaching him to it. Blaine knows he could easily undo it himself, but thinks it might be all part of a larger test, so instead he stays kneeling in the corner.


Time passes and nothing happens. No one visits, Hunter doesn’t move from his desk, and Blaine doesn’t dare move from his position. The only thing really note worthy to Blaine was his steadily increasing need for the toilet. Also, the carpet he loved earlier turns out to be incredibly abrasive on his knees. Blaine is surprised at how boring his punishment is; he has already counted all the tiles on the ceiling, all the stains on the tiles, and even worked out the average number of stains per title. He is about to start counting the marks on the walls when he hears a knock on the door. Finally, something is about to happen.

Hunter doesn’t give any recognition he has heard the knock, and Blaine starts wondering if he was going mad and imagined it. Before that thought can worm its way too far into Blaine’s mind, Hunter calls to the person outside, allowing them in.

“Hello Hunter,” greets the new arrival. Blaine relaxes at the sound of the voice – not having realised he was tense to start with. Although he wasn’t keen on Stretch, he certainly didn’t seem the worst of the bunch.

“Hey,” Hunter replies. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve got the files you asked for.” Blaine watches him hand over a bunch of about five brown paper folders, all ranging in thickness. “Also,” he continues, “I would like to have a talk with you. Would you be ok me sitting now?”

“I don’t mind. Although you have to be warned there are other ears listening in,” Hunter responds in his ever relaxed manner. Blaine hears a questioning noise of a reply, before Stretch turns round and notices Blaine kneeling in the corner, apparently for the first time. Blaine drops his gaze submissively, despite already having his head down.

“Oh.” Stretch seems to be considering asking a follow up question, but decides not to bother. It reminds Blaine of something Stretch had said before: I never get told anything here anyway. He wonders if that is how the whole system works; everyone does their job but doesn’t really understand what is happening elsewhere. He realises he has missed part of the conversation and tries to catch up. In his defence, it is the first slightly entertaining thing to happen in the office.

“...So therefore I am handing in my one months notice.” Damn Blaine and his brain’s drifting, he has missed the most interesting bit! He shifts slightly on his knees, starting to become uncomfortably desperate for the toilet.

“...Anyway, congratulations! I think you will be more comfortable in that position than here,” Hunter reasons. Blaine was too distracted on his needs than what was being said, he missed the good bit again.

“I hope so too. And at the holding centres there will be much less time guarding subs, so I can step back from it for a while.” Blaine thinks it sounds like Stretch will be taking a similar role to the one Puck had. Surprisingly, he could see him in that role. He just wishes he had been paying less attention to his toilet need to have heard the whole discussion. Ironically, paying attention to others is the objective of his punishment, even if not exactly for the same reason. Stretch and Hunter say their good byes, Hunter confirming Stretch’s leaving date as he walks out of the door. Blaine fidgets once more, however this time his discomfort must appear on his face.

“What is it boy?” Hunter asks exasperatedly.

“I’m sorry Master, but I could do with using the facilities,” Blaine answers, trying to be a sub-ish as he can.

“Hold on a sec,” he shouts to the retreating guard. “Can you take this slut to have a piss please? The boy’s cell might be the easiest place to take him.”

“Which one is that?” Stretch asks. “And do you want him brought back here after?”

“He’s from the July intake. And yes please. Although actually,” he says, looking at his watch, “Can you get him to shower as well please? I’m going to be heading home soon and I don’t want him using my bathroom untrained. But yes, still bring him back here after, I will wait for you.”

“Of course I can,” Stretch replies with a smile. He walks over to Blaine, wordlessly unclipping his leash from the pipe and leading him through the corridors before finally arriving back at his old cell.

When they get there Blaine is relieved to see no one else had yet arrived. He knows other subs are going to see him eventually, but he would appreciate a little bit of time to prepare for the encounter. Stretch unclips the leash from his collar, and Blaine walks straight into the washroom area, knowing that’s where he should be, but quickly discovers an issue. With the cock cage on, there is no way he can pee standing up! It isn’t possible to get the correct angle. He turns to send a questioning glance to Stretch, but it appears he is more interested in his phone. Blaine sighs, wishing he still had a phone, even if he just used it to say goodbye to all his friends. He wonders what might have happened to his old phone, left at his parents house. However he turns his attention back to the task at hand, a problem he has the ability to solve.

After a moments careful consideration, Blaine moves to squat over the toilet, knees facing the wall. He quickly discovers how stupid he looks in the position, a chuckle from Stretch being directed at him. He steps back and considers it again. Maybe if he just sat on it normally?

Turns out, sitting was the solution. Blaine feels capital S silly for not realising that straight away. Once finished, he looks to Stretch for direction. He knew Hunter wanted him to shower, but wasn’t sure if he was meant to pretend he hadn’t heard, like he thinks is the case with Stretch’s resignation.

“Shower,” he orders in a no nonsense tone, still not looking up from his phone. Blaine makes his way to the other side of the room and turns on the shower, all the time not looking away from Stretch. He picks up the shampoo/body wash and quickly cleans himself down, not in a rush to get back to Hunter, but desperate to exit the cold spray.

Blaine shut of the water, and stands looking a little lost. Should he wait? Should he go over to Stretch? Should he be doing something else completely? He watches Stretch, still on his phone, in the hope of receiving some kind of signal.

Eventually, after an awkward thirty seconds or so, Stretch shuts of his phone and drops it into his trouser pocket.

“Finished?” He asks. Blaine nods in reply. With a heavy puff of air, as though Stretch is collecting himself, he stands up straight and walks towards Blaine, reattaching the leash and leading him out. As they exit the cell, Blaine collides with another body, having been looking down as he walking.

He looks up in curiosity, and is met by the sight of Jacob. Blaine takes in his appearance, trying to work out what exactly happened to him, but aside from looking solemn, he appears fine.

“Come on.” He feels a sharp tug on his neck from the leash being pulled, Stretch trying to drag him along. Blaine goes without comment. However as soon as he has caught up to Stretch’s side he looks back round at Jacob, and he misses a step. Jacob’s back is littered in marks, clearly from a whip. Most of them had also broken the skin, the whole of Jacob’s back being covering in crusty dried blood. Blaine feels guilty; it was his disobedience that put those marks there, no matter what others say. If he had done what he was told, his (cute) friend wouldn’t have been hurt. He corrects his footing before Stretch notices, and continues following behind.

Chapter Text

Blaine and Hunter leave the building out through a back door, most likely a staff entrance. Although Blaine hasn’t seen the front of the building, he expects it to be some grand foyer that would impress even the wealthiest of clients, far from the litter filled car park he is greeted by.

Blaine is surprised to find it isn’t dark outside, like he had expected, but in fact the sun is at it’s highest point in the sky, approximately noon. After mostly being exposed to the harsh artificial lights within the compound, he finds the natural sunlight almost painful. He squints, trusting Hunter to guide him in the right direction.

Hunter comes to an abrupt halt, fishing his keys from his jeans pocket and unlocking the car they are standing behind. Blaine is surprised to realize Hunter owns a battered old Peugeot, having been expecting something of much higher class. He opens the trunk of the car, stacking various odds and ends on the left hand side of the area. Hunter unclips Blaine’s leash, the item joining the stack of stuff in the trunk. He turns back to face Blaine.

Blaine stays looking back at Hunter – eyes slightly adverted of course – unsure of what Hunter is wanting from him, for an awkward amount of time.

“In,” he orders, finally realizing Blaine genuinely doesn’t understand.

“What? In there? I can’t fit in th-“ he is cut off by a slap across his cheek.

“You will be getting in there, and you will learn some respect, whore,” he responds aggressively, scaring Blaine. “Now get in the fucking trunk!” Blaine has never moved as fast in his life. “You will be staying in there the rest of the day for your indolence. The quicker you do something, the less consequences you suffer.” Without further comment, the trunk lid is brought down and slammed shut, the parcel shelf being brought down with it.

Although Blaine does manage to fit, his ass forced into the back corner with his knees upwards and his head between them, it is the most uncomfortable position he has had the fortune to be in; yet. A little bit of shifting around enables him to be slightly more comfortable, moving some sort of blanket to allow his legs a little more room.

He doesn’t understand why he is in the trunk. Fair enough not letting him ride shot gun, but to be shoved in the trunk like some kind of animal is humiliating. Although, he is sure an animal would be allowed more space, not being cramped between the parcel shelf and a stack of various clutter. Blaine feels as though he is undergoing the same treatment as the clutter, a random object to be used and disposed of as the owner sees suitable. As the engine starts up, and the vehicle starts moving, all thoughts vanish in favor of trying to stay upright. He had never really considered how rough a journey could be without being able to predict the direction of motion or sitting in the comfort of a seat. 


 

Blaine’s right leg has completely gone numb, his backside not far from suffering the same fate. The engine of the car had stopped several hours ago. He heard Hunter exit the vehicle, but soon realized he was not going to get the same privilege. Initially he tried to find some sort of latch that would let himself out, but after the movement painfully trapped a nerve in his leg he abandoned the task.

He hears movement on the gravel outside the car, before the trunk is finally opened. The sight that greats him is unexpected.

First, the sun has made it’s way down from it’s highest point in the sky and is now slowly disappearing behind the horizon. Second, it was not Hunter who opened the door, instead a fair haired girl stands before him, her collar and wrist cuffs standing out on her naked body.

“Hi,” Blaine greets, putting his hand out in the hope the fellow sub will help him out of the tight space. Instead she ignores it, glaring daggers at Blaine. He starts trying to scramble out of the car, albeit somewhat clumsily.

“What the fuck are you here for?” She asks accusingly. Blaine freezes in his motion, shocked by the girls words, contradicting her innocent looks. He did not expect the small framed girl to swear.

“I... I...” he stutters, all his known vocabulary temporarily forgotten. “It’s a punishment from Hunter.”

“He is Sir to you.”

“He told us all he is Master?” He responds, finally freeing himself from the tangle of blankets wrapped around his legs, exiting the trunk. The girl seems to consider him for a moment, head cocked to the side.

“Are you still in training?”

“The sub house?” Blaine asks in clarification. “Yes. I’ve only been there for less than a month.” This seems to satisfy the girl, who spins on her heals and heads towards a door around the back of the house. Blaine follows.

They arrive in what appears to be a laundry room, one wall covered in coats and the other with a washing machine and various cupboards. Blaine trips over a pair of shoes discarded on the floor, tumbling into Sophia. Lucky she stops Blaine from falling, but the glare he receives makes him wish he had hit the floor. He adverts his gaze to the floor, carefully watching for more trip hazards. They walk through a restaurant sized kitchen before entering the foyer, looking like how he had imaging the sub house entrance.

They come to a stop in front of Hunter, him apparently having been waiting for the two to appear. “Sophia, show this slut around,” Hunter instructs the girl. “He will be your responsibility, he is to learn from you. Although I always expect it, best behavior this week.” Without a dismissal, Hunter strides out through a door opposite the one the pair arrived through.

Blaine looks at the girl, who moves her head to indicate the direction they are to go, and follows behind in silence.

“So,” she starts accusingly, making Blaine jump as they reach the second set of stairs. "What is this punishment for? I haven’t seen Master bring someone home before,” her eyes narrowing

“I... I don’t really know...” Blaine does know, he is just incredibly embarrassed by it all. “I didn’t do as I was told?”

“A mistake everyone makes before they learn to listen to their Master. You are lying. I think you are here so you can start learning how Master likes everything done, ready to replace me.” Blaine can almost feel physical hatred from her words. “I will not have you showing me up. I am not being returned to the sub house.”

“Why? Is Hunter nice to you?” Blaine honestly doesn’t understand why anyone would want to stay with the man, who never seems to take a break from being evil.

“No. But at least I know where I stand with him, and what he wants. It’s better than the unknown.” Blaine doesn’t respond, considering her words. He doesn’t like it at the sub house, but expects being owned would be worse. If he could choose between staying and risking the unknown, he would choose to stay there. And, although Blaine wont admit it to Sophia, she raises a good point on why he is really there. Of course, Hunter had explained why, but there could easily be an ulterior motive. He hasn’t pretended he isn’t interested in having Blaine.

“This is guest room one,” Sophia announces opening the door, bringing Blaine back to the present. “It doesn’t need dealing with often as I always keep it stocked and clean. But when Master has visitors I always make sure I give it a quick once over so it is in top condition. Dust settles quickly. Each guest room has it’s own en-suit.”

They make their way back down the corridor, Sophia explaining in turn how the top floor has two large guest bedrooms, a small meeting room, and Hunter’s office.

“You do not go in Master’s office. No matter the circumstances.” Blaine nods in understanding.

Making their way back down, the next floor has another guest room, this one slightly smaller, a meeting room, and Hunters room.

“Master often has guests from the OSO. His house almost acts like HQ sometimes.” Sophia opens the door to Hunter’s room, and Blaine follows Sophia through the large room to a second door. “This is my room.” She opens the door to what Blaine thinks may have once been a walk in closet. It now only contains a rotten mattress on the floor. There is also a second door which Sophia explains leads to a small washroom, not shared with Hunter.

“I have the bed. I will let you sleep on the floor.” She leaves no room for argument, leaving before Blaine could comment. He chases after Sophia, catching up with her on the landing.

“The storage room is next to Hunter’s,” she points to another door, this one looking less grand than the others, he has seen so far.

Making their way back to the ground floor, Blaine can’t help but worry about getting disorientated. Sure, everything is in nice straight lines, but that in itself almost makes it harder since everywhere looks almost the same.

“Downstairs is the kitchen, as well as a dinning room, the living room, and a small toilet. As well as the foyer and laundry room.” She points through the door Hunter disappeared through. It isn’t quite as large and impressive as Blaine had come to expect of Hunter, but the place still screams money. Blaine follows behind Sophia like a lost lamb, arriving at the kitchen.

She pulls a dish out from the oven, which had been prepared prior to her fetching him, and starts placing it up on a single plate. Blaine stands awkwardly, wanting to help but not knowing how. Before Blaine can figure out his role, Sophia has finished her preparation and is taking the dish, along with a miniature loaf of bread and a tall drinks glass, all upon a tray, out the room and assumingly towards Hunter.

They walk through the foyer, arriving at the adjacent living room, where Hunter is reclined on a large red couch, facing the currently switched off TV. Sophia sets the tray down on the coffee table before falling to her knees on top of a small cushion next to Hunter’s feet. Blaine is about to copy her, unsure exactly how he should be acting, when Hunter looks directly at him. He freezes, not really knowing how to behave.

“Eyes down,” he commands. Blaine, not having realized he was breaking one of the first rules he was told, drops his head quickly. He hears Hunter chuckle at his action, and relief floods him; he isn’t in serious trouble. Although that in itself is concerning – Hunter hasn’t let his off with anything up until now. Within a few seconds a second pillow, identical to Sophia’s, appears at the edge of his vision. Taking the initiative, he plops down onto it, no where near as gracefully as Sophia.

“Good boy,” Hunter praises. Blaine lets out a gentle sigh at the praise. Hunter continues eating in silence, occasionally offering Sophia a bite of food from his finger tips, which she gently suckles off before Hunter returns once again to his plate. Of course, Blaine doesn’t get given anything, but doesn’t dare complain. As if on cue, Blaine’s stomach rumbles loud enough for Hunter to hear. Thankfully the man pays him no notice, continuing to scroll through his phone; a page which Blaine recognizes as Facebook. He thinks back to when he last ate, and realizes it must have only been mid afternoon yesterday, a mere twenty-four hours ago. He is starting to really notice the lack of substance, his stomach being a lot less pudgy than it used to be; not that it particularly was before. Once his stomach starts becoming impossible to ignore, making its opinion on the food known, Hunter speaks up.

“You are not getting anything slut. You haven’t earned the privilege yet.” Blaine drops his head further than he thought possible, his shoulders almost following his head down. Withholding food really isn’t fair. It’s a basic human right! “Too bad you are not a human then, whore!” Blaine looks up at Hunter in shock. He didn’t realize he had said that out loud! Hunter grabs Blaine hooking his finger through one of the D-rings of the sub’s collar, dragging Blaine roughly up the first flight of stairs and in the direction of Hunter’s room. Hunter tugs Blaine forwards as they arrive at the edge of Hunter’s bed, causing Blaine to lose his balance and fall hard to his knees. Hunter grabs both his wrists, pulling them behind his back and causing Blaine to lose balance, falling flat on his face. His cuffs are hooked together behind his back, immobilizing him. A chain appears from somewhere, one end disappearing behind the headboard of the bed, the other being attached to his collar, before Hunter pulls a ball gag from the bed side table, forcing it into Blaine’s mouth and giving him no option but to surrender to the item.

“Sluts who can’t keep their mouths shut don’t deserve the option,” Hunter almost shouts, kicking Blaine in the side before leaving the room, slamming the door for good measure.

Chapter Text

Later that night Hunter returns, Sophia trailing behind. Neither of them pay Blaine any attention, Sophia heading directly to the large king size bed and Hunter to where Blaine assumes is a bathroom. Without being instructed, Sophia lays on her back in the center of the bed, her arms stretching above her head while linking her cuffs together in one motion before finally gripping the top of the wooden headboard.

Upon exciting the bathroom, Hunter strides directly towards the bed, stripping himself of his shirt as he goes – once he comes to a halt next to the bed, the pants and underwear follow. He straddles Sophia’s chest, leaning forwards to reach and pull a small chain out from behind the headboard, clipping it to Sophia’s cuffs. She makes an experimental tug, the chain rattling but holding strong. Blaine watches Hunter smile in satisfaction.

The smile seems to be an unsaid order, as Sophia lifts her head and takes Hunter’s semi-erect cock between her lips until it reaches the back of her mouth. Blaine can see her lips suckling on Hunter’s manhood, her tongue dancing around from side to side. Blaine also notices Hunter straining to stay still, his muscles locked to stop him from thrusting. Shortly after Hunter removes himself and shuffles down Sophia’s frame. The mundane job having been finished, Sophia turns her head to the side in the direction of Blaine although doesn’t acknowledge him. She looks disgusted but resigned to her fate.

Blaine feels like a fly on the wall, going unnoticed as Hunter starts to roughly fuck the small girl. She continues to look blankly in Blaine’s direction as Hunter harshly focuses solely on his own pleasure. Occasionally, Blaine can see a jolt of pleasure passing through her, but only because he is closely watching Sophia’s expressions. Other than that small glimpse of expression, Sophia lays there completely motionless, as though she is made of stone.

“That’s it bitch,” Hunter grunts. “Such a good slut. You were made to take my cock. Born for this role.” Sophia appears to have oblivious to his words, not even a flinch portraying any emotion.

Blaine really wants to take his eyes away, pretending the event isn’t happening right next to him, but like a bad accident he can’t seem to. Hunter is paying little attention to the girl, simply using her to get himself off. His thrust sped up, his grunts getting louder as he starts to reach his climax. Blaine wouldn’t be surprised if Sophia was not the least bit turned on by the dull experience. Looking closely, Blaine thinks she simply wants it over as fast as possible, so she can go to bed, start her evening choirs, or whatever it is Hunter makes the girl do after. Blaine can see the cuff’s chain pulling taught at it’s limit, and wonders what would happen if it did snap.

“Please Master, please,” Sophia begs, her expression contradicting her pleading tone.

“Not yet slut. I’m not sure you deserve it.”

“I’ve been a very good girl. And your cock is just so big,” she responds, mechanical in a way Blaine recons is a well rehearsed speech. “You are so strong, so good to me. Your huge cock inside me fills me to bursting. Please Master, please can I cum?”

The words are what seems to do it, “Oh god!” Hunter moans. “Take it bitch, take it. That’s it.” Hunter goes silent as he spills his release inside the girl.

“Please, Master.” Sophia moans while Blaine watches as Hunter nods. Although the girl was not looking at him, see must know of his answer as she instantly lets go, small gasps escaping through her lips.

Blaine studies the girl closely as she ‘orgasms’. He may not be an expert on girls, but is fairly confident, concluding she is faking it. He thinks this must purely be something she does to please Hunter – and because he makes her – taking no joy out of it from herself.

After a few minutes of silence, Hunter reaches up and unclasps Sophia’s cuffs. Rolling over, he allows her to remove herself from the bed. Blaine watches as Sophia heads into her little cupboard-room, before remerging with a wet cloth. She wipes Hunter down, starting with the small beads of sweat on his forehead and finishing at his dick, cleaning it of cum. Once finished with Hunter, Sophia checks the sheets for any messes, patting up the small amount she finds. Satisfied she has cleaned up as much as possible, she slinks back off to her room. Shortly after Blaine hears the gentle pat of running water as Sophia washes herself in her shower.

Looking back up to Hunter, Blaine notices the man is snoring softly, already in a deep sleep. He must have started drifting off as soon as he had finished. Deciding this means Blaine is going to be left chained and gagged all night, he succumbs to his fate, trying to find a comfortable position on the floor to settle down for a long night.


 

Having found no comfort in the night, Blaine wakes up earlier than he ever has before, the light outside barely bright enough to squeeze through the gaps in the curtains. Blaine sits up, incredibly sore. Looking down he notices a large imprint from the chain on his arm, having been awkwardly laying on it the entire time. He tries to shift to a more comfortable position, but is unable to thanks to his cuffed arms. He resigns to leaning against the wall, squeezing between the bed and a nightstand. He strangely feels safer in the tight space, more protected and hidden than he was before.

Eventually, after an undeterminable amount of time, an alarm sounds. Blaine watches Hunter as he groans in response, rolling away from Blaine before turning the alarm off. Within a few moments Blaine can tell Hunter has fallen back to sleep, the steady deep breathing of his Master returning. Blaine wonders if he should wake Hunter back up, but eventually determines that even if he was to try, his gagged mouth and bound hands wouldn’t allow him to do much good.

Ten minutes later the alarm sounds again. Once again Hunter groans, rolling over to stop the blaring siren sound. This time he doesn’t go back to sleep, instead sits up and stretches with a yawn. He must notice Blaine in his peripheral vision as he freezes before spinning to face him, looking as though he had forgotten about the poor sub.

“Fuck,” he comments. Blaine continues watching the man, trying to interpret what he wants. “Fuckety Fuck.” Blaine tries to hide a chuckle while listening to the normally well put together man’s words. Thankfully the gag helps him succeed, possibly helped by the fact Hunter is not yet fully awake.

Hunter throws his legs over the side of the bed, making Blaine flinch in surprise, cowering further into his tight space. This seems to please Hunter, a small smile making itself known. Hunter leans towards him, invading his personal space, before reaching round to the back of Blaine’s head and untying the gag. It is released gentler than he was expecting, but is grateful for the fact, as his jaw has become incredibly stiff from being forced open for so long. The gag isn’t meant to be used for large periods of time, and a whole night certainly fits into that category.

“Sophia!” Hunter booms, loud enough to be heard throughout the house. He settles back on his bed, sitting up against the head board. Blaine hears a commotion downstairs before light footsteps make their way up the staircase at an incredible speed.

Blaine watches as the bedroom door opens, the small girl hastily shutting it behind her before eventually coming to a rest kneeling between Hunter’s outstretched legs.

“Sorry Master, I did not hear your alarm over the kitchen noises,” she apologizes sincerely.

“Not my fucking fault now is it! Now start your fucking job.” She leans forwards, taking his entire length in one swallow. Blaine watches as Hunter looks to the clock once more. He sighs. “No fucking time to discipline you before I have to go. For fucks sake.” Hunter laces his fingers through Sophia’s hair, roughly taking hold. She completely submits, letting Hunter set the pace and fuck her mouth. Embarrassingly quickly, he cums, hips stuttering through his release.

“Clean up,” he orders, roughly pushing her off so he can get up. Upon landing in Hunter’s line of sight he seems to suddenly remember Blaine is there, and pauses to consider him, his head cocked to one side almost comically. Having reached a decision, he walks towards Blaine and unhooks the chain from his collar, before grabbing hold of an arm and pulling him up. Blaine is then spun around, and his wrists are also unhooked. “Get washed quickly, then come find me.” Hunter commands before going off to get showered and dressed himself. 


 

Once Blaine is washed, having used the store branded products in Sophia’s washroom, he hesitantly walks down the stairs in search of Hunter. He soon spots Hunter sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a steaming mug. Unsure exactly what he should do, he tries to think back to his lessons at the sub house, and imagines what one of the guards would instruct.

Deciding on the best course of action, he gently pads into the room, trying to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible. As he nears Hunter, he knells so he is not directly next to the man, invading his space, but not so far away so’s that he can’t tend to Hunter if the need arises.

Hunter doesn’t give any acknowledgement that he is even aware Blaine has joined him in the room, one hand continuously scrolling through his phone, the other idly fiddling with a half empty coffee mug. Blaine can smell the freshly brewed drink, and in that moment he would do almost anything for a medium drip. Coffee would certainly make his days a lot more bearable. He wonders if any future Masters of his would allow him that luxury. Or what he would have to do to earn it as a reward.

Finally, Hunter sets down his empty mug. He looks at Blaine for the first time, who is sat in an attempt of the perfect sub position.

“You need to work on that,” he informs. Blaine almost looks up in question, but remembers last minute not to – his Master is currently evaluating his posture, he shouldn’t move until he is allowed. “Good boy,” he praises. Blaine can’t help but let a small smile out, happy over having pleased Hunter despite of his earlier temper fit with Sophia. “I am just going to grab a tag for you and then we can leave.” A tag? Blaine wonders what on earth that means. A tag like they give to convicts to monitor their movement? He hasn’t needed one yet, why would he now?

Hunter returns with a key ring swinging from his little finger. As Hunter approaches, Blaine notices the key ring is in fact a small rectangle piece of metal, engraved with the words: Hunter Clarington’s. Oh, that kind of tag. As Hunter threads it onto the small D-ring at the front of his collar, Blaine can’t help but wonder why he is being labelled as Hunter’s when he is still technically owned by the sub house. As Hunter backs away, Blaine hears a faint jingle, and quickly discovers the source. Hunter has still left his sub house tag on, meaning he has both hanging off his collar.

“Wear that with pride,” he instructs, before disappearing to finish getting ready himself. Once out of sight, Blaine lifts his hand to feel the tags. He can’t work out whether it is a good thing to have Hunter’s name on him or not.

Chapter Text

After another trip in the car’s trunk, Blaine arrives at the sub house. This time he gets a better look at his surroundings, and realizes he is in fact at the staff entrance, like he predicted yesterday.

Blaine trails behind Hunter as he follows him through the door and down a couple of corridors. Blaine is grateful Hunter has forgone the leash this time, feeling less like an animal when he doesn’t have to wear it. When they arrive at Hunter’s office, Blaine is directed to the corner he was tied to the last time, the large radiator seeming to mock him from the tight corner. He goes there without complaint however, sitting cross legged. He isn’t as squashed as the last time, sitting slightly forwards of the corner thanks to not having the restriction of a leash.

“That’s not how you sit is it?” Hunter questions accusingly. Blaine shifts to his knees, sitting back onto his heels. Blaine sees Hunter nodding at him from the corner of his vision, before firing up the desktop computer.

Blaine hears it slowly come to life, a waking up sound tinkling. He fidgets slightly, preparing for several hours as still as a statue.

And several hours do pass. Occasionally Hunter will leave the room for short stints of time, before arriving back at his desk and continuing doing whatever it is he is doing, but still Blaine is left ignored in the corner. Every time Hunter does leave, he takes the opportunity to stand up and wiggle around a little, before quickly sitting back down to avoid being caught. However it is not enough, his legs eventually going past the point of pain and becoming numb to the sensation. Blaine is concerned about it, worrying it may cause permanent damage to his legs, however Hunter doesn’t seem bothered by it and he is not yet desperate enough to ask.

Hunter looks at his watch before clearing his throat, gaining Blaine’s attention. Blaine lifts his head, eyes still lowered, acknowledging he heard the command.

“Head to the kitchen and fetch me my lunch.” Blaine starts to rise. “And pick up something for yourself while you are there as well.” Blaine swiftly leaves with a small nod of understanding.

However, as soon as he leaves the room, he starts to panic. He doesn’t know where he is in relation to the cafeteria, and isn’t brave enough to turn back and ask. But he also isn’t sure if there are places he isn’t allowed within the institute, and doesn’t want to get caught unknowingly out of bounds.

He walks cautiously, not really having a choice in the matter. He hoped he would start to recognize where he was, but all the corridors look almost identical to one another. Sure, they are different lengths and have different doors coming off of them all, but they are all the small pale bluish-grey with no decorations to identify them by.

Going round the next corner, he does finally gather his bearings and works out where he is, although it’s not where he wants to be. The corridor is filled with rooms to each side with the cells where they are all kept overnight. Usually, he always arrives at this corridor from the other end, coming to his group’s cell first. He decides, although knowing he is tight for time and probably going to get in trouble if he is found, to walk slowly down the length of the corridor while peeking into each cell out of curiosity.

The first few he reaches are more like a bedroom than he could have expected. Each room has an ordinary door and is filled with two beds on opposing walls, and a bedside table next to each, a door splitting them – which he assumes leads to a washroom like in his. He counts six of these rooms, three on each side of the aisle. The next room he comes to is a group room, much larger than the twin rooms he has just walked past, however the room is still outfitted with beds.

As he continues on, the rooms get worse. The beds start getting smaller and dirtier, then becoming simple mattresses on the floor. Three rooms like this are then followed by three rooms with larger mattresses but half as many. Next are two rooms with only blankets littering the floor. Finally, he reaches the last two rooms, both on the same side of the corridor, identical to each other – the cages he is currently in.

Well, he reasons, at least the accommodation will get better. He assumes as their stay at the sub house continues, they move down the corridor to increasingly better rooms.

Happy he now knows where he is, he quickly hurries to the cafeteria to make up for lost time.

When he arrives, Blaine is glad to see there is no one else around other than those in the kitchen. He makes his way over to the small cut-out in the wall between the two rooms, where there is normally trays of food waiting for the subs to arrive. Instead, this time he is greeted by a guard.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the guard states.

“Hunt- Master sent me.” Ignoring his slight slipup, the guard looks to Blaine’s collar. He reaches out and grabs both tags hanging loosely, reading them before removing his hand with a surrendering grunt.

“What did he send you for?” Blaine doesn’t really understand what it is he saw that supports his claim, but isn’t going to be the one to raise that question.

“Umm,” Blaine hesitates, the gaze of the guard intimidating him. “His lunch, and something for me too, Sir?” The guard simply nods in response, turning around and making his way through the kitchen.

Blaine wonders what he should be doing, he feels odd just standing there and watching the guard follow out his request. He looks down, picking his nails in wait.

The guard doesn’t take very long, placing a tray on the counter in front of Blaine. He looks at it, and sees a steaming plate of some fancy dish he couldn’t name, covered under a clear insulating dome. Next to it is a much smaller dish – well, same sized plate but much less food – of some kind of lumpy soup like concoction. There is no guessing as to which one is his and which one is Hunter’s.

“Thank you, Sir.” But before Blaine can lift the tray, the guard calls out.

“Let me grab you the drinks before you go,” the guard informs, Blaine feeling stupid for not realizing there was more to come.

The man returns with a travel mug with steam escaping through the lid, and a bottle of water. Again, no points for guessing who’s is who’s. With the now complete tray, Blaine carefully makes his way back out from the canteen. He considers which way to go for a moment before deciding to go back through the cells. He is sure there must be a quicker route, but reasons that at least he knows some of the way, and can make fairly good guesses of the rest, rather than setting out on a completely unknown course.

As he heads out from the cafeteria however, he almost walks into Jacob. They both stop abruptly.

“Blaine!” Jacob explains, looking him up and down. Upon sight of the cock cage he cringes slightly, but seeming Blaine is relatively unharmed he beams. “I was so worried about you babe, everyone was!” Jacob steps in to hug Blaine, but he ‘accidently’ moves the tray, blocking Jacob from being able to. He doesn’t want to be seen like this, being Hunter’s personal slave. “Oops, sorry,” Jacob apologizes, thinking it was his fault. “What has he made you do? I hope you’re alright! When do you come back to us? I’m meant to be heading to get my back checked, but I have time to talk,” Jacob asks, throwing loads of questions at Blaine.

“I’ve gotta go,” he responds instead, manoeuvring the tray around Jacob’s body and continuing out the canteen. He doesn’t want to talk to Jacob; he doesn’t want to be seen by anyone during his punishment. It’s bad enough he earned a punishment without having everyone see exactly what it is. At least once the week with Hunter is over, and the humiliating cage removed, things can go back to normal. Well... normal for a sub at least.

He hurries his way back past the cells, then goes a little slower the rest of the way, not truly knowing where he should be going. He has been gone from Hunter for longer than he thinks he should have, and wants to get back as quick as he can. He probably could have got away with looking at the cells on the way, but having to stop for Jacob may have pushed it.

Finally he reaches the door to Hunter’s office, managing to find his way back without getting lost once. He stands outside, debating whether he is expected to knock or not. Deciding it is probably safer to knock and not need to than walk in and having meant to knock, he adjusts the position of the tray so he can balance it on his left arm, and knocks with his right.

“Come in,” he hears the call shortly after. He opens the door gently, shutting it behind him before approaching Hunter.

“You didn’t have to knock pet!” He chortles. “While you are mine, unless told otherwise, you can assume you are allowed near me as long as you stay quiet. Come kneel next to me.”

“Sorry Master,” he apologizes, though not completely sure what for. He goes to kneel next to Hunter, who takes the tray off him before he starts to lower himself.

“Good boy,” he praises, running his fingers between Blaine’s curls. “I am very surprised you were back so fast! Answer me honestly,” he grips Blaine’s hair in warning, “Did you know the way or did you just guess?”

“A bit of both Master? I didn’t think you would want me to disturb you and ask, but once I got going I managed to work out were to go.” Hunter hums in acknowledgement, thinking. He doesn’t comment, Blaine left wondering if it’s what he should have done, but assumes if it was drastically wrong he would have been told.

“Eat up,” Hunter orders as he hands Blaine his plate. Blaine looks at the dish, wondering how on earth he is expected to eat the liquid covered lumps without making a mess in Hunter’s office. If he was in the cafeteria with the others, he simply would have picked it up with his fingers, licking them clean once finished, but he somehow thinks Hunter would expect something more graceful and less messy. What, he doesn’t know.

“What’s wrong slut?” Hunter sighs, slightly aggravated. Blaine debates not answering, not thinking Hunter would want to hear his concerns, but he can’t ignore a direct question.

“I don’t want to make a mess, but I don’t know how to eat this without.”

“Pass it here,” he commands, Blaine reluctantly doing so. He hopes it doesn’t mean he has lost his lunch. However, Hunter rummages in his top desk draw, pulling out a fork. Blaine partly wonders why Hunter would casually have cutlery in his draw, but is more interested in being able to eat without using his fingers for the first time in ages.

But Blaine has no such luck. Instead, Hunter stabs one of the lumps in the dish, and holds the fork out for Blaine to eat off of. Abandoning any pride he has remaining, Blaine reaches up with his mouth and tentatively takes the bite. Leaning back into his heals, he watches Hunter’s hand as he returns the fork to the plate, depositing it gently leaning against the side before picking up his own fork and starting on his meal.

After several mouthfuls of his own meal, Hunter once again picks up Blaine’s fork, stabbing another of the chicken tasting lumps and passing it down to Blaine. Less nervously this time, Blaine takes the mouthful of the fork, sitting back down to chew it. Again, Hunter goes back to his own meal before feeding Blaine a little of his.

With this system, Hunter finishes eating when Blaine is approximately half way through his. Hunter puts the tray on the floor, out of the way, but leaves Blaine’s at the edge of his desk.

Periodically, Hunter pauses in his work to give Blaine a bite. Blaine wishes he had just used his fingers in the first place; a little bit of mess would have been preferable to eating literally out of Hunter’s hands.

As Blaine takes his last mouthful of food, there is a knock at the door. Hunter places both dishes on the tray, removing the two drinks, and passes it to Blaine.

“Go return this,” he orders Blaine, before turning to address the person behind the door. “Come in.”


 

Blaine makes it to the kitchen and back with no trouble, no other subs about. He wonders what the time is, confused as to why the cafeteria was empty upon both visits. Reasoning Hunter would eat his lunch mid-day, Blaine wonders if they purposely don’t feed them at the time they expect, further disorientating them from ‘ordinary’ life.

When he reaches Hunter’s office, he pauses for a moment. He thinks it is likely the guard who knocked is still in there, but Hunter did say he didn’t need to knock. He decides to go with what his gut is telling him, and opens the door.

He was correct in assuming the guard would still be there, but apart from a quick glance from Hunter neither acknowledge his presence. Quietly, he shuts the door and scurries into the corner he is starting to consider his. He studies the female guard, one he has not seen before. Her pink dyed hair is beyond it’s prime, long black roots showing, and several tattoos littering almost all of her visible skin, minus her face.

He listens in to the conversation, trying to pick up what they are talking about. He soon realizes the guard is asking for ‘special privileges’ regarding a sub. He doesn’t understand what that means, but since it may be about someone he knows, he resolves to try and infer what it is.

“I am not going to grant you that,” Hunter responds, as relaxed as ever.

“Why not?” The guard argues.

“Why should you get priority over her? Even I can’t swing getting that for myself with him.” Hunter argues, pointing at Blaine. Blaine doesn’t like this chat anymore, not now that he is being brought into it.

“Firstly, everyone pretty much knows it is yours. Secondly, I’m only asking to fuck it, not buy it!” The guard spits.

“Firstly, I have no formal claim over him, only my position of power over the rest of you. Secondly, you know you can pay for her at the next auctions for a taste.”

“But I work here, I should get some bonus of discounted rates or first pick or something.”

“No.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Why do you even want it though? I thought you weren’t even remotely bi-curious?”

“I’m not. But a sub is pretty much genderless. And a sub’s hole is a sub’s hole.” The guard huffs in response. Hunter continues talking, ignoring the guards reaction. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“What do you mean anything else, you didn’t help me with the first thing!”

“So that’s a no? Ok, we are done here. And you will be suspended for a month.” Hunter pauses, looking at his calendar unnecessarily. “What a shame, that puts you out for the next auction. Looks like you wont be able to get her until she is sold for good.”

“What!? But that’s not fair!”

“Oh well. Make sure you take anything you need from your locker. Suspensions include being banned from the site completely.” The guard huffs, but doesn’t argue any more. Instead, she storms out. Hunter doesn’t seem to be effected by the action, and resumes managing accounts on the computer.

Blaine doesn’t understand what just happened. For some reason the guard wanted a girl, but Hunter said no, and then when she argued, Hunter just kicked her out. Blaine contemplating must have been evident on his face, as Hunter stops what he is doing to ask.

“What’s wrong pet?”

“I... I don’t understand Master?” Blaine responds, surprised Hunter asked.

“Good thing you don’t need to then.” Blaine drops his head. “I’ve never liked her,” Hunter mutters under his breath, confusing Blaine further. Blaine doesn’t really know how to respond, so opts not to say anything. He drops his head and returns to his previous position, settling in to survive several more hours of nothingness.

Chapter Text

When they arrive at Hunter’s house he doesn’t wait for Blaine, simply opening the trunk and walking away. Blaine is left to scramble out on his own, grateful no one is watching his undignified exit. Once out, he shuts the trunk door before heading in the direction Hunter went, through the same side door as yesterday.

Entering the house he hears a lot of shouting from Hunter, as well as a few quiet feminine whimpers. He quietly heads in the direction of the noise, unsure if he should be there or make himself scarce. When he reaches the doorway between the kitchen and foyer he comes to a stop, sinking down to his knees in an attempt to become as inconspicuous as possible.

Sophia is kneeling with her head on the floor, held down by Hunter’s boot clad foot. Blaine can see the amount of pressure being pushed on her tiny body, struggling not to collapse off her knees under the force. He feels incredibly sorry for the girl; all she did was not hear Hunter’s alarm this morning.

“Come on you worthless shit, it’s playroom time for you,” he demands, grabbing the girls hair. Blaine hears the girl whimper, but is unsure if it is due to the name calling, the hair grabbing, or the announcement of their destination.

Blaine is unsure whether he should go as well but decides he would rather not see whatever is about to happen, so resolves to stay where he is and make himself more comfortable once out of view. Hunter however apparently has other ideas.

“You too pet, follow me.” Reluctantly, he goes. Blaine has no idea where the playroom is, Sophia having not mentioned anything about another room.

They head through the living room, then to a second room at the back of the house, which turns out to be the dinning room he was yet to see. Blaine notices a second open door to the far left of him, along the same wall as the door they came through, leading into the kitchen. This puts the room behind the stairs.

Hunter heads to the middle of said wall, opening a decorative small wooden door in the middle, roughly to the back of the stairs in the foyer. He pushes Sophia in first, where she disappears downwards. When Blaine can see inside, he recognises it as a cellar, complete with the trade mark wonky plank-like steps. However, as soon as he starts down the stairs and can see the rest of the room, he decides dungeon is more appropriate. A kinky as hell 50 shades of grey torture dungeon.

The walls are completely red, the carpet a complimentary shade of black. Directly in the center of the room is a freestanding double bed, complete with a four post wooden frame. Along the back of the room are various wooden structures, made for attaching someone to. Littered around the edges, hanging off hooks are whips, chains, and straps of leather for all things imaginable. Blaine decides then and there that he never wants to be the centre of attention in this room. Stopping once he reaches the bottom, not daring to venture further into the poorly lit dungeon.

Hunter heads to a door at the side of the room, under the stairs they just travelled down.

“Come and help me pet,” Hunter calls out before going through the door. Not wanting to get on the wrong side of his Master while in a place like this, he quickly goes to join him.

Blaine is surprised by the size of this room, almost as large as the red dungeon. However instead of looking like the sophisticated - albeit scary - red room, this one likes a junk room-slash-storage space for equipment only before seen in porn.

“Ah ha!” Hunter calls from somewhere among the clutter. Suddenly there is a lot of noise, items being pushed carelessly out the way and onto the floor. “Come here and help me carry this, it’s heavy.” Hunter watches as Blaine carefully picks his way through the clutter, curious as to why there is so much. Hunter seems to pick up on Blaine’s unasked question, answering it for him. “The OSO also designs their own range of BDSM toys. Senior employees are sometimes allowed to test new models and prototypes they have, and sometimes are allowed to keep them, whether the design is used or not. One of the perks of running the sub house is that I’m considered a senior employee, and am often allowed first refusal on some of the rejects. The ones I like I keep. My favorites are kept out, but the rest are thrown in here.” Stunned that Hunter even explained, Blaine remains silent, overwhelmed by the new information.

He grabs one end of the heavy frame and walks backwards out the room, Hunter holding the other side. Once into the slightly better lit dungeon room he lets Hunter walk backwards, leading Blaine to where the item is to be deposited.

Now that he can see a lot better, he looks at the item. It is some form of bench with two levels; a larger padded flat top, and two smaller padded outcrops approximately half way up, a couple of straps hanging from the edges of the device. Hearing a small whimper breaks him out of his curiosity, watching Sophia by the bed, fearfully looking over to the far wall. Blaine follows her line of sight to see Hunter picking up a bullwhip from a shelf. Hunter flicks it’s length out, and the snapping sound it makes is enough to send a shiver of fear down Blaine’s spin.

“Knees pet,” He growls at Blaine, who drops down instantly in fear. He knows – well, thinks he knows – the punishment is not for him, and that the whip won’t be directed to his back, but that doesn’t mean he wants to push Hunter to change his mind and decide Blaine needs a beating as well.  

“Sophia!” Hunter shouts. “I didn’t think you would need telling. Bench, now.” Sophia rushes to comply, obviously regretting having not done it in the first place. As Hunter goes to strap her onto the bench, securing her upper body on the flat top and each leg on the corresponding lower level branches. Sophia starts to beg.

“Please Master, please. I’ve always been a good girl for you. This was one little mistake,” she sobs. “Please Master, not the bull whip. I can do better. I’m your good girl.”

“Enough,” Hunter orders calmly, although clearly becoming aggravated by the girl’s pleas.

“Ple... please Master. I wont do it again,” she begs, legs fighting against the restraints.

“I said enough!” He shouts, enforcing his words with a strike across her exposed rear. “Tell me why we are here?”

“Because... because I... I wasn’t there to... to wake you up,” she responds between sobs. Hunter doesn’t reply, instead walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a gag. “Please Master, please. I wi... will be qui... quiet. I wont s... scream. I don’t need the gag. I wan... want to be able to tha... thank you fo... for each stroke.”

“Quiet?” Hunter asks rhetorically. “Quiet in the same way you have been so far? Following orders like you have? That doesn’t really support your argument now does it?” Sophia admits defeat, her head dropping like a dead weight. Hunter forcefully shoves the gag in place. “You were so good when I got you! Do you want to know what I think of you now?” He stands behind her, preparing to land the first – second – strike. “You are slut just like the rest.” Hit. “I was wrong about you; you are nothing special.” Hit. “And guess what? I’ve discovered someone even more special than you; better than you even at your prime.” Hit. “And as soon as pet has finished his training, you can be sure you are going back.” Hit, “Or do you want to go back now?” Hit. “You’ve done nothing but act up and disobey these last few months.” Every sentence is driven home with another whip lash, spread all the way along her body from just below her brand to the bottom of her calf.

It all becomes too much for Blaine; the words sounding almost as painful as the hits themselves even though they are not aimed at him. He drops his head, trying to block out the noises by searching for that space in his mind he has found before – where everything is quiet and nothing seems to matter outside of his mind.

“Pet!” Hunter shouts, pulling him back to the present before he can truly escape. “I want you watching. Learning. Things are all nice and cushy for you at the moment, but you need to learn what punishments are like in the real world. If I catch you looking away again... it will be your turn next. Understood?” Hunter stumbles over the words, as though he doesn’t truly want to say them. Blaine nods quickly. As much as he doesn’t want to see Sophia suffer like this, him disobeying and getting himself in trouble will not help her.

Hunter resumes his hits this time in silence, seeming to have run out of things to say. Blaine doesn’t dare look elsewhere, but is reluctant to look at Sophia’s beaten body. He compromises, flicking between watching Hunter’s gradually calming expression and Sophia’s reaction. He flinches every time he hears the sound of leather against flesh, desperately fighting the desire to turn away.

The whipping gradually starts to slow down, a longer gap between consecutive strikes. However it doesn’t seem to reduce any of the pain. Sophia’s back is so covered in marks it’s not possible for Hunter to hit an unaffected area, instead each lash is hitting already sore flesh. Blaine doesn’t understand how the girl is still conscious.

“Come pet,” Hunter instructs, dropping the whip to the floor and exiting the basement. Blaine follows, one last look at Sophia’s slumped body before leaving. He knew being a sub wasn’t just following orders, that there were consequences for actions, but he truly hopes he will never have to watch something like that again, or be the one on the receiving end.

Chapter Text

“Can you cook?” Hunter asks as they exit the dining room, surprising Blaine.

“Umm, not really Master, only the real basics. I’m sorry Master,” he replies, worried it isn’t the right answer. Thankfully – for Blaine at least - it appears Hunter took all his aggression out on Sophia, making him more placid now. Hunter tsks.

“Teenagers these day’s!” He exclaimed. “They rarely know how to do anything useful. If they did we could probably cut the training time in half. Shame. I will have to order takeaway instead. Any preference?” Blaine shakes his head, feeling it’s a trick question. “I will see what menus I have.”

Hunter strides of into the kitchen, leaving Blaine behind. He debates if he should follow before finally deciding to kneel at the door between the foyer and living room, in sight of his Master but close enough to where he was left.

Hunter returns with a pamphlet for some family ran pizza parlor and his phone, already typing in the number as he sits down.

“Come,” he orders, pointing to a pillow on the floor before focusing on the phone. As Blaine kneels next to Hunter, he feels fingers running through his hair, trailing lazy patterns through the curls while placing the order. After the ordeal in the dungeon, he finds the gesture incredibly comforting and relaxing. That much so he didn’t realize Hunter had put the phone down fifteen minutes ago, nor that he has already repeated a question to Blaine once.

“You like that I take it?” He chuckles. Blaine hums in affirmation. “I was saying, how are you feeling after that?” That question shocks Blaine into full awareness, spinning around to look at Hunter before remembering he shouldn’t, dropping his gaze in a hurry. Hunter holds his chin, lifting it up until Blaine has no choice but to look directly at his Master. “You know pet, I really love your eyes.” Blaine feels a slight blush creeping up. “They are such a fascinating color. An amazing swirl of greens and browns with a slight outline of blue.” Blaine doesn’t know what to do with the information.  “Anyway, I asked you a question,” Hunter reminds him, a little more Dom like than he was a few moments ago.

“I’m... I’m a little scared, Master,” he almost whispers.

“Elaborate,” Hunter demands, not seeming to be at all concerned by Blaine’s answer.

“I’m scared something like that will happen to me,” he responds, giving his best wounded puppy look.

“Don’t be,” Hunter chuckles. “That slut has been slowly winding me up recently, constantly not being where she should, never doing what is asked. I have had her for two years, thereabouts; she really should know better by now. Today was just the point where I decided to put my foot down. I also have reason to believe she is doing it for attention. She knows I’m no longer interested in her for much longer; I think she simply wanted the attention, trying to remind me how well behaved she can be when she wants to be. But answer me this, should subs be allowed to pick and choose when they get attention?” It takes a while for Blaine to realize the question was not rhetorical, not expecting to need to answer. He simply shakes his head no, knowing it’s what Hunter wants to hear. “Exactly. Do you think you will do something like this whore has been doing?” Blaine shakes his head with a definite no. “Good boy. In that case, it won’t happen will it?”

“But...” he starts, pausing to check it is okay for him to continue. “What if I don’t mean to do it? If it’s an accident?”

“That’s why we train you-.” They are interrupted by the door ringing. “The bowl next to the door has some money in it. Go fetch the Pizza.” Blaine unsteadily rises, walking out the room to answer the door. Thankfully, the bowl is obvious. Blaine opens the door, head down, and waits for the man to speak first. Everything from his limited lessons running through his mind.

“That’s $23.82,” the delivery guy announces. Blaine nods, pulling out $25 and giving it to the man. The man hands him the pizza and a bottle of cola before going into his pocket to count out the correct change. Blaine is about to tell him not to, and to keep it as a tip, but stops himself. As a sub, is he allowed to do that sort of thing with his Master’s money? Hunter didn’t give him the exact money, simply let him help himself to the bowl mostly filled with change, but it still feels wrong to pass out money that not his. And also, as a sub, he shouldn’t talk to a hum without being asked a question, so is he allowed to tell the man to keep the change?

Before he reaches a conclusion however, the man is shoving the change at him. On reflex, Blaine holds his spare hand out, only just catching it as the man lets the coins drop. Once he recovers himself he looks up to see the man’s retreating form. Deciding it’s best not to dwell on it, he shuts the door and drops the change into the bowl, carrying the delivery through to Hunter.


 

“Bed time pet,” Hunter informs with a yawn. Blaine shivers at what this may entail, especially since he believes Sophia is out of action in her current state. He hopes it doesn’t mean he becomes a replacement. “Go undo Sophia’s straps and shut her in the cage – she should know what she is doing – then you are done for the night.” Relief floods Blaine, it doesn’t look like he is going to be used in Hunter’s bed - at least not yet. Hunter stands, but before he leaves he adds, “If I find out in the morning she isn’t where she should, it’s your ass on the line. Go it?” Blaine nods.

He makes his way down to the dungeon cellar unsteadily, scared to what sight may be there to greet him.

“Hey,” he calls out, getting a grunt in response. He heads over and starts undoing the straps, unsure how to share the news of her location for the night. He struggles to undo them easily, his hands slightly shaking. “Umm, so Master said you should know what you’re doing?”

“I know I know! In the cage I go.” She responds aggressively. “I must say, I’m surprised he didn’t come himself.” Blaine finally undoes the last strap before helping the girl of the bench.

“Are you ok? You look stiff?” Sophia gives him a look of seriously? “I’m sorry about this.”

“What for?”

“I’m sorry he did this to you. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Didn’t expect much else,” she shrugs. “Master has been quite nice recently, it was only a matter of time. It’s nothing new.”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“All of it? Cope with the abuse and hatred?” Blaine elaborates.

“It’s not like there is much of a choice is there? You grin and bear your way through it, hoping it will get easier, knowing it probably won’t.” She opens the door to the cage, carefully crawling into it so not to further irritate her wounds. “Have you not noticed there is no way to kill yourself at the sub house?”

“Does it get easier?” He asks, wanting to change the topic from death.

“Not yet it hasn’t. You do what you have to do to survive.” Blaine doesn’t like how resigned she sounds, as though she is ready to simply give up.

“Does this need locking somehow?”

“Hah. You work it out. Since you are Master’s new perfect golden toy, I’m sure you know how to do everything without being told.” Blaine freezes, ignoring the tirade of words being thrown at him. He needs to get this right, Hunter has been acting strange recently and doesn’t want to do anything to push it. He spots a small sliding door bolt, and pushes it across. There is no lock on the bolt, and can’t spot anything else.

“That all?” He asks, unsure if it is locked enough to please Hunter.

“Yes,” She sighs. “Because of the angle, it’s not possible to undo it from inside. It is infuriating. Something so simple renders you uselessly trapped. I swear they use such simple things to belittle us further,” she sighs. Blaine quickly studies the bolt, and can see what Sophia means. It reminds him of when he was tied up that first night before being fucked, his hands behind his back and a chain on his collar. The simple clips able to be undone even by a toddler, albeit a strong one, could make him completely helpless.

“Is there anything else I need to do?” He asks awkwardly.

“Nope.”

“Night,” he responds, not expecting or receiving a reply. He leaves the dungeon, turning off the light as he goes.


 

The next day Blaine wakes up with a start, the most well rested he has been in ages. When he arrived at Hunter’s room, the man was already lightly snoring. He made his way into Sophia’s room, debating on sleeping on the inviting mattress or sleeping on the floor like he had been told he should. He embarrassingly gave into the temptation quickly, reasoning there was no point making things unnecessarily harder on himself by sleeping on the floor. He didn’t realize just how much he missed the comfort of a mattress until last night.

He hears a loud thud from the next room, followed by a swear word. Blaine chuckles at the imagery of Hunter having dropped something heavy on his toe. He hears another thud, and realizes Hunter must have been at it for a while, and is likely what initially woke Blaine out of his peaceful sleep. He takes a moment to consider his options; he can feign sleep, he can shower and wash, or he can go serve Hunter. He knows one of them is the wrong action, but it certainly seems the most appealing. He decides to bite the bullet head on, hoping that in tending to Hunter he earns himself favor from the man.

He heads out of the closet like room, silently dropping to his knees by the doorway. Hunter is already showered and dressed, clearly having been awake for a while. Apparently, he has decided this is as good an opportunity as any to do a bit of interior decorating by reordering his room, boxes scattered on the floor having been pulled out from under the bed. Hunter is currently trying to pull the bed away from the wall with difficulty. He must notice Blaine’s movement in his peripheral vision, stopping and looking over. Blaine adverts his gaze.

“Good, you’re up pet,” he comments. “Help me move this bed. It’s harder than I thought.” Blaine doesn’t question it, walking to the other side of the bed and helping Hunter tug. Between the two of them, they manage to pull it out about a foot. Hunter kneels on the bed looking down the gap they created. “Fuck,” he curses. “Pet, crawl under and pass the chain up.” Blaine goes without question, although unsure what sort of chain he is searching for. Once under the bed he spots it instantly, a small metal chain attached to the underside of the headboard. He untangles it from where it is trapped between the beams supporting the mattress, passing it up to Hunter between the wall and headboard. Hunter takes the end, muttering “good boy,” before continuing working the chain out.

Blaine scurries out from under the bed before sitting on his heels in wait. Looking around the room, he is surprised to see the light is not on, and in fact the room is lit by natural light coming through the window. Blaine is shocked to realize he slept so late. He starts watching Hunter work the chain, trying to work out what the man is doing, but to no avail. Eventually, Hunter finishes sorting out whatever it was with the chain and ties the end off on a hook. He looks to Blaine.

“Get washed then meet me downstairs. I don’t normally go in on a Friday, but there is a lesson I need you to attend. It will give me a bit of time to just wonder around and check the running of everything. Surprise visits keeps everyone on their toes,” he chuckles to himself. “Don’t take long.”


 

When they arrive at the sub house, Hunter leads him straight to the cafeteria.

“You can eat here today. Your group should be along soon. Stick with them until I come to get you again,” He instructs. Blaine watches as Hunter leaves before taking himself over to the little hole in the wall to collect a tray, taking it towards one of the far walls before sitting down.

He slowly eats, today’s food seeming to have more variety – pasta and vegetables – but somehow tasting blander than normal, as though it was frozen a month ago and been poorly reheated. Once he finishes, with nothing else to do, he watches people coming and going. It’s another ten or so minutes before a steady trickle of subs start entering, all looking more depressed than before. Although, maybe the couple of days away from them has made him forget how miserable everything within the center is.

A blonde haired figure catches the corner of his eye. It takes him longer than it should to recognize the girl as Brittany. She has a large bruise on the side of hip that certainly wasn’t there a few days ago. After collecting her tray, the girl spots Blaine, excitedly walking over.

“Im so glad you are ok!” She greats, hugging him in a way that can only be described as a puppy greeting its owners after not seeing them for a week.

“Hush Britt, you will get yourself in more trouble!” Blaine whispers, looking around to make sure no guards noticed. Thankfully, luck seemed to be on his side for once.

“Again?” She questions, this time in at a volume more appropriate for their no talking environment. Blaine indicates to her hip. “Oh, that. I just fell out of bed this morning. I rolled over in my sleep and wasn’t aware the cage was open,” she shrugs. Blaine breathes a sigh of relief, worrying Brittany’s childlike innocence would inadvertently get her into trouble. Before he forms a reply, the pair are joined by Nick and Tina, followed by a guard who didn’t seem keen on leaving the forming group out of ear shot. The three new arrivals eat their identical meals in silence, Blaine with his eyes trained on the floor in front of him. 

Once they have finished eating, Blaine follows the other three back to the classroom they had come from earlier. It is not one he has been in before, but is an identical layout. However, there are several people already at the front of the room. They certainly are not subs, but don’t look like the guards either – only one has the OSO logo on his shirt. The remaining are all females, simply in casual clothing but all holding a cane.

They sit in silence while they wait for the rest of the group to arrive, the five people at the front chatting among themselves, not loud enough for Blaine to be able to make out the individual words. When Blaine sees Jacob appear he instantly looks away in shame, not wanting to have to interact with him. Thankfully, the spaces near Blaine had already been filled, so he can get away with not talking for a little while longer.

Once all eleven subs have arrived and sat down, the single man in the guard uniform steps into the center of the room.

“We have some special visitors today,” he introduces, indicating to the remaining four people at the front. “These lovely people own four of the country’s major submissive brothel chains, and visit us a few times every year to help with some specific lessons. You must be on your absolute best behavior; these people will also be watching everything you do and possibly consider having you in the future.”

Great, Blaine thinks sarcastically, these people want to watch the slaughter house raise their animals.

“Picking up where we left off yesterday; visual clues to what your Master wants. Masters do not want to have to ask you to do everything, they have enough to be thinking about. You are there to aid and help your Master, do the simple things so they can focus on what they need to. Therefore, you need to be able to pick up on the smallest of indications; do they need a drink, do they need to relieve pent up anger, do they need to jot notes down quickly while on the phone? You should be able to tell these things, and then act upon them. Masters don’t just want a mindless robot that only does something when asked, they want someone to give them what they need before they know themselves.

“A key part of this is getting to know your Master, and how they act. This is where our visitors come in. A few of you will each be assigned to someone, and will go through some set up mock situations, and will be judged on how appropriately you respond. The only way this stuff can be taught is by practicing, and what better way to start than at the deep end; with someone you haven’t met before?” Blaine’s insides seem to plummet. He isn’t a mind reader, it’s not possible to learn how to do this sort of stuff!

The guard splits them into groups of two’s and one three, before allocating each group a temporary Mistress. Blaine and Brittany are both assigned to the same woman, who looks at them both before leaving without a word. Knowing the point of this activity is to start learning visual clues, and knowing they cannot do so if they are not near the woman, they both cautiously follow.

They end up in what Blaine assumes is the staff room, next to the cafeteria and the kitchens. Already knowing what he should be doing in this situation, Blaine kneels down next to the stern woman, Brittany flawlessly copying him on the other side.

A clothed sub is quick to approach the table, delivering food before retreating back to the kitchen.

The rest of her meal is spent in silence. At one point the woman finishes her drink, and before Blaine can blink Brittany is there refilling it. Once she kneels back down the Mistress turns to Blaine.

“Hand out, palm up,” she orders. Not knowing why but not daring to question it, he obeys. Before he can even register the woman moving he feels a sharp pain across his hand, the cane having been struck directly across the center. Blaine doesn’t understand why he deserved the hit.

They seem to tour the compound with the woman, going into extravagant rooms Blaine had not seen before. He reasons these must be the places visitors and potential buyers get to see, expensively decorated to make the wealthy clients feel at home.

At various points, the woman would give some sort of clue as to wanting something. Sometimes Blaine was able to pick it up, other times Brittany did. Every time the sub to have not reacted ended up with a smack across their hands. It was incredibly painful, and Blaine wanted to do anything to stop the hits from coming, but hated knowing that if he didn’t receive it then Brittany would. Watching her suffer the pain was almost as painful as the strike itself. After what seemed like hours of following, both of their hands in considerable pain, they arrived back at the original room. 

They were not the first back, but not the last either. Once everyone does arrive the guard speaks up.

“Now it is time to have a little competition. I don’t think you lot have done one before, so let me first quickly explain how we run our special contests. It isn’t a write down your answers, nor a put your hand up first style of competition. We will do something, and you must act how you think is appropriate. You will then be given a score on your actions, depending on how quick you were and how well you did it. You must keep a tally of your own score - although we will know if you are cheating. At the end, the person with the most points gets a little prize, and the loser gets a big surprise.” The guard grins evilly at the last few words, clearly liking the ‘surprise’, the visitors all giving an excited chuckle. Blaine dreads to think what it could be, and resolves to not find out.

The guard takes a drink from one of many half full glasses on the desk, emptying it. That’s quite a simple place to start; Blaine gets up and refills the glass from the jug also on the desk before retreating to kneel the appropriate distance away. He was the first to move, and had kneeled back down before most of the others had even started to move – the only ones to have copied him where his three friends; Brittany, Tina, and Nick, who filled up three of the empty glasses. The guard doesn’t appear too happy about this.

“Seriously sluts! How could I be more obvious? Everything is set out, and you have already watched four whores do it!” The rest rush up, each taking turns with the single jug, before most of them return to their previous position. “5226 – ten points, 9103 – seven points…” He lists everyone’s number, giving them each a score. Blaine only knows his and Nick’s numbers, so is unsure of what each person got. Although most numbers where much closer to a zero than a ten, only one other number being above a five, which logically would belong to either Brittany or Tina.

The test continues, following a similar pattern of Blaine being the first to act, quickly followed by his three friends, finishing with the rest to varying degrees of grace and accuracy. Blaine ends up having to fetch tissues, a jacket, holding out his hand to dispose of the guards chewing gum, clean up discarded paper and wrappers, fetching medicine, and other ridiculous tasks. It was absurd how set up the whole thing was, and how foolish it made Blaine feel. He would have never done something this ludicrous before he was marked a sub, yet now it felt almost normal. His Sir wanted him to do it, so he would do it, understanding and agreeing with the reasoning behind it or not. And as much as the thought churned his stomach, he wanted to please his Master even though he wasn’t in Hunter’s presence.

Once the test had finished each sub was asked for their score. Blaine had earned a respectable 89 points, putting him at the top and making him the winner. Jacob however had only earned 36 points, making him the lowest. But to make matter’s worse, he decided to pretend to have scored higher.

“8263?”

“56 Sir,” he calls out. The guard gives him a disbelieving look. Jacob shrinks backwards, his guilt evident on his face, but doesn’t correct himself. The guard stands up, walking over so he is directly in front of the kneeling sub, amplifying his superiority.

“Are you sure?” Jacob shyly nods. He receives a hard slap across his cheek, the sound echoing around the room. “Lier,” the guard spits. He turns to address the rest of the room. “Everyone is dismissed for the day; you are to all return directly to your cell. 5226, your Master will be along to deliver your prize and collect you as soon as he is done attending to some business.” The guard turns back to Jacob. “You lost, and then you decided to lie about it. You late-bloomer shits always seem slow to learn.” Jacob is dragged out by the guard by his collar. Being the only one to have watched the whole spectacle, most of the others having vanished as soon as they heard the word ‘dismissed’. Blaine quickly chases after the others

Chapter Text

When Blaine reaches the room he heads straight into the washroom, having not been aware of his desperation until he considers it. He can’t remember when the last time he was allowed to use the toilet, for once thankful he isn’t fed much solid food.

With that need dealt with, he next heads into one of the showers, taking his time despite the cold spray. He washes his hair twice through, his unruly curls making him miss the gel and expensive shampoo he used to own.

He has been fairly lucky so far – if you could call it that – as he hasn’t really been missing his home until now. His mind being too preoccupied with making it through the next hour unharmed, even when his mind had the time to wonder it never strayed far from thoughts of what’s to come. His chest tightens, making breathing harder. Unable to see clearly through the tears starting to cloud his eyes, he fumbles in turning off the shower. Leaning back against the wall he slowly slides down, crouching on the floor; standing requiring more energy than he has to spare.

He wonders what his family is doing right now. He reckons it must be around 7pm, so they would likely all be sat in the dining room eating Mom’s home cooked meal. He can almost smell her famous apple pie. Hunter let slip this morning that it was a Friday, meaning his older brother would also be home for their family meal. No one (from his immediate family) had ever missed their Friday night dinner until he was marked a sub. Blaine’s insides curl up, feeling guilty. He wonders if they are sombre over the absence of him, or acting as though he never existed in the first place – after all, that is what the OSO advises family to do. Blaine and his father did not always have the best of relationships, especially not after Blaine had come out as gay, but his Dad wasn’t outright horrid towards him. Cooper may be a self-absorbed ass at times, but Blaine would trade anything to hear another sarcastic comment or inappropriate innuendo. Blaine would often have bruises for days after these Friday meals, Cooper having been kicking and pinching him the whole time. Rubbing his arms, he misses those bruises.

As for his Mom, it could be one of two things. She liked to take the simple path, so she could have easily decided to forget about him, or she would have turned to alcohol to force herself to forget, drowning her worries. Blaine hopes it’s the former, it would be much better for the others. He misses his mother’s cooking. Nothing would ever compare to her home cooked meals. His stomach growls at the thought.

Blaine slumps the rest of the way down to the floor, defeated.

His grandparents have probably erased all evidence of him. They were traditional Christians, believing Blaine to be sinful due to his sexuality. Was sinful, he corrects. They wouldn’t be talking about Blaine in present tense – even Blaine shouldn’t be, he is no longer Blaine, now he is 5226. His grandparents may have kept up a good charade while Blaine’s Mom was about, but their hate towards him was still as clear as day. As strange as it sounds, he still misses them. He could cope with their torment much easier than the guards.

They would no doubt think his new position in society is exactly what he deserves.

Blaine looks up, eyes tracing patterns through the ceiling tiles and fingers dancing with each other to prevent them balling into fists. He wonders what has happened to all his stuff. He misses his bow ties. His navy letterman jacket. Playing sports. His old boxy TV. Even the seven O’clock news, simply knowing what is happening in the outside world. It feels as though all that really exists to him is the dull compound walls, and temporarily Hunter’s house. He misses the feel of a breeze, the smell of freshly cut grass. It’s been a while since he just stopped to watch the clouds. Or the amazing colours of a sun set. He would often stay up, sitting on his window ledge and watching the sun dip below the horizon.

Someone he loved could have died, and he has no way of ever knowing. The guards have total control of his life, they get to decide what he knows and what is kept from him. And he knows they wouldn’t tell him something unless they could use it as manipulation.

He wonders what all his friends are doing; probably practicing singing for the Warblers. Blaine misses singing whenever he feels like it. They would be texting each other with new songs to try out, be it for competition or simply fun, seeing how well it fit their voices and style. Blaine never did manage to get the council to agree to a second Katy Perry number.

So much for Blaine’s dreams of performing on the big Broadway stage. His dreaming has been rerouted to belonging to a Master who is kind, doesn’t rape him – or at least is gentle during it – and lets him have a little bit of personal free time. It seems more unlikely than becoming the biggest Broadway star.

He wonders if the staff at the small café near his home know what happened. His parents wouldn’t have told them. Heck, they probably still don’t know that he spent hours down there, chatting to all the staff and even helping the manager’s daughter with her homework. His heart aches, he will miss that girl considerably. The family probably thinks he must have just disappeared off the face of the earth. What he would give to be able to go back in time and say good bye to everyone.

It was a mistake to go without a farewell, or at least an explanation. He sighs. It is by far his biggest regret so far.

He wonders if he will even survive the year. He drops his head into his hands, too heavy to hold up on his own. A sinking feeling comes over Blaine as he thinks of… what would happen if he doesn’t make it?

He rapidly tries to blink back the tears; he can’t let anyone see how weak he feels.

Eventually he stands up straight, shaking it off, getting back some composure. How he wished he could’ve boxed to help control his emotions quicker; it has always worked before.

He heads to the sinks, splashing cold water on his face, wishing there was a mirror in the room - that way he would know if his eyes are still red or if he is fine to exit out into the cage room. Shivering from the cold shower, having sat unmoving in the left over water, he bounces on the balls of his feet getting the blood flowing again. He was lucky no one came in while he was having his minor breakdown, but he is starting to push his luck.

Waiting a couple of minutes longer, he hopes it is enough to be able to pass as ‘fine’, before leaving the wash room and heading to sit with his temporary friendship group.

“You alright dude?” Nick asks before Blaine can even properly seat himself.

“Yeah,” he replies with a shrug of his shoulders. Thankfully, Nick doesn’t push further. He sits silently, trying to catch up with the topic of conversation. It doesn’t take too long to realize that in fact they are brainstorming lyrics, inspired by him.

“Puppy Blaine? Ready to listen to my-our song?” Brittany asks. “It’s not yet a chart topper, but it’s my first go!” She announces. Tina starts clapping out a beat, Brittany singing lead and Nick singing harmonizing back up.

You’re the only one, who gets special care

My cock, my cock

Sayin’, “What’s up?”

To my cock, my cock

More of a friend than a silly pup

My cock

You know what it is

Sayin’, “What’s up?” To my cock (ahh)

I’m sayin’ “What’s up?” To my cock (ahh)

I’m sayin’ “What’s up?” To my cock (ahhhh)

Blaine doesn’t know how to react. Part of him is shocked at simply how bad the song is, but a bigger part of him wants to laugh at the absurdity, and thank his friends for attempting to cheer him up. He claps.

“Umm. That’s a lot of cock?” He jokes. Nick laughs as though that comment is the most hilarious thing he has ever heard. The sub house appears to be draining any sense of normality out of them all. Brittany however looks seriously insulted.

“It was only a first run. And I bet you can’t come up with any other words!” Blaine takes this as a challenge, completely distracting himself from his earlier meltdown.

“Okay. Umm, Penis. Dick Umm.” Ok, that’s harder than he thought.

“Schlong.” Tina inputs. “Trouser snake. Knob. Johnson.”

“Tina is much better Blainey boy!” Nick laughs. Blaine sends him a glare.

“Love rod. Your turn.” Blaine challenges.

“Ok. Prick. Brittany?”

“Rod of pleasure.” Blaine gives a confused glance at the girl, but doesn’t question it further.

“Shaft.” Tina states.

“Wand.”

“Always a Harry Potter reference with you isn’t there!” Nick chuckle. “Umm, Tallywacker.”

“Ding dang doodle,” Brittany announces. The group sets into a rhythm, each in turn giving a word. Private eye, sausage, weenie, junk, manhood, dragon, beaver basher, baby-maker.

“Umm,” Tina thinks. “I’m out, I can’t come up with any more.” She frowns.

“Oh? Is this a competition?” Brittany askes curiously.

“It can be. Blaine?” They continue, no longer waiting for an answer from Tina. Cum gun, candle, dickie, disco stick. Nick runs out of ideas, leaving only Brittany and Blaine left competing for the title of ‘knows most words for dick’. Flesh tower, groin, little bob, old fellow, meter long king kong dong, piston, mayo shooting hot dog gun.

“How on earth can I better that?” Blaine objects, laughing. “I give up.”

“Does that mean I win?” Brittany asks. Blaine nods. “YAY!” She starts doing a little bum wiggle in celebration. Tina leaves with a chuckle, heading into the washroom with Brittany not far behind.

“Seriously Blaine, what’s wrong?” Nick asks in a hushed whisper. Blaine must have not made himself as presentable as he hoped. At least not enough that his best friend couldn’t tell.

“Nothing.”

“What’s he been making you do?” Nick persists.

“Just stuff. It’s mainly been sitting in the corner of his office not doing anything,” Blaine shrugs.

“I don’t believe you,” Nick counters.

“Honestly,” Blaine turns to look at Nick, “It’s been sitting around while Hunter does stuff, and then occasionally fetching things.”

“So why do you look so dead? Like you have given up already?” He accuses. Blaine sighs, realizing Nick is not about to drop it.

“It’s. It’s Sophia.”

“Sophia? Who on earth is that?” Nick snapped.

“She’s Hunter’s personal sub. She is, well, she is a bitch. She doesn’t like me. I thought you know, there would have been some solidarity between all us subs, but there really isn’t. Her biggest concern is that Hunter likes me more, which means he will get rid of her, making me the enemy.”

“She likes being with Hunter?” Nick asks confused. Blaine shakes his head.

“Supposedly the unknown is worse. I guess I agree. At least you know exactly what that person expects from you, but if you get sold on then your new Master could be ten times worse, you can’t know.” Nick doesn’t look convinced. “And I don’t like being fed-“

“What’s wrong with eating? Surely the food is better!” Interrupts Nick.

“Well, kind of. But Hunter always makes me eat out of his hand, like a pet.” To Nick’s credit, he looks appalled.

“Well you should stand up to him! I don’t care what anyone says, we are all still human!” Blaine shakes his head, remembering Sophia’s punishment for not waking Hunter up on time. “What?” Nick asks, having been able to recognize Blaine’s expression.

“It’s different with Hunter than it is here. The sub house seems to have its limits, albeit not huge ones. Hunter wouldn’t think twice about beating a sub within an inch of their life. I don’t think he would hit me, but probably use you or Sophia to punish me.”

“What’s going on Blaine?” Nick demands, sensing the boy is hiding something.

“Yesterday, Sophia didn’t hear Hunter’s alarm so wasn’t ready to service him in the morning. When we got back last night.” Blaine shakes his head, unable to say it out loud. “The things he did, the things he said,” he pauses, deciding to skip over exactly what happened. “I can’t believe she was still alive. And for the last twenty-four hours she has been locked in a cage in the dungeon.” Blaine watches a visible shudder travel through Nick. “And he made me put her there. And I don’t know if she will still be alive when we go back. And there is absolutely nothing I can do other than try and be the perfect sub. But in doing that it will only make it worse for her. And I don’t know what to do!” He almost shouts.

“Blaine,” Nick whispers, leaning forwards and taking him into a comforting hug. Blaine falls into the embrace, needing the support.

“It’s… it’s,” he stutters. “I knew it would be bad, being a sub. But… I-I was not exp-expecting this!” He says between gasps. “I miss home. I miss fre-freedom. I m-miss simply be-being a teenager. This, this isn’t living! What is the point of me even being alive right now!”

“Shh,” Nick calms. Blaine didn’t realize how loud he had gotten, everyone in the room now listening to his words. Blaine snuggles further into his friend’s arms, exactly the same as how he used to as a child with Cooper.

“I, I don’t want this anymore Nick.” Blaine stays like that in Nick’s arms for a considerable amount of time. He is very surprised Hunter has not yet come to collect him. Tina and Brittany re-joined them, not mentioning anything about Blaine’s position and instead the three friends having a conversation as though Blaine isn’t even present.

“Blaine?” Brittany calls. “You look like an adorable poodle.” At first Blaine is insulted, but when he looks around and sees the sincere look on the girls face he realizes she is simply trying to cheer him up. He smiles. Brittany takes this as an invitation and starts patting his hair. Blaine’s first instinct is to shout at her, wasn’t he just talking about wanting to not feel like some pet? But he holds his tongue, not wanting to upset the naive girl.

“It’s like having good old snuggly Blaine back,” Nick comments. It’s true, he used to be the most cuddly and affectionate of the Warblers, always snuggling up to one of them during their late night movie marathons, even the straight guys.

“I want a Blaine cuddle!” Tina announces to the room, diving across their little circle – triangle – and tackling the two boys in a huge. Brittany seems to feel left out, as she joins in, announcing “Group hugs!” Blaine laughs from among the mass of naked limbs, surprisingly feeling comfortable despite the close proximity to boobs.

“Everyone needs Blaine cuddles sometimes,” Nick shares once everyone breaks apart, “It makes everyone feel better.”

“Thanks guys,” Blaine smiles, feeling a little better than before.

“You need to remember, don’t give in. It won’t stop things from getting worse, but prevents them from getting better. Another, what, two or three more days with Hunter?” Blaine shrugs, not exactly knowing how long he has. “And then you will be back with us, and things will be easier. Don’t give up, remember why you want to keep going. Then there is another forty-eight or so weeks and we will be with Jeff and Trent. It’s hard to keep track of passing time…” Blaine shrugs.

“Forty-eight weeks is a long time,” he complains.

“Survive forty-eight, live to see forty-nine.” Tina inputs.

“Very true. It may be a long time, but you can still see the end. Then we will be back with our friends and families, I will be back with my boyfriend. It will be worth it. Yes, it won’t be the same as before, but we will probably be fairly safe. You won’t have to worry about those homophobes who attacked you. If they did that now they would be given a huge sentence. Doms don’t touch subs that are not theirs, not without permission from their owner.” Blaine doesn’t feel convinced.

“Put your hand over your heart,” instructs Brittany. Blaine obeys, albeit warily. “Can you feel your heart?” He nods. “That’s called purpose. You are alive for a reason. You shouldn’t ever give up.”

Chapter Text

By the time Hunter arrives a lot of the subs, including Tina, have already voluntarily made their way to their cages, exhausted from the day. Blaine, Nick and Brittany are all still up, but none of them are talking, simply content to be next to each other. Blaine can tell Nick is fighting to stay awake, his head keeps dropping onto Blaine’s shoulder, which in turn wakes him only to start the circle a few moments later.

“Pet. Let’s go.” Blaine rises, jostling Nick in the process. Nick is about to speak his protest before his eyes land on Hunter, stopping him in his tracks. He drops his eyes in submission. “Has no one come to lock you in yet?” Hunter asks no one in particular, despite the obvious answer. He sighs in exasperation as Blaine joins him outside the cell. “Fucking have to do everything here! Right you sluts, cages now.” Hunter instructs as he locks the cell door. The remaining few stragglers settle in for the night, and as soon as everyone is safely in their cages Hunter hits a switch on the wall, turning off the cell light. Hunter shuts the door, listening for a quiet click signifying the electronic lock had engaged.

“I hear you have been very good today pet,” Hunter states, leading the way out of the building. Blaine doesn’t think he requires a response, so he stays silent. “You will get your little reward when we get home. Does that sound good?” Blaine nods shyly, fearing it is a trick question. Hunter ruffles his hair with a laugh. “Come on boy, cheer up!” He follows Hunter as he scans some kind of ID card to open the door they reached. As it opens a strong flash of light powers through the sky making Blaine jump; he didn’t realize there was a storm outside. Hunter pauses with a sigh, before disappearing back into the building and returning wearing a long waterproof coat. Without any consideration for Blaine’s state of undress, Hunter briskly walks across the carpark to his vehicle. Blaine reluctantly follows a step behind.


It isn’t raining quite as heavily when they reach Hunters house, although Blaine is still shivering when Hunter opens the trunk to let him out.

“Wait for me in the main room,” Hunter orders before disappearing off somewhere to do who-knows-what.

Blaine does as instructed and waits for Hunter to return, settling down on his knees. Seeing his friends earlier did make him feel more optimistic and less helpless, knowing he isn’t the only one in emotional turmoil, however he now feels much lonelier than before. Sure, he has his friends at the sub house, but they are only temporary. In under a year they will all be sold, likely bought by different people living in different places. There is the slim chance the Warblers will be able to buy both him and Nick, however the more Blaine starts to learn about the type of people who buy subs, the less likely he thinks it will be. Assuming Blaine is bought by someone else there is an almost zero chance of ever being reunited with his fellow sub friends. He might not be the only sub at wherever he ends up, but he will have no one to confide in, having to carry all his concerns and worries on his own shoulders.

The arrival of Sophia breaks Blaine out of his daydream. She is walking with a slight limp, and Blaine can see she must have been recently slapped around her check, but overall she isn’t looking quite as bad as Blaine was expecting. Of course, he is yet to see the state of her back. With Hunter following almost directly behind her, it wouldn’t surprise Blaine if she fighting to downplay her pain. Sophia takes her place next to Blaine, both waiting for their next order.

“Sophia. Your punishment is now complete; however you are on probation. Any more serious fuck ups and I will be sending you back, whether there is a replacement for you ready or not. Understood?” Sophia nods. “You are dismissed early for the day, and I’m granting you the morning off as well. However I expect you to return to normal duties by the afternoon.” Sophia scurries off, quick to get away from Hunter. “I’ve got your reward for you, pet. Would you like it?” Blaine stays silent, unsure of how he should be acting. “Well pet?” Blaine nods timidly. “Beg for it then!” Hunter laughs.

Blaine looks up through his eyelashes, trying to work out if Hunter is being serious or just trying to pull his leg. Although Hunter doesn’t have many facial expressions beyond that of intimidating or angry, Blaine can tell he is expected to beg.

“Umm… Please Master?” Hunter tuts in disapproval.

“You have got to mean it! Come on boy, what is it you want?”

Blaine takes a breath to collect himself, before looking up at Hunter.

“Please Master, please may I receive my reward? I was so good for you, I didn’t want to show you up. I was on my best behaviour. I wanted to show all the other guards just how good you are at being a Master. My Master. And…” Blaine hesitates, surprised out how true his thought is, “and I wanted to make you proud.” Blaine falls back on his heels, unaware of having risen up on his knees during his small speech.

Hunter smiles, reaching into his back trouser packet. “Good boy,” he praises. “Here you are. And you are also dismissed for the day.” Hunter walks away, leaving Blaine with his head bowed, almost afraid to look at what Hunter placed in his hand.

Once Hunter is well out of range, Blaine slowly uncurls his fingers, revealing two Hershey's Kisses. He quickly unwraps the first, delicately placing it on his tongue and letting it completely melt. After so long without chocolate, it feels like the best thing he has ever eaten. Once the first chocolate is completely melted he looks at the second, considering it. As much as he would love to feel it melting on his tongue like the first, he knows of a girl who would be much more appreciative of it. He pulls his eyes away from the beckoning silver wrapper and disappears of in search of Sophia.


The next day Blaine wakes up feeling well rested but stiff. After he gave Sophia his last chocolate they spent a little while talking, becoming closer in the process. Sophia was still a little cold to him, making him sleep on the floor rather than sharing the mattress, but overall it was an improvement from before. Plus, the girl did have a good reason for not sharing the matress; she had spent the previous 24 hours locked in a cage after a serve punishment.

He hears a loud crash before a string of curse words. Looking around the small room Blaine notices Sophia is now also awake. She sighs before looking at Blaine, communicating with her look ‘Now what’s the matter with him!’

Blaine shrugs. “Do we need to go help?”

“Not unless he-“

“Slut! Pet! Get your backsides here this instant!” Hunter hollas as if on cue.

“Calls.” Sophia finishes dejectedly. They both start getting up, Sophia barely making it to her feet before her legs buckle under her. Blaine bends down to help, and after a pause she reluctantly accepts his outstretched hand. They trudge down the stairs together, Blaine refusing to let go of Sophia until just before they come into the view of Hunter, dropping down to their knees half way between the door and Hunter.

“I’m leaving you both here today. I’ve left a list on the fridge with what needs doing; split it however you wish. And clean this mess.”

With that he leaves. Blaine looks around the kitchen at all the pots and pans scattered about everywhere, trying to work out if Hunter made the mess on purpose or if it was accidental.                                                                   

Once the pair hear Hunter’s car leave the drive, there is an almost audible sigh of relief. Blaine slowly stands up and retrieves Hunter’s list.

“Read it out,” Sophia demands.

“Kitchen. Guest rooms. Meeting room. Entrances,” Blaine lists, confused. “What does that mean?”

“That Master thinks there is a possibility guests could be staying over in the next few days. He wants those rooms cleaning for their arrival, as well as the route they would take through the house.” Blaine’s expression must portray his confusion as Sophia elaborates. “Master likes the house to have a complete spring clean if he knows people are coming over in advance. So it means everything vacuumed, the floors polished, the rooms made up to five star standard and so on. If he isn’t sure, or he isn’t given much warning, he just asks me to clean the places the visitors would see, since the house is kept tidy enough from a distance to be passable. Cleaning all those places to his standard in a day is going to be impossible.” Blaine nods in understanding, reading the remainder of the list.

“Weed garden borders. Clean pool/fix pool filter. Necessities.”

“On a busy day like today that simply means cooking dinner, taking the bins out, and possibly doing a load of laundry if its needed,” Sophia interrupts before Blaine can ask. “Is there anything else?” Blaine shakes his head as Sophia rises to her feet, steadier now. “OK. Do you know anything about pool filters?”

“I know a little bit about mechanics as my Dad and I rebuilt a car together. I’m not sure if I know enough but I could try?”

“That would be amazing. Master is always in a better mood if he doesn’t have to pay to get someone in. You go have a look at that first. If you don’t have any sort of idea after a quick look don’t bother and just clean the pool by hand, you can always try again later. The chemicals and stuff you might need are all in the shed by the pool. I will start on the meeting room while you’re doing that. Since you are outside anyway, you can do the weeding. Just pull out the weeds from the boarders and throw them in the compost bin behind the shed. Hopefully by the time you have finished that I will have also finished the entrances and maybe polished as well. Depending on time we might get chance to stop for lunch. I will show you what needs doing in the guest rooms, and then leave you finishing them while I start on the kitchen. Hopefully I can cook and clean at the same time. The finishing touches will probably have to be done once Master is home unfortunately.” Sophia pauses, seeming to do some mental calculations before letting out a deep breath. “Right. I think that will work. Good luck,” she smiles at him before heading up the stairs, still slightly unsteady on her feet but stable enough Blaine is relatively happy to leave her be, starting in the direction of the large garden.


Two hours later and Blaine had finally fixed the filter. What he initially thought would be a quick and simple fix turned out a lot more complicated when the device didn’t come apart how he expected. He holds his breath as he turns it on, praying he had done it right. After a tense moment, he finally hears the system coming to life, and breathes a sigh of relief. He picks up a net that was lying about to quickly catch the few stray leaves in the pool before being fully satisfied that the job is complete.

Just as he is putting the net away, he notices Sophia beckoning him from the doorway.

“How you getting on?” She asks in greeting as he reaches her.

“Just got the filter working. I’ve put the chemicals in the pool so hopefully it will now be alright to sort itself out. Sorry it took me so long,” he apologises.

“That’s alright. I didn’t think it would be fixable so didn’t think it would take so long, but the fact you have fixed it is excellent. Do you want to come get lunch before starting on the garden? It’s about half past one.”

“Please!” Blaine replies, following behind Sophia.

They enter the kitchen and Sophia starts pottering about, pulling out a couple of bowls and spoons from their designated draws and putting them on the island.

“Can I help with anything?” Blaine asks, feeling awkward just standing there.

“Not much to help with I’m afraid. It’s packaged sub-grub for us,” she frowns, rummaging through a large tub in one of the bottom cupboards. “We have got a choice of; vegetable, chicken, beef or pork. Which takes your fancy?”

“Umm… Chicken?” Blaine replies unsurely, picking his favourite meet from the selection. Sophia grabs two silver foil packets and stands up, turning towards Blaine as she does so.

“Sorry, I forgot they cooked for you at the sub house.” She kicks the cupboard shut and moves to turn on the kettle. “Sub-grub is the cheap alternative Dom’s tend to give us. I don’t really know what it is, but consists of some kind of gloop that is meant to be meat, as well as a mix that contains the supplements we need to get through the day. In a way it is much better than normal food as it really does give you plenty of energy, and one of these a day is much easier than worrying if your Master is going to provide you enough.” She pauses, opening both pouches before pouring in the boiled water and resealing.

“If they are that good, why are they not used at the sub house?” Blaine asks as Sophia starts shaking the packets.

“I’ve never been told, but I’ve come up with the theory that because of how many meals they have to provide, it does work out cheaper for them to buy in the out of date or unusable foods and use them. Plus, it’s the sub’s that cook – it’s a something you will start doing soon as apparently a sub that can’t cook isn’t any good – and there is no point just teaching us all how to boil a kettle and use a microwave. So since they have a lot of subs cooking in the kitchen, and a lot has to be cooked, the powers above must have decided to do it this way.” Sophia pours each packet into one of the respective bowls on the side.

“How can it be cheaper? Surely the sub house doesn’t have to pay full price for these packets?” Sophia heads to the microwave, placing the bowls inside and setting the timer for seven minutes.

“Sub-grub isn’t anything to do with the OSO, they are an independent brand. I’m sure the OSO would get a bulk buy discount, but they wouldn’t get it for next to nothing like you were probably imagining.”

“Oh.” Blaine contemplates. “I never really thought about other businesses being involved.”

“There are loads. The OSO literally just deals with the submissives. All the collars, equipment, accessories and so on are from other companies. There are some companies that are affiliated with the OSO, and are promoted at the auctions, but there are a lot of other brands and designs. Only first time owners will buy the add-ons at the auctions as everyone else knows there is much better for much cheaper if they were to look online or even in the malls.”

“Oh.” Blaine replies, surprised at how silly he feels for not knowing. Of course other people would make businesses out of selling things like collars. Thinking about it, he wouldn’t be surprised if the companies who sell dog collars also sell them for subs. It would make sense for them to broaden their market.

“Anyway, back to the present. I have managed to get the meeting room and entrances cleaned; I just have to polish the floors. I’m going to do that after eating. I’m going to make a start on the guest bedrooms, but I might have to leave some of it to you to help with because of my back, as long as you would be ok with that?” She continues without waiting for a response. “It will probably take you a while to do the weeding, so hopefully I will have mostly finished the rooms by the time you are done and then you can do the bits that are left. Then we can both work in the kitchen and hopefully be pretty much finished before Master gets back.”

“Sounds a plan,” Blaine responds just as the microwave pings. Sophia retrieves the bowls and returns to sit next to him, placing a bowl in front of Blaine. Blaine looks at the sub-grub and is hesitant to try it, only taking a small bite off his spoon. The best way he can describe it is dog food mixed with a protein shake, odd lumps of slime amongst the think mixture. Certainly, there is no real meat in the pouches, just artificial flavour. Thankfully it tastes better than it looks, and is just siding on the good side of the edible-or-not line.


After eating Blaine heads back outside to start on the gardening. Although the sun is out, the ground is still very damp and muddy from last nights storm. Without any other option, Blaine had resigned himself to getting a little muddy from kneeling. He didn’t anticipate quite how muddy he would get. Once finished, he starts making his way back into the house, planning on getting a quick shower before hunting out Sophia to help her with the remaining rooms.

“PET!” He freezes in his tracks, knowing exactly who it is. He turns around slowly, spotting Hunter in the living room. “Come here boy.”

Blaine cautiously creeps into the room, very aware of his mess. He doesn’t kneel, which causes a disapproving look from Hunter.

“You are a mess boy!”

“Sorry Master,” Blaine apologises, not truly meaning it. Hunter tuts upon taking note of the mud.

“Quickly get clean then come see me,” he orders. Blaine disappears as fast as possible, jumping in the cold shower just long enough to mostly clean himself off mud, before shaking himself dry – not knowing where the towels are, or even if he is allowed one – before returning to Hunter and kneeling at his feet submissively.

“Good boy pet,” he praises, running a hand through Blaine’s wet and matted hair. “I need you looking your best tomorrow. I will leave everything out for you tonight, and there will be some clothes for you to wear in the morning.” Blaine nods, understanding the seriousness of being given clothes, before relaxing back into the gentle rhythm of Hunter’s hand through his hair. “I have a very important meeting tomorrow and I’m taking you with me. It is certainly in your best interests to behave.” Hunter adds with a sinister smile, sending a shiver through Blaine’s spine. He nods uneasily as Hunter keeps stroking his head. They stay sat like that for a while, Blaine almost purring from the ministrations, relaxing into Hunter’s legs. Hunter chuckles. “Of course you’re going to behave for me. You are such a good boy.” He pats Blaine’s back in an up-you-get gesture. “Come on boy, enough lazing around. Go help slut get the rest of the jobs done, and then you can go make yourself look pretty for me.”

Blaine gets up and heads off in search of Sophia, both working efficiently to prepare Hunter’s dinner and get the kitchen cleaned in record time. Once finished Sophia goes to service Hunter while Blaine makes his way upstairs and into Sophia’s room.

On the floor next to the mattress is a pile of items. Taking a closer look he spots shampoo, conditioner, hair gel, toothpaste and brush, as well as the promised clothes and a bulb shaped object with a long spout.

Blaine picks it up and keeps turning it in his hands, trying to work out what the object is, before abruptly throwing it on the floor. Blaine has no idea what is happening tomorrow, but if he is expected to use a douche he knows he isn’t going to enjoy it.

Chapter Text

After approximately two hours cramped in the trunk of Hunter’s car, Blaine’s right leg having gone numb ten minutes into the trip, the engine finally shudders to a stop. When the roof of the trunk starts to rise Blaine breathes a sigh of relief, hoping this means he will finally be able to move and get the blood following back into his leg.

“Come on pet,” Hunter motioned. Blaine scrambles out of the car before standing head bowed and hands behind his back, all his weight on one leg to not risk the possibility of the other giving out, gently wiggling his toes to try and regain feeling without Hunter noticing. “Repeat to me the rules.” He orders.

“No talking. Obey all orders from anyone, as long as it doesn’t conflict with yours. I should not draw attention to myself. I am not only representing you, I am representing the OSO, so I must be on my best behaviour. I am still here to serve you, don’t let anything that happens distract me for my main purpose.” He answers to Hunter’s shoes, robotically repeating everything Hunter told him this morning.

“Good boy,” Hunter praises, running his hands through Blaine’s hair the way he has recently discovered he likes. “You are not a sub in training today, nor are you a sub with me for punishment, you are just here to be serving me.” Blaine nods in understanding. He isn’t meant to be anyone today, he is purely Hunter’s helper. “Right, come on then, lets get this over and done with.” He starts walking off before pausing and turning back to Blaine. “Brush yourself off, your clothes are covered in filth.”

Blaine looks down at the navy polo shirt and grey pants Hunter gave him to wear – along with the matching navy plimsols, - now slightly covered in dust and fluff from Hunter’s car. He does his best to get rid of the worst of the lint and dirt before briskly walking to catch up with Hunter, a slight limp from his still half-dead leg. 


 

They end up in a large room with an oblong table filling most of the space, a few people scattered around it. Hunter takes a seat near the head of the table after a quick greeting to those already there. Without prompting Blaine heads under the table and kneels by Hunter’s feet, leaning against his legs.

“Good boy,” Hunter praises, stroking Blaine’s hair. He relaxes into the constant touch, his mind drifting freely as the room slowly fills around him. He doesn’t quite realise how little attention he had been paying until his is broken out of his thoughts by the disappearance of Hunter’s legs, unsure how much time had truly passed. Luckily Blaine is able to catch himself in time before he falls, happy he managed to avoid drawing attention to himself. Looking around from his view under the table Blaine can tell all the seats have been occupied since he arrived. There are also a few other subs sat at their owner’s feet, however none of them are leaning against their owner’s legs like Blaine was with his Master. He reasons with himself that if it was an issue Hunter would have corrected him, so doesn’t dwell on the matter.

“… and this is where I disagree.” Blaine is stopped in his analysis of the room when he realizes the speaker is Hunter, who has stood up in his place. “The subs all develop at their own rate. Some really don’t need a whole year of training!”

“Hunter, I don’t understand your point. So what if some are more impressionable than others; the studies that have been conducted show that for subs to get the skills we need it takes a year,” someone disputes.

“And I believe those studies-“ Hunter starts before being interrupted.

“That’s not what you were saying?” Someone else objects.

“Hear me out!” Hunter raises his voice, clearly getting annoyed by the interruptions. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “The average sub takes that long. The majority do, from my experience. But take it from the person who is overseeing every single sub we take in; not all of them do.”

“Ok. So the odd one learns quicker. I still don’t see what point you are trying to make.”

“To save money we should accelerate some of them through the system. Why should they be pulled through in months? Why don’t we speed up the training of those we can?”

“How will that help?” Another voice asks.

“Because we will have less in the house at a time, so we can save on resources and wages,” Hunter answers.

“Hunter, while I thank you for your input, I don’t think it’s viable. It would mean each sub would need a personal structure, which in itself would counteract what was being saved.” Hunter sighs, clearly the others were not quite on the same page as him.

“By the end of today,” he starts, sitting down, “I will have persuaded you otherwise.”

“We will see…” someone responds, moving on to the next topic. Blaine zones back out of the discussion now Hunter is no longer involved, trying to reach his drifty place again as he leans back on Hunter’s legs. However, without Hunter stroking his hair he seems unable to quite reach his place of peace, so instead starts coming up with wild scenarios for the previous lives of the other subs with him. Before he comes up with a back story for the Adam Lambert look alike he is interrupted by Hunter.

“Boy.” Blaine raises his head slightly to show he is listening, but without making disrespectful eye contact. “Go fetch me a coffee,” he orders. Blaine nods before crawling between two of the chairs blocking his exit from beneath the table, careful to not touch either chair and disturb the Dom’s occupying them. He leaves the room silently, panicking slightly when he realizes he has no idea where to go or how to act. He walks down the corridor, hoping beyond hope that eventually he will end up where he needs to be.

He turns down several corridors, increasingly regretting to not ask Hunter where it is he should be going, when he has another moment of panic. He spots a Domme coming his way, worried she is going to punish him because he has somehow ended up out of bounds, however she passes by with nothing more than a quick glance at his collar, as though the leather means he isn’t even worthy of a moments thought.

Turning into the next corridor he spots a counter with large hot water tanks on, along with mugs, saucers, and everything else he needs. He quickly makes a coffee, no milk and two sugars as he has seen Sophia make it for hunter before, grabbing an extra sugar packet and little milk pot in case he has got it wrong, before making his way back to the meeting as quickly as he dares walk.

When he gets back to the room he silently places the coffee in front of Hunter, making sure not to disturb anyone. He is about to start the tricky task of making his way back under the table when a hand on his upper arm stops him.

“Stay standing,” Hunter commands. Blaine feels awkward and exposed standing next to Hunter in a room full of Doms, but none of them seem to even notice him.

Eventually he starts to relax once realizing no one is going to pay him any attention, the discussion carrying on around him.

“Can I please draw your attention to my boy here,” Hunter points at him, making Blaine tense up. “He makes it clear that we can change the training schedules. We don’t need to teach them all the theory on how to behave before we sell them, they need on the job training!”

“Look at me boy,” the guy at the head of the table commands. Blaine looks at the guy’s chest, not meeting his eyes. They man hums in consideration. “How long have you been in the system?” Blaine is a little shocked to have been asked a direct question, and Hunter’s rule of not talking pops into his head. “Well?” The man prompts. Blaine is hesitant but decides to answer.

“I was in holding for a week, and I am still in my first month of belonging to the sub house.” Blaine discreetly looks at Hunter out of the corner of his vision, trying to gage if he was correct in answering, however Hunter’s expression gives nothing away.

“Interesting.” He turns to Hunter. “And how long has he been with you?”

“Just under a week now. It was part of his punishment,” he answers.

“Punishment for what?” The man asks, looking back at Blaine.

“An accumulation of disobeyed orders,” Hunter replies simply.

“So this boy has been in the system for about a month. Is with you for disobeying. And in less than a week he is trusted to be seen in public with you. You have my attention. What do you propose Mr. Clarington?” The man inquires.

Before speaking, Hunter first points at Blaine to get his attention, before redirecting his finger to the floor underneath the table. Blaine gets the prompt and returns to his previous position on his knees underneath the table. Once he has settled down, Hunter starts talking.

“I was thinking we could keep the start of the training how it is, as it is certainly successful in breaking them down. And once it is broken we should then move the individual on to the household maintenance training, and as soon as that is completed we should ship them out. We could either sell them at that lowered standard, or we could ‘adopt’ them out.”

“What do you mean by adoption?” Someone asks.

“Have people take them on for a month for free, and then return them for us to sell. It’s possible we would have to train the people who adopt them to make sure they provide the right training, or we would have to do extensive background checks, but people would be willing to take them for free as it means they get a sub without having to pay for it. Which would also mean there would be half as many subs at the house, so would cut down on wages and resources, plus the person who adopts the sub might decide they want to keep it, meaning we have a really easy sale. And it may also increase the demand for subs because more get brought without going up for auction, so we could get away with inflating the prices. Although in the short run it may cost a little more to get people trained to adopt the subs, in the long run we should make more money.” Blaine really doesn’t like the sound of Hunter’s proposal.

“That certainly sounds a good idea. However won’t it reduce the price of subs because it would eliminate the first owner prestige?” Blaine recognises the voice of being the man at the head of the table.

“There is that possibility, however that benefit is non-existent as it is at the moment. Everyone knows that the sub they buy isn’t brand new, that it has already been used. Realistically, they would be ‘newer’ if they were to have been adopted, because they would have been fucked by fewer people. We might just have to do a little bit of marketing to persuade the public.”

“Stick a research team together to look into that. Mr. Johnson, is that possible?” The head man asks.

“Should be if I only pull out a couple of people from a few different departments,” someone answers.

“All sorted. Mr. Smythe, is there any other matters left to deal with?” The head man asks. After a brief pause the man continues. “Good. Alright then folks, meeting dismissed. Lets go get drunk! Hunter, we still ok to use yours?”

“Yup, though you will have to share rooms. How about all park at mine and drop the subs off, then call a taxi?” Hunter proposes. After a murmuring of agreement people start moving. “Come on pet,” Hunter whispers to Blaine. “You have been a very good boy, don’t think I didn’t notice. I will remember that later.” 


 

Blaine had been dropped off back at Hunter’s with the other subs from the meeting, with strict instructions to clean the living room and set up some extra bed space in the meeting rooms. Sophia took charge of directing everyone to get the job done as quickly as possible, sending Blaine and two others to get the meeting rooms set up, leaving herself and the remaining subs working efficiently to tidy up the living room.

When the Doms return several hours later everything is completed and all seven subs are patiently waiting on their knees in the foyer. Blaine had taken of his shoes but remained clothed, following the lead of the other subs. However, he feels less optimistic when he realizes just how drunk all the returning Doms are, cornered about how this may affect his safety.

Most of them stumble their way through to the living room with no problems, a few of them ordering their subs over with them. Hunter doesn’t so much look at Blaine or Sophia, absorbed in his own overly loud discussion with a woman from the meeting.

“I don’t get,” the woman almost shouts, spilling wine from the bottle in her hand, “why you don’t get yourself a nice little girl or guy to settle down with!”

“Imm nott GAY!” Hunter slurs.

“What about the sub you had earlier?” She exclaims.

“Don’t count. It’s a sub!” He argues.

“But surely, sex with a human is better than a toy?” Blaine can hear the frown in her voice, even though they have just disappeared into the living room out of view.

“Won’t ben-end over an’ take it like a sub!” He hiccups. Blaine frowns at that. Of course they won’t, if a Dom did half of what they do to subs to another free person they would end up with their backsides dumped in jail! 


 

The party is in full swing, but Blaine just wishes he could go to bed. Thankfully he hasn’t been required to do anything other than remaining in the foyer and sitting pretty. A few of his fellow subs have been called away for acts Blaine is trying to pretend didn’t happen, silently returning twenty or so minutes later. Blaine kneels in silence, all attempts to talk to his neighbouring subs had been shot down after a few warning glares.

“Well hello there. You all lined up nice and pretty for my picking,” starts a voice he vaguely remembers from the meeting. “You are particularly of interest to me,” the man taunts, getting in Blaine’s face. The man’s breath stinks of alcohol. “My son keeps asking me to get him a sub of his own, and you are certainly his type.” He loops a finger through the d-ring of Blaine’s collar, pulling him up off his knees. “My type too. I wouldn’t mind getting you for Sebastian, we could share!” Blaine shudders. The man looks over his shoulders and upon seeing no one he pulls Blaine all the way to his feet, almost strangling him.

“Oi! Barry!” Blaine hears someone shout, having just entered the room. “He aint yours!”

“Not yet,” the man – Barry? - replies. “Hunter let me borrow him!”

“If he shared his subs I would’ve had the girl ages ago!”

“Yes well, this one isn’t technically his!” Barry responds smugly. Surely it isn’t true, Hunter wouldn’t have lent him out just like this?

“I’m going to find Hunter!” The person says before disappearing.

“Shit!” Barry curses. “Come on. We need to go quick!” He says, already harshly pulling Blaine up the stairs. Blaine tries to fight, but the man’s grip is unforgiving, and the more he fights the more he struggles for breath, the collar restricting his airway.

He is dragged to one of the guest rooms on the first floor, pushed in the direction of the bed as Barry turns and locks the door behind them. Blaine falls to the floor when the momentum from the push runs out. He takes in big lung-fulls of breaths, the collar no longer being as restrictive.

“Strip!” Blaine turns around to look at him dubiously. “Lower your eyes slave! Hunter said you were well trained!” Blaine looks at the locked door, contemplating escape. Barry advances on him, grabbing his collar and completely lifting him off the floor. “Strip!” He orders again.

“N-no,” Blaine whimpers.

“Y-yes!” Barry mocks, walking forwards until Blaine is sandwiched against the bed. “I’m going to be nice to you by asking a third and final time, and if you don’t nice Mr. Smythe is going to disappear. Strip!” Blaine shakes his head no, but say anything. “Fine!”

Barry grabs the base of Blaine’s polo shirt, pulling it up with one hard tug. Blaine is left disorientated as the top is left half on, trapping his arms above his face and blocking his vision. He tries to fight it back down to cover himself, but Barry has got a strong grip on the bunched-up fabric above him. Instead Blaine drops down, pulling the shirt completely of and freeing himself from Barry’s hold. He tries to take advantage of the slight upper hand he now has by pushing past the slightly confused man and trying to make it to the door. However Barry recovers from the small hiccup much faster than Blaine anticipated, spinning round and catching him just before he is able to unlock the door. He pushes all his weight into Blaine’s back, completely trapping him against the door, unable to move an inch.

“Doing it this way are we slave? I can play dirty too,” he almost cackles, collecting Blaine’s wrists and securely holding them both in one of his large hands. 

Blaine is spun round and lead back to the bed, were he is forced down on his stomach. The man then uses his spare hand to repeatedly hit Blaine’s ass. Despite the layer of clothing between him and the man’s hand, Blaine starts struggling to fight the man off, the painful hits taking all his focus.

“That’s it baby. Cry it all out,” the man coons once he realizes Blaine’s resistance is starting to fall. Blaine didn’t realize he had started crying. Eventually he stops squirming in the man’s hold, having used up most of his energy. “Good boy,” he praises, the intensity of the hits lessoning.

When the man feels Blaine completely give in, his muscles untensing slightly, the hits finally draw to a stop.

“Now, wouldn’t that have been easier to just behave in the first place hey?” He patronises. The man lets go off him, but before Blaine can get his thoughts in order to even begin considering moving the man had returned. “Now, since you’ve already proven you can’t be trusted, we are going to do this my way. Hands towards the headboard,” he instructs. Blaine is reluctant to do so, and pauses long enough for the man to apply another smack to his tender backside as a warning, but eventually he lifts his hands, surrendering to the man he has no way of beating. Blaine hopes that if he is simply compliant from now on, Barry will not see any more reason to hurt him further.

Blaine feels the man straddle him in order to reach his wrists, refusing to open his eyes to witness exactly what is happening.

“Shuffle up a bit,” Barry orders, Blaine doing so without complaint. He hears the clink of his wrist cuffs as Barry links them together through the slats in the headboard, leaving him bound to the bed. All fight leaving Blaine as the extent of his helplessness truely kicks in. Barry shuffles down Blaine’s body, pulling Blaine’s lose fitting pants with him. Blaine lifts his legs slightly to aid the man, hoping he will go gentler if Blaine shows he understands his place.

“That’s a good boy,” Barry praises. “Are your lessons starting to come back to you at last? You remembering that this body no longer belongs to you?”

“It belongs to my master,” Blaine starts, finding the last bit of fight within him. “You are not my master. No one is. I have not yet been bought, so I still have ownership of myself.”

Barry slaps his reddened ass.

“Oh but I disagree! You see, the OSO own you. They are providing you with food, shelter, and are even educating you. Therefore it can be said that you are paying for this care by handing over your body to them. The OSO owns you. However the OSO is not an individual person, and instead are a collection of staff, off which I am one. I have as much right to you as Hunter does. And if he can use the subs in his care, then so can I!” During his speech, Barry had undone his belt and pulled down his flies. Just as he is about to pull his cock free there is a knock on the door.

“I know you are in there you ass!” Calls the voice at the door. Barry lunges forwards and places his hand over Blaine’s mouth, preventing any noise.  “Barry Smythe, open this door!”

“Shhh,” Barry whispers.

“I am not above breaking the doors in my own home!” Hunter shouts in warning.

“Shit,” Barry mutters under his breath. “No screaming,” he whispers, moving back down the bed but his hand remaining over Blaine’s mouth as the other works on lining up his cock with Blaine’s unprepared hole.

Blaine starts whimpering, wishing he could be anywhere else, hoping Hunter makes good on his promise of breaking the door.

“Shut it, slut!” Barry hisses, slapping Blaine’s backside loud enough to be heard outside the room. Blaine soundlessly screams, any noise managing to escape being muffled by the hand still round his mouth. Blaine feels a blunt force against his hole and tenses up, trying to block it out. As Barry starts to push in, stretching the reluctant muscle, there is a loud commotion outside the door. This seems to hurry Barry, his cock becoming more insistent against Blaine’s fighting hole.

“Please,” Blaine cries. Please make it stop.

“That right boy!” Barry sneers, misunderstanding his plea. “You know you want it rea-.” He is interrupted by a loud crack, the wooden door splinter.

“I am going to kill you Barry!” Hunter shouts, the angriest Blaine has ever seen heard him.

“Fuck you Hunter!” Barry snarls, quickly getting up and running out of the room, pulling his pants up as he goes.

“Shit!” Hunter exclaims, having not been quick enough to chase the man down. “Oh pet!” He frowns, walking over and stroking Blaine’s hair. “Let’s sort ya out.” Blaine whines as Hunter leaves his side, worrying Hunter’s absence may result in the return of Barry. “It’s okay pet, I’ll be bac’ in a mo’,” Hunter slurs, still heavily intoxicated. “Come here,” he requests once he has released Blaine’s cuffs, arms open in invitation.

Blaine crawls into Hunter’s embrace, taking comfort in smell that has become familiar in the last week, relaxing into the rhythmic stroking of Hunter’s fingers through his hair. He cries freely, unconcerned for sub etiquette, not caring how he must look.

“Come on, we gonna retire for the night. Wait for me in my room, I be there soon.” Blaine nods, trying to hide his anxiety over the short walk. Hunter disappears, Blaine listening as he makes his way down the stairs. He quickly runs through to Hunter’s room, hoping he will feel more at ease in the private space opposed to the guest rooms available to anyone.

Hunter joins him only a few moments later with Sophia on tow. Blaine looks up from his position kneeling next to the bed.

“Good boy,” Hunter praises, walking up to Blaine and once again running his fingers through Blaine’s hair. He sits on the edge of the bed, still able to reach Blaine. Sophia comes and kneels next to him, putting a supportive hand on his lap.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Hunter starts, the seriousness of the situation having sobered him up slighty however still gesturing in an overdramatic way. “Unfortunately its fairly normal to guests to use any available sub at a party. Most people wont mind; I am in a minority of people who don’t like to share their pro’erty. Even though Barry is aware of that fact it appears it di’nt stop him tonight. Hows you feeling now?”

“Shaken up, Sir,” Blaine replies honestly.

“That’s good.” Blaine looks at Hunter in question. How could that be good? “These things do happen to subs, and eventually your training will help you deal with it - decentreertrate yourself almost, or whatever it’s called. It shouldn’t happen – I think using someone else’s sub should be counted as steeling! – however it does, so its only something we can try and prepare you for. However you are still new to this, so for it to have only shaken you a little is a good thing.” He pats Blaine’s back. “I want you to go to bed – both of you – and try to destress and relax. Before you go though, I am going to give you a little reward for how you dealt today.” Hunter gets off the bed and walks to one of his cupboards, opening a draw and pulling out a set of keys. He sorts through them as he returns to the bed.

“Stand up pet,” he commands. Blaine is rewarded with Hunter sliding a key into the lock of his cock cage. A gentle click and the lock is undone, Hunter carefully removing the pieces. “Good boy. Tomorrow you are returnin’ to the sub house; your time served with me will be over,” Hunter smiles almost sadly. “I hope you have learnt your lesson for disobeying, and picked up a few extra lessons and tips as well. Sophia, I don’t want you to wake me in the morning, I will fetch you.” He stands, slightly unbalanced on his feet. “I’m going to lock you both in your room, but I want to be clear it is not a punishment, it is for your safety. Barry, or anyone else for that matter, will be unable to get to you. You are both now off duty for the night.”

Hunter follows them to Sophia’s room, locking the door as promised.

“I’m sorry Blaine,” Sophia apologies.

“What for? It wasn’t your fault.” Sophia sits on the mattress, patting the space next to her in offering. Blaine joins her.

“I know. But I’m sorry you had to suffer it. I’m sorry you have been brought into this system. And I’m sorry I was so harsh on you. You are a lovely lad, and don’t deserve to be treated this way. You are too honest in yourself to be suspected to the life of subs.”

For the first night since being with Hunter, Blaine drifts off to sleep feeling like Sophia has become a friend.

Chapter Text

Blaine settles back into the rhythm of the sub house much quicker than he expected to. Jacob continuously attempts to apologise; however Blaine ignores him at every instance, which isn’t as hard as he expected. Most the time they are under the watch of the guards, not allowing Jacob an opportunity to talk to Blaine anyway, and in the few moments of privacy they are allowed in the evenings Blaine is always quick to wash before taking himself to his cage, ignoring everyone else. To begin with Nick kept trying to coax Blaine into a conversation with their little friendship group, but eventually he decided to give up.

Blaine is the perfect image of a submissive, subconsciously picking up on a lot of what is expected off a sub during his week with Hunter. He finds the lessons incredibly easy, as though they are being incredibly oversimplified. However despite feeling as though he has gone back several steps, the lessons covering things like the poses and expectations he had been quickly taught by Sophia, he struggles managing the day to day routine. He feels lost without the constant presence of Hunter, unsafe as though someone could jump on him at any moment and he wouldn’t have anyone to back him up. Logically, Blaine knows Hunter isn’t any better than the guards, but he can’t persuade his subconscious of the same thing. The guards don’t provide the strict expectations he was given by Hunter, he is constantly on edge that he will overstep an unknown line. Everyone in his group seems to still be relatively independent, many acting out and getting into trouble because they disagree with an instruction. Between his return to the sub house and the second auctions Blaine is the only one to have not been whipped or tasered. He was even asked to greet the new month’s intake of subs upon their arrival in the hopes of calming them while they were waiting to be taken to the room Blaine still has nightmares about, where he first started to understand what his new status would mostly consist of. Occasionally he had been told off, however they were over minor things which the guards obviously must have decided were honest mistakes down to his lack of experience, and were not serious enough to require physical punishment.

The morning of the September auctions started off almost exactly the same as last month. It’s the first time he has seen Slapper since being back at the house, but from the glare he receives there was no doubting she remembered him and Nick from last time. They all climb out of their individual cages - the entrance of two guards having become an unspoken signal - standing with their head lowered and eyes averted, right hand clasping onto the left wrist behind their backs; the pose to show they are awaiting orders.

Slapper inspects each sub in turn, making sure they are all presentable before offering them each a mint, the second guard following Slapper and watching what she does. He feels uncomfortable when Slapper’s attention is on him, hands running through his hair and over his body and manovering him in the way she wants before holding a mint in front of him to take. Blaine idly wonders if they will ever be given tooth brushes, or if their teeth are just expected to be fine without. For all Blaine knows and understands, maybe Doms’ like their subs to have a dirty breath, but he reasons it’s more likely a reward they are yet to earn. He is broken out of his thoughts by a ‘tut’. Without moving his head he raises his eyes, seeing Slapper inspecting the back of one of the less well behaved subs, still red from his flogging yesterday.

“Fucking idiots,” she mutters to herself, before turning to the second guard. “It should be common sense, but apparently not. You don’t punish a sub in a way that will leave marks on auction day, it looks bad on us.” She pulls an unmarked pot out of her back pocket, opening it and using her finger to spread the cream over the subs back. Blaine can’t quite tell what it is, however it appears to be slightly tinted in a way which starts to mask some of the redness. Maybe it is some kind of foundation? Once finished she continues her way round the remaining subs before speaking.

“Rules are the same as last time, but hopefully you will be better at following them this time.” Slapper addresses the subs. Blaine avoids her gaze but is sure he can feel her looking at him – and probably at nick too. “Don’t talk. Do as asked. Behave in general. There are twelve graduating subs and forty-one returned subs for sale, so it’s a relatively long one and means a lot of visitors. Doors are opening in about twenty minutes, so you just have enough time to get settled. You are dismissed.” With that everyone starts to orderly file out of the room, making their own way down to the auction rooms.

When they reach the room a guard meets them, directing them to the second ‘pen’. Knowing what is expected each sub kneels next to a pile of chains attached to the floor. Blaine ends up sandwiched between two subs he hasn’t bothered getting to know, Nick Tina and Brittany the opposite side of the pen. The guard makes his way round, connecting the end of the chain to their collars. Once finished the guard stands at the entrance to the pen.

The morning starts even slower than last month, no one looking at them. They are too far away from being sold to be worth too much interest, and a lot of people had already viewed them from last month. By the time they start getting the first visitors Blaine can tell the kneeling is becoming painful for some of the subs if their fidgeting is anything to go by.

When mid-day comes around, some of the older returned subs bringing them a drink and releasing them in batches to go to the toilet, Blaine’s cubical is yet to have a visitor take interest in any off them, most of them quickly considering the pen before moving on. Even though during the lunch break there are no guards watching them, Blaine still stays in the correct submissive kneeling position, knowing it is what is expected of a sub.

They are a lot busier in the afternoon, a lot of people not turning up until just before the free lunch to save hanging around all day. The visitors ask various subs to stand or kneel up, poking and prodding them under the premise of an inspection. However, after the fifth person manhandles his man hood Blaine is pretty sure they are just enjoying fondling with loads of dicks, although he still makes no attempt to ward off the sixth.

Blaine is the only sub who acts indifferent to every touch. Most of the subs around him flinch away from the numerous hands, their faces showing slight unease each time a Dom’s gaze is focused on them. When someone put their finger in Jacob’s mouth he decided to bite it, which earnt him a serve slap from the owner of the finger before a guard interrupted, asking the Dom what had happened before apologising on Jacobs behalf. He talks into his radio and shortly after another guard appears with a ring gag, fighting to get Jacob to put it on before, as expected, finally winning and strapping it on behind his head. Blaine watches as Jacob stares daggers into the guard’s back, before the original guard notices and punishes Jacob with a small electric shock, Jacob dropping his eyes to the floor once more.

Although Blaine does manage to keep an indifferent exterior, he has to keep reminding himself that he is safe here, there isn’t going to a reoccurrence of the Barry event as he has decided to call it. The guards here will put a stop to anything they disagree with, and if the guards don’t interfere then it must be fine for the Dom to continue whatever they are doing. If he behaves he will be safe.

He stops believing his mantra when he recognises the voice of his next visitor.

“This is the one I was talking about,” Barry points out to his companion. The second person, a boy not much older than himself, squats down into view, putting a finger under his chin to lift his head. Blaine keeps his eyes averted.

“It is very pretty, Father,” the boy comments as he stands back up. “Look at me,” he orders, Blaine lifting his head on command, his eyes only going as far as the boys’ chest.

“What do you think to the idea of having it like this all the time Sebastian, begging for you?” Barry envisions, hands on the boy’s shoulders.

“Wow,” the boy – Sebastian – exclaims, the mental image obviously affecting him.

“He will be up for sale a couple of months before your 18th birthday.” Doing the mental maths, Blaine decides this boy must be in the same school year as him, but one of the older ones in his year.

“You are going to get me a slave for my birthday!” Sebastian almost shouts, turning to Barry. Blaine assumes Barry must nod in agreement because the boy continues, “Everyone will be so jealous!”

“Don’t go rubbing it in this year though. You need to make a good impression at the new school. If you go around telling everyone that your Father is getting you a slave for your birthday you may make a few enemies. Plus, as many strings as I will be able to pull, I know there are several people at the office with their eyes on this one so it may not be possible. But I wanted to check you liked it before I spent loads of effort trying to arrange it.”

“Oh I defiantly like it,” Sebastian smirks. “Stand up,” he commands as Barry continues talking.

“I’m glad. I like it too. You do realise you will have to share it with me and your Mother.” Sebastian makes an objecting groan, but doesn’t argue. “You can take it to school with you but when you are home he will serve the whole house, not just you.”

“But you have Jackson!” Sebastian comments, turning his attention to his Dad.

“At the moment. But he is becoming embarrassingly old, so we will be putting him down within the year, and we can’t afford to buy this one and replace Jackson. It’s the conditions to have him. Plus, you are going to a boarding school, you won’t be home that often.” A shiver runs down Blaine’s spin at the realization an innocent sub will be killed just because he is getting old.

“Okay,” he reluctantly agrees, his attention back on Blaine. Sebastian runs his hands all over Blaine’s body, covering almost every inch. He turns Blaine round, moulding his ass and running his hands down his thighs. “Give me your leg,” he orders, Blaine lifting up his leg and trying incredibly hard to not fall over. Sebastian keeps pulling his leg about, seeming to be trying to make Blaine unbalanced. He is grateful he has good balance from the sport he used to do, because finally Sebastian gives in and drops his foot. He turns Blaine back round, lift his chin once again to look closely at Blaine’s face, making him feel like he is a piece of meat.

“Final thoughts?” Barry asks. Sebastian uses his thumb to pull on Blaine’s bottom lip, opening his mouth in the process. He sticks two finger in Blaine’s mouth, and Blaine has to fight to stay still and not react.

“I think he will be perfect,” Sebastian states.

With that the two leave, allowing Blaine to kneel once again. He takes a deep breath and tries to collect himself. It’s alright. He has eleven months until he is up for sale. He has eleven month to learn how to become completely submissive. He has eleven months for the Smythes to change their mind and decide against getting him. Plus, Hunter wants him. Hunter will have more power to pull strings to buy him. He will belong to Hunter, not Barry. 

He is broken out of his thoughts by another hand touching his head. He glances up to see it is Hunter, and instantly feels safer.

“Hey pet,” he strokes Blaine’s head. “Just wanted to check up on you. It’s been a busy last few weeks!” Blaine almost sighs into the ministrations, but remembers that he is surrounded by the other subs in his group, managing to catch and stop himself at the last moment. Hunter chuckles, seeming to know what Blaine was thinking. “Good boy. I’ve been hearing only good things about you, I’m proud of you pet. How have you settled back into the rhythm?” Knowing it’s not a rhetorical question Blaine thinks carefully about his answer.

“I’ve managed Master, but it has been hard.”

“How so?” Hunter questions, sounding as though he is actually interested in the answer.

“It’s different Master. I feel a bit lost,” Blaine responds honestly. “And I miss you,” he adds in almost a whisper, hoping the other subs around him won’t have heard. Hunter chuckles.

“I’ve missed getting to look at you every day too,” Hunter smiles. “I’ve got an auction to run, but I wanted to check on you first. Keep up the good behaviour pet,” he says before leaving.

The rest of the auction day passes with ease, even when they were visited by the angry and verging on abusive visitors who had lost at the auction, Blaine still basking in the praise from his Master.

Chapter Text

The following day they are greeted by Hunter when they arrive at the day’s classroom, having been told the room number by the guard who unlocked the cell a few moments earlier. They all file in and take their positions at one on the bench like tables, facing the projector at the front of the room. Blaine can tell they are in store for another PowerPoint presentation. Hunter starts talking once everyone is kneeled.

“I would like to congratulate you all on surviving your first month relatively unharmed,” his eyes lingering on the boy with the whip marks from yesterday. “Today is the start of your next stage of training. You have gone through all the introductory sessions, and you will now be expected to act appropriately to your status. No more leeway because you are ‘new’. You are no longer the newbies to the house. We are aware that you will most likely still make mistakes unintentionally, however we will not be taking it into account when deciding on punishments. It is the best way to prepare you for your future.

“From now on, you will also be taking lessons that cover basic handyman skills and repairs. Although most people will hire a professional for large jobs, it is your job to have a basic understanding of repairs so you are able to help your Master run the household. You will attend lessons on plumbing, electric repairs, cooking, and decorating, as well as one or two additional lessons to boost your knowledge on cleaning, managing bills and paperwork, gardening and other things of the like. All of which will increase your ability to serve your Master or Mistress. You are more than just a toy for your Master’s enjoyment. You are there to serve their every need, whatever that may be. You are your Master’s slave.”

Blaine inwardly chuckles at that. How many times do they need to be reminded that they are a slave? He might start keeping count. He doesn’t need to be constantly reminded, he is pretty sure he understands the idea. However it is reassuring it sounds as though he won’t just be being fucked or standing pretty all the time; that he will get a break and be able to be useful. And it’s also good to realize he isn’t expected to just know how to do everything straight away, and he will be taught how to – hopefully – complete the tasks safely and properly.

“You are also lucky enough to be the third intake month to be allowed to pick a hobby to study,” Hunter continues, changing onto yet another slide. “This is a new stage we are adding in the hope that having an additional luxury skill in your repertoire will also increase your value, whilst showing you some benefits to your new life.

“Because it is still in its trial period, there are not many of these societies set up. Therefore I want you to think carefully over your break and I want to hear what hobby you wish to take up by the end of the day. If it is already set up from the last two months you will be allowed to join straight away. If it is a new idea it will be noted and taken to the board for consideration.

“You all have the power to influence the future of training and the subs following in your footsteps. I hope you realize how lucky you all are, and take it very seriously. These hobbies are rewards, and if you do not take your chosen trade seriously or act out, there will be the same repercussions as with any of the standard lessons. Understood?” There is a collective nod. Everyone excited by the prospect of being given back a little control over their lives for a short amount of time. “You will stop practicing your chosen additional skill in eight months time. This is to allow you to solely focus on your last few lessons, ensuring by the time you are put up for auction you are the high standard submissive we expect off you.”

They remain in the room for another hour or so, a guard having replaced Hunter as the ‘teacher’, going over the sort of things they will be covering and how they are expected to use the knowledge they gain.


 

 

After collecting lunch – some sort of porridge mixed with the supplements that are sometimes added to their food – Blaine goes to sit with Nick and the two girls. Since being back at the house it is the first time he hasn’t sat on his own at lunch, trying to avoid everyone. Nick’s face seems to almost light up when he realizes Blaine has decided to sit with them, however Blaine is thankful that he doesn’t mention it.

Blaine doesn’t talk to any of the others, instead keeping his head down while he slowly eats his meal. He listens to the others quietly brainstorming ideas for what they could choose, silencing every time a guard passes close enough to be within hearing range of them.

“What about computer programming?” Nick asks, Blaine having lost count how many suggestions he had come up with so far.

“As if they would allow that!” Tina argues. “No way would they allow us the opportunity to come up with an escape.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t do that.” Without looking up, Blaine knows the girls will be looking at him with disbelieving ‘as if’ expressions. “Okay, maybe I would.”

“I think I would enjoy drawing,” Britt comments dismissively. “Or doing puzzles.”

“Why would they let you do puzzles? That’s not a skill they could market,” Nick huffs.

“Maybe an old lady will want me to help her solve her puzzles!” Reasons Britt.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve narrowed it down to two things now,” Tina concludes. “I either want to sing, or design and make clothes.”

“I miss singing. But I don’t want them to be able to take something I enjoy and use it as another way to control me,” hissed Nick, his voice rising slightly, unknowing catching the attention of a guard. “That’s all they are doing this for, don’t be so naive to think otherwise! They are giving us an illusion of a choice, only to find a way to throw it back in our faces later. They wouldn’t do it to be nice to us, so what other reason could it be? I don’t believe the bullshit Mr. Boss spat out at us. It’s just another way to try and manipulate us into doing what they-”

“It’s their way of training us to keep us safe in the world,” Blaine whispers, so quiet he is surprised Nick heard him and stopped his rant. Before Blaine can explain further, or Nick can argue back, they all notice the presence of someone else.

“You have a lot to say for yourself,” a guard sneers, roughly grabbing Nick’s hair and pulling his head down, exposing the numbers of his brand. “9103,” he says, before letting go of Nick’s hair to drag him up by the collar. “Come with me,” he orders as though Nick has a chance to disobey.

Britt, Tina and Blaine all remain silent for the rest of their lunch break.

Chapter Text

“Right, clap, bounce, sweep the floor, rainbow, and turn. No no no no no! You are doing it all wrong! It’s simple!” Rachel ordered, getting frustrated. Three weeks into rehearsals the group had yet to learn the dance routine to their new song, and everyone was starting to become slightly short-tempered, causing several arguments that the supervising guards would have to break up, and resulting in more than a few punishments for individuals and the whole group. It took a week before everyone was allowed to start their selected hobbies. Blaine and Brittany had chosen singing while Tina had opted to go with fashion.

He and Brittany were not the only people of their month to decide on singing. One of the members of the choir was a girl from Blaine’s group who he hadn’t spoken to before. In the couple of weeks that they had been singing, Brittany had quickly become friends with her – apparently, the girl’s name was Lucy – as well as starting to get to know the older submissives of the group.

Blaine kept mostly to himself, only talking when his opinion was needed and letting Brittany make up for his lack of enthusiasm. He was also very reserved while performing, unsure how he should behave in accordance to his status. The group was always overseen by at least two guards (although rarely more), however Blaine couldn’t really work out why they were there. They seemed to rarely step in, leaving them mostly to their own devices so long as they were focused on some form of singing and dancing, or the planning of a song.

Blaine found this sudden freedom from authority unsettling. It went against his previous expectations of how a sub was ought to behave. However, none of the other subs seemed be affected by the lack of intervention. Maybe his time with Hunter taught him some things that everyone else was yet to learn? Blaine catches himself, realizing it’s not his place to be speculating, so he discards the thought as quickly as it came.

He concludes that the choir must be their chance to relax and let off a bit of steam, where a few non-submissive traits are allowed, however he struggles to work out how. The main reason the guards appeared to be supervising them was to step in when the heated discussions between the group became too loud to be appropriate of their status as subs, and to ensure they were sticking to their strict list of allowed songs. Despite being fairly confident in his understanding of what was and wasn’t allowed, Blaine kept mostly quiet in attempt to go unnoticed by the guards, and tried to position himself out of the way during a routine.

As Brittany and Rachel start up yet another discussion on how to simplify the dance moves so all eleven members of the group could manage, Blaine’s eyes drift to the back wall where Nick is tied up. Along with a beating, another part of his punishment was being banned from taking part in the hobby sessions. However, to make it worse for Nick, he was forced to watch Blaine practice with the show choir; The Song Birds. Blaine finds it kind of ironic that he went from performing for the Warblers, a bird recognised by its elegant song voice, to becoming a bird that makes a noise. It almost mirrors his personal transition from an elite boarding school to, well, whatever this is now.

Their choir session is at the end of the day, and Blaine is grateful for that for two reasons. First, what he thought would just be a simple group of people standing and singing, turned out to be a full show choir workout, leaving him sweating and exhausted after each session. It didn’t help that the self-elected leader, Rachel, was mentally tiring to put up with as well. She was probably the most common cause for one of the guards to step in. They regularly they had to remind Rachel that although it is accepted that she is in charge, she still needs to remember her training and not be too bossy. However, Blaine was yet to see the girl get punished for her behavior, seeming they truly meant for the activity to be more of a down-time for them. The second reason he is glad the choir is at the end of the day is, that despite all the downfalls, he really enjoys it. It gave him something to look forwards to during the morning lessons. No matter what they day threw at him, he would have The Song Birds later on.

Overall he used these daily sessions as his opportunity to forget about everything important for an hour, simply focusing on the music.

Today’s session had been intense. They had finally finished learning the lyrics to Baby, I’m yours, swapping the word Baby for Master at Hunter’s request, and were now solely focusing on the choreography. They needed to perfect the routine within about a week, having been told they would perform to open the auctions.

Brittany naturally took the lead in the dance, unquestionably being the best dancer of the group. Blaine had been really impressed while watching her do the moves to the first bit of the song, until he realized that he was supposed to replicate them. Her moves were on the same level to that of a professional dancer, a level which the simple swaying steps of the Warbler’s routines had not prepared him for.

By the end of the session, Brittany was still the only one able to do the majority of the dance moves. But they had time to practice and learn.

“Thank you Brittany, for offering your help with dancing,” Rachel says, starting her speech that signifies the end of practice. “However, it is clear this little club isn’t quite up to our level in dancing.” Blaine fights back a scoff, knowing Rachel probably struggled most out of the group. Blaine quickly learnt that the choir’s lead singer didn’t like to be overshadowed by anybody, and he has no idea how she has managed to keep her attitude throughout her three months at the house. “I want you to make a simplified version, so our less talented members can keep up.” Blaine hears movement from near the door; one of the guards standing up in warning. Rachel must recognize the threat as well, as she drops her head, “Sorry, Sir. I mean, if the routine is easier it will be fairer for everyone and will make the groups’ performance look better, and in turn be a successful asset of the OSO,” she tries to backpedal slightly. “Tomorrow we will go over the lyrics once more before continuing trying to learn the dance to an acceptable standard. Dismissed.”

Blaine and the rest of the group take up the standard kneeling position, waiting for their true dismissal. Although Rachel’s speech always signifies the end of the rehearsal, they aren’t truly dismissed until the guards say so. Therefore, they always end up waiting a few minutes in silence until they are allowed to leave.

Once the guards have moved from their posts and opened the door, everyone gets up and makes their way to leave, most of them hurriedly going back to their rooms in search of a drink from the sinks in the washroom. Blaine and Brittany always try to hang back a little and walk as slow as they can, waiting for Nick to catch them up after being released.

During sessions, Nick is always restrained to the wall in what they have been taught is the standard sub restraint for when a Master wants to leave a sub for any length of time. The sub’s wrist cuffs are linked together behind their backs, and a chain is attached between the sub’s collar and some form of latch or hook on the wall. In the Sub House every room has one or more bolts around the room at head height, specifically for this purpose, but during lessons it was explained how more often than not anything which a chain can be hooked and locked onto could be used as a substitute.

“Hey guys,” he greets when he catches up with Brittany and Blaine walking back to their cell.

“Hello Nick,” Blaine responds politely as Brittany gives him an awkward half hug while walking. Blaine remains silent on the rest of the walk back to their cell, Nick and Brittany talking animatedly about the rehearsal.

They are the first people to arrive. Blaine heads straight through to the washroom, going to the sink and gulping down water from the slightly too warm cold tap. Regretting how quickly he drunk the water he pauses for a moment, hands braced on either side of the sink as he takes a deep breath to collect himself. He waits for his stomach to settle before stepping under the shower and letting the cold water cascade over his hair and down his back.

He was starting to readjust to the expectations of the house once more. Whenever he was in the presence of a guard or a visiting Dom, he would always make sure he was on his best behavior, however since joining the choir he had started to allow himself to enjoy things again when in a less formal situation. Singing, even just as a harmonizing background voice, began to remind him of his old self, things that he used to enjoy and take part in because he wanted to, not just because he was expected to by his Master.

This in turn brought back part of his old personality. He still kept mostly to himself, but rather than isolating him from everyone else he stopped curling up in his cage the moment he got back to his cell, instead he sat with Nick and the two girls. Tina and Nick tried to ask lots of questions the first day he made this change. They wanted to know why he had been avoiding them, what had happened while with Hunter, why he was acting so differently. The questions caught him unaware, stunning him into silence and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He was about ready to bolt back to his cage and lock himself away from everyone’s questions. However before he could bolt, Brittany decided to sit sideways in his lap, throwing an arm around Blaine’s back before loudly demanding the other two to back off and just be grateful Blaine decided to sit with them again. Blaine spent the remainder of that evening with his head tucked into Brittany’s shoulder in shame, trying to hide from everyone and planning to go back to his old routine of hiding in his cage the following evening. However, the following day Brittany didn’t allow it, instead holding his hand on the walk back to their cell and once again sitting in his lap.

After that first evening, no one interrogated him about his time away, which Blaine was immensely grateful for. He wasn’t yet ready to share his experience, albeit not all bad. Although they would ask him direct questions on whatever topic they were talking about, they never pushed Blaine to elaborate any more than the simple few-word answers he gave. As he started to become slightly more relaxed, realizing that by being locked in their cell the guards where essentially saying ‘you are now off duty for the day’, he slowly started adding more to his answers, occasionally making a comment without having been asked directly for his view. Nick seemed pleased with Blaine’s improvement, but was wise enough not to mention anything.


 

In the third week of their new classes, Hunter pulls him out of one of their electrician lessons.

“Hey pet,” Hunter greets as he closes the door on the classroom, leading Blaine down the corridor. “I’ve been hearing good things about you. You’re making me proud,” he says, rustling Blaine’s curls causing him to relax slightly. “I’ve got a special job for you again. I have some people over today who want to meet you again, and I know you are going to be on your best behavior and do me and the OSO proud, just like the good boy you are.”

“Yes Master,” Blaine says in an almost whisper.

“That’s my good boy. I want you to answer all of their questions, letting them know how well the training has been going for you.” Blaine nods in reply, receiving another head scratch in reward.

Blaine follows Hunter the rest of the way in silence, half a step behind, pausing as Hunter opens the door to his office; their apparent destination. As Blaine walks in, he quickly flicks his eyes up to survey the room before lowering them again. Hunter moves to take his seat behind the desk, facing four other people all in suits. Blaine realizes these people are the same as those at the meeting he attended while being Hunter’s temporary sub, recognizing a few of their builds and the way they each hold themselves. He is grateful to discover that none of them appear to be Barry. He waits for a signal to tell him where to go, and with a quick flick of Hunter’s hand Blaine takes himself to kneel in the corner he is starting to consider his.

Hunter starts up the conversation – or maybe continues it from earlier – however Blaine isn’t listening to what is being said. He keeps half an ear out for anything that sounds like he is being called, catching a few words and phrases such as “fast track” and “individual training schemes”, but nothing that needs his attention.

Instead he focuses on catching up what he may be missing from his electrician lesson. They had covered a lot of information in very little time, and Blaine can’t help but feel like he is completely underinformed on the subject. Missing the next however long for Hunter’s meeting is not going to help his position and he will likely be playing catch up for weeks. Although Blaine had initially thought they would be covering basic things like changing a lightbulb, he didn’t realize how in depth the lessons would be, also covering how to put in all the electrics running to the lightbulb. His decorating lessons then covered how to plaster the wall and hide the new cabling. Most of the lessons were purely theory, but they occasionally got to work as a group with a mock set up. Today was one of the days where they were allowed to handle the equipment, something Blaine couldn’t catch up on missing. He hopes this thing with Hunter doesn’t take long so he can get back to the lesson, despite the voice in his head telling him that his Master wants him where he is, and therefore should not be wishing to be doing something else.

His internal battle is interrupted by an order to stand.

“As you can see, he has already learnt how to behave in an environment like this before he has been told,” Hunter points out.

“But there is no way of knowing! He could have been listening and is going to run off and gossip to the others,” one of the visitors’ counters.

“Pet, why are you here?” Hunter asks. Blaine freezes. Even while looking at the floor he can feel the five pairs of eyes glaring down on him.

“Because you required me to be here,” he replies in a way he hopes will get him off the hook. Blaine doesn’t have a clue why Hunter collected him, he just does as his Master asks.

“But why did I want you here, pet?” Hunter pushes.

“I... I... I don’t know Master,” he stutters in reply, ashamed to admit it.

“See,” Hunter beams. “Told you so.”

“Ok, I think I understand. But you know you haven’t got a good enough case to take to the board again, don’t you?” One of the men responds.

“A research team is on it, which is already a huge step. That wouldn’t be happening if they didn’t think it was possible. I suggest we don’t worry about putting a case together – the people on research should do that. I say we start planning exactly what will happen,” another voice counters.

“That’s why I asked you all here,” Hunter agrees. “Sit, pet,” he orders Blaine before continuing to address the group. “Although I know what I think should happen, I need other people’s opinion. You all heard my suggestions at the meeting…” Hunter continues talking, but Blaine zones out once again, knowing it doesn’t involve him.

Occasionally they do ask Blaine direct questions, which he tries his best to respond to correctly but unbiasedly, but for the most part he is ignored. He truly wonders why Hunter really needed him there, but knows it’s not his place to question, so he tries hard to ignore the part of his brain that’s asking.


 

Finally, the group start chatting more about idle topics rather than discussing the future of submissive training. Blaine is not dismissed when Hunter sees out the four visitors, so he remains in position in his corner waiting for Hunter’s return.

“You were a very good boy,” Hunter praises as he opens the door. “Come.” Blaine follows Hunter presumably back to either a classroom or his cell.

However, after a few minutes he is led into a room he hasn’t seen before, containing a couple armchairs. Hunter flops down into one of the chairs, pointing at his feet to indicate for Blaine to kneel there. Once Blaine has kneeled, Hunter begins stroking his hand through Blaine’s curls.

“How have you been since I last asked?” He asks.

“Good, Master,” Blaine responds, feeling perplexed by the question yet comforted by Hunter’s ministrations. It unbalances Blaine’s emotions.

“How have you been finding your hobby? I notice you chose signing?”

“It’s good, Master,” he replies robotically, hoping Hunter doesn’t notice his slight unease.

“Pet, look at me.” Hunter waits for Blaine to slowly raise his eyes. “Tell me honestly, how is it? And that’s an order.” Blaine nods before dropping his head again, trying to find the courage to speak his mind.

“I do enjoy it, however the song list we have is very limited, and not songs many of us have heard before which makes it very hard to learn-“ He stops suddenly, not wanting to say his next thought for risking angering Hunter. Unfortunately, Hunter notices his relatively sudden stop.

“Continue slut.” Blaine takes a deep breath in preparation. Hunter brings his hand down to stroke Blaine’s cheek, gently lifting his head once again, although Blaine still keeps his eye diverted. “I can’t promise there will be no repercussions for what you say, however, as a submissive, you are expected to be honest and follow orders. I’m slightly disappointing I’m having to remind you…” he trails off, leaving the comment open ended.

“All the songs are about belonging to someone. Eternal Flame. Here for you. Count on me. I get it, I really do. You want the songs to tempt other Doms. But they aren’t the best of songs.”

“What are you trying to say, slut?” Hunter growls. Blaine’s palms start sweating. He tries to subtly dry them on his legs, however the lack of material covering him means it doesn’t help. He knows he shouldn’t have brought this up, but he also knows there is no way he can back out.

“I think… I think it would showcase the group’s talent more if we had different songs. Like, we could do remixes of the top forty, things like that.” He starts picking at imaginary lint from under his fingernails.

“And why should I allow that?” Hunter questions, seeming a little more open to the idea than before.

“Because isn’t the purpose of having hobbies to try and increase our value? Make each submissive more unique. If we sing songs we know, we can sing better, which showcases our talent and increases our worth.” Blaine holds his breath for Hunter’s response.

“There is something about you,” he mutters before continuing louder, “If you can come up with a list of songs you would like to do, tell me and I will give you a yes or no.”

“Thank you, Master,” Blaine lets out an involuntary sigh, holding himself straighter. Hunter considers him for a moment.

“That’s not all you wanted to ask, was it pet?”

“No, Master. However I know it’s not my place to mention-“ Hunter roughly grabs at Blaine’s chin, pulling his head up.

“You are being a little stupid today pet, you know that right. Tell me,” he commands.

“I really wish Nick could take part,” he rushes, almost stumbling over his words.

“Who’s Nick?”

“One of my friends.”

“Slut, don’t play naive. What’s his ID?” Blaine rakes his brain in panic. He knows he has heard Nick’s number, but can’t for the life of him remember what it was. It still seems strange to him to refer to a human as a number rather than a name, and he can’t quite seem to manage.

“I think he’s 9013. Or maybe 9102. Something like that, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh, 9103. I know who you mean,” Hunter comments after a brief pause. “Why do you say that?”

“He was my friend before being labeled a sub. We were both in our school’s show choir team, and have always sung together. It’s just really strange to see him left out. I’m sorry Master.” Blaine drops his eyes as far as he can, seeing as Hunter still has a hold of his head

“What are you sorry for?” Hunter asks, glaring down at Blaine in confusion.

“It’s not my place to say something like that.”

“Wrong. It’s your place to do as you are told. I told you to tell me how things were going and you told me, even if you felt you shouldn’t. But your job isn’t to think, it’s to do. I will look through 9103’s file and see what I can do for you. But don’t tell anyone I have a soft spot for you!” He jokes. “Anything else? How’s training been going?”

“It’s been hard. Most the submissive lessons have been easy, but the new lessons I struggle with. If a Dom was to give me a light and tell me to fix it, I don’t think I would be able to. Of course, I would try! But it would take me a while and possibly not be done correctly or safely.”

“Why not?” Hunter asks, curious.

“I get the theory, but I learnt from when my father made us build a car together that no matter how much I read about how to do something, I couldn’t until I practiced a few times.”

“That’s understandable. I can’t do anything about it I’m afraid. However, rest assured I won’t expect you to do things like that once you’re mine. You’re too pretty to have cooped up at home all day,” he allures. “Anyway. Would more time practicing help solve that?”

“Possibly for me Master, but I don’t really know about the others.”

“Thank you for being honest Blaine.” Blaine looks up gingerly to see Hunter smiling down at him. Blaine gives a small smile back. “I will let you get back to your group. Leave everything with me and I will see what can be done, but don’t tell the others you’ve spoken to me.” Hunter pauses to check the time on his phone. “Everyone will be done for the day, so head back to your cell.”

Blaine slightly gets up and leaves, quietly shutting the door behind him while thinking about Hunter’s phone.

He hadn’t really missed having his own phone until now. Sure, he misses a lot of things, but he hasn’t had the time to think about them. If he had his phone he would know what the time was. He would be able to set an alarm rather than being rudely awoken every morning. He would be able to message his parents one last time to let them know he was doing ok.

Blaine was so deep in thought he didn’t spot Nick until he literally jumped out at him.

“Shit!” He exclaims, trying to slow his heartrate. “Nick, hey. Hang on, what are you doing here?” He asks, confused what would cause Nick to be in this corridor. It’s not a route between any of their usual locations.

“I was looking for you,” Nick responds with a frown.

“Well, you found me,” Blaine tries to brush off any further questions, continuing walking in the direction of their cell.

“Where are you going?” Nick calls half a step behind.

“Back to our cell? It’s almost lock down time,” he responds, speeding up his walk so Nick almost has to run to keep up.

“Blaine! Slow down! Please!” Blaine abruptly stops, causing Nick to run into him. “Thanks, I guess,” he stutters.

“What do you want, Nick?”

“I don’t know what crawled up your backside and died!” Blaine turns around and continues walking. “I heard your conversation with asshole-mc-douche back there!” Blaine stops suddenly again, turning to look at Nick who had not followed him this time.

“Good for you. But it’s about time you learn to do as you’re told. Plus, it’s Master, not asshole-mc-douche-face.”

“I didn’t say face. But anyway, that’s not the point,” he says in a rush, hands gesturing dismissively. “Blaine, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s not good for you! You’ve been acting so weird since you’ve been back and I don’t know how to help anymore. First I thought ‘just give him time, it’s probably been a rough week for him’. But that was a month ago Blaine! When you first came and sat with us I thought the old Blaine was coming back. But it doesn’t appear he has. You’re all submissive. The moment you are out of the cell your head goes down and you don’t say boo to a goose. Even though you seem to be a bit better when we are on our own, you still have this dead look in your eyes, and I don’t know how to help!

“You were my best friend, Blaine. But this,” Nick gestures to Blaine, “This isn’t you. And I want my friend back. So please, help me. Tell me what you need me to do!”

“You really don’t get it, do you Nick?” Blaine sighs. “Yes, I’m all submissive. You wanna know why? It’s because I am a fucking submissive!” He mimes his head exploding. “It’s who I am. Want to know why I won’t say boo to a goose? It’s because it’s not my position to do so. My job is to keep my head down and behave. And, breaking news, it’s your job too! You are a sub. You are not Nick, you are 9103. I’m not Blaine anymore, I’m 5226. And you would do well to remember that, or you are going to get yourself in so much more trouble. Yes, I may be becoming Master’s lap dog, but if that’s what it takes to stay safe, then that’s what it takes. I know of at least two people planning to buy me when we go up for auction, probably more. No way are Jeff and Trent going to raise the money needed for both of us. They may get enough for you on your own, but no way would they be able to afford me. So yes, I may be sucking up to Master, but he’s better than Barry. Master has a soft spot for me, and if using that helps others – like you – then so be it.”

“It’s not right Blaine!”

“It’s not right, but it’s okay,” he says in defeat before walking off, leaving Nick frozen in the corridor and plotting his next move

Chapter Text

After the outburst, Nick and Blaine didn’t speak to each other. Nick was convinced Blaine had been brainwashed, and Blaine was convinced Nick was out of order, and no interference between Tina and Brittany could resolve it.

And it isn’t only Nick who’s been causing Blaine issues. Jacob had also started reaching out to Blaine, trying to apologize for getting Blaine in trouble.

“Blaine, please, just listen to me. That’s all I’m asking,” Jacob approaches one evening while waiting for lights out. Blaine doesn’t turn over in his cage to look at Jacob, however doesn’t instantly send him away. Jacob takes this as an indication to continue. “I honestly didn’t mean for that to happen. I thought it might cheer you up, give you some pleasure. You need to know how sorry I am. I really want to make it up to you, but I don’t know how. I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me, but please tell me what I need to do for you to forgive me. I can’t live with this guilt.”

“You’ve been punished by Master. Therefore you have been forgiven,” Blaine replies in a robotic monotone. It was silent for a moment, Jacob mulling over the words Blaine spoke so easily. He carefully considers his response.

“I have been forgiven by the OSO. But I haven’t been forgiven by you. I would do anything to take it back-“

“You can’t take it back!” Blaine interrupts in a shout, the rest of the room falls silent. He takes a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Things happen, they can’t be undone. And I’m not sure I would want it to be undone. I learnt a valuable lesson while I was with Mas-.”

“What lesson!? How to be cold to all your friends?” Jacob accuses.

“I’ve learnt my place! And I’m waiting for everyone else to as well.” Jacob doesn’t reply, realizing that nothing he says at this moment will get through to Blaine.

“Okay. Well, how can I move forwards? Without you ignoring me,” he adds before Blaine can interrupt.

“I don’t know Jacob, I don’t know,” Blaine responds honestly.

“Please, I beg of you. If you work out how, let me know.” With that, Jacob leaves him alone. 


 

The following day they all make their way to the main hall, awaiting the arrival of the October subs. Blaine can’t really remember last month’s assembly, having still been in his zoned-out state after his time with Hunter, and he has blocked the memory of his arrival assembly from his mind.

Blaine watches the new subs all being led in, most of them looking scared; one or two looking murderous. He feels a touch of sadness, knowing what they are about to be subjected to in the next few months, although he tries not to dwell on it too much since there is nothing he can do to help.

Hunter gives some speech on how privileged they all should feel, being part of what keeps the balance in society. How they should be pleased they were born in the USA, meaning they attend the world’s leading submissive house. How he knows it will help them reach their potential and enable society to continue advancing at its rapid pace. Blaine is glad he didn’t listen to most of the speech on his arrival at the house.

Eventually Hunter’s speech finally draws to a close, Blaine having heard none of it. He knew he should have been listening, as there were possibly things said that related to him, however majority of what was said wasn’t for him. And if it was, well, chances are one of the others in his group was paying attention. Blaine is starting to get into the habit of zoning out when the topic of conversation is not directed at him, and he didn’t feel in the mood today to force himself to break the habit on a one off.  

The guards start to dismiss each month’s intake of subs one at a time, starting from the oldest. Eventually Blaine stands at the dismissal of his group, when he hears Jacob speak up a few people behind him.

“Blaine,” he calls at stage whisper volume. Blaine doesn’t acknowledge him, continuing facing straight ahead and following the line out of the hall. “Have you had any thought yet on what I can do? You said you would think, so have you?” Blaine is debating between snapping at Jacob - reminding him it’s only been a day since he last asked – and completely ignoring him – they don’t have permission to talk and are in the hall in front of the new subs, so should be setting an example – when the discussion is taken out of his hands by the interruption of a guard.

“Knees,” the woman shouts as she walks over, much louder than needed. Jacob appears to choose to ignore the guard in favor of pushing past the few subs in front of him to reach Blaine, trying to get his attention by pulling on his shoulder. The guard pulls out her taser gun as she approaches them, using it against Jacob and causing him to involuntarily carry out her order, falling to his knees. Blaine makes a move to carry on walking until he feels the guard grip onto his wrist. He stops, turning towards the guard with his eyes downcast.

“Knees,” she points at Blaine as he carries out the order, already knowing the command was directed at him. “Both of you wait here in silence.” The guard disappears shortly, not far enough to have left the room, although Blaine didn’t see so couldn’t have known for sure.

“Please Blaine,” Jacob whispers. “Look, I’m really sorry. I’ve thought of a few idea’s to prove to you I’m sorry-“ Blaine interrupts him.

“Your first step can be to obey orders, including waiting here in silence!” Blaine whispers, trying to hint to Jacob that he needs to shut up.

“That order for silence was directed to both of you,” the guard scolds, having made her reappearance without Blaine knowing. She bends down slightly, putting the taser against Blaine’s back. He feels the sudden shock, his muscles all tensing in pain until finally, after what feels like hours but in reality was only a few seconds, the pain stops and his muscles relax, making him fight to maintain the position on his knees. It’s the first time he has been shocked that severely, and he vows never to cause that punishment again. He is angry at himself for having been bad, a punishment he is truly at fault for. ‘I know better than that. I can’t disappoint Hunter, he has so much faith in me and I need to prove he is right!’ he tells himself.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” Blaine apologises sincerely.

“What are you sorry for?” She questions suspiciously.

“For not obeying orders and talking out of turn.”

“Good boy. I can kind of see why Hunter’s put dibs on you; not many subs have your manners so early on in training. There is hope for you yet.” The guard responds. “Ok then. 5226, I’m going to let you go for now. Your group has been taken to room 102, head straight there now. Now 8262. You however, will be coming with me for…” Blaine doesn’t hear the rest of the sentence, having already made his exit.

He arrives at the room moments before the guard who is taking the session.

“You are now third years,” the guard starts once everyone is settled. It’s one Blaine hasn’t seen before, obviously a new employee. “I’ve been told you are possibly one of the best-behaved groups, and your Master expects you to set a good example to the newbs. You are now entering the mainstream schooling of the house, with a new timetable which will stay relatively the same for the next four months. Twice a week you will have refresher sessions, going over everything you have learnt so far to make sure you don’t forget. These will be in room 216 first on Thursday and after food on Saturday. Your selected program will be running every day once you have finished your day’s final session. You have submissive procedure first thing in room 128 on Mondays, 283 on Tuesdays, 122 on Wednesdays, 147 on Sundays and after lunch in room Z on Thursdays. Monday after food and all day Friday you have handyman sessions. The rooms may vary but always meet in room 58. Sunday morning you will be starting sex sessions in rooms P and Q – head to P first and then you will be directed from there. You must turn up completely clean. Remaining times will be miscellaneous sessions, meet in room 72.” Blaine tries to commit it all to memory, knowing they won’t be told again and not able to rely on any of the others to remember. “The exception to this is this Sunday-“ The guard is interrupted by a loud noise outside, followed by his radio going off. Blaine can’t hear what is being said over the radio due to a poor signal, but it is apparent there is shouting at the other end of the line.

“Whoever is supervising 5226 can you send him to Hunter’s office?” Blaine manages to make out. The guard, who Blaine has decided to nickname Soldier given his regimented way of listing information, looks at the group.

“Which group is he in?”

“Fuck if I know!” The voice at the end of the radio responds. Blaine suspects it may be Slapper, but can’t quite make it out for certain. “One of the newer groups I think.”

“Fuck sake, why can’t people do their jobs!” Soldier mutters under his breath, putting the radio back on his jacket before addressing the room. “Is 5226 in here?”

“That’s me, Sir.” Blaine responds quietly, not quite sure how he is supposed to act in this situation. Soldier heads over to him, checking his tattoo.

“So it is,” he starts, almost in disbelief. He picks up the radio again. “Tango calling to any patrol. Patrol come in.” After a brief moment of static someone answers.

“This is patrol.”

“Can someone please come escort 5226 to Hunter? I’m in room 102.”

“Wha-? Oh, you the new guy?” She interrupts herself.

“Yes?” Soldier questions warily.

“Oh. That one’s fine to go on his own. We got a note about him recently; basically if you see him about leave him be, and if he asks for Hunter let him go find him.”

“Why?”

“Little bitty Hunt’s got a sweet spot. I don’t really know, but I can explain over break. Just send him down ASAP. Over and out.”

“Oh,” Soldier says to no one in particular before turning to Blaine. “I take it you know the way then do you?” Blaine nods once. “Well, off you go then.” Blaine obediently leaves, noticing a few surprised and suspicious glances from some of the other subs. He tries to forget about their knowledge of Hunter’s apparent favouritism, instead counting the corridors to mark his way to Hunter. 


 

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he arrived, but a stressed-out Hunter, frantically riffling through stacks of paper, was not it. Blaine takes a second to look around at all the paper scattered on Hunters desk, noticing a few that have escaped onto the floor. He wonders if he should help pick them up, but doesn’t know if Hunter would appreciate Blaine interfering when he hasn’t been told to do anything but arrive at Hunter’s office. He is saved from his deliberation when he is noticed by Hunter.

“Hey pet,” Hunter smiles, pausing in his frenzy to perch on the edge of the desk facing Blaine. “Can you please explain to me what happened in the assembly?” Hunter asks suspiciously. Blaine panics slightly. It’s the first time he has been tasered and he is afraid of the punishment Hunter may give. Hunter seems to quickly notice Blaine’s panic and tries to calm him slightly, “I’m not mad, per se, but I need to know what you think happened before I can decide how to correct any misbehaviour.” Blaine calms slightly at his words.

“Jacob – I uh, don’t know his number I’m afraid-“

“8263?“ Hunter helpfully interrupts.

“Possibly, 8263. He wanted to know what he needed to do for me to forgive him, Master.”

“Start at the beginning, Slut,” Hunter warns. “Your name was mentioned lots while I spoke to him. I have yet to decide if you deserve to join him at the whipping post for punishment.” That shocks Blaine, throwing him slightly. Although he assumed Jacob would have been punished, it’s still slightly shocking hearing it directly from Hunter. “What you say here will influence any further action for both you and him.”

“He felt bad about getting me in trouble, and wanted to know what he needed to do for me to forgive him. I told him he has been punished so that was the end, but he specifically wants me to forgive him.”

“Forgive him for what?”

“For making me cum without permission.” Hunter seems confused to start with, but recognition dawns on him quickly.

“That’s when I made you stay with me, right?” Blaine nods. “That was ages ago! Stupid whore.” Hunter mutters to himself. He goes silent in consideration.

“What did you tell him?” Hunter asks after some time.

“I don’t know, Master.”

“What do you mean you don’t know!?” Hunter all but shouts, standing up threateningly and crowding into Blaine’s space. Defensively, Blaine takes a small step back, however this seems to anger Hunter as he suddenly grabs one of the D-rings on Blaine’s collar, yanking him forwards. Blaine’s knees go weak and wants to drop to the floor, but is prevented from doing so by Hunter. He’s already mucked up once today, and now he appears to have just done it again!

“I’m sorry Master, I phrased that poorly!” Blaine rushes, “I mean, I told 8263 that I don’t know how he could make it up. He has been punished by you, and that is all that should matter.” Hunter appears to accept this as an answer, releasing Blaine’s collar. The moment he can, Blaine drops to his knees. This seems to throw Hunter slightly, who pauses in his movement back towards his desk. He considers Blaine for a moment before seeming to lose all his composure, moving behind his desk to slouch on the chair, head in his hands with a dramatic sigh.

“Master?” Blaine dares to question, “Can I help?”

“Unless you can perform magic, not really,” Hunter forces a chuckle. Blaine forces a small smile before bowing his head. “See, when the new subs arrive there is so much paper work it’s a mess and takes a while to sort everything out. There is an inspection today by some people working for the United Nation, checking that everything we are doing falls within the submissive category of Human Rights. Of course, we have paperwork signed by everyone’s parents giving us the legal guardianship to every submissive, allowing us to use our proven methods. But with the induction of the newbs as well as the auction in a few days, there is so much that some of the paperwork gets misplaced, and I may not be able to produce everything to the UN when they want it. Of course, there are copies of everything kept at the origin holding centers and at the offices, but I need to have access to hard copies of it all. The UN have the power to shut me down or completely change everything, so while they are here we cannot risk crossing any lines; including not having the correct paperwork to hand.” He sighs. “Also, a couple of the holding centers are yet to send the files over to us, as is always the case, but until we get everyone’s files we can’t do much with the newbs, hence they are kept in a room for a few hours until we can get started. But, alas! There isn’t much I can do apart from try and find it all.

“Actually,” Hunter starts slowly after a brief pause. “Now I think about it, there is something you can do. You see, I can’t really let you get away without some form of punishment, as it is in part your fault that 8263 set a bad example to the newbs. But you couldn’t have known he would do that, you couldn’t have prevented it, and I suppose for the circumstances you acted the best way you could. However, you can help me in fixing some of the damage caused.”

Blaine perks up slightly at the realization he can do something to help his Master and make things better.

“Anything Master! Anything,” He pleads enthusiastically. Hunter smiles at him, seeming to overlook the fact that Blaine is speaking out of turn.

“Well, there are two things. First, as your main punishment, you will watch Jacob receive his lashes to remind yourself of why he is receiving it. Although I don’t fault you completely, you are one of the causes and therefore there must be consequences for your actions.

“Secondly, I’ve got a special job for you to do. Not a punishment as such, but repairing some of the damage you caused. 8263 has caused some issues for us, because he upset some of the newbs and we are unable to use our methods to reassure them. Therefore I need you to calm them down a deliver a message for me. If you can settle them down, your participation in this stunt will all be forgiven and forgotten. I won’t even put it on your record! Ok, so I need you to tell them…” 


 

After a quick radio call, a guard appears and leads Blaine to the small room all the newbies are continued within; the exact same room he was first taken to when he arrived. The guard locks the door behind Blaine, leaving him alone with twenty-four scared and angry subs.

“Hi?” He addresses the group uncertainly.

“Why have you only just got here?” One of the guys speak out.

“I’ve been sent to talk to you,” he says carefully, fidgeting.

“So you aren’t new?” A different sub asks. Blaine shakes her head at her.

“I’m now in my third month of training.”

“So, why are you here?” The girl asks.

“He’s one of the people who spoke in the assembly!” A different guy speaks out. He gets up and walks to Blaine. “Hi, I’m Jackson,” he introduces with his hand held out. It takes Blaine a moment to work out what the outstretched hand is for, but eventually does shake the offered hand. “What actually happened in the hall? You two were chatting and suddenly you were on your knees, and then everyone seemed to start panicking until the weird boss guy started barking out orders and we were herded into this room.” Blaine realizes that shaking the guys hand probably contradicts the message he has been told to deliver.

“As I said, I’ve been sent to talk to you,” he ignores Jackson’s questions. “I need to tell you that what you saw today was wrong, and I am embarrassed by mine and 8263’s behavior. So I must apologize, it is not how submissives should act.”

“Oh no! You are one of those brainwashed people! We are every bit as human as the Doms, and have the same human rights! We need to have courage. We need to all work together. We could easily overpower the guards here, and I’m sure once we get outside, and we all share our stories of the awful treatment, people will back us up and support us. You say you’ve been here three months, so you must remember what you were like before being here!” Blaine surveys the group. Approximately half of them are all nodding along with Jackson, and a further quarter are interested. However the remaining five or six look terrified, as though the thought of doing anything confrontational is wrong of them. Blaine has to agree with them.

“Before I was here I was pretending to be someone who I am not. I am a sub – as are all of you, - and we are not entitled to consider ourselves equal to Doms. And that includes not having the same human rights. You will find this out shortly anyway, but essentially for all intents and purposes, your parents signed away your human rights!

“And you want to riot? You would be on your own; none of the older subs here would support you as we all understand our place! And even if you did still decide to fight, you wouldn’t get very far. It is not a sub’s position to fight against our superiors.” Blaine stands up straighter and takes a breath as he prepares to say what Master told him to, hoping it’s a lie but not knowing for sure. “Do you really want to hurt everyone around you because of your childish insolent behaviour? Because that’s what happens when you act up. Every collar is loaded with a few small electrodes. The push of a button will electrocute every single sub with the house’s standard collar. It is set at a level which will cause us to pass out, but can be adjusted up to a lethal level. And they are not individualised, so if a small group start acting out, everyone will get punished. We are all in the same situation; why risk making it worse for others because you are acting selfishly?”

“You’re lying!” Jackson spits.

“Say I am – and I don’t know for sure, it’s not the sort of information available to a sub - do you want to risk it?”

“No,” Jackson almost whispers, backing down. Blaine breathes an inaudible sigh of relief. Hopefully he has done enough to satisfy Hunter.

“Now, I’m instructed to take you to see what happens when subs misbehave. It is my fault 8263 spoke to me, and therefore is my fault 8263 is getting punished, and because Master knows it’s my fault, I have to watch my friend take the whip on my behalf. Every single action you make will affect someone else, likely whoever you are close to. Remember that.”

Blaine leads the new subs down the various corridors to the cafeteria, where Jacob is already tied to the post in the center of the room.

“You are late,” the female guard from earlier comments. “That’s an extra five lashes for 8263.”

“Sorry, Ma’am,” Blaine apologizes, head lowered submissively. He hadn’t considered anyone was waiting for him, which seems stupid – of course they would have been. Blaine regrets spending so long talking to the group; Jacob is going to be the one suffering for that mistake.

“Newbs, stay where you are. 5226, come kneel in front of slut.” She waits for Blaine to get into position before addressing him again. “I want you looking into his eyes the whole time.” With that, she lands the first strike upon Jacob’s back.


 

That night Blaine stays awake in his cage, waiting for Jacob to return. He needs to know Jacob is alright, the blonde boy having passed out only a quarter of the way through all the lashes By the time Blaine had counted all one hundred and five strikes in his head, the message had sunk into every sub present – himself included. It's not Jacob’s fault that Blaine has been off with him, yet he paid the price for it. Jackson's comment plays on his mind as he reluctantly succumbs to sleep; We need to have courage. We need to all work together.

Chapter Text

Blaine is surprised when he wakes up the next day and Jacob has not been returned to his cage. Instead of dwelling on it he sets about his morning routine while he waits for everyone else to wake up.

“Hello Nick,” Blaine greets as he leaves the washroom, noticing that Nick and a few others are also awake. At first, Nick seems a little perplexed that Blaine is speaking to him, but decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Hi,” he starts with a smile. “How are you?” He asks politely.

“I’m goo-“ Blaine stops himself. He isn’t good, not truthfully. “I’m still going strong I guess. Look, I wanted to apologize to you.”

“There’s no need-“

“Yes, there is a need to,” Blaine interrupts. “That day when I had a go at you; I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. In complete honesty, I can’t say I disagree with what I said, but I am sorry about how I said it. And, to be fair, I’m sorry that I did say it. I know you and I don’t see eye to eye on this whole submissive thing,” Blaine’s arms make a sweeping motion, indicating their enslavement. Talking with his hands is a habit he worked hard to break, but it appears it’s coming back. “But we were best friends. We are best friends. And no matter what we think each think about our situations, all we have left is each other. I now realize it would be an incredibly stupid move to try and turn away from that. Will you forgive me?”

“Blaine!” Nick engulfs Blaine in a hug. “Of course I forgive you! You have been put through things I can’t even imagine. And I’m sorry for pressuring you to become the old Blaine again. Things have happened to you, to us, that we can’t come back from.”

“Let me have my moment Nick!” Blaine chuckles, still not breaking apart from their hug. “It’s my turn to apologize, you don’t need to. It’s me who was in the wrong, you were just trying to help.” The pair go silent. Suddenly, Blaine becomes aware of their intimacy. Or more specifically, their lack of dress combined with close personal contact. They break apart awkwardly, Blaine shyly picking at invisible dirt from under his nails.

“Dare I ask what caused your change of heart?” Nick starts, trying to stop the awkwardness.

“Something someone reminded me of yesterday; courage,” Blaine thinks back to Jackson. There was more to it than that, but that one word struck the biggest chord, and Blaine doesn’t feel like spilling all his emotional woes at once.

“Wow, it’s been quite a while since I’ve heard you say that word actually. Wasn’t that your favorite motivational text?” He chuckles.

“Something like that,” Blaine replies, embarrassed. “I… I need to apologize to Jacob too.” Nick looks at Blaine sheepishly. “What, Nick?”

“I just… he’s a bit of a… well. I don’t like him.”

“Neither do I. However, it’s not his fault he’s here, just like it’s not our fault we are here. We are all in the same situation; I don’t think we should be making enemies of each other.”

“What happened yesterday?” Nick questions, knowing Blaine too well and not buying his obvious excuse.

“It doesn’t matter. Still, we shouldn’t be making things worse for each other. In less than a year we will all be shipped off our separate ways. I want to make it right before it’s too late.”

Before Nick gets a chance to reply a guard comes around to unlock the cell, making them drop the conversation.

Heading into the cafeteria, Blaine spots Jacob for the first time since yesterday. He is still tied up in the same position as yesterday, hands cuffed onto the post above his head. Blaine is tempted to head over to him to apologize, but he changes his mind when he glances at the guards overseeing the cafeteria. They probably won’t appreciate him talking to Jacob. He thinks better off it and instead kneels next to Nick, silently eating his lunch. They don’t talk either, but it’s possibly still the most relaxing lunch he’s had in a while. He is finally starting to feel a little more at ease around his friends.

Blaine takes his first bite of his meal, and is surprised by the burst of flavor. Inspecting his bowl, he realizes he has been given actual food today. By no stretch of imagination is it ‘good’ food, but compared to their normal slop, Blaine can’t complain. It seems as though several different meals have been combined into one, as not all the flavours go well together, but it is much better than the dog food-like meals they have been having recently. 

It puts Blaine in a relatively positive mood for the remainder of the day.


 

The next morning Jacob’s cage is still unoccupied as Blaine and the others leave the cell towards their first session of the day.

“Where are you going?” Nick asks when he realizes Blaine’s heading left while the rest turn right.

“We are in room P. All the bedrooms are this way?” Blaine responds, confused. He knows he is going the right way. Of the whole group, he is probably the only one to know the location of most the rooms, having walked almost everywhere in Hunter’s company.

“Oh, we are required to go to the assembly room this morning. I guess they told us after you were called to Hunter.”

“Oh,” Blaine shrugs before joining Nick down the right corridor, puzzling over the room change. “Do you know why?” He questions after a few minutes of silence.

“Not a clue. I was hoping you would know if I’m being honest. I thought you got insider knowledge about everything.” Blaine looks at Nick in surprise.

“I don’t know any more than you?” He questions, slightly baffled by Nick’s assumption.

“Oh.” If Blaine had to bet, he would say Nick sounded disappointed by this. “But you spent so much time with Hunter, and he still seems to give you a lot of attention…” Nick prompts for more information, but Blaine doesn’t offer any. They walk the rest of the way in silence, both thinking about their short conversation.

When they arrive, they are greeted by a few guards as well as several women wearing what looks like medical uniforms, one in blue and the others in green. Blaine kneels in wait of further instruction, the other subs following his lead. They are not left waiting long before a guard turns to them, counting how many subs there are.

“There’s only ten?” One of the guards mutters to another.

“The last one is being released from the post in the cafeteria and they will meet us there,” another responds. “Nurse, how are these for you?”

“All good. I think I have seen what I need to know,” the nurse in the blue uniform responds, obviously in charge of the nurses in the green uniforms.

“Follow me,” a third guard orders. They are led through quite a few corridors, ending up in an area Blaine hasn’t seen before. During the walk, Blaine was trying to commit all the corridors to memory, just in case he is sent this way again. They finally come to a stop at what appears to be an infirmary; four hospital style beds with curtain dividers, currently open. At the far end of the room there appears to be loads of cupboards containing medical equipment, as well as a few portable, but large, machines. The room is windowless, somewhere deep within the walls of the compound, which doesn’t help the eerie atmosphere of the room at all. If the aroma of death had a feeling, Blaine decides this room would be it.

“You all need to lock your cuffs behind your backs,” the female guard informs the subs while the nurses start pottering about at the back of the room. Blaine obeys straight away, as does Lucy, Brittany’s friend from the Song Birds. But the rest simply stand there almost uncomprehendingly. “I shouldn’t be having to tell you again,” the guard warns. “I know it’s probably been a while since you’ve last done it, but I am sure you are all too smart to have forgotten how to clasp your hands…” Majority of the remaining subs reluctantly fumble to hook their cuffs together. At first Nick doesn’t, but after a pleading look from Blaine, he relents. There are only two subs remaining with their hands by their sides – he thinks their names are Zack and Josie, but doesn’t know for sure.

The guard starts to approach the pair, who both back away defensively.

“So, you two must be the stupid whores, who still haven’t learnt that when your superior tells you to do something, you do it!” She unclips her taser from her belt, aiming it directly towards Zack’s chest.

However, Blaine is shocked when Zack ducks out the way, causing the guard to completely miss her target. He doesn’t get very far before the guard grabs hold of his collar, pulling him to stand upright in front of her. She tasers him on his shoulder, her grip on his collar being the only thing that keeps him upright.

The commotion has caught the attention of one of the other guards, who starts to make his way over towards Josie.

“You’ve seen what happens when you misbehave. You get one more chance,” the girls simply stares back at the guard. Before Blaine can realize exactly what is happening, the second guard has tasered the girl, who falls to the floor in a heap once released. She slowly rises to her feet again.

“No!” She challenges, still sounding weak from her shock.

“Avert your gaze, girl,” the guards comments calmly, not taking the bait.

“No!” She repeats, sounding slightly stronger than before. The guard simply sighs, as though he can’t be bothered to deal with this. He pulls out his taser once again, this time getting the girl on the chest. Once again she drops to the floor. This time she doesn’t get back up. Blaine sees her chest still rising, so assumes she is unconscious.

“Are you going to do as you are told now?” The female guards asks Zack. Slowly, he drops his head and links his wrists together. Blaine doesn’t understand the disobedience of the other subs. It has been repeatedly made clear that they are not entitled to have an opinion on any matter, and that the Doms will always get their way. To Blaine, it seems excessive to put up a fight for something he is inevitably going to lose, especially when there is a high probability of getting hurt in the process.

“Good boy,” the guard praises. Out of view of the guard, Zack shoots daggers at the floor. Blaine can’t comprehend the action. He knows it could only really be in reaction to being praised, as that’s appeared to be the trigger, but why would anyone be angry that they were told they were being good? Blaine likes to be praised as it leaves him feeling contented when the positive words are directed at him.

Without letting go of his collar, the guard pushes Zack backwards towards the wall.

“Everyone in a line against the wall,” she calls to the others. Blaine ends up at the end of the line away from the door, with Nick on his other side. Brittany and Tina are closer to the shut door, lined up next to Zack. It’s not until everyone is in line against the wall that Blaine realizes Josie is still passed out on the floor. Just as the female guard is about to say something, the door swings open.

Two guards enter, dragging a body in between them. It takes a moment for Blaine to recognize it’s Jacob, not having seen the boy look so defeated before.

“Do you want to bring that one straight over?” One of the nurses pipes up before they are able to take Jacob to the space next to him. “We are almost ready to start anyway.”

Blaine watches as Jacob is dragged over and thrown onto one of the beds. The two guards start pulling leather straps out from under the bed, fastening Jacob to the bed. His hands are pulled up above his head and are locked to the head board, as well as another strap at his elbows to pull his arms away from his face.

Jacob doesn’t put up any fight, his exhausted state no match for the guards anyway. They swiftly work together to attach several more straps over his torso and legs. By the time they are done, Jacob couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

Having been distracted watching the guards manhandle Jacob, he hadn’t noticed the female guard traveling up the row of subs against the wall, attaching a leash-like chain between a D-ring on the collars and previously unnoticed hooks on the wall, just above head height. As she starts getting closer to Nick he can see the boy getting very fidgety. He tries to send a calming smile, not daring to talk to him and make the same mistake he made before. Unfortunately, Nick doesn’t take any notice of him as he gets more agitated by the minute. Just before the guard grabs Nick’s collar to clip on the chain, he pushes himself away from the wall and towards the middle of the room.

“No! I’m sorry Blaine,” he says, addressing his friend before turning to the guard. “I try to be good, but I can’t stand here and let you tie me up to the bloody wall! I’m not a fucking dog you can just chain up and leave while you go about your business!”

The guard doesn’t say anything. She steps towards him, making a grab for his collar before Nick steps back again.

“No. You can talk to me! I understand human words. Because, news flash, no matter what you argue I am now, I have been a normal human for the first sixteen years of my life! Tell me why you are chaining me up against the wall! Don’t treat me as though I am nothing more than a slab of meat!”

The guard still makes no response. Instead, the third guard, who up until this point had been talking to the nurses, sneaks up behind Nick and throws his arm around Nick’s neck, putting him into a head lock.

“Tell me what you are doing and I will go willingly!” Nick’s plead seems to fall on death ears. “Treat me like I am fucking worth something!” There is still no response from the guards.

Nick keeps trying to fight, shouting incomprehensible words, but has to give in to the iron arm around him eventually. The guard roughly pushes Nick back towards the wall, who has to push his hands out in front of his to prevent his face colliding with the wall. The guard seems a bit annoyed by Nick’s action, but decides to let it drop.

The female guard quickly chains Nick to the wall.

“You will be punished later,” she whispers into his ear, only just loud enough for Blaine to have overheard. She grasps a second chain to hook Blaine to the same bolt in the wall.

Blaine want to comfort his friend, but has no idea how without drawing attention to them.

“Ok, let’s grab the unconscious girl as well. Get her strapped down before she wakes and it’s one less that fights.” The lead nurse instructs.

Blaine watches what is happening to Jacob and Josie, preparing himself for what he undoubtedly has in store before the end of the day.

Both beds have a similar set up with two nurses setting up a machine on the far side of the bed, and one guard on the near side by the head of the bed. The female guard is leaning against the wall by the door, apparently there to provide help and supervise the remaining subs, while the two who brought Jacob in have now both left.

The nurses working on Jacob seem more prepared than the two with Josie, who are still setting everything up.

One of Jacob’s nurses grabs a razor, instructing the guard in how she needs Jacob positioned. Once she is satisfied with the angle of Jacobs face, she starts removing his stubble. Jacob doesn’t put up any fight with the razor in such a dangerous area. As the nurse works lower, the guard still holding onto Jacob, Blaine notices Jacob start to panic when he realizes that all hair below is eyebrows is going to be shaved off.

He starts fighting to get away from the sharp blade, however jostling does nothing to dislodge the guard.

“Wiggle all you want; you won’t get very far. And there is a very sharp razor near your special crown jewels, so I suggest you try and decide if it’s worth it. They aren’t much good to us,” the guard taunts, flicking Jacob’s penis in a way that makes Blaine flinch in sympathy. “So it’s completely your choice if you get to keep it or not.” Jacobs looks down his body at the nurse with the sharp blade, eyes wide.

Blaine averts his attention towards the team on the opposite side of the room. Josie is still unconscious, the nurse finishing up on shaving her legs. It’s clear that she has been able to work quicker with a still body. Blaine is curious as to what is happening. The last time he was ‘shaved’, he was locked in chastity and whisked off to Hunter’s house for a week. As much as he learnt from the experience, he highly doubts that’s what is about to happen now to all eleven of them.

A metallic noise distracts Blaine from his train of thought. Re-focusing on the room in front of him, he watches a nurse wheel over a machine. Blaine hasn’t ever seen one before, even when he was in hospital after the guys attacked him at the Sadie Hawkins dance. It looks quite basic, about hip height and a simple rectangular shape, with a few hose attachments. Curious, Blaine watches as the nurse finishes setting up the machine.

On Jacob’s side of the room the nurses have both put on sunglasses. Or at least, Blaine can’t come up with an alternative to what else they may be. The nurse in the blue robes switches on the machine before holding one of the hose attachments above Jacob.

Blaine holds his breath, waiting for something. However, that something doesn’t seem to happen. A small light shines on Jacob’s cheek, accompanied by a very faint beeping. It takes a moment of looking around before Blaine realizes that it definitely is the machine making the noise. He has no idea what it is doing.

Looking back over to Josie, Blaine is starting to get concerned. She still seems to be unconscious. From experience he knows the taser is painful, and assumes he was hit at a lower level than Josie, but he still would have thought the girl would have woken up by now. Maybe she hit her head on her fall? He can’t see any blood, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t bleeding internally…

Blaine tries to think logically, reasoning that the nurses working on her would be able to tell if there was a serious issue. But then, would they do anything? Surely they would, else why is there an infirmary in the building? It still doesn’t settle Blaine’s worry, but he can’t do anything to stop his concerns so instead goes for the distraction technique. He checks the progress of Jacob.

A small whimper catches his attention; Jacob starting to object to the treatment. As the nurse moves the pipe across Jacobs face, Blaine starts to recognize what the machine may be. He confirms his suspicions when he checks Josie, now treating her underarm area. They are using a laser to remove the subs hairs, likely leaving just eyebrows and head hair.

Looking back over to Jacob, Blaine watches him wince in pain either from the stress the position is putting on his injured back or from the intensity of the laser. Most likely both. Blaine closes his eyes, reciting his time table to try and pass time.

“Make sure you hold him still,” one of Jacob’s nurses asks his guard when they reach his private area. “This is the part where they are likely to object to the most.”

The guard repositions himself so most of his weight is on Jacob’s abdomen. Jacob shouts out in pain, the added weight putting more pressure on his injured back as well as touching the recently treated sensitive skin on his front. Jacob continues letting out involuntary whimpers, trying to regulate his breathing through the pain.

He seems to be managing up until the machine is turned back on. He bites down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from crying out. Tears start rolling down his face.

Blaine looks away, suddenly his feet becoming considerably more interesting to him. He tries to block out the whimpers of pain, knowing there are still eight more subs to go through the procedure, as well as himself.

He notices when Jacob and Josie are both taken away, finally having finished their treatment. When the guards reappear, he hears some begging and pleading; no doubt the guards grabbing the next two subs. He knows all of them are mostly likely about to undergo the same treatment, but also knows there is no way to stop it. No matter how much they plead, or how hard he tries to intervene, it won’t change any of their fates for the better, so Blaine decides to stay out of it and just let the guards do their job.

He finds the happy place of his, where nothing around him seems to matter, and lets himself get carried away within it. He doesn’t want to leave that place just yet.


 

A hand on his collar startles him. A guard releases the clip on Blaine’s collar, freeing him from the wall. Looking around, Blaine realizes he is the only one left, apparently having zoned out for longer than he thought.

“Come on you,” the guard commands tiredly, still gripping onto Blaine’s collar. “Now, I know you are going to behave like a good boy aren’t you?” Blaine doesn’t respond, confused over what the correct response is. Using Blaine’s collar, the guard pushes Blaine towards the bed on the right; the one Jacob had been in. Two nurses are waiting for him, while the other two are packing away their station and doing what appears to be general sorting and inventory.

As Blaine is being strapped onto the table, he puzzles over the nurses, wondering what type of employment they have at the sub house. Given the O.S.O’s complete indifference towards the quality of a sub’s life, and the non-existent aftercare after being on the receiving end of the whip, Blaine can’t think of a reason as to why they would need four nurses here full time. Maybe there are four who are employed on a part time basis, only one being on shift at a time unless there is something bigger pre-planned; like the treatment today.

Blaine is pulled out of his train of thought by a sharp pain near his left ankle. He lifts his head to look, biting his bottom lip to prevent making any noises, and sees the guard having just done up the strap on his leg, trapping his skin in the buckle. Deep breaths Blaine, deep breaths he chants to himself.

Upon seeming Blaine’s reaction, the guard chuckles. He pats Blaine’s leg condescendingly, moving onto the next ankle and doing it up just as tight, a mischievous glint in his eye. Trying to keep his movement to a minimum, Blaine tries to free his trapped skin. By pointing his toe and tugging sideways, he manages, a sigh of relief escaping him.

Blaine lays his head back down on the fluffy pillow, grateful that at least the bed is surprisingly comfortable. He tries not to think consider that it probably only feels as comfortable as it does due to the numerous nights cramped up in his metal cage.

“I’m off to go check in with King Hunter,” the female guard interrupts Blaine’s thoughts. “You all good here?”

“I would have thought so. This should be the easiest one I expect,” the second guard responds, now sat down on a stool next to Blaine’s head. he feels a little more relaxed once the guard leaves, knowing there is one less person in the room. He doesn’t think the nurses are any real threat to him, at least not in the sense of tasering him, and the third guard must have already left while Blaine wasn’t paying attention. Although he knows he is still in the exact same situation as before, he feels less out of control of the situation.

This moment of relaxation passes quickly when one of the nurses approaches him with a razor, reminding Blaine of why he is there.

He tries to move his head willingly when the guard repositions him, however his muscles don’t seem to want to cooperate. His body is tense in anticipation of that pain that’s to come.  

Blaine is pleasantly surprised by the application of the shaving gel on his face, being massaged across his stubble, the motion of the nurse’s hands helping bleed out some of his tension. The hair is on the verge of being classed a beard, just starting to lose its prickliness. It’s the longest he has ever had it before, and it’s certainly not by choice. I should be happy it’s going to be going; I don’t like it anyway. It doesn’t persuade him.

The nurse brings the razor down against his skin, much gentler than he expected. Maybe they can’t risk cutting him because of the laser that’s about to come? In time with the nurse, the guard moves Blaine’s head to give her access to his face at the best angle. Blaine let’s himself be moved, trusting the guard. He couldn’t object to what’s happening even if he tried, so he may as well lay back and let them get on with their job. It’s no longer his job to worry about his body, so it's a safe practice to put himself in other people’s hands.

Once finished with his beard, the nurse applies the cool gel to Blaine’s underarm, a second nurse joining them and mirroring her on his other side to complete the process quicker.

Blondie – the name Blaine has given the second nurse due to her hair – is much less gentle, using very little shaving gel and quick strokes to remove the hair as quickly as possible. Somehow, even her latex gloves feel scratchier than Blackie’s – the first nurse with the black hair.

Blaine focuses on the feeling of the bed below him. The mattress is soft; though not soft enough for him to sink into and hide from the world like he wishes he could. The pillow beneath his head isn’t the best he’s ever had, but it’s better than the cold metal of his cage, despite being slightly damp from the sweat or tears of the subs that had gone before him. He reminds himself that he should simply be grateful they did provide a pillow on the bed; they didn’t have to.

As more hair leaves his body, Blaine becomes aware of how cold the room is, despite the earlier body heat and lack of proper ventilation of the windowless room. There is a slight draft from somewhere, causing his skin to prickle where it is still damp from the nurse removing the leftover shaving cream in each area. Blondie drags the razor across Blaine’s groin, much in the way Hunter did before.

He shivers.

Once the nurses have finished shaving his front, Blaine is surprised to find himself being untied. He can’t remember this happening to any of the other subs, but then again he didn’t really pay attention. He didn’t watch Jacob for long before he gave up.

Once free, the guard doesn’t let go of him.

“Turn over,” the guard asks. Blaine doesn’t move for a few seconds, confused until the guard helps manoeuvre him so he is face-down on the bed. Maybe he didn’t see this happen because they didn’t do it to Jacob; unable to work on his back because of the wounds.

Blondie quickly saves his back, including his neck and legs, while Blackie starts getting the machine ready. From the swiftness of Blondie’s work, Blaine assumes there is still a slight stubble of hairs left behind.

Too soon does Blaine feel the sharp shock of the laser. He flinches, but manages to remain silent. It’s not as painful as he had expected, truth be told.

The guard holds Blaine’s head still, hands on either side so his face is straight into the pillow. Blaine inhales the scent. The pillow has a very faint lavender smell, as though it was last washed several months ago. The main, overpowering, scent is of a foul musk, likely having been a fair while since it was last used.

As the nurses work their way down Blaine’s back – one operating the laser and the other pinching and pulling his skin to the way they want it – the pain starts rising. What started out as an annoyance is now becoming more intense. The skin that’s already been treated feels like it’s on fire. Combining that with the continuous pinching and the shocks of the laser, it’s verging on a sensory overload in Blaine’s head. He starts chewing on the right side of his bottom lip, trying to focus on that rather than shouting out from the pain.

The panic rises when he feels hands on his cheeks, pulling them apart to expose his hole. This time he can’t help but let a whimper escape.

Be a good boy for Master. Blaine tells himself. It might hurt, but his Master wants it to be done, therefore he needs to be still and quiet. He needs to make Hunter proud.

Another zap causes another small whimper. Tears start welling up, but Blaine refuses to let them fall.

As much as Blaine has always liked to be clean shaven, never there. So much has already been taken from him – his virginity, his family, even his entire identity – yet somehow this seems to be the worst. Maybe it’s because he didn’t realize he had anything left to lose. Maybe he feels like he is losing the last thing he has, even though he didn’t know he had it until now. Maybe it’s just one thing too many; another permanent change to his body in which he has no say.

Be a good boy, Blaine. What happens to your body is no longer up to you. He reminds himself.

He didn’t realize he had said that out loud until he hears a chuckle from the guard, the nurses also having stopped their ministrations.

“Yes, you’re right. And I must say, you are being a very good boy at the moment,” the guard praises, rubbing Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine wants to feel embarrassed; embarrassed for talking out loud, embarrassed for thinking that way about himself, embarrassed for liking the patronizing words. However, all those logical emotions are overshadowed by the pure euphoria he gets.

He should be embarrassed about that as well.

In a state of bliss, Blaine doesn’t even notice his legs being treated.

As the guard undoes his straps to turn him onto his back once again, Blaine hears the door open. He doesn’t pay the new arrival any attention; that is until they speak.

“Hello pet,” Hunter greets as Blaine’s limbs are being tied up once again now he is on his back. The sheets that first felt relatively soft now feel like needles on his sensitive skin, but his mind is focused on the brunette making his way over to him.

“Master,” Blaine whines as Hunter scratches his scalp. Hunter chuckles.

“Why don’t we take a little break? Let you have a bit of a breather before continuing,” he comments before addressing the nurses. “Why don’t you two lovely ladies go help yourself to the coffee machine in my office, as long as you promise to bring me one back.” Hunter hands the nurses a set of keys, probably for his office.

The nurses leave, muttering between themselves.

“You can leave as well if you want?” Hunter addresses the guard.

“I don’t mind being here,” the guard grunt back, giving Blaine the impression that whatever job he would have to do if he leaves would not be as good as holding the wall up in here.

“You can head home now, finish your shift a couple of hours early…” the guard leaves without a word, apparently the prospect of an early day being too good to delay. “Long time no see, pet. How are you feeling?” He asks Blaine.

“It hurts, Master. It’s very intense,” he replies honestly.

“I know. But better it’s all over in one day than taking forever right?” Blaine doesn’t agree, so decides not to respond. “Don’t worry though, I’m here now.”

Blaine nods, closing his eyes. They stay there in silence, Hunter typing something on his phone. Eventually the nurses return, handing a drink to Hunter. He takes it with a thanks, sticking his phone back in his pocket.

“Are we ok to continue?” Blondie asks.

“Sure,” Hunter responds nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. “Ouch, hot.” The nurse chuckles in an apologizing way. “Tell me exactly what it is you are doing?” He asks in a way of starting a conversation.

Blaine hears Blackie start to talk, but doesn’t pay attention. Hunter perches on the bed next to Blaine’s head, one foot still on the floor and one almost folded under him. With his free hand, he starts playing with Blaine’s curls.

Apart from the rhythmic movement of Hunter’s hand, the occupants of the room pretty much completely ignore him.

The first shock of the laser surprises Blaine, having not been prepared for it on the side of his face. He squeals in surprise and flinches.

“Tut tut, slut,” Hunter scolds.

“Sorry Master, I’m sorry,” he rushes to apologise.

“Ssssh,” he calms, running his hand through Blaine’s hair in a relaxing gesture. “You were just a little spooked, weren’t you?” Blaine nods. “That’s ok. But this time I need you to stay still and quiet, okay? I want you to remind me what a good boy you can be. My good boy.”

“Yes Master. I am a good boy.” Your good boy, he adds to himself.

The next shock of the laser doesn’t surprise him as much. It still hurts, and it’s still as intense as the others, but this time he manages to keep still and quiet. He wishes the guard was back and holding his head still again; it would have been much easier and required less self-control. Even with Blondie moving his head while Blackie works, Blaine still has to fight with himself to stay still like Hunter told him to do. No matter what, he can’t disobey Master’s orders.

Blaine is glad when they finally finish with his face and move down, as it means he can let his straps do most the work at holding him still.

“Tell her I said well done. That’s a great college to get accepted into! What is she studying?” Blaine eavesdrops on Hunter’s conversation. Now that the need to focus on staying still has lessened slightly, he is giving the distraction method a try.

“Submissive phycology,” Blackie responds simply.

“Oh wow! We are currently hiring in that department; it’s one of the understaffed ones. Does she want to come here a few days to get a bit of work experience? I can’t get her in at the offices, but I’d be more than happy for her to come shadow me some time,” Hunter offers, uncharacteristically nice towards his employee.

“I will let her know of the offer, thank you. That will probably prove invaluable when she comes to apply to jobs. She hasn’t managed to find any relevant experience positions so far.”

“There isn’t any; we don’t tend to allow visitors like that as it’s more work for us, and a lot of paperwork. But you are fantastic for coming and doing this, so think of it as a personal favor.” Blaine feels there may be some hidden agenda behind this, but doesn’t speculate on what it may be.

Instead he goes back to focusing on not whimpering. Although nothing was said to him, he expects he may have made a few noises while listening to their conversation. That’s doesn’t stop him from hearing when they start to talk about him.

“I agree. I can now see what you can see in him,” Blackie says, Blaine hearing only the second part of what she says.

“There is something about him. He seems to have such a strong naturally submissive side,” Hunter adds.

“And he seems to have no reluctance to home into that part of him. He will be amazing once he has completed training. And you will do well to not have any competition for him!”

“I think he will be. But oh yes, I already have competition. I’ve got a few things up my sleeve though.”

“Ohh, do tell!” Blondie flirts.

“Can’t do that, you may give away my secrets,” Hunter teases.

“Ah, damn,” Blackie curses. “Hopefully I can find a sub like he that no one else notices. I can get an idea depending on how much they object to the laser.”

“I wish you luck!” He replies honestly. “On the note of objection; how do you feel about doing the procedure three months into training?”

“What do you mean?” Blondie asks.

“Should we do this treatment sooner?” Hunter clarifies.

“Nah, I think it’s about good where it is.”

“They are mostly manageable,” Blackie adds, “and with the help of the guards we don’t have too many issues, though I’m not sure that would be the case with them any earlier. And I don’t think you can afford to do it any later, since you need to keep an eye out on who needs a follow up session.”

“You know more than me, I will take your word for it!” Blaine can hear the smile in Hunter’s voice. “And I expect it probably has some phycological message at this stage as well; you don’t even own your own body hair.” His accompanying chuckle sends a shiver down Blaine’s spine. Does Hunter really care that little about them?

Eventually, Blaine finally feels the last piercing shock of the laser.

“All done,” Hunter announces, patting Blaine’s shoulder. Blaine breathes a sigh of relief, he couldn’t hold it back if he tried. “You’ve been a very good boy,” Hunter confirms as he helps the nurses untie Blaine.

Blaine gets of the bed with the assistance of Hunter. He can’t help the small smile that makes its way to his lips as he looks at the floor by his feet.

“Come on,” Hunter directs, leading Blaine out the room. “I had best take you back as the cells will be locked by now.”

When Blaine arrives, everyone else is already in their cages for the night, most of them looking as though they have already gone to sleep. Blaine climbs up into his cage as Hunter leaves, locking the door behind him. Blaine didn’t even notice the lack of comfort in the cages, as his mind kept replaying the small lines of praises from Hunter.

I am a good boy.

Chapter Text

The following week continues just the same as all the others, just with a lot less hair between the group. Blaine is still set in his resolve to make it up to Jacob, however since the ‘great shave’, as the group jokingly named it, Jacob has been absent. At first Blaine thought maybe he had been returned to the post in the canteen, but over the last few days it has remained empty. He is at a loss for where Jacob could be. He knows there is no point fretting about it; there is nothing he can do anyway. However, that knowledge doesn’t prevent him from speculating in his spare time.

Blaine doesn’t see Jacob again until the night before the next auction. Blaine is sat on the floor of their cell with Tina, winding down from the day and simply taking time to enjoy each other’s company. Nick is in the shower, and Brittany is talking to Lucy – the friend she made in the song birds.

Blaine turns to look at the door when he hears its unmistakable scrape of metal against concrete. Having expected it to be a guard, because logically speaking there isn’t many other alternatives, he is surprised to find Jacob entering the cell. Blaine is about to get up to go and apologize, but pauses when he sees the distraught look on Jacob’s face.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, twisting completely on his knees to face Jacob.

“Leave me alone,” Jacob snarls back at him before going to crawl straight into his cage, turning his back to the room. Blaine is taken aback by the harsh words. Before now, Jacob had only ever been either flirty or apologetic when talking to Blaine. He didn’t realize Jacob could even have this sort of cold side.

It also annoys him slightly. He only had his best intentions in mind, yet Jacob wouldn’t hear him out. It’s not like it was even his fault that Jacob acted out, was it?

Hunter blamed it partly on him, so maybe it was his fault. Sure, Jacob only did it because Blaine wouldn’t let him make it up, but Blaine wasn’t to know what the repercussions of that would have been. He couldn’t have prevented it, surely? No matter what their Master said. Right?

“Pleas-“

“Fuck off Blaine!” Jacob shouts before Blaine can even form a complete word. He sits there, on his knees, at a loss for what to do. As much as he wants to grab Jacob by the shoulders and make him listen, he knows that’s unreasonable. Only a few days ago the situation was reversed, with Jacob trying to apologize to Blaine.

Although Blaine did listen to his apology, he just refused to forget about what happened. He wasn’t at the stage of being able to forgive Jacob just yet, but he thinks that’s understandable. Trust is something that has to be earned.

Earning trust has to start with an apology, something which Jacob refused to accept. And it’s a two-way street, so is it really worth for Blaine to go to all the effort to try and fix the tension between them? In just over nine months he will likely never see Jacob again. But nine months is a long time in; especially considering how long the last two and a bit have felt. However, does Jacob deserve an apology considering his attitude?

“Just leave him be for now,” Tina advises, a hand on Blaine’s shoulder making him jump slightly. He had forgotten about everyone else around him, having been so lost in his own thoughts. Reluctantly he does as she suggests, picking up their conversation where it was left.

 


 

The morning the routine is exactly the same as the previous auctions; a guard wakes them, they all get inspected - some cream being applied to Jacob’s back - before they are led through to the auction display area and chained to the floor. Jacob has positioned himself as far away from Blaine and his friends as possible, no one surrounding him.

The auction is uneventful. There is no appearance from Barry and Sebastian, and aside from a quick walk past all the groups, Blaine doesn’t see Hunter. During their break for lunch Blaine decides against approaching Jacob, knowing it’s the wrong environment to be creating any possible issues. Blaine has learnt his lessons about causing potential trouble. Plus, he is no longer completely convinced that he should apologize. Maybe it will be a better idea to wait until he could drop it in a more natural conversation, rather than purposely making the effort to simply apologize.

 


 

When they finally get dismissed for the day, Blaine’s knees object to getting up. Having decided against going to the washroom during their lunch break – a decision his bladder is currently making him regret – his legs have gone numb from staying in the same position all day. Apart from the couple of times a Dom asked him to stand, he hadn’t moved from his kneeling position. At least it’s good practice for whatever may come after training.

Most of the other subs also rise slowly, yawning in the process. It had been a long day for them all. While they shuffle their way back to their cell, Blaine walks with purpose in search of the toilet.

With that need finally taken care of, he feels much less stressed. For a moment, Blaine debates going to try talking to Jacob, but decides against it. He thinks it’s may still be too early to get through to him just yet, and he doesn’t want to make it worse by trying. Besides, he’s afraid it may only dampen his current good mood.

As he leaves the washroom he spots Jacob in the corner near his cage, talking to Josie. Blaine looks away, allowing them their privacy, and instead searches for Nick.

He is very surprised, and a little confused, when he can’t spot him. He goes over to Brittany instead.

“Hey Britt,” he greets cheerfully.

“Hey puppy!” She smiles, reaching for his hair. Blaine bends down so she can reach to twist at his curls, deciding to go the whole way and sit down next to her. Brittany doesn’t say anything more, busy playing with his hair.

“Where’s Nick? And Tina?” He questions when he remembers what it was he came over for, adding Tina on as an afterthought.

“Tina is getting a shower, you must have missed her. Nick’s gone dancing,” she responds, still half distracted by Blaine’s hair.

“Dancing? What do you mean? Who is he dancing with?”

“With fire.” Blaine has no idea what the girl is on about, as is often the case, so decides not to dwell on it. Maybe he simply got lost on the way back; Brittany could count that as dancing?

“Poodle, you promised you would let me plait your hair, like, ages ago! Can I do it now? Can I, can I? Please!” She begs, changing the topic easily.

“Sure, go on then,” he concedes, having never had anyone else style his hair before. It will make a very different look to the normal plastering of gel to hide the curls. Well, the old normal anyway.

Blaine gets lost in the feeling of the fingers running through his hair. His time with Hunter taught him that someone massaging his scalp calms him considerably, sending him close to that place where nothing seems to matter and everything is still.

It makes sense really; his mother used to play with his curls every night when reading him a bedtime story, helping him go to sleep. It wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption that his body still had a subconscious reaction to the similar motions.

He catches himself almost dropping off to sleep several times. Although the day had not been physically draining, he thinks the mental strain of the last three and a bit months, since he was marked a sub at his assessment, is finally starting to catch up with him. Getting a day of downtime apparently causes all the accumulated exhaustion to catch up.

Only another nine months of training left. And then the rest of his life serving. The thought isn’t very relaxing, and does strike a bit of a chord. This will now be his life: he won’t have many more chances like this to simply relax and chill. He should make the most of the opportunity to recharge his energy a bit.

When he hears Brittany start humming ‘The Adventure’ by Angle and Airwaves, he can’t help but join in, providing the vocals to Brittany’s backing track.

He doesn’t notice Nick until the end of the song.

“That was great, Blaine! It’s nice hearing you sing again!”

“Nick!” He jumps forwards to hug his friend, much to the annoyance of Brittany, still playing with Blaine’s hair. “Where have you been! I was worried you had gotten yourself in trouble!”

“Calm down Blaine!” he chuckles. “I had to go with a guard.”

“Oh.” Blaine breathes a sigh of relief, knowing his friend is fine.

“Blaine, what has Britt done to your hair!?” Nick exclaims, chuckling as they sit back down, having finally noticed the state of Blaine’s curls.

“I’m plaiting Blaine’s hair!” Brittany declares proudly.

“Am I allowed to help?” Nick asks.

“Sure.”

Nick sits down next to Brittany, both of them behind Blaine. The pair start chatting about something, from the few words he heard Blaine thinks it may be winter sports, but he doesn’t feel in the mood to join in and instead allows himself to simply get lost in the sensations through his hair.

“God Blaine!” Nick exclaims. “Your hair is a mess! It’s about time we get some proper shampoo in this place! Surely the higher ups don’t want your hair to feel like straw! You should ask Hunter for some better quality soap and stuff.”

“Why me? I don’t want to get myself in trouble!” Blaine replies, not really understanding Nick’s angle.

“But Hunter likes you. He wouldn’t say no, would he?”

“He probably would… And punish me for it,” Blaine decides. As confident he is in thinking Hunter likes him, he seemed pretty much indifferent during the hair removal session. If he starts acting less subby by demanding things, Blaine is sure Hunter will lose interest in him – after being punished first. And while that may not be a bad thing in some aspects, in truth Blaine would rather be with Hunter, where he knows exactly what is expected from him, than to be sent off to some novice sub owner who can’t decide what he wants from Blaine.

“But he gives you more freedom than the rest of us, so he must like you?” Nick almost accuses.

“He likes me as a slave; I’m convenient to him. Until I’m not.” Blaine can’t say he disagrees with what he is saying, even though Hunter has never said so.

“Oh,” Nick replies simply, mind whirling with thoughts.

Blaine relaxes back into the silence, the whole room having also gone quieter than before. A few people still mutter, but Blaine completely blocks out the remaining noise. That is until he hears Jacob start talking. He listens, unable to help himself. Since he is yet to apologize for being so cold towards him, he hopes maybe eavesdropping on this conversation will give him an opening to do so.

“… every night.” He hears the end of Jacob’s sentence.

“How did she manage that?” Someone questions.

“I don’t know. But she said she snuck out to keep me company. Apparently since I was chained up in punishment, I must have the potential to be as much of a fiery little devil as she was. Her words, not mine!” he chuckles. “She would keep telling me of all these plans she had on how to save everyone; wild ideas that could never happen, but nevertheless where fun to imagine.”

“Like what?” The same voice questions, sounding genuinely excited.

“Like how people would come and blow up the place.”

Blaine wonders how on earth that would actually help them all escape? Would it not just mean they would all die?

Blaine’s attention is stolen by Brittany, who accidentally painfully tugs a couple of strands of his hair, pulling them out.

“Ouch!” He exclaims, a bit annoyed but trying to hide it with a jokey tone.

“Sorry. There are lots of knots,” she replies, not sounding particularly sorry. He turns his attention back to Jacob and his friend.

“…as they wouldn’t have a building to keep us in. Or we would be able to escape while the guards where focused on stopping the flames – especially if it’s overnight, as there doesn’t seem to be many guards about.”

“But surely if we ran away they would just bring us back?”

“Not if there isn’t a building to bring us back to!” Jacob claims proudly. “And they would have to find us first.”

“Well, they would easily find us; we are all branded with the logo and all have our ID number tattooed. They always seem to be one step ahead, so they probably have some way to collect and round us up quickly…”

“But collect us up to where? This building would have burnt down. There are so many impossibilities - I think they would leave us be!”

“They could take us back to the holding centers? There is probably enough space to keep us there until they have rebuilt the house,” the other boy argues. From Blaine’s position, he can’t see who the second voice belongs to, but does think he has heard it before.

“Well, as I said, they were wild ideas. You would need to be able to communicate to someone on the outside to pull it off; and if we could do that then there would probably be much easier ways,” Jacob dismisses, but doesn’t quite manage to hide the disappointment from his tone.

“So, what else did you find out from her?” Josie questions. Until that point, Blaine hadn’t realized she was part of the conversation.

“Well. Before she left for her appointment and was labelled a sub, she said the news was predicting the coldest winter on record; so that’s not going to be fun for us as I highly doubt this place is heated. Umm… Apparently there doesn’t seem to be anyone decent running for president. All of them are highly for the slave trade, so there is no hope of it getting abolished before we are ‘trained’. But there are also rumors of an increase in groups against the trade. I doubt it’s true; that rumor had been going about at my school for years and nothing has happened so far, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

“I have never heard of anti-slavery groups before?” Someone ponders.

“Exactly, I think it is just a rumor started by teenagers in the hope it is true if they are marked a sub. I never heard an adult saying it.”

“Maybe she, um what was her name?”

“She called herself Kitty...”

“Maybe Kitty lived in the same area as you to hear the same rumors? Everyone hears different old-wives-tales depending where they live right? Maybe that was a rumor from your area.”

Their discussion is interrupted by the arrival of a guard on their usual nightly round, informing them it is lights out in five minutes, and signaling they need to go in their cages and get ready to sleep. Considering the close placing of the cages in the room, Blaine is not keen on finding out how hard it would be to find his own cage in the pitch black of ‘lights out’. With a quick good night hug to Nick and Brittany, he gets up into his cage.

As Blaine tries to drift off to sleep, the lyrics from earlier seem to keep his subconsciousness awake, playing on his mind.

‘Even if your hope has burned with time,

Anything that's dead shall be re-grown,

And your vicious pain, your warning sign,

You will be fine.’

“Life is waiting to begin,” he mumbles as he finally succumbs to sleep.

 


 

The following morning Blaine wakes up with a really sore back. He doesn’t quite understand why, as he hasn’t done anything different to normal, but assumes he must have slept funny on it. Hardly a surprise, considering the cage isn’t the most accommodating of places to sleep. It’s more a surprise that he hasn’t woken with a crick in his neck before now.

Today is the first sex session in one of the bedrooms. Maybe he will get to lay on a mattress; that might help his back.

After going about his morning routine, Blaine attempts a few stretches to try and crack his back and reduce the pain. He can feel all his joints popping and clicking from stiffness, but it doesn’t have the immediate effect he was hoping for.

Blaine gives in when the guard arrives to unlock their cell for the day, leaving as quick as he arrived. Blaine leans against the row of cages while he waits for Nick to finish getting sorted before they walk to today’s only session together.

When they arrive, the two rooms they had been told they would be using turned out to be next to each other. A guard is positioned by the open door of room P, directing everyone in there first. This room is exactly like the other bedrooms he has been in – a large bed with the headboard against the side wall, sticking out into the middle of the room, and several cabinets lining the remaining wall space.

“Right guys,” the guard starts. Blaine remembers giving this guard a nickname, but it was so long ago that he last saw him, he can no longer remember what it was. It must have been something to do with his buck teeth…

“I’ve got a quick introduction before we will be splitting you into your two groups for these lessons,” he continues. “Basically, these are your sex lessons. We don’t expect you to know much about sex – I’m pretty confident most of you were virgins before coming here – which is why we have these lessons.” Blaine suddenly remembers the name he gave this guard. Donkey, on account of looking like an ass. “I know you have had a few encounters with sexual experiences since being here, but there are lots of different ways you may be used, so we are preparing you for all of them. Like everything we teach you here, it is in your best interests to learn as much as you can. You will also be set homework from these lessons for you to complete in the evenings, and sometimes you will even get presents to help! Although we do not watch over you to make sure you do your homework, there will be consequences if we don’t see improvement between sessions.

“Ok. I think that’s everything. Now, we always split these sessions into two groups so you get more one-to-one time. Since this group is about an even mix of genders, I want the girls to stay in here with me and the boys to head to room Q next door. Someone should already be there, and for future sessions that is where you should go to. You are dismissed.”

Blaine rises to leave, Nick right behind him. There are four other boys in his group as well. Of course there is Jacob, and one Blaine vaguely remembers as Max. The other two Blaine doesn’t know the names of. One is very average; average size, average height and somehow even manages to have an average sandy brown hair. The other is incredibly skinny, and almost as pale as the white walls in the building. The pale boy is the one Jacob was talking to in the washroom yesterday.

As Donkey predicted, another guard was already waiting for them in the room.

“Come on in guys,” he greets cheerfully, sitting on the edge of the bed extending out into the middle of the room, his arm hanging casually over a box on the bed next to him. Blaine internally grumbles; no one should be this happy this early in the morning, especially in a place like this. “Hello, Hello! Come on in, kneel down in front of me. That’s it guys,” he encourages as the group cautiously make their way over to him. Something about the man makes Blaine feel a bit on edge. He is not the type of guard Blaine is used to seeing in this place.

He kneels down as far away as he can get away with, putting one of the other guys between himself and the guard.

“So, we will be starting of right at the beginning. Gag reflexes. What do you know about them?” There is definitely something not quite right with this guy. “Yes,” he points Max, who has his hand up.

“They tell us our body doesn’t want stuff shoved down our throats,” Blaine has to hold back a snicker.

“Well, you aren’t wrong. However just because your body doesn’t want it, doesn’t mean it shouldn’t get used to it.” God, this guy seems to really believe in everything he is saying. “Today will be the first step in training you out of your gag reflex. We will be taking it nice and slowly for you.

“I’ve got two nice little presents for you all today; one you get to keep and one we will keep in here. Who’s first?”

When, unsurprisingly, no one volunteers he points to Max, calling him forwards.

“What’s your ID?” He asks, picking up a stack of folders from the box.

“4762.” Max replies. The guard shuffles through the folders until finding what must be Max’s. He opens it up before setting it down beside him, the remaining folders put back in the box.

“The homework I set you today will help you improve your gag reflex, and I will explain that towards the end of our session. But before I can judge if you have been able to improve, I first need to know what your base level is.” He pulls out a neon green dildo from the box. Blaine has to do a double take to make sure he is seeing what he thinks he is. There are also lines marked even distances down the length of the dildo’s shaft.

“This is nothing to be afraid of,” the guard tries to reassure them. “We will take it slowly. 4762, I want you to open your mouth, and we are going to see how far you can take it. Ready?” Without giving Max enough time to respond, he starts pushing the dildo into Max’s mouth as soon as he opens his lips.

“Good boy, that’s it,” the guard encourages. Max just about makes it to the first mark before gagging. Straight away the dildo is removed, and the guard rubs Max’s back in a comforting manner. “You made it about an inch before we encountered issues. That’s not bad.”

Once Max has managed to get his throat back under control the guard removes his hand and starts rummaging through the box once again, this time retrieving a pen. He picks up Max’s folder, noting down the amount he managed to take.

“Ok, anyone volunteering to go next?” He says once he puts the folder back down. After a brief moment of silence, he chuckles. “Thought as much. It doesn’t matter to me at this moment in time, however you will be expected to raring and willing to do whatever your Master requests. That’s your bonus lesson of the day.” The guard twists round to the file of folders behind him, taking one of the top. “Ok, looks like we have 5226 next then.”

It take’s Blaine longer than it should to realize that’s him. Reluctantly he crawls forwards.

“Well done,” he praises, his hand under Blaine’s chin and thumb stroking Blaine’s chin. Blaine finds the gesture patronizing.

The guard wipes the dildo on the bed sheet before holding it in front of Blaine.

“Ready?” He asks as Blaine already starts opening his mouth to receive the lifeless silicone penis. “Oh, yes you are! Well done!”

The moment the dildo first passes Blaine’s lips, he instantly wants to gag. Not only does he not want to be doing this, and has everyone watching, it’s not helped by the vile smell of the object. Blaine wouldn’t be surprised if he discovered that the dildo hasn’t ever been properly cleaned. And that cannot be hygienic.

He tries hard to block out the smell, going so far as to hold his breath. That almost works, until the phallic object touches his tongue. Somehow the taste manages to be much worse than the smell.

He tries to block it all out of his mind, but makes it just as far as Max managed before he retches.

As with Max, the neon object is removed straight away and a hand starts rubbing his back in a circular motion. It takes Blaine maybe thirty seconds to stop dry heaving, and even then his throat still keeps convulsing. Although the dildo is no longer in his mouth, he swears he can still taste and smell it. It will probably take a while for his senses to recover.

“Well done, 5226. You managed an inch as well,” the guard comments as he writes in Blaine’s file. “You all good?”

“Yes Sir,” he just about manages to croak out.

“You can go back to your spot now. Next…” He announces, grabbing the next folder.

Jacob and the two remaining subs Blaine also manage an inch. Nick is the last to go, and somehow gets to just under two inches before he can take no more.

“Well done,” the guard praises as Nick finally stops gagging. It appeared that the more you managed to take, the longer it took to recover. “Right then. I now know where you all are at without any training or any force. I will test you again next week, and you should have improved.

“To do this, I’m giving you some homework, as well as your first present!” He says excitedly, pulling a small drawstring bag from the seeming endless box.

“4762. Since you went first, you get your present first. What color do you want? I think there is red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple.”

“Blue…” Max answers cautiously, worried it may be a trick question.

However, it doesn’t seem to be. The jolly guard pulls out a blue toothbrush from the bag, handing it to Max. Jolly – that seems as good a name for the guard as any.

Max cradles the toothbrush in his hands as though it is the most precious thing he owns. And in reality, Blaine reasons that it probably is. They have no control over their own bodies, so it would be nice to own something. Not that it would prevent the OSO taking it from them, but the thought is there.

“Of course, we expect you to use the toothbrush for your teeth, and if the whole group, including the girls, does their homework and improves before next week, you will also be rewarded with toothpaste. It is a group effort with the girls as well, and if even one of you hasn’t improved how far you can take the dildo, no one gets a reward, so it’s in your interest to make sure everyone improves.

“As for the homework: you will be using your brush to help control your gag reflex. A couple of times a day I want you all to brush your tongue to help desentitize your throat. Don’t push yourself too far too soon, start slowly. Pass the brush to me a moment,” Jolly requests. Reluctantly Max hands it back over. “Turn to the side so the others can see, and open up.”

Jolly pushes the brush into Max’s open mouth, the bristles against his tongue. A little over an inch in Jolly stops pushing in further, and instead rubs little circles onto Max’s tongue. Max gags a little, but not enough to make him too uncomfortable. It’s not long before Jolly stops and hands the toothbrush back to Max.

“Well done,” he praises, caressing Max’s cheek like he did to Blaine. “That’s all you need to do. After a couple of days you should be able to take the brush further and do the exact same thing. You should work at your own rate, but we do expect you to be at four inches by next week, so you will need to be proactive in practicing, hence getting to keep the toothbrush.

“I want to watch each of you doing it before we move on. So next was 5226. What color?”

Blaine picks the red brush for no other reason than it being the only color he can remember. In turn, they each practice the task set under Jolly’s watchful eye. Once they all have their brushes, Jolly gets them all to have another go as well. This time is slightly more comfortable, but still makes Blaine gag, he was just a bit better at trying to ignore it.

“Well done. If you guys want to pass them back to me for a bit, as we won’t be needing them for the rest of the lesson,” Jolly phrases as a suggestion, but Blaine knows it isn’t. He hands his brush over, and Jolly puts them all near the pillow. He cringes slightly when he sees the bristles of the brushes all touching one of another, hating to think how many germs there must now be on his brush. But then poor Nick had to take the dildo after everyone else had already had their turn. The guard doesn’t seem to particularly care about the spread of germs between the subs.

Blaine just hopes that the bed has clean linen on.

“Now, onto the final bit of today’s lesson. We have managed to get through everything quite fast, so as soon as we finish this I will allow you to leave early.” He goes back into his box and pulls out a clear spray bottle.

Blaine eyes it suspiciously, warry of anything without a proper label on it.

“This spray is going to help aid you on the next little task I have, and it will help you with your homework. It’s a little magic spray that will numb your throat slightly to enable you to take a dildo further. You need to do this so you have an idea of what it feels like when deep throating.” He gestures for each sub in turn, asking them to open their mouths before applying two squirts.

Blaine flinches when he feels the first spray, unable to help himself. He is more prepared for the second, but still grimaces. Thankfully Jolly either doesn’t notice or decides to ignore it.

Blaine tries not to show any objection; however the taste is vile, almost like a mixture of cough medicine and fish oil. Blaine keeps swallowing, trying to flush out the taste. After maybe a minute, Blaine’s mouth starts going all tingly. He tries not to panic, reasoning that it is probably the numbing spray starting to work, but it is such a weird sensation he can’t help but worry it shouldn’t be feeling that way.

“Now, it will feel weird to begin with, but after a few minutes it should settle down.” He rummages in the box again, pulling out a handful of long pink sausages.

It takes longer than Blaine cares to admit, especially considering the current circumstances, to realize they aren’t sausages, but are in fact dildos.

“You each get one of these, which for now will be stored in here. I am going to write your number on the base,” he says, picking up a sharpie from the box and writing the number corresponding to the file at the top of the pile. “As soon as I see you take the dildo to a satisfactory depth, I will give you permission to leave and head back to your cell.  1647,” he calls, having written a number on the first dildo. The pale sub moves forwards and takes the phallic item. He holds it very lightly and away from him, as if it might bite. “This will be uncomfortable, but this is the only time you have to do it, but that does mean it has to be done right. 9103,” he calls for Nick. Eventually he gets through the whole pile, giving Max the final one.

After a brief explanation of exactly what is required, they are all instructed to take the dildo. Blaine doesn’t start straight away, unsure how to go about it. He watches Nick, who although looks reluctant, does appear to be trying his hardest.

“Struggling?” Blaine jumps, having not realized the guard had snuck up behind him.

“Sorry, Sir,” he replies, dropping his head.

“The first time’s the worst. Well, maybe. You just need to go for it.” Blaine nods. He looks at the dildo cradled in his hands on his lap. Slowly, trying to delay it as long as possible, he raises the daunting object to his mouth. He takes a deep breath before parting his lips and pushing it in.

Blaine does make it further than the previous dildo, but that’s more to do with the lack of a vile smell than to the aid of the throat spray.

Keeping his head down, he lifts his eyes to the guard.

“Now that is a little disappointing, but that’s ok. You need to keep going and push past your comfort zone. Until you make it to the back of your throat, there isn’t really any tips I can give to take it further.”

The guard leaves him be, moving around to watch the next sub.

Blaine tries again, but doesn’t fare any better. He simply can’t do it, and he has no idea why! There seems to be some kind of mental block, but he has no idea what it is or how to solve it. He looks back over to Nick, who currently has the whole length of the fake penis in his mouth. Blaine is impressed; he thinks this must be the first time Nick has been so determined to complete a task.

If Nick, who spends a lot of evenings complaining about the sessions and mocking the guards, can manage this task, then Blaine should be able to; it must be easier than he is making it out to be. He tries again.

This time he is more successful, managing to reach the back of his mouth before encountering issues. He pulls the dildo out as fast as he can, coughing and gagging up a bit of a storm. When he finishes, he realizes that everyone else had stopped to look at him. He flushes red, embarrassed.

“It’s alright,” the guard calms, making his way over. “Carry on everyone,” he instructs to the group before turning his attention back to Blaine. He bends over slightly to rub calming circles on Blaine’s back causing Blaine’s coughing to start back up, although less violent this time. The numbing spray is aggravating his throat more than it’s helping with the dildo.

Eventually the coughing stops once again, Jolly giving him a few moments to gather himself before saying anything.

“Good boy. Do you need some more spray?”

“No thank you, Sir.” Blaine doesn’t particularly want to taste that again, the original spray taste only just starting to disappear.

“What happened?”

“It wouldn’t go past the back of my mouth, Sir. It won’t fit!” Blaine struggles to keep the despair out of his voice. Although he doesn’t like the task, he wants to impress the guard. He wants to impress Hunter. He doesn’t like failing.

“Don’t worry, it will,” Jolly tries to reassure him. “But it probably feels quite strange. Your body is just objecting at the moment. Now, I want you to try again, but this time, tilt your head up as you do it. It means the dildo will have a clearer, straighter path to follow. Also, you need to swallow as you push it down to help your throat take it.”

The guard stays with him as he tries again. Blaine takes his time, trying to think calming thoughts, but once again has to stop when he hits the back of his mouth.

“That’s ok, you didn’t choke as much this time so it is an improvement, just keep trying. If you need any more spray just ask, ok?” Blaine nods. “Good boy.”

He tries to relax into the praise that normally calms him, but today he is too on edge for it to have any effect. He tries once again to take the dildo, but manages even less this time. His breathing is starting to quicken, which is only making it harder for himself.

He looks back over to Nick, trying to ground himself. Once again Nick has the dildo as far down as possible, but Jolly is also with him this time.

“Well done,” he praises, quickly looking at his watch as Nick removes the dildo. “I’m afraid it’s still a little early to get away with letting you go just yet – you managed much quicker than I expected. Umm. Ok, so how about you get a bit of a head start on next week?” He pauses, probably waiting for an acknowledgement from Nick. When it’s clear Nick isn’t going to answer, he continues anyway. “I want you to try different approaches; try teasing it, going different speeds, exploring different areas. Understand?” Nick nods, so Jolly leave him to it.

Blaine brings his attention back to his dildo. Nick can do it, therefore he can too. He takes a few calming breaths before trying again. This time he manages to take even less of the dildo.

Blaine starts to get frustrated with himself. He is getting worse, not better!

Looking around the room, it appears Blaine is the only one left who hasn’t managed to get close to taking the whole thing. He tries again, pushing it in too fast and gagging himself. Jolly walks back over to him.

“It’s ok, take a breath,” he commands. “Go slow and take it in steps. Push it in a bit, then pause, then push it in further, and so on.” Blaine obeys, but once again gets stuck at the back of his mouth. “Don’t forget to raise your head,” he reminds. Blaine internally beats himself up for forgetting that tip. However, when he raises his head it feels wrong. A submissive should keep their head down, and this goes against that. And not only does he have his head up, he is almost looking down his nose to be able to see Jolly, which sits just as heavy on his conscience. “That’s it,” the guard encourages.

The position may feel wrong to the submissive side of Blaine, but it’s what Sir wants, so it’s alright. Submissives are meant to do what the Doms ask of them, so if Jolly wants Blaine to be positioned like this, then it is Blaine’s responsibility to do it; to obey his temporary Master.

This would be much less confusing if his real Master was here.

He does as Jolly suggested, taking his time and moving little by little. He does make it a little further before panicking, unable to breathe.

“Tell the difference with this time?” Blaine glares in response; this time he almost died! Ok, maybe that is a bit overdramatic, but the sensation of being unable to breathe was scary. Jolly leaves him to watch one of the other subs as Blaine makes his second attempt with the new technique. This time he must end up approaching it at a different angle, as his gag reflex kicks in much earlier, but he forces himself to take it a little further before the gagging becomes unbearable. It takes a while for it to settle down, once again dry heaving for a considerable time.

He is grateful they haven’t been given any food today. No doubt that it would have been making a reappearance if it wasn’t for his empty stomach.

“Ok,” he overhears Jolly. “I can get away with dismissing you now.” Looking up, Blaine notices it’s Nick he is talking to. “I know you haven’t eaten today, but you need to head straight back to your cell. Some point before lights out, I will send someone to deliver something to tire you over till tomorrow. Pass me your dildo, then you are allowed to leave.”

Blaine watches Nick submissively present the object, possibly the first time he has acted this way of his own accord. Part of Blaine is proud of his friend who is apparently starting to work out his place, but another, bigger part is jealous. Nick outshone him by a lot this session, and Blaine doesn’t like the praise and attention being directed towards someone else. What if Hunter changes his mind and finds a better sub than him?

His eyes follow Nick as he leaves the room, wishing it was him who was going.

He tries the dildo again, determined to get it right and show Jolly that he can also be a good sub. His haste only leads to another gagging session.

Everything is starting to ache now. His chest is hurting from all the heaving and his throat feels sore from the abrasion. But possibly what pains him the most is his self-proclaimed status as best submissive is diminishing with every failed attempt.

Blaine continues trying, his determination increasing every time someone is dismissed until there is only him and the pale boy left.

When that boy also is allowed to leave, Blaine can’t help the groan of frustration that escapes him.

“What’s wrong?” Jolly ask, sounding almost too sympathetic for it to be real.

“I’m not being a good boy!” Blaine says dejectedly.

“Why not?”

“I can’t do it! I want to do it. I’m trying to do it. Everyone else could do it. But I can’t! Why can’t I do it?” Blaine pleads, his voice rising.

“It takes a bit of practice for some people. Not everyone takes to it easily, and that is exactly why this is a lesson; to help teach those who can’t do it. So, why can’t you do it?”

“I don’t know!” He shouts back at the guard, his words doing nothing to calm the panic starting to rise. What will Hunter think of him?

“Stop it.” The guard responds, not raising his voice. But it is the calmness in the words that causes Blaine to stop and look at Jolly. “Come over here with me,” he directs as he goes to sit on the edge of the bed. He points to the floor in front of his feet, indicating for Blaine to kneel there. “This is your last chance to answer my question; what is your issue?”

“I can’t do it!” He pleads. “It hurts, it won’t fit, and I just can’t make myself do it. But I want to. honestly, I want to do it! Please help me do it!”

“You are meant to be doing it yourself… but I guess you have tried to, so there is no harm in helping, right?” Blaine doesn’t reply, deciding it is probably a rhetorical question. “First, lets get some more spray.” Blaine sighs, not wanting more but knowing it will be the only way he can. Obediently, he opens his mouth without prompting, and tries his hardest to receive the 4 spray puffs without flinching. “Good boy,” Jolly praises, waiting a few moments to give Blaine’s mouth the chance to stop stinging as much. “Try again now. Remember; head up, go slow, breathe through your nose for as long as you can, and swallow with it. Off you go.”

Blaine takes the dildo to his lips, determined he will do it. he needs to redeem himself. He gets to the point where he previously encountered issues, and by repeating Jolly’s words like a mantra he manages to take it a little further.

By a fraction of an inch.

He pulls off, looking up at Jolly with pleading eyes.

“Pass it up here,” he commands. Blaine likes it when a command is given, as it means someone else can take charge and takes the decisions out of his hands. “I think it will be better if I simply force it. You have tried your best, and I commend you for that, but I think I’m right in saying you just want it done, correct?” Blaine nods. He doesn’t think that will help, since he simply can’t do it, but it’s what the dom thinks, so it must be what is right.

He opens his mouth as wide as he can.

Having someone else in control of the dildo seems to make it worse, being unable to control the speed and depth.

Blaine starts panicking, unable to breathe. He tries to back away, but in doing so makes it more uncomfortable for himself, the silicone object pushing in the wrong directions.

I can’t breathe. He continues thrashing to try and escape the dildo. The guard doesn’t seem to realize what is happening, and instead continues attempting to push the dildo further.

I’m going to die! I can’t breathe. Blaine enters full on panic mode, feeling sweat beading on his forehead. He is trying to kill me!

Blaine doesn’t know what to do. He tries pleading with his eyes, but it goes unnoticed by Jolly. His vision starts going blurry around the edges, shapes moving in strange ways.

He thrashes his arms out, trying for something, anything, to stop this person from killing him.

He has a moment of confusion where he swears he sees Nick in his Dalton uniform, before his vision goes black and he passes out.

 


 

He comes back round in stages. First he is aware that he is now laying horizontal on the floor. Secondly he is aware of a pillow beneath his head. And finally, opening his eyes, his is aware of the guard kneeling next to him, carefully watching Blaine.

He makes a move to sit up, but the guard puts a hand on his chest to keep him down.

“Careful now. Just stay still. Do you know what happened?” Blaine shakes his head, but then instantly regrets the motion, sharp pains shooting through his skull. “Shhh, stay still.”

A few moments later a second guard arrives. This guard also kneels next to him, reaching towards him. Blaine is too confused by the strangeness of the situation to react to the hands. It seems wrong for two doms to be on their knees.

He doesn’t realize what the second guard was doing until he feels a sudden lack of pressure around his throat. He slowly rolls his head to the side to watch as the guard places his collar down on the floor.

He gulps in fresh air.

“Steady,” Jolly warns. “Slow breaths. We don’t want you passing out again.” The second guard chuckles as though there is some joke Blaine isn’t in on. Blaine feels himself start to go light-headed again, so he closes his eyes. He feels so light without his collar around his neck. He’s not sure how much of the light headiness is from almost suffocating and how much is from lack of the leather.

His brain hurts too much to think, so he drops the thought.

“Do you want to sit up?” Jolly asks.

“Please,” Blaine says, opening his eyes again. He feels hands underneath him, helping him up into a sitting position. Jolly positions Blaine to be propped up against him. The new position causes another dizzy spell, making him feel sick. He leans forwards, retching, but his stomach is still empty. Jolly rubs Blaine’s back comfortingly, but doesn’t have the desired effect.

It brings Blaine back to the present. He is sat on the floor, with two doms watching him. Without a collar. Having just passed out instead of completing the task he was set.

“Sorry Sir! I’m really sorry!” He pleads, scrambling onto his knees to face Jolly. He feels slightly woozy again, but tries to power through it. “I’m sorry I’m not a good sub! I try to be a good boy, I promise!” He didn’t realize he was swaying until there are hands on his shoulder, holding him still. He breathes deeply.

“Calm down, 5226,” the guard behind him commands. Blaine tries to obey, he really wants to, but he is worried he may have already started on the slippery slope of a panic attack.

“Please don’t tell M-Master! I don’t want to disappoint him! I want to be a good boy. I want to be the best boy he has ever had! I want.. I want.. I want to learn how to be a good boy, but it is too hard!” Blaine stutters, struggling to get the words out. “Please, please help me learn. H-help me try again. I want to do it. I ne-need to prove that I am a good boy.” Blaine says with quick breaths, looking longing at his collar laid on the floor, worried it won’t be going back on. “I don’t want Master to think I’m useless,” he shakes his head continuously to emphasize his point. “I’m not useless, I want to be good.” Too lost in his head, Blaine misses the look that passes between the two guards. “I need more time to be taught, but I am willing to learn! I’m not ready to be let out into the world yet. I need much more training, please. I want to be taught! There are still times where I have the wrong sort of thoughts, bad thoughts, but I try to push them out and be a good submissive. Please don’t tell Master. I will prove I can be better. I am willing to learn. Please don’t take away my collar! I can prove that I am worthy of being a sub-”

“5226. Tell me five things you can see.” The strange request stops Blaine’s rant in its tracks. He considers the order for a moment before replying.

“You. My collar. The pillow. The bed. And umm… the door?”

“Well done,” Jolly smiles at him, Blaine relaxing slightly at the approval. “Now. What four things can you touch?”

“Umm… My legs. You. The floor. The pillow?” Blaine reaches towards each thing he lists, but doesn’t quite touch.

“That’s a good boy,” Blaine smiles, waiting for the next command.

“A bit harder, but can you think of three things you can hear?”

“Your voice. My voice,” Blaine has to listen hard, trying to hear something else. “Breathing?” Jolly nods.

“Two things you can smell?”

“My sweat,” he replies, grimacing at the thought. “Umm. I think.. um.. is there something apple-y scented?”

“Possibly my shampoo; I think that’s apple,” the guard behind him answers. Jolly nods.

“Last one. One thing you can taste?” Blaine chomps his lips slightly, thinking about what he can taste.

“That spray?”

“Good answers,” Jolly praises. “How are you feeling now?” Blaine considers it for a moment before answering.

“Much better, thank you Sir.” He is surprised to realize it’s true. He no longer feels the sense of impending doom. “I’m sorry-“

“Shhh. No, not now. You’ve only just calmed down, lets not work yourself back up again,” Jolly jokes.

“Can… can I ple-please… can I please have my collar back?” He asks, hoping they decide he is worthy enough to continuing training.

“Oh, of course. Don’t worry about it, we only took it off so you could breathe better. Nothing more serious, relax.” Blaine does, one concern taken care off. The second guard grabs the collar, placing it round his neck much more carefully than Blaine had expected.

“Is this how tight it was?” He asks. Blaine nods slightly in response, before hearing the locking mechanism click into place. Blaine stays on his knees while the guards have a quick chat, before the second guard leaves.

“5226?” Blaine looks up, but keeping his eyes down, to show he is listening. I am calling an end to your training today, I don’t think it will be right for you to continue tonight. And it’s getting late.” Blaine nods in understanding. “You do understand that I will be telling Hunter what has happened, right?” Blaine nods once again. Although he doesn’t want Hunter to know, he understands that they need to tell him. “I don’t know what he will do, but he will probably speak to you at some point in the next few days.” Blaine nods. He is going to spend the next few days on edge, worrying about his Master’s reaction, but he is going to have to learn to get through it himself. “Let me grab your brush, then you are dismissed.” Blaine waits for Jolly to return with his toothbrush before he leaves, wanting to get back to the safety of his cage and sleep the rest of the day away.

As he rounds a corner only a few corridors away from his cell, he bumps into Nick walking out of one of the other off shooting corridors.

“Oh, um. Hey Blaine!” Nick greets, slightly surprised to see Blaine but recovering quickly. He pauses, waiting for Blaine to catch up, before they both continue walking back to their cell. “I was looking for you. What are you up to?”

“I’m going back to the cell. What do you think I was doing?” He smiles, trying to put on a brave face.

“Oh. Have you only just finished the lesson? What happened?” Nick asks, concerned.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just not as much of a natural as the rest of you,” he chuckles. Nick smiles with him. The walk the rest of the way in silence.

When they arrive, Blaine quickly heads into the washroom to grab a drink from the tap, placing his toothbrush in a cup with the others. As he re-enters the main cell room Nick turns to look at him, but he ignores the group of his friends sat together on the floor and climbs into his cage, his back to the room. He can’t help but feel guilty for not completing the lesson, and dreads to discover Hunter’s reaction.

At some point one of the graduated subs arrives with some food for them all, but Blaine declines his. He thinks Nick may have taken it, but didn’t care enough to check.

Long after light’s out, Blaine finally succumbs to sleep.

Chapter Text

The day passes in a blur, Blaine exhausted from his lack of sleep the night before. Although he did eventually fall asleep, he didn’t stay that way for long. About an hour after dropping off he woke up with a start, having dreamt that an angry Hunter was whipping his chest for failure to take the silicone penis.

The dream had put him on edge all day, waiting for Hunter to make an appearance. The guard said Hunter would be informed, so realistically it would only be a matter of time until he made an appearance. Blaine was sure of it.

When he returns from the last lesson of the day – his Song Bird rehearsals - he decides to make the most of the relatively empty washroom. Maybe a shower will help him get a better night’s sleep; he hopes that clearing his body of physical dirt will also clear his mind of mental dirt. Having gone about his business, he eyes the pot of toothbrushes on the counter, the red brush taunting him. He can’t bring himself to practice with it just yet, even though he knows that out of everyone, he needs it the most. He is worried it will cause a repeat of yesterday, and he isn’t sure he can go through that again just yet, especially not on his own. He turns his back to the counter, stepping under the cold spray of the nearest shower. He grabs the two-in-one shampoo off the tiny wall shelf next to him. It’s a lot heavier than the bottle from a couple of days ago, likely a new one. He wonders who is responsible for checking each cell has everything stocked up; he couldn’t picture a guard on cleaning duty, but someone must do it in order to keep the cells in a relatively good order.

He squirts a large dollop of the shampoo onto his hand. Blaine takes his time showering, the water not seeming to be quite as cold as normal. ‘Or maybe I’m just becoming used to this lower standard of living,’ Blaine thinks bitterly to himself. He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. Whatever the reason may be, this lifestyle is his current reality so it’s a bonus that his body is adapting.

He washes the shampoo out of his hair, and after seeing the soap spuds have turned slightly grey in color, he opts to add another squirt to his hair and wash it again. Considering the profit the OSO makes on selling him and the other subs, Blaine figures they can afford to spare him an extra bit of cheap generic shampoo. It has been a while since he last took his time showering, probably even before becoming a sub, so he decides to make up on all that missed time.

Eventually he starts getting cold, so has to reluctantly turn the shower off. He runs his hands over his body, almost squeezing to try and remove as much water as possible before having to drip dry. A towel certainly wouldn’t be an unwelcome addition to the place. As he is finishing up, Brittany enters the room, followed by Nick and Tina.

“There you are!” She exclaims, running over to him and grabbing his shoulders. “No escaping me this time! I was looking for you. Perfect, your hair is wet. I want to try plaiting it again, and maybe the water will help hold it! Sit down,” she rambles in a way only Brittany can keep up with. “Sit down there,” she commands, pointing to the corner next the door where the floor is still dry.

He obeys easily, willing to follow any simple command. Nick and Tina also join Brittany, creating a comforting circle around him.

“So, show me how to plait…” Nick starts, apparently Brittany going about teaching him. Blaine zones out, not really interested in what they have to say about his hair.

He doesn’t think it’s been long, although couldn’t say for sure, when Jacob walks in with another sub in tow.

“So, who actually is this Kitty person?” The pale boy asks Jacob, obviously continuing their conversation. It doesn’t take Blaine long to remember who Kitty is; how could he forget the girl that managed to sneak out of her cell to tend to Jacob?

“Just a girl. A cute girl I must add.” Blaine doesn’t think Jacob noticed him on the way in, Jacob talking as though the pair are the only ones in the room.

“Well, I get that she is a girl, but how come she was able to talk to you?” Blaine hadn’t really considered this before, but now it seems such an obvious question.

“The first night she explained that she got lost going back to the cells. See, she is from the newest group, the hot blonde one from the assembly?” He hears the two boys going about using the toilets. Blaine is still not yet used to the lack of privacy in every aspect of their lives. He tends to try and time it so he is always in the room on his own when he needs to relieve his bowls, and if anyone walked in on him he would stop and wait until they left. He can’t imagine having a general natter while doing it!

“Oh that one. I must agree, she is hot. Get in there Jacob!” He jokes.

“Well… that’s another story,” Jacob winks.

“Do tell!”

“In a minute. Anyway, the first night she was lost since she has only just got here, so came and asked me if I knew the way back. But we ended up chatting a bit, and I kinda really enjoyed talking to her. The next night she said she had snuck out to come and talk to me again, as get this, she thought I was really cute!”

How on earth did this girl manage to sneak out? Looking over his shoulder, Blaine sees Nick looking like he is wondering the exact same thing. On the other hand, Britt is giving him a stern look for having moved his head. Apparently she found his hair more interesting than eavesdropping on the other’s conversation.

“She was telling me loads of stuff that has happened since we have been locked up in here. So much has changed! Like, they have just managed to work out the cause of dementia, and are now working on curing it. In a few years she reckons that it will no longer exist! And there was a breakthrough a few weeks ago in cancer research; they are now really close to being able to cure them.”

A cure for dementia! That’s a massive breakthrough. No longer would people have to suffer the fear of having unknown people tending to them while their family looked on, unable to help. Blaine thinks back to his grandmother, back to when she was suffering. It was the hardest ten months of his life – including his time at the OSO – turning up to the care home every week to visit his sick relative who most the time didn’t know who he was. Seemingly perfectly fit and healthy in body, yet no idea who all the ‘strangers’ visiting her where. Sometimes, on her good days, she would mistake Blaine for his Dad and start retelling stories of his childhood. Blaine loved those days as while it wasn’t perfect, at least it was like having his grandmother back to herself. She always was happier on those days.

Blaine also thinks back to when he was seven. His best friend’s mother was diagnosed with cancer, and sadly died six months later. At the time he didn’t understand. His parents explained that Lydia’s mom had moved on to a different place, able to watch down upon her family but unable to let them see her. While Blaine didn’t really understand death, he was glued to his mother’s side for the following week, asking her to promise not to hide from him like Lydia’s mom had. Well, that was until he was invited to the park the following weekend, but the thought was there.

Imagine living in a world where those sorts of things didn’t happen? If by submissives taking on the medial tasks allows the academic geniuses to make those kinds of break throughs, it would be a very small price for him to pay. 

“Wow! That has happened quickly,” The boy replies, his loud excitement breaking Blaine from his train of thought. “What else? It’s so interesting being able to catch up on what we have missed!” Jacob finishes up, heading over to the sinks to wash his hands.

“Umm. Not much really. I think I’ve told you about all of it. Mostly she wanted to talk about what I knew about this place. What sort of weaknesses there are to get around the rules-“

“But you were there because you got caught breaking a rule… Why does she think you would know?” The boy laughs.

Blaine fidgets, his bum starting to go numb from having sat on the hard floor for so long, and turns around just enough to be able to see Jacob in his peripheral vision. The movement catches Jacob’s attention. He freezes slightly when he realizes Blaine has been in the room the whole time and probably heard everything. He takes a moment to process before replying to the other boy.

“Exactly what I said,” Jacob agrees. “I’m really the wrong person to be asking those sorts of things.”

“So… are you planning on seeing her again?”

“I would really like to,” he says looking directly at Blaine. “She is the sexiest person I’ve ever seen. I felt a connection with her that I’ve never had before.” Blaine looks away, not listening to anything else they say as they leave. He is fairly confident that those words where aimed directly at him. He can’t believe Jacob would be so cold once again. Maybe he doesn’t even deserve an apology anymore.

“Blaine...” Nick asks slowly. “Are some subs allowed out in the evening?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Blaine replies, allowing himself to get distracted from the dangerous train of thought about Jacob.

“It’s a bit weird that this ‘Kitty’ was out-and-about right? How come she wasn’t caught?” Blaine considers for a moment before replying.

“I’m not sure if there are guards on shift overnight. Maybe only one or two. When I was with Hunter I never saw anyone arriving for an evening shift...” Blaine tries to recall ever seeing anyone who could have been working overnight, but if there was he can’t remember them. “Maybe some guards spend the night somewhere on site, asleep but on call just in case? I’m not really sure.”

“So, are you saying that once we are locked away for the evening, no one is about?”

“I don’t really know. Not that I’m aware of. There are probably cameras though, so she will be punished once she is found out.”

“So if we could get out of the cell…”

“There wouldn’t be anyone stopping us from wandering around and wrecking a bit of havoc, no. But why would we do that?” Blaine asks, slightly suspicious.

“You’re right. I don’t fancy a whipping to be honest,” Nick chuckles.

“Plus, I’m not convinced Kitty is real… she may be a stray cat,” Blaine jokes light heartedly, trying to change the subject.

“I guess pain can cause you to hallucinate. What kind of name is Kitty?” Nick jokes, dropping the topic.

Still, Blaine can’t quite dampen the jealously starting to rise. As much as he blamed Jacob for what happened, he is envious of this girl who now holds his interest. He did like Jacob before that session, but after his time with Hunter he was fairly cruel towards him. And Jacob isn’t the only person that Hunter managed to alienate him from; it took Blaine a long time to start being friendly to Nick again, and he doesn’t even know the names of some of the subs he spends almost every minute of the day with!

Maybe Hunter did a lot more to Blaine than he first realized. 


 

Blaine is surprised to discover that the next day’s lesson is one he is already familiar with.

It is the same lesson that he and Nick where forced to demonstrate in as one of their first punishments. He looks at the projector hanging down at the front of the room just to confirm his suspicions. Yep, it is a lesson about gags and cock & ball torture.

Having been on the receiving end of all the items to be discussed in the lesson, Blaine zones out. He doesn’t want to know all the details about the gags, he has experienced them. He can almost feel the phantom pain from the inflatable butterfly gag that filled his mouth. And he was lucky enough not to suffer the lip and tongue press that Nick was on the receiving end of.

Blaine is grateful when they are finally dismissed for lunch. Somehow the lesson seemed a lot longer the second time around, when he wasn’t being tortured.

Lunch is the usual affair of some strange comination of a porridge like soup concoction with occasional lumps of what appeared to be proper food. Thankfully it’s edible. Blaine eats next to Nick, still trying to solve the puzzle of Jacob.

He doesn’t know what to do. He no longer wants to apologize. He would even go so far as to say he was a bit pissed off by him. Blaine only had the best intentions, but Jacob turned around and was really rude to him.

And what was he really even apologizing for? Not talking to him in the weeks after his return from Hunter’s? It wasn’t like he was being specifically mean to Jacob! He was closed off from all of them. And he was only punished because of Jacob. It was his fault in the first place. Blaine didn’t want to be punished, and he didn’t want to cum.

For crying out loud, this whole thing started because he had an orgasm when he wasn’t meant to. Simply knowing he wasn’t allowed made the release less pleasurable. Sort of. Ok, an orgasm is an orgasm, but before and after he felt bad enough to compensate for the ten seconds of euphoria!

Realistically, it’s Jacob who should be sorry. Blaine shouldn’t have even accepted his apology.

But then, he thinks back to those subs he had to speak to after Jacob’s outburst, and the reason he decided he needed to apologize in the first place.

They are all stuck in this situation together. It’s not their fault, and they shouldn’t be making it harder for each other. Yes, Jacob is annoying. Yes, Blaine is jealous of Jacob’s new love interest with Kitty. And yes, deep down he is also jealous of Kitty stealing Jacob’s attention.

‘Attention that backfired on your ass!’ part of Blaine’s brain can’t help but add. All of what has happened over the past few weeks can be traced back to Jacob.

But Blaine is not a horrible person, why has he started being one now? Jacob hasn’t been the best person to him, but he doubts he’s been particularly nice to Nick either, and Nick has been his best friend for years.

They have all become a of a victim of circumstance.

For all Blaine knows, Jacob may have been the nicest person on the planet before arriving at the sub house. They could have become the best of friends in different circumstances! Blaine has been lucky to have a friend with him, but Jacob most likely would have arrived on his own, not knowing anyone. Blaine needs to give him a bit of slack. Maybe he has an ill relative? Maybe he is the primary carer for a younger sibling? Blaine doesn’t know about Jacob’s own circumstances, being here might present more issues than just impending slavery. Stress makes people do all kinds of things.

And even if all of that is null and void, will Blaine really be able to live with himself if he knowingly made someone’s life harder when he didn’t have to?

Does he not at least owe it to himself to clear his conscience?

That being said, Blaine doesn’t like the boy.

As he rises to make his way back to the classroom with the rest of his group, he reaches a decision. He won’t force the matter, but if there is an opportunity to apologize without making it a big deal, he will take it. He had nine months to find the right time. 


The afternoon part of the lesson thankfully passed quicker. Before Blaine knew it, the projector was being turned off.

“Your hobby sessions are canceled this afternoon for an insert lesson before tomorrow. You are required in the canteen. Dismissed.”

Blaine follows the rest of the subs to the canteen, wondering what may be going on. Blaine becomes more on edge when Hunter and Stretch are there, waiting for their arrival.

Once everyone has gathered together, Hunter addresses the group. “You have got a change in your timetable from now on. Tonight is a one off as it was the best time to fit it in. From tomorrow your morning sessions will be finishing a bit earlier, and you are to report to the canteen for cooking lessons, having a slightly later lunch as well.

“This evening is simply an introduction to the kitchen so that you won’t get in the way come tomorrow. You will be in the kitchen with the May and June intake, as well as the September and graduated subs. Every group has different tasks, so it’s important to know your own duties. You’re not allowed to be an inconvenience for others.

“Pretty much, anything you make will be watered down and portioned to feed the subs here; more often than not the food you make will not be a high enough quality for us Doms; that privilege is reserved for the subs about to go to auction and those who have already graduated.

“Now, I’m going to pass you over to Sir.” He looks at Blaine, “5226, I need you to come to my office when you are all dismissed.” Without checking to see if Blaine acknowledges him, Hunter turns on his heals and leaves.

“While all house rules are obviously still in play, there are some additional ones for working in the kitchen,” the guard starts. First of all, no eating anything. You will of course be given a meal at the end of your shift, but this food is not for you to have. For hygiene purposes, this is a time where we do graciously provide you with a gown to wear. Also relating to hygiene, there will be repercussions if your personal hygiene is lacking. We generously allow a two minute grace period for you to wash before the start of the shift. Although you will not be serving your food to any Doms, it is important you do not contaminate the food that is served to us

“As for expectations. We are understanding of the fact you may never have stepped in a kitchen before, so for the first month you will not be graded on your food. During your second and third month in the kitchen you will be. Your grade is important as you are rewarded or punished depending on the mark you are given. So take as many mental notes over the next few weeks while you won’t be punished for most of the basic mistakes.”

With the introductions over, the guard leads them into the kitchen through a side door Blaine hadn’t previously noticed.

It’s not as large as he was expecting, considering the amount of people he assumes to be working in here at the same time, but it is still a respectable size. The guard quickly points out the main features of the room.

The kitchen can best be described as two rooms with a large gap in the wall between them, probably the size of a double door but without the actual door. In the center of the room is an island counter with nothing on the top. It does have cupboards below it with laminated poster attached to the door, which has writing on them. Blaine squints to try and make out the words, but he has no success. He assumes they are labels as to what is in the cupboard.

“This counter is where you will be working for the first few weeks,” the guard states, pointing to the island counter Blaine was looking at.

The surface of the counter, and the ones running around the edge of the room, are all made of metal, much like in any professional kitchen. They are spotless, a few dents being the only indication that they have been used before. Above the outside counter tops are more cupboards, also running around the room at head height.

“It is not yet your job to sanitize the kitchen, but you are expected to keep everything tidy and clean; you are of course in training to make it easier for those who do.” 

Blaine can’t spot any ovens in this room, so assumes they must be in the other area of the kitchen, out of his sight. Either side of the ‘door’ are large fridges, both reaching up to the ceiling.

It takes Blaine too long to realize that the guard is giving instructions, knowing he has missed some.

“…I want you to prepare a ham and butter sandwich each. 8263, 1674” the guard says, getting Jacob and the pale sub’s attentions. “You are to make a cup of milk coffee. Finally 1452 and 5226,” he states, calling on Tina and Blaine, “you are to make a black tea,” Blaine breathes a silent sigh of relief, having not missed his instruction. That was quite lucky. 

When the guard instructs them to start, Blaine looks over to Tina for guidance. He follows her to the center counter before Tina silently indicates the cupboard labels, telling Blaine to search for what they need. Between the two of them they manage to find the mugs, an electric kettle and a box of tea bags without too much trouble. Blaine also finds a bag of sugar and a little pot to pour some into, not knowing if the guard wants sugar in the tea or not.

Tina joins Blaine at one of the outside counters, placing three tea spoons down among the collected items as Blaine fills the kettle at the nearby tap. Once the kettle is switched on and the bag is in the cup, there isn’t much they can do while waiting for the kettle to boil. Blaine lightly leans his back against the counter, watching everyone else.

Jacob is struggling to reach something in one of the wall cupboards, the stretch on his still injured back likely to be causing him pain. Nick is in the fridge partly out of sight behind the door, and Brittany is standing at the center counter, cutting up tomatoes for a quick salad.

Although none of the tasks are particularly hard - probably just so they get a little more used to the kitchen - Blaine thinks he probably has one of the easier ones. How hard can putting water in a cup really be?

He hears the kettle pop, stealing back his attention. He watches Tina poor the water into her cup before she hands it over, Blaine repeating the motions.

He watches as the clear water rushes over the tea bag, turning it the deep shade of brewed tea. Putting the kettle back on its base, Blaine picks up a spoon and starts playing with the bag, pushing it around the mug to try and get as much flavor as possible.

Although he has been told a bag should be left alone in the cup, he disagrees. Tea bags where a mistake invention, and where intended to be poured into the cup out of the bag, so by his logic he always thinks it makes sense to move the bag as much as possible so the leaves can move around the bag. He has no scientific research behind it, but it will take a lot to change his ways. Out the corner of his eye he notices Tina giving him a funny look, her having left the cup alone. He smiles back at her, but doesn’t stop playing with the bag. 

At the very least, it’s something to do while he waits.

When he is eventually pleased with the color of the drink, he uses the spoon to drain the bag before throwing it in the bin under the sink. While at the sink he also washes up the spoon, drying it off and putting it back in the cutlery draw.

A few minutes later, Tina also is satisfied with her cup and washes the spoon. They both stand against the counter, not sure what they should be doing.

Another guard enters the room, talking to the first before dismissing him. When the guard turns to face the room Blaine is surprised to recognize her as Slapper. It’s been a fair amount of time since last seeing her.

“Right, sluts!” She shouts at the group. “Who’s first?” She questions rhetorically, looking around the room before her eyes land on Blaine. “Let’s have you.”

Reluctantly, and slightly nervously, Blaine picks up his mug and the pot of sugar, taking it over to her. He presents the mug and pot slightly away from his body, but not so far it appears he is being forceful, while keeping his head slightly down and eyes adverted.

“Nice touch,” she praises, commenting on the sugar.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” he whispers, dropping his head lower. Slapper takes the mug, also adding two spoons of sugar.

“Not bad,” she comments after taking a sip. “Not bad at all.” She hands the cup back, mostly still full. “Who else did tea? Come,” she orders.

Blaine holds out the sugar in offering when Slapper takes Tina’s cup. Once again she adds two sugars.

“Could be worse,” she dismisses. Blaine and Tina head back to their previous position as two more subs are called forward.

Despite the small task, Blaine can’t help but bask in the praise from Slapper, ignoring what’s going on around him. He didn’t get of the best of starts with her, so the positive comment seemed to have a greater weight.

“8263,” Slapper chided, suspiciously quietly, breaking Blaine out of his thoughts. “Why is there no milk? Your friend here managed.”

“I’m sorry, I ran out of time and forgot to put milk in it and-“ Blaine looks up in time to see Jacob flinch as the mug is tipped over his head, hot coffee pouring over him and down his back. Jacob hisses in extreme pain as the liquid touches the sensitive wounds.

“Well, had you remembered, maybe it wouldn’t have burned you so much, would it?” Jacob shakes his head, which earns him a slap. “You need to learn not to come up with excuses. You didn’t do what was asked. I don’t care why that may be. Had you done what was asked, you would have had plenty of time.” She throws the mug at him, hitting his nose before falling and smashing on the floor. “Be thankful I don’t want the hassle of a punishment this late.” Slapper looks up to address the rest of the room. “Clean up and then you are dismissed for the day. Any mess found in the morning will result in a punishment for you all.” Without saying any more, Slapper leaves. Blaine is about to head to the sink to pour away the remaining drink when he notices Jacob running out the door.

“Where is he off to?” Josie, the most outspoken girl, exclaims. “Now we have to clean up his mess!”

“He is probably in pain…” a different girl defends.

“He should have remembered the mi-“

“I will sort it out!” Nick almost shouts, interrupting the arguing girls. Blaine is surprised that his friend volunteered, seeming slightly out of character.

Nothing more is said on the matter, everyone going about cleaning up. Blaine offers to wash up Tina’s mug and spoon as well, while she puts everything away. Feeling in a good mood, he also offers to wash up the few items Brittany used, telling the girls to go and wind down.

By the time he has finished, although it doesn’t take long, it is only him and Nick left in the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” Blaine questions, Nick on his second trip to the bin with the broken shards of the mug.

“It’s alright, I’ve got it.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to just wipe down the surfaces or anything?”

“No, I’m good thanks,” Nick insists. “You need to go speak to the great and powerful wizard!” he mocks. Slightly confused by the dismissal, Blaine leaves him to it, reluctantly walking through the drab corridors to the Master’s office.

When he reaches the looming door Blaine takes a breath to collect himself, knocking before he loses his nerve.

“Come in,” A voice calls back, dominating in a way that makes Blaine feel like cowering. Despite his instincts screaming at him not to, he enters. “I’m sure you are aware of why I need to talk to you?” Hunter asks.

“Yes, Master,” he replies, only just louder than a whisper. “I was unable to take the dildo,” Blaine fights not to stutter on the word.

“I must admit, I was very surprised to discover it was your file I was adding the report to.” Blaine doesn’t really understand what Hunter means, but feels guilty all the same. “My guard told me you did seem genuinely upset over the incident though. Why is that?” Blaine takes a moment to consider his answer before he speaks.

“I was worried I would be a disappointment to you. I want to be good, I really do!” Blaine pleads, hoping Hunter’s apparent favoritism allows him to be let off.

“Did you know that it is very rare for a sub to fail a practical lesson?” Hunter asks, rising from behind his desk. Blaine shakes his head. “It’s because we don’t let them. We are here to teach you, and if we let a sub get away with never succeeding, then what are we really doing for them? We want to help you learn, to become the best submissive, and to do that you have to do as we ask. Very occasionally, like with this incidence, we do have to call a stop to something. And if a guard decides to call an end to a lesson, it is because they feel it is in the best interest to do so. We only do it when we believe that the submissive is not misbehaving, and there is a genuine concern to continuing. That means that on those rare occasions a guard has to go against protocol, we take a step back from our tried and tested teaching methods and consider what needs changing for the individual. As I said, it is a rare thing. So, I want you to tell me why you couldn’t do it, and what change we can make so you can.”

“I’m.. I’m not really sure Master. It was like a mental block stopping me, no matter how much I tried. I really really wanted to be good, but I couldn’t do it. And the longer it took, the more worried I was that I would be disappointing you. And then that made me more tense each time, which I don’t think helped, and I just couldn’t do it…” Blaine stops his rambling, tears threating to fall.

“Look at me, pet.” Blaine obeys reluctantly. “There is no need to be upset with yourself.” Something about the calmness of his voice puts Blaine on edge as Hunter reaches up to wipe away the few fallen tears. “I’ve already told you, I understand you were trying your best. Despite popular belief, we understand that you aren’t perfect. That’s why we are teaching you what we expect, showing you how to behave appropriately. And when you make a mistake we correct it. While your mistake may have been you unable to perform the command that was asked, I have been told that you tried to. No one here can fault that.

“We need to train you for the outside world. That will involve deep throating, and there is no way around that. But you are not at fault for being unable to perform. Had you then objected we wouldn’t be having this talk now, but you tried, so I am here to see how I can help you. You say you were worried about having disappointed me?”

“Yes, Master,” Blaine confirms, starting to feel embarrassed by the admission.

“Well, while I am disappointed that you are assuming my emotions, something that needs to change, I can understand your reaction this early on in training. Do you agree the main issue was worrying about what I would think of your failure, which then created a cycle of struggling?”

Blaine nods. He guesses that would make sense and decides to go with that being the logic behind it. Hunter knows more about submissives than Blaine, so he probably has a better idea. Hunter smiles at him, heading back to his desk and sorting through paperwork before retrieving what he is after.

“Okay. I propose that you are to report to me for practical lessons. Not every session - I do have an institution to run after all, I can’t always be there to mummycudle you – but whenever a new skill is introduced you are to have the first session with me to master the basics, before returning to the group for the remainder of the training. How does that sound?”

Blaine isn’t sure he’s convinced but answers “It sounds great, thankyou Master,” anyway.

“Good boy. I haven’t got time to fit in a session before your next group lesson, but with the knowledge that I will not be disappointed by whatever you achieve, do you think you can give it another go tomorrow?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m glad to hear it pet. A message will be sent to you when I get this change organised. For now, continue these sessions to the best of your ability. You are free to head back to the bedrooms now.” Blaine leaves without a word.

When he arrives back at the cell he heads straight to the shower. He isn’t overly surprised to find Jacob also standing under the cold spray, slightly shivering.

“Do you need any help?” He offers, watching Jacob struggle to wash his back, unwilling to ignore the pain Jacob appears to be in.

“Fuck off, Blaine!” He almost shouts. Blaine is a bit taken aback by the harshness of the words. He washes quickly, remaining silent. When he re-enters the main room, there is no one sat on the floor like most evenings, everyone apparently having decided on an early night.

Blaine decides to join them in an early night, falling asleep almost instantly.


He pads his way to the lesson the following morning, still half asleep. Although he slept the whole night, it was a restless sleep. He may as well have been awake for the amount of rest he feels he achieved.

He couldn’t even say what the morning’s lessons entailed. Something to do with a guard and powerpoint presentation. Oh, and he remembers a butter knife from the cooking session!

During the afternoon session they returned to the original room, continuing the powerpoint. Apparently it was garden maintenance.

“8262, heel,” the guard calls once they have knelt down behind the desks. Jacob rises slowly and walks to the front of the room, kneeling once again in front of the guard. “What on earth have you done to your back?”

“I don’t understand, Sir?” Jacob replies honestly.

“I’m not keen on the way it looks, what has happened to it?” The guard almost accuses.

“I was punished with the whip, and then it was burned before it healed,” Jacob responds dubiously.

“You need to take better care of OSO property, I’m not happy with the state of it,” he lifts his radio to his mouth. “Plumbing to patrol, code naught. Come in patrol.”

After a moment of static there is a response. “This is Patrol. What can I do?” A merry voice answers.

“Can someone please come escort 8262 to medical? I want its back checked out.”

“Where are you?”

“Room 58.”

“I will make sure someone is down before the end of the session. Anything else?”

“Nope, that’s it thanks. Over and out.” He clips the radio back onto his belt. “You can return to your previous position 8262. So, roses…” 


 

Jacob doesn’t reappear until late the following evening, once everyone has already climbed into their cages for the night. Jacob doesn’t speak to anyone on his return, simply climbing into his cage, turning his bandaged back to the room. It’s the first time Blaine has seen anyone with injuries actually tended to, but he drifts off to sleep before his mind truly registers the thought.

The next morning Blaine reluctantly heads to Room Q for the dreaded sexual lessons. Although he hates the droning voice of a guard lecturing to him, he would pick that over having to actually participate. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a choice. He will soon have to put all of this theory into practice out in the real world, which is an even scarier thought.

The one saving grace is being greeted by a different guard; no Jolly today. The guard – who he had previously nicknamed Voldemort on account of his tiny nose – wasn’t the nicest person he has met, but at least expected nothing out of the ordinary from the subs. Blaine knew how to act in front of him.

“First order of business is to check you’ve all been doing your homework,” the guard states, making his way over to the edge of the bed. Blaine feels a slight bit of panic rising; this lesson seeming to have come around much quicker than he anticipated. He had only attempted the toothbrush once and had not been successful. He dreads what this lesson has in store for him. “Okay, lets have 5226 first, please,” the guard requests, opening the file at the top of the pile. Well, at least he will get it over first.

Reluctantly, he crawls the short distance to kneel in front of Voldemort, eyeing up the neon green dildo that seems even scarier than last week.

“Exactly the same as last week, ok?” Blaine nods, trying to psyche himself up. Hunter will be pleased with whatever you manage. “In your own time then.” Blaine takes a deep breath before simply going for it. He knows hesitance won’t get him far, and just wants to get it over with.

He feels a slight bit of panic rising when his lips come into contact with the dildo, but squashes it down: a minute and it will be over.

In fact, Blaine decides he is going to give himself exactly sixty seconds; he can hold his breath for that long, so he is going to do it in one go.

Without daring to breathe and risk sucking in whatever the vile dildo smells like today, he moves forwards.

50, 49, 48, 47. He forces himself to go a further once more. He still isn’t at where he made it to the first lesson, but he still has time to work himself forwards.

38, 37, 36. He moves a little again, this time matching his previous attempt. He is starting to struggle for breath, the panic also making itself known, but he knows he has got this. One more attempt at going forwards and he has improved.

29, 28. Forwards again, beating his previous length.

  1. Feeling brave, he swallows around the dildo to take it further. 

It turns out this is one step too far, chocking him. He is forced to back up off the dildo, coughing and spluttering, gasping for air. Maybe he can’t quite hold his breath for sixty seconds either, as it takes him several minutes to regain his composure.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he apologizes once his coughing spree has ended.

“You have improved,” the guard starts, looking down at Blaine’s file. It’s not the first time Blaine wishes he knew exactly what was written in there. “But not by as much as we would expect. I recommend you increase the amount of practice you are doing, or it’s going to get a lot worse than just gagging. 1647, your turn,” he says, dismissing Blaine and turning his attention to the next.

The task drags on, with five more submissives to go through. Blaine doesn’t pay much attention, only enough to know that the two subs he doesn’t know have both improved, as well as Jacob, although the sub to go after him did put up a fight and was threatened with the taser. Nick, strangely, has become worse, and Jacob was just short of his last measurement.

“Well, that is disappointing. I have to say I am ashamed to be training you. We expect two inches of improvement, yet 8103 and 8263 have both managed to go backwards! That means that obviously there is no group reward. And you two are both on a warning; you are not punished for your disappointing result at the moment, but nothing else will be allowed to slip by without retribution. You have been told.

“Moving on-“

“This isn’t fair!” the brunette sub objects. When the guard doesn’t interrupt, he continues, “It’s not my fault that they didn’t practice enough! Why can’t you give us toothpaste and not those who failed?” He all but shouts.

Voldemort sighs, sounding as though he really can’t be bothered to deal with a misbehaving sub. He gets up off the bed without a word, heading one of the wall cabinets before coming back with something in his hands. He stands in front of the brunette sub, towing over him.

“I think you have already had the lesson where these are introduced,” he states, presenting an O-ring to the sub.

“It’s a gag, so what? I’m not wearing that just because I am standing up for my rights! It’s not fair that we are all punished for something two people didn’t do!”

“Put it on,” the guard states calmly, still holding the gag out to him.

“No. Absolutely not-“

“Put it on,” he repeats.

“I don’t want to…” the sub argues, although Blaine can tell he is starting to have second thoughts.

“You speak out of turn, you no longer get to speak. It is only fair, which you seem so adamant on enforcing. Also, you have now earnt yourself a whipping at the end of the lesson. I suggest you take the gag now. Every second delay is an extra ten lashes, on top of the ten you already have.”

It takes the sub six seconds to give in. He reluctantly places the gag in his mouth, strapping it up loosely behind his lips.

“And now you have just shown that you weren’t listening during that lesson. Which is another twenty lashes. I’m starting to think you have a pain kink.” When the sub doesn’t move, the guard hints, “the ring goes behind your teeth, and it needs to be done up tighter. Do it yourself, or we can add more lashes…”

Reluctantly the sub obeys.

“That’s better. Good boy,” the guard pats his head, the sub staring daggers at the guard.

Blaine doesn’t understand why no one else appears to like being praised. Or getting their head rubbed. Or anything really; they may as well learn to like these rewards…

“Since the improvement was naught and your attitudes are abysmal,” he pointedly looks at the brunette sub, “we are going to have to go back a step and repeat deepthroating with the spray.” Returning to the bed he grabs the drawstring bag filled with their dildos. One by one, he passes them out to the sub corresponding with the number on the dildo’s base.

Blaine looks at his as though it personally offended him. He really doesn’t want to go through this again. But at least this time he knows where he stands with the dominating guard. Maybe that will make it easier to follow an order. 


 

Turns out, it surprisingly did. It took Blaine two attempts as a preparation, before he finally managed on the third. No one else seemed to notice, but he did an internal celebration; he didn’t freak out!

Having managed it once, it was easier to do it again. He started experimenting a bit and trying different movements and angles.

When the guard calls them all back over, it’s the first time in a while Blaine feels he has actually lived up to how Hunter sees him.

“Finally, you all have managed to do something you were told to! Well, fucking, done,” he sneers, dripping with condescending sarcasm. “Normally I look forwards to this next part of the lesson, but I can tell it will not leave me satisfied today. Right, everyone pass your dildos back. Who improved the most?” He asks rhetorically, looking through the files once he has collected the dildos up. “4742. Oh, it’s you,” he looks at the gagged brunette. “I am so not doing that. Who was second…” he mumbles going through the files again. “1674.” Voldemort looks around the kneeling subs before his eyes land on the pale sub. “Come forwards, between my legs,” he commands, spreading his knees to give the boy room. “Your next lesson is on pleasing a Dom. For the next several sessions you will each get a turn.

“Now I know a while back you did have a session on blow jobs, but this one is going to be going into more detail. Although it’s 1674 performing, I expect everyone to watch closely and pick up tips. Every person you service will be different, so it is important you learn what different things Dom’s prefer, and also what different reactions mean so you can adjust to please your Dom the best. Okay then, 1674, off you go.”

The boy looks at Voldemort at a complete loss of what to do. Blaine can’t quite believe it either; they have to suck off a guard? He doesn’t know why the guard’s instructions shock him, but he is still surprised the OSO would do something like this.

Then again, they rent out subs who have been at the house for six months. Blaine should be more surprised that these sort of things aren’t old news to him any more.

“1674, I’m waiting,” the guard hints. Taking a deep breath, the sub seems to be mentally preparing himself before he reaches forwards to the guard’s pants. “I want you to tease first. Use your mouth and nose to nuzzle through my pants, and undo the zip with your teeth. Turn me on before you even reach for my dick.”

Blaine thinks that he would possible prefer doing it this way – he can ease himself into it – however the pale sub seems to think otherwise, backing away.

The guard doesn’t say anything, but instead pulls out his taser and lays it in plain sight on the bed next to him. He gives the sub a pointed look of warning. Reluctantly, the boy shuffles forwards again, eyeing Voldemort’s crotch as though it might jump out and bite him.

“Good boy,” the words seem to fall on deaf ears, the sub trying to block everything out. He takes a deep breath, the action visible even from behind, before closing the remaining distance. He starts nuzzling the guard like a cat would snuggle up to a human.

Blaine is grateful he wasn’t the first to go; it’s bad enough having to perform such an action, but with your peers watching as well…

“If I could afford a sub I would do this all the time,” the guard talks to himself as the boy mouths at his tenting pants. “Every morning to wake me up, every evening after I get home from work, and then again under the table during dinner. And if I had guests, I could show it off by making it suck off everyone else as well. Make it a game; if it can’t suck everyone off by the time everyone has finished eating, I will come up with an extremely creative punishment. And of course, it will thank me for correcting its failure.”

The guard seems to come back to the present, looking down at the sub between his legs.

“Now undo my pants,” he instructs, going back to his fantasy.

Very hesitantly, the boy uses his hands to undo the guards belt. Encouraged by the guards lack of interest in him, the sub also undoes the pants button before collecting himself to attempt the zip with his mouth.

“You would look so good wearing my collar,” Voldemort offers as if in encouragement. Blaine can see the sub stiffen, but still continues mouthing at the zip to try and pull it down. “I would chain you to the bed, make you sleep on the floor right at my feet. I could bring a girl back, and you would be forced to listen, wishing it was you. Or I could allow you to join in. I wouldn’t have any trouble picking up a girl when I tell her I have a slave at home.” Finally having dealt with the zip, the sub leans back onto his heels, putting as much distance between the guard and him as possible.

“You know,” the guard continues, looking at the sub with desire as he removes his belt. “You would look amazing in some frilly girl panties. The best thing about subs is that gender doesn’t matter! Fucking a male sub doesn’t make me bent; you are just a masturbation tool. And the males make better subs – they are much easier to control. It takes ages to rid the females of their bitchiness! But you aren’t bitchy, are you,” he says, reaching for the sub’s face. “No, you aren’t. Come back here,” Voldemort pulls the boy forwards, almost causing him to faceplant the floor before he manages to regain his balance.

The sub is forced to shuffle forwards until his face is inches away from the now exposed red, straining flesh. Blaine hasn’t seen many penises, and he knows porn isn’t exactly the most reliable source of information, but it is the most disgusting dick he has seen. He can almost imagine the sickly scent from this far away. Even with the bribe of using a sub, Blaine doubts this guy will keep any woman after they have seen his ‘manhood’.

“I want you to lick the tip, like a cat after milk.” Blaine feels grossed out by the man’s metaphor. “No deep throating today, I can see that being such a disappointment it turns me off, but I want you to play and tease the tip.”

The boy doesn’t make any move to carry out the guard’s instructions and Blaine can’t blame him; it looks even worse than the neon dildo!

“I… I can’t…” the boy stutters, desperate.

“Tough, you have to.” When the boy doesn’t move, the guard picks the taser up off the bed in warning. The sub eyes it warily, but still doesn’t move to take the cock in his mouth.

“Please…” the sub begs, although Blaine isn’t quite sure what he is begging for.

The guard places the taser against the sub’s arm as one last chance. When the boy still doesn’t move, Voldemort presses the button and sends him an electrical shock.

The boy collapses to the floor, tears falling without permission.

“Get up,” the guard commands, kicking the suffering boy. With a great deal of effort, he rises back onto his knees. “Are we ready to try again?”

“Please help me. I want to, I do. But I… I can’t…” The guard does not look impressed by this confession.

“No such thing as ‘can’t’ for a sub. You do everything you are told.”

The boy leans forwards, slowly, trying to delay the inevitable. He opens his mouth into a small O, but throws himself back as soon as his lips connect to the dick in front of him.

“Please. I need help to learn,” the boy begs, unable to do it without being forced.

Voldemort sighs, looking to his watch before roughly grabbing the back of the boy’s head.

He pulls to boy onto his cock, not giving him chance to prepare. After a few seconds he lightens his grip, but the boy stays where he is, with the just the tip in his mouth.

“Change of plan. Back off a bit but keep your mouth open.” Voldemort then uses his hand to start playing with himself, apparently having given up on getting a blowjob. It doesn’t take long until the guard is cumming, some landing in the sub’s mouth but most missing and leaving him covered in white strands.

He stuffs himself back into his pants, standing up.

“You don’t have to swallow if you don’t want, but you can’t spit it out until you get back to your cell. Swallowing will be covered another time. You are all dismissed.” With that the guard leaves, abandoning their files on the bed. Blaine eyes them up, but thinks better of looking through them, as much as he is curious. He leaves the room with the rest of the group, the pale sub almost running to reach their washroom.

Chapter Text

Blaine trudges to the kitchen, still not really awake despite having already been up for several hours. Last night he just couldn’t sleep, and the longer he was awake he more restless he became, resulting in making it even harder to sleep. He doubts he even managed a full hour.

When he arrives, his month is not the only group there. Maybe eight or nine subs are rushing around in those weird hospital – the subs that Blaine assumes have already completed their training and have been traded in, waiting to be sold at the next auction – as well as possibly twenty subs, naked apart from an apron and hairnet. Everyone is being watched by a handful of guards stationed around the edges of the room, specifically next to any sharp instruments.

Blaine stands with the rest of his group in the entrance, none of them really sure what they should be doing.

“Aprons and hairnets,” shouts one of the guards in the centre of the room, pointing to a pile on the table.

Blaine follows the flow of the group, picking up everything and putting it on. He yawns, unable to really pay attention to what’s going on in the room around him.

“In the first few sessions you will be shown basic skills which make up the foundation for everything else. We know it is impossible to teach submissives such as yourself hundreds of meals in a matter of months, you lot are simply unable to comprehend it all, so we aim to teach you how to cook food in order to then use this knowledge to create meals when with your Master or Mistress. We teach the basics, and you are expected to use your own intuition to better yourselves.

“Today we will be starting off with pizzas, the method of making dough being an important aspect in any bread-like dish.”

Blaine heaves a sigh of relief, having made pizzas before he can afford to focus less than usual.

 

The two-hour session passes much quicker than most of their lessons, this one having been interesting and more hands-on than the usual projector screen lessons.

At the end of the session they get a small debrief from the instructor guard, before the pizzas are thrown in a blender, blitzed up, and then mixed into a large tub of a gruel-like mixture to be served up as lunch for the resident subs.

At least Blaine now has a rough idea of the food they are being served.

 

Two weeks passed quickly, the days seeming to get easier now Blaine has settled into an easy rhythm each day. Luckily there was no Barry or Sebastian at the most recent auction, and there were no major issues with the new intake of submissives; at least, none that Blaine was aware of.

He wonders if the others are also starting to get used the routines, settling down like he has. The weeks have gone by without incident, so it’s possible.

He is yet to have been called to Hunter’s office for his one-on-one lessons, but he hasn’t had to pleasure one of the guards either, so he assumes it’s not his turn yet. Nick and Jacob are the only two left who haven’t had their personal lessons, so Blaine knows it must be his turn next week if he isn’t called tomorrow.

He heads over to one of the empty showers, the cold spray still making him jump as it first hits his back. Blaine doubts it will be something he will ever get used to. He reaches for the all-in-one soap/shampoo from the little shelf behind him, squirting it into hand and massaging into his hair. Pulling a strand of curls tightly, Blaine is surprised at just how long the curls have gotten since entering the system. He wonders if the guards will cut their hair at some point, not sure the if unruly mass will work in their favour when trying to fetch a high price at the auction.

Trying to fetch a high price for him, for his non-consensual servitude.

He runs his hand down, coming to a rest just below his collar. Although he can’t see it, Blaine can feel the burnt skin of the brand. He traces the outlining circle, his index finger following it the whole way around. He can’t follow the intricate letters of the O.S.O, but he knows they are there.

He sighs. There is nothing he can do about it now, so there is no point focusing on it. He needs to focus on the now, on the training, and worry about what the future may hold when it comes.

He rinses the shampoo out, letting the water rain down and wash over the rest of his body. As he turns of the water flow he hears a hiss. Looking around out of curiosity he spots Jacob two showers over, contorting in a strange position.

Blaine’s annoyance at the boy is forgotten as he rushes over to help.

“What’s wrong? Does something hurt?” he asks with genuine concern.

“Piss off, Blaine,” is the curt reply he gets.

“If you are in pain I want to see if I can help!”

“I said, piss off, Blaine,” Jacob replies through bared teeth. His hand comes into sight from behind his back, brandishing a blunt butter knife in Blaine’s direction. Blaine steps back in shock, so many questions forming in his mind; a leading one surrounding the blood on the knife. “I don’t need your help. I don’t want your help. I have no use for your help. I know exactly what I’m doing so if you would be so kind as to piss off it would be much appreciated.”

Blaine doesn’t push any further, retreating out of the washroom as fast as he can.

When he gets back into the main room he goes straight to Nick, finding him already in his cage for the evening.

“Jacob’s got a knife and I think he is cutting himself in the washroom!” He rushes out in a hush, not particularly wanting anyone to overhear him.

“You what?” Nick asks, sitting upright.

“Jacob’s got a butter knife, I’m guessing he stole it from the kitchen today, and I think he is using it to cut himself, maybe opening up the wounds on his back.”

“You’re joking, right? How would he have managed to sneak that out? Why would he have snuck it out!?”

“I have no idea! But he was hissing in pain so I went to see if he was ok, and he pointed the knife at me and told me to piss off.”

“We have to do something! He might kill himself!”

“I know, but I don’t know what! He said he didn’t want my help.”

“Let me go talk to him. You two have a bit of an issue with each other, so maybe he will talk to me.” Blaine nods, and watches Nick go and attempt to talk some sense into Jacob.

A few minutes later Jacob barges out of the washroom, looking around before heading straight for Blaine.

“How dare you tell lies about me!” he demands, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

“I d-didn’t!”

Before Blaine could work out what had hit him, Jacob did. Blaine ended up sprawled across the floor from the force of the slap, his face stinging something fierce. He flexes his jaw, making sure it doesn’t feel broken. He watches Jacob’s retreating form, drips of blood dropping down his back.

“Are you okay?” Nick asks as he approaches him.

“It just stings a bit, but should be fine,” Blaine says, cradling his cheek as he sits himself back up.

“I’m sorry, Blaine. I didn’t think he would have had that kind of reaction…”

“It’s not your fault; I didn’t expect it either. I think I might go run it under some cold water though,” he decides, getting up and heading back into the washroom.

 

The following day it’s time for another one of the dreaded sex lessons. They are still focusing on deep throating, but have advanced to doing so without the spray. Blaine has to hold back a snort; how long does it really take someone to learn to deepthroat? Sure, none of them are in any hurry to learn, but it’s a skill most people seem perfectly able to pick up without hours upon hours of lessons.

Although there seems to be emphasis on submissives being more than just sexual entertainment, given the amount of time these lessons take up it’s apparent to Blaine that it’s not entirely true.

“8263, you’re up,” today’s guard-slash-instructor calls. Jacob reluctantly makes his way over, kneeling in front of the guard.

Blaine still doesn’t really understand what he was trying to achieve with the knife yesterday. He is still having to take part in the lesson, and it’s not as if cutting his back is an effective way of committing suicide if he was desperate to get out. Now the only difference is having an even more painful back.

 

Or maybe that was the issue; maybe it was healing wrong and he decided that re-opening the wounds would fix it. That makes sense, right? Sometimes if Blaine had an infected cut he would pick it open so it bleeds and heels properly. That’s a thing people do, don’t they?

“If everyone wants to collect your dildos from the tub we will get going,” the guard instructs, breaking Blaine from his train of thought. Blaine goes to collect his coloured latex dick, before kneeling in one of the further points of the room.

While he still isn’t comfortable, he has found that ignoring everyone else in the room helps.

He used to suck his thumb as a child, so putting his acting skills to use he pretends the dildo is a thumb and gets to work on the item.

 

Amazingly, the lesson passes without incident, despite Jacob’s track record for acting out. Before they are dismissed the guard tests and records their improvement, now also timing how long they can deepthroat the gross measuring dildo before gagging.

“While no one has gone backwards, there is still a lot of improvement to be had. We are now going to let you take the dildos back to your room, so instead of your toothbrushes you can use these. By the next session we expect you to be holding at five inches or more for one minute. You are dismissed to head off to your hobby sessions.”

Feeling like a bit of an idiot walking round holding a dildo, Blaine decides to take a quick detour to deposit it in his cage before the Song Birds, Nick following him.

“How’s you?” Nick asks conversationally.

“Fine, I guess. Could do with a decent night’s sleep, but isn’t that always the case?” Blaine jokes, nervously fiddling with the dildo in his hands.

“A lot playing on your mind? Me too.”

“Not so much that, but I’m still not really used to sleeping in a room with loads of other people. At least no one is an awful snorer!” Blaine chuckles.

“I wonder what would happen if there was. Surely a dom wouldn’t want someone like Jeff snoring at the foot of their bed every night! Could you imagine it?”

“Oh god, no!” Blaine laughs. Whenever the Warblers would have a sleepover in the common room they would normally ban Jeff to the other side of the room, his snoring loud enough to shake the walls at times. “He would probably end up gagged or something overnight.”

“Or maybe the sub house would decide he wouldn’t be worth the cost to train him and so send him back out into the world as a free man.”

“Wouldn’t that be hilarious; ‘nope, we can’t cope with the noise, off you go’,” Blaine does an impression of a boisterous guard.

“Do you think that would actually happen?”

“What? Get rid of someone because they snored?” Blaine looks at Nick with amusement. “I highly doubt it.”

“No, I don’t mean that exactly. I mean, like. Do you think there would be a reason for them to give up on one of us, just cross out our brandings and let us resume normal life?”

“I doubt it. I think whatever the issue, Master would find a way to overcome it and continue our training.”

“You don’t think if I was to cut off my leg he would let me go?” Blaine doesn’t answer Nick, giving him a look that says it all. “I didn’t think so. I guess there is only one way out.”

“Grin and bear it and hope for a good Master at the end of it all.” Nick looks as though that wasn’t what he was thinking, but Blaine doesn’t comment on it. “Besides, Trent and Jeff are saving up for you so it won’t matter that you’re marked a sub.”

“Saving up for both of us…” Nick corrects.

“Yes, well. They stand a better chance at getting one of us,” Blaine mumbles.

“Blaine, you can’t say that! And even if that is the case, who says it won’t be you they get.”

“Because Jeff loves you, and deserves his boyfriend back so I won’t have it any other way. Besides, Master and the Smythe’s both want me, so the chances Jeff and Trent can raise enough to beat them are slim.”

“The Smythe’s?” Nick questions.

“Barry works for the O.S.O, and wants to get me as an 18th birthday present for his son.” Blaine tries to hide a shiver at the thought.

“At least an 18-year-old has got to be better than Hunter?” Nick asks.

“I would rather have Hunter if I’m being honest. It’s clear where you stand with him, and he will punish you if you’re wrong but then you are forgiven and can move on. Plus, I got to spend a week being his, and while it was eye-opening, at least if I was bought by him I would know exactly what I was getting into. Whereas there was something about the Smythe’s I just didn’t like. Barry was… let’s just say he was very forceful in his ways, and I think his son might be the same way. What’s that saying, better having the one you know.”

“Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t?”

“That’s the one.”

“I’m not sure I agree. It can’t get much worse than it can with Hunter can it?”

“I think it probably can.”

Neither of them know what to say to that, so they let the conversation drop. They walk the rest of the way to the cell in silence, both dropping off their dildos before hurrying along to the choir rehearsal.

Chapter Text

Blaine kneels patiently as the day continues, man-after-man and woman-after-woman walking around and inspecting the gathered subs. The joys of another auction. Although at least one benefit is that Blaine can use the auctions as a measurement of time. This is his fifth auction, meaning it must be the beginning of December.

The constant slight chill in the building supports his evaluation.

“Hunt’ur,” someone shouts in a strong Italian accent. Blaine looks up, intrigued by the new voice.

“Stefano!” Hunter greets, slapping the man’s back.

“Amico, è bello rivederti!”

“It’s great to see you too! So, how’s you?”

“Bene, bene. Business andando a gonfie vele - umm… is much okay. Much vendite, much money!” The curly-haired man replies in broken English.

“That’s great news! How can I help you today?”

“Looking for schiavo’s to train home. We not have as big now, so need to, umm… out- out- esternalizzare closely ten?”

“Outsource? As in, buy some slaves from the USA to train in Italy?”

“Sì, sì, Outsource. Need to outsource closely ten schiavo’s for mia schiavo-casa.”

“I think we can afford to lose a few subs to a fellow friend’s business, maybe… closely cinque. I know China currently has a surplus if you can afford a trip over there as well. Umm, Cina much schiavo’s.” Hunter responds, hands gesturing as he tries to communicate. “What are you looking for?”

“Cina? I look soon in Cina, allora…” The pair continue walking, out of Blaine’s earshot, leaving him with plenty to ponder while the auction viewings continue around him.

 


 

“5226, Hunter requests your presence today,” the guard informs him as they arrive at room Q for their sexual education sessions.

Him and Nick share a look of dread as he turns around in search of his Master. He knew this day was coming and was lucky he got away without for so long, but it doesn’t make him feel any better.

Walking down the white corridors feels like he’s about to walk to his execution.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a blow job,” he mutters to himself. It’s not as if he hasn’t done blow jobs before, it will just be the first time with a real cock.

The idea terrifies him.

“You’re gay, you should be excited to see a dick!” Apparently the constant close capacity of five other naked males, twenty-four hours a day seven days a week, has made him immune to the thought, having taken away the mystery and anticipation.

Hunter’s office door looms in front of him, the handle taunting him.

It’s fine. Master is here to help you. You are not in trouble. He tries to reassure himself as he slowly raises his hand, poised to knock.

One. Two. Three. Deep breath and knock.

The few seconds it takes to get a reply don’t do anything in reducing his nerves.

“Come in.”

Blaine quietly opens the door, slipping in as if to not draw attention to himself.

“Ah, pet! I was wondering when you would get here. It’s been a stressful morning, I can’t begin to describe how much I have been looking forwards to having you arrive!” Hunter smiles at Blaine, shutting his laptop and piling everything to one side. He pushes his chair back from the desk, turning to sit sideways. “Over you come,” he instructs, pointing to the floor in front of him.

Blaine follows the command without realizing, his mind however reluctant. Once he has kneeled, Hunter starts rubbing Blaine’s head, helping him relax.

“Good boy. How have you been getting on?” Blaine considers the question for a moment, picking his words carefully before answering.

“I’m settling back into the flow of the house. I’m finding routine easy to follow, the introduction of the cooking sessions disrupted me a bit but I am now back on track.”

“That’s great to hear. However that wasn’t quite what I was asking. I meant, how have you been getting on with your sex training?” Blaine stomach drops at the not quite telling off. Of course, why would Hunter ask about his routine?

“Oh, umm. Alright, I think, Master.”

“That’s good to hear. Any more panics?”

“Nothing major,” he answers, shaking his head slightly.

“Good, good. Why don’t you show me what you have learnt?”

Hunter’s crotch is at Blaine’s eye level, the shadow from the desk making it seem even more daunting than he imagined.

'It's just a bit of skin,' he tries to reason with himself. 'A foot is also just another part of the body, and there is nothing scary about a foot.'

'Unless it's about to go down your throat,' another part of his brain argues. 

He really needs to learn how to shut that part of his brain up; it would make things a lot easier in the long run.

Gearing himself up he takes a deep breath and shuffles in closer to Master.

As Blaine undoes the pants’ fly, he is met with bulging red fabric, almost like a warning sign. 

Not wanting to reveal the flesh beneath, he delays by teasingly playing with the fabric, gently adding and removing pressure from his Master's bulge. Blaine is surprised by the softness of the fabric and quickly gets carried away with simply feeling it. 

"While that's nice, pet, that's not the lesson you have been taught, is it?" Blaine jumps, having forgotten about Hunter's intense gaze.

"No, Master," he replies, still unwilling to take things a step further.

"A lot of the time Masters just want you to get them off quickly, and therefore unless you have been shown otherwise, you should assume you are to go about your task as quickly as possible. And since today is a lesson-slash-test on deep-throating, you had best get to that part. As you can see, I don't need much foreplay today," Hunter nudges his bulge in emphasis. 

Blaine hates being reminded of what he does to this man, even if it should be a compliment. It's what he is there for after all.

Blaine watches as Hunter reaches into his pants, pulling out his member.

'Fuck. That's a big dick,' Blaine curses internally. Without a tape measure it is hard to tell, but Blaine is sure it must be bigger than the dildo he has had to practice. 

Although maybe it's just perspective.

Thankfully despite its length and girth, Hunter keeps himself well groomed. Reaching up to touch the exposed flesh, Blaine is surprised by how different it feels touching someone else's dick as opposed to his own. The angles feel all wrong, the texture bumpier from the prominent veins. It's the first dick he has touched that isn't his. Fascinated by the different feeling, he runs a finger down the length of the cock, finishing at the tip.

"Not everyone will be quite as impressive as me," Hunter boasts, making Blaine jump slightly. "But while I would love to give you the time to explore, I do have more important stuff to be getting on with. This is your last warning about hurrying up."

Knowing he is starting to push his luck, Blaine tentatively takes his Master's manhood into his mouth. 

'It's just a thumb. A big bumpy thumb.'

He's not fooling anyone with that thought.

He starts slowly, just getting used to the tip. A real dick is a lot different to the fake dildo he has been practicing on, and having already tested Hunter’s patience he doesn’t want to disappoint his Master further.

He starts taking the dick further, feeling it reach the back of his mouth before stopping again. He takes a few moments to get used to the new feeling, exploring with his tongue. He is surprised by the allure of Hunter’s scent, finding the manly musk comforting. He feels a hand start to run through his curls, relaxing him.

Feeling as brave as he could ever be in this situation, he pushes forwards the final distance, feeling the cock slide down his throat. He swallows with it, keeping his gag reflex in check.

“Good boy,” Hunter praises, his hand gripping Blaine’s hair. Being guided by Hunter, Blaine is pulled backwards before being thrust forwards again, this time bottoming out right away, Blaine’s nose hitting Hunter’s pubic hair, breathing in the dominant man’s aroma.

Continuing to be guided by Hunter’s firm hands, Blaine feels the man getting close.

“I want you to swallow for me,” he says, more composed than any man in his place has the right to be.

Blaine hums in affirmation, the vibrations seeming to be Hunter’s last straw as he erupts down Blaine’s throat, not giving him the option to spit even if he wanted to.

“Good boy. After a rocky start that was ok. Although you need to work on doing it yourself, I’m not always going to have the patience to direct you.”

“Thank you, Master,” he nods, taking on the feedback.

“I want you to clean me off while I finish my work,” he instructs, turning back to his desk. Blaine shuffles so he is in front of Hunter again, and knowing his Master didn’t mean a tissue, he gets to work on Hunter’s spent cock.

They are interrupted by a knock at the door. Blaine goes to pull off but Hunter pushes him back forwards.

“Come in.”

Blaine tries to ignore the fact that he now has an observer. It’s not as if it’s something they haven’t seen before, and he is mostly hidden by the desk.

“We have a complaint, although it’s caused a bigger issue for us,” Blaine hears the visitor announce.

“Uhhhggg,” Hunter groans. “Pet, off.” More than happy to follow that order, Blaine pulls of Hunter’s dick. Deciding he is best out of the way, he heads to the corner he started to consider as his own, crawling the short distance so not to draw attention to himself. Hunter pulls his underwear up, but leaves his pants undone. “Do I want to know?”

“Probably not, but you need to.”

“Go on then,” Hunter replies reluctantly, turning to sit behind his desk and finding a pen and paper.

“We had a complaint that the hired 4803 acted out. The woman apparently thought it was her duty to punish 4803.”

“Okay… What was the reason for the acting out?” Hunter writes it down, still listening to the guard.

“It was 4803’s first time with a woman, and apparently she was being reluctant.”

“They always say that; I think they just get off on punishing a new sub. What was 4803’s response?”

“I don’t know, she was and still is unconscious.” Hunter drops his head onto the table with a big sigh. “4803 is currently with the medical team, but they are saying she might need to be taken to intensive care.”

“We can’t take a six month sub out of the house to the hospital. We haven’t the resources to do that.” Hunter replies, seeming to be regretful about the fact. The guard just sighs resignedly.

“Is it head or body that’s the issue?”

“Both; she is pretty bashed up.”

“Urgh. I don’t know what to do. Does she have a track record of acting out?”

“Not beyond the normal, and she has been fine since her first month,” the guard recounts. Blaine is surprised by the amount they all remember about each sub. There must be over a hundred of them in the house, yet the guard knows all that about one sub.

Maybe he checked before he came over.

Hunter stands up, pulling up his fly as well.

“Let’s have a look in her file,” he says, walking over to the cabinets the far side of the room. He pulls out a what seems to be a relatively thick file, flicking it open. “No reports on her behavior; even Pet here has a report!” He says, nodding his head at Blaine. Blaine ducks his head, not wanting to be further reminded of how he ended up here.

“Should this be said in front of him?” The guard asks, weary.

“Nah, he’s fine. It was all a misunderstanding, wasn’t it, boy.”

“Yes, Master,” he mutters, slightly ashamed.

“You actually are a good boy, aren’t you?”

“I try to be, Master,” he replies honestly, not really sure where the answer came from. Hunter chuckles affectionately.

“I know you do. Anyway, 4803.” He turns back to the guard. “No reports, but she has got a few comments. Let’s see… punished for talking out of turn in her first week, but nothing rebellious spoken. Struggled with sexual entertainment…”

“Maybe the woman was right then,” the guard says, almost as though he was disappointed.

“Mayb- no, hold on. Worked hard to improve.” Blaine swears he hears the guard let out a breath he was holding in. “No acting out at presentation, keep a close eye on her wellbeing.” Hunter shuts the folder, his finger keeping his place as he sits back behind his desk, scanning it as he continues talking. “It’s possible this is her trying to find her way out. It’s always concerning when they go quiet after the presentation.”

“If I may interject, I don’t think that’s the case with this one.” The guard looks as if he has more to say, but doesn’t know how.

“Fair enough. This is not fair on her if the woman was actually exaggerating. This renting out the submissives is more hassle than it’s worth, I swear. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want her to be a write off, but unless medical can do something I don’t think we can help her. We just can’t afford to send her to intensive.” Blaine is surprised by Hunter’s reaction; he seems genuinely upset that he can’t help this sub.

 “Can I… Can I offer a suggestion?” The guard asks cautiously.

“Please, do.”

“I’ve still got holiday to take, right?”

“Telling you the truth, I have no idea without looking it up.”

“I think I do. I could, maybe, take my holiday tomorrow, and guard her at intensive.”

“You what?” Hunter asks, confused.

“The main issue is taking a guard out of the rota to sit in a hospital right?”

“Among a few other issues, but that is one, yes.” Hunter answers, curious as to where the guard was going.

“Well, I would be willing to use my holiday to babysit. As long as you give me permission to do so, I’m allowed to borrow equipment for personal use, so if you sign the form for me, I will borrow equipment and sit with her.”

“Why would you do that?”

“She’s my 5226. I want to buy her when she is up for auction, and I can’t do that is she becomes a write off.”

“She’s your pet,” Hunter replies knowingly, looking at Blaine.

“I’m not sure; I will have to check the regulations. The woman who had her, is she still here?”

“Of course.”

“I best speak to her then. When do you finish tonight?” He asks, running a hand through Blaine’s hair, taking most of Blaine’s attention.

“Six.”

“If you are willing to hang about after you finish, we can try and see if I can get it sorted.”

“Of course I will. Should I go get the woman?”

“Yes please.” Blaine hears the guard leave, his eyes shut as Hunter continues to play with Blaine’s curls.

“You had best get going too, pet.” Hunter says. “I know we didn’t quite finish your session, but I think that will be all we get done today.”

Blaine stands, pleased his session was cut short.

“I will probably call for you next week as well, and we can have an extended session to make up for it.” Blaine nods. “Off you go,” Hunter commands, accentuated with a smack to his ass.

Blaine hurries back to his cell.

Chapter Text

“The rest of your lessons for the day are cancelled, you are dismissed back to your cell,” the guard announces only an hour into their second session with no further explanation.

Confused, Blaine follows his fellow sub’s back to their room.

“I wonder why we have been sent away,” Nick ponders.

“It’s great, isn’t it! An afternoon off… or, well, whatever time it is off. We should have a pamper session!” Tina joyfully remarks, almost with a skip in her step as she hurries on ahead.

“Do you think they would know if we didn’t go back to the cell? We could go for an explore around the place. See if we can find the executive lounge where all the guests go!” Nick schemes excitedly.

“That would be Hunter’s office,” Blaine interrupts, stopping Nick dead in his tracks. “Besides, we were told to go back to the cell, we can’t detour in case they do come and check on us.”

“But you’re Blaine, you’re Hunter’s pet. You are basically allowed free rein! If someone was to catch us, you could just tell them Hunter sent you.”

“Master is under enough stress at the moment, I don’t need to be giving him more. Besides, your assumption is wrong,” he teases, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t have a free pass from the rules, if anything I have more rules, just some of them override the standard ones.”

“You’re a boring fart,” Nick jokes, nudging Blaine playfully.

“Hunter has got himself into a fart,” Brit pipes up from nowhere, joining the group.

“What do you mean?” Nick questions, prodding for more information.

“Hunter is in a bit of a stink.”

“And you know this how?”

“It’s obvious.” Nick and Blaine share a look before Nick decides to drop the topic. Their Brit is a bit of an odd cookie, but they love her for it.

“Tina wants to have a pamper session in the spare time,” Blaine tells her.

“Ooh, goodie!” she bounces like a little girl before running off to catch up with Tina.

“She is too good for this place,” Blaine says sadly, feeling guilty even though he had nothing to do with her enslavement.

“Are you saying that we deserve this?” Nick asks, only half joking.

“I think the world needs submissives. Maybe you and I deserve it, maybe we don’t, but you have to agree that Brit defiantly doesn’t.”

“Someone will fall for her innocence and take her home to look after.”

“Or maybe someone will fall for her innocence and take her home to exploit.”

“Well, I hope you’re wrong.”

“So do I, Nick. So do I.”

 


 

“Blaine, can I ask you something?” Nick approaches him skittishly a few hours later. Blaine has been half dosing in his cage, shivering slightly from his earlier shower.

“Sure,” he replies, rolling over to look at Nick.

“Umm, so… you know you had your lesson with Hunter yesterday…”

When Nick doesn’t continue Blaine gestures in prompt.

“I had mine as well in the class. And, it did… didn’t go all that well.”

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Blaine says, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the cage. He had noticed Nick’s voice was a little hoarse, but had put it down to a bit of a sore throat. He hadn’t considered that Nick is the only sub he hadn’t seen have that session.

“It… it wasn’t a big issue. It’s more that… I haven’t improved.” Nick is quiet for a little while, Blaine not sure what Nick wants him to say. “Umm… I was thinking… how did your session go?” he asks, seeming to change his question last minute.

“It was fine…” Blaine answers cautiously.

“I was thinking…” he delays, playing with his fingers nervously. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

“Come on Nick, spit it out. We were roommates at Dalton, there isn’t much I don’t know, or haven’t heard happen under the bedsheets late at night!” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“You heard that!” Nick goes bright red. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I’m a light sleeper. But anyway, that’s in the past, what did you want to ask today?”

“You are, you’re good at doing what you’re told… and we have been told we need to improve our skills…” he delays longer. “I was wondering, could you show me how you do it please? As I really can’t take it any further. But that’s not really an option.”

“Are you asking for help to deep throat?” Blaine asks lightly.

“Uh, I guess, yes,” he replies sheepishly. Blaine chuckles at the normally outspoken and confident boy.

“I’m not the best, but I can try. Let’s go into the washroom as it’s probably emptier.” He jumps down from his cage and makes his way through, Nick grabbing his own toy from his cage as well.

Blaine is surprised to see Brit following Nick through.

“She wanted to join us,” Nick offers in explanation.

“That’s fine,” he replies as the pair sit down with him under the showerhead in the corner; the floor dry. “So, what is it you want help with?”

“Blaine,” he grumbles, “I’ve already told you.”

“Not what the actual issue is, did you?” he says, his mind running through their conversation to make sure he hadn’t forgotten something.

“I can’t deep throat?” Nick responds, confused.

“No, I mean, what is the reason you can’t?”

“I don’t really know. I just can’t take it without my mind objecting. How do you manage?”

“Truth be told, I don’t really. I’m not really sure,” Blaine tries recalling his last session with Hunter. “I used to suck my thumb as a child, so I try to pretend it’s just a longer, girth-ier thumb.”

“I never sucked my thumb. I didn’t like the feeling of having it in my mouth.”

“Oh, okay. I guess another part is that I want to do it to prove to Master I’m good enough.” Nick gives him an incredulous look. “Okay,” he chuckles. “I guess that won’t work. What about just giving it a go now, and I can offer changes?”

“Okay,” Nick replies nervously. He fiddles with the toy, embarrassed to be doing such an act in front of his friend, so Blaine changes tacktics.

“You know what, how about I show you and you can try to copy?” He lifts his own dildo to his lips, just working the tip.

“Urgh,” he coughs. “This needs a rinse first.” From being left in the cage the last few days and exposed to moisture, bits of dust and dirt had stuck to the silicone.

Returning from the sinks with a now wet but dust free toy, he at least succeeded in reducing some of Nick’s nerves.

“It’s nice to see you being the untidy one for once,” Nick chuckles.

“It was a slight oversight I will admit. It’s not something I had thought would be an issue.”

“Nick only knows because he had the same issue the first time!” Brittany spills.

“Hush you, I did not!” Nick chuckles.

“That’s not how I remember it. And I have the memory of a dolphin – but that’s because I am a dolphin. Or a unicorn. Some people say I am a unicorn.”

“I think you should be a uni-phin,” Blaine jokes.

“I would be the sexiest uniphin in the ocean!”

“I agree, I think you would be, Brit. Anyway, Blaine. Show us these amazing skills of yours that Hunter is hiding away to himself!”

“I guess, maybe try starting with just the end and get used to that in your mouth, and then push it a little bit deeper and get used to it in the new location, but while concentrating on the bit still at the front of your mouth.”

 

Blaine is surprised at how quick Nick is able to start progressing. He doesn’t really understand why Brit is there, having taken the dildo to its end on her first go, but she is providing great moral support for the two boys.

The door opens as Nick has the dildo at his personal best, but the noise creates a distraction in his concentration. He splutters, gasping for air.

“Breathe slowly,” Blaine instructs, rubbing Nick’s back in a calming gesture. He looks up to see who the intruder was, but adverts his gaze the minute he sees it’s Jacob.

He decides it’s best to avoid the guy completely.

“Was that any better?” Nick asks.

“Much. You were only a few inches from the end. A few more days and you will be outshining even the best.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to outshine you in Hunter’s mind.”

“I am no way the best! The whole reason I’m with Hunter for these sessions is because I freaked out.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that’s what happened…”

“Oh no, that’s not good,” Brit interrupts, making Blaine jump slightly. The girl can sometimes be that quiet that he forgets she is even there. He is about to ask what exactly is not good when he spot’s Jacobs’ back, it becoming apparent what Brit had noticed.

she gets up and approaches Jacob.

“You need a magic fairy to come help you clean that up. Can I be your magic fairy?”

“Huh?” Jacob replies confused, not yet used to Brit’s individuality. She however takes it as an invitation to continue, pulling the shower head of the wall.

“If you get a cut you need to keep it clean, or it goes all green because Leprechaun’s can get in it. Then you might need a white angel to clean it out. I’m a pink fairy, not a white angel, but I can try.”

“Okay…” he replies, too puzzled to say much else. Nick gives Blaine a look, but he just shrugs. He hasn’t got a clue what Brit is on about either. Instead he gathers up the three discarded dildos, taking them to the sink to clean as much as is possible with only the cold water.

“What did you do?” Brit asks Jacob, Blaine only just able to make out the words over the running water.

“Nothing.”

“Lying kills fairies, and this fairy is trying to help you, so don’t lie.”

“I got in trouble.”

“A whip wouldn’t have done this. These are reopened wounds.”

“Okay, I reopened them.”

“How? Did someone do it for you?”

“No. I snuck a knife out of the kitchen. There was one on the side as we left that someone had been using.”

“Did you boil the knife first?”

“What? No. Where would I get boiling water from?”

“You need to sterilise a tool before using it in a medical procedure. It’s common sense.”

As if opening cuts with a knife is common sense, Blaine thinks as he and Nick leave the washroom to go catch up with Tina, leaving Jacob and Brit to it.

 


 

Blaine takes his time walking back from his second session with Hunter. It was much less eventful than the last one, but still no more enjoyable doing almost the same deep throating. Although he did feel a sense of satisfaction when he got Hunter to cum before he had finished his teaching.

Thankfully it also means he has a few weeks now until he needs to worry about being called the next time.

“Hey, babe,” he hears a female voice say. As he turns the corner he spots the suspected owner of the voice. A female guard is in the gentle embrace of a male.

“Hey darling,” the male replies with a kiss.

“The kids asked this morning if we can do something this weekend. Both of us have the Saturday off. What do you say?”

“Sounds good. We can leave the slave at home and go out just us four. It will be nice to go out as a family for once. What do they want to do?”

“They don’t know. I’m thinking Adventureland?”

“Sounds good,” the guy replies, planting another kiss on the woman’s’ lips. Blaine decides to go the other way so not to interrupts the guards.

“Oi!” the woman shouts, having spotted Blaine’s movement. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, um..” he stutters.

“Come here boy.” Sheepishly, knowing he has done nothing wrong but feeling guilty all the same, he approaches the couple, kneeling down to show his submission.

“Why are you out of your cell?”

“I’m on my way there now, Ma’am.”

“Why aren’t you there already?”

“I only just left Master, Ma’am.”

“What’s your ID?” The man asks, intrupting the female in her integration.

“5226, Sir.”

“Oh, that’s just Hunter’s one, Darling,” he says to her.

“Huh. Who would of thought that was Hunter’s type,” the woman snickers. “Off you go then. Don’t dawdle.”

Blaine high tails it back to his cell.

 


 

Blaine limps down another white corridor. Despite them all looking the same, he knows his way around the building like the back of his hand.

He listens to the pad of his bare feet on the floor. The heat making them slightly stick to the lino.

He opens the cell door when he arrives, knowing it will be empty. Its occupant left yesterday; although Blaine doesn’t make a habit of seeing them off. It’s not something he likes to see.

He quickly picks up any bits of rubbish, pushing the bed pad back to where it should be before grabbing his mop and cleaning the floor. Luckily the previous occupant was calm, too scared to create too much mess.

He leaves the door to the cell open to allow the cleaning fumes to vacate. As he is about to start on the second room, movement catches his eye causing him to stop.

He looks up at what caught his attention. Before him is a stunning boy, standing tall and proud.

His porcelain skin almost reflects the bright artificial lights of the building, but somehow it just makes him even more striking. Blaine looks up to see his bright blue eyes, staring directly back at him. A slight draft blows his styled chestnut-brown hair. Blaine could drop down to his knees then and there.

He notices that beneath the boy’s styled clothes, he doesn’t wear a collar like Blaine does. Remembering his place, he reluctantly drops his eyes.

“Hey, I’m a bit lost. I was after the rest room. Could you point me the right way please?” the boy asks with the most magical voice. The old part of Blaine’s brain points out that he would probably be a countertenor if he were to sing.

“Back the way you came, then it’s the third door on your right, Sir,” Blaine replies after a moment to collect his thoughts.

“Oh, I must have overshot it! Thank you… um, what’s your name?”

“There is no need to thank me Sir, it is my duty to help. And I answer to anything, but my ID is 5226.”

“Well, okay then. Thank you Mr I-Answer-To-Anything. My name’s-“

 

He is woken up by a loud scream.

Chapter Text

Blaine jumps, unsure the source of the sound.

Without the lights on in the cell it’s hard to make anything out. Without windows, and therefore no natural light, it’s hard for Blaine’s eye to adjust and make anything out. He gives himself a moment to allow the green glow of the emergency lights to provide enough to make out shadows.

He can here others moving, having also been disturbed by the scream.

“Who was that? Are you ok?” someone asks.

There is a loud slam of metal against metal, followed by a slightly quitter grunt.

“What’s happening?” Someone else asks.

“Who cares, just let me get back to sleep!” a grouchy girls complains.

Another slam, followed by a pained grunt.

“Shut the fuck up!”

“Piss off,” Jacob replies, followed by another slam. Blaine pushes open his cage door, swinging his legs over the side as if that’s going to help establish the source of the sound.

“What are you doing?” one of the boys asks in horror.

“None of your business,” Jacobs replies abruptly. Thankfully however, it appears the attention is enough to stop Jacob from continuing whatever it was he’s up to. After a couple of minutes without any more commotion Blaine shuffles back into his cage, deciding that the commotion has seemingly come to an end and he needs to sleep in preparation for whatever the next day has in store.

Once again the silence of the cell is only interrupted by the gentle sounds of the sleeping occupants.

 

The light turns on, rudely awakening Blaine to face another day. He groans as his eyes are subjected to the harsh artificial glow.

Would it really be that hard to invest in a gentle alarm system?

Despite his internal objections, he gets up and goes about his normal morning routine. Nick joins him in the washroom as Blaine starts brushing his teeth, grateful for the new addition of toothpaste.

“What the fuck happened last night?” Nick asks in a yawn.

“I have no idea. Was it defiantly Jacob?”

“I think so. Maybe he is having a bit of a mental breakdown. I’m surprised we are all still sane as it is so far,” he emphasises with air quotations.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s not exactly the Ritz in here. We don’t have free will, we are being trained to be a fuck doll, and our lives are over yet everyone treats it as though it’s the natural order of things.” He lists them of on his fingers. “And you know what the worst thing is? No coffee!”

“Oh, don’t do this to me Nick!”

“Do what?”

“Remind me of coffee! Everything else is manageable, but coffee is an issue.” Blaine jokes. They continue their individual morning routines, neither of them quite awake enough to have a full on conversation this soon after waking up.

“You know, I had never really thought of it that way,” Blaine comments after a bit of consideration.

“Thought of what what way?” Nick replies with a mouth of foamed toothpaste.

“That our lives as we knew it are over, yet no one outside of the system seems to care. We have gone from teenagers with massive aspirations; one of us could have been the next big inventor, someone else could have found the cure for all known diseases. Yet all we will be now is an extension of someone else. Before I was labelled, even though I had suspicions I would be, I looked at subs like I looked at other pets. You never really consider what submissives have been forced to give up to enable others to prosper.”

“Uggh, Blaine. Too early for this kind of deep thinking!”

“I have been focused on becoming the best sub, doing what I am told to be perfect for our Master. That it is for the greater good and our sacrifice is appreciated. But it’s not, is it?”

“Blaine, while I am over the moon you are having this revelation… but can you wait and do it when I’m awake?”

“Although it is proven that submissives make a big difference to society,” Blaine continues as if Nick hadn’t said anything. “It’s unfortunate for us that the system has become the way it has, but there is potential. We have ended up in maybe a less than ideal situation. But you have got to play with the hand you have been dealt right? We need to prove that submissives are underappreciated by being the best, most committed subs ever, right?”

“Blaine, stop. Please stop. Forget what you just said, and we can continue the slavery is wrong conversation this afternoon, okay?”

“Okay…” Blaine replies, not hearing what Nick just said.

 

“Hello all you beautiful sluts, time for another day of training!” the guard greats, way too loud for the morning.

But then, maybe it isn’t really the morning. He assumes they are put to bed overnight, but then he was surprised when he first went outside with Hunter and it was evening. He has been in the system long enough for time to start losing its meaning.

The wide-awake guard unlocks the cell door, standing there to watch them all leave.

“Hey, hold up there.” Blaine and the rest of his group stop, unsure who the guard was talking to.

The guard approaches Jacob.

“Are you limping?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jacob replies, the first time Blaine has seen him be willingly responsive.

“What on earth happened?”

“I tripped.” Blaine has to hold back a scoff at the unbelievable lie. The guard doesn’t appear to have listened to his answer anyway, picking at his nails as if he has something better to be doing. And to be fair, given how young the boy looks, maybe this is just some lame old weekend job to pay for his car.

“I’d best take you down to medical. The rest of you; room 17.” Blaine internally sighs, changing his train of thought. He forgot it was household maintenance this morning.

 

Blaine is incredibly relieved when the song birds session finished. They had finally learnt the lyrics and choreography to Baby I’m yours (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKZ7o7EXHFM) and it was the first run through putting them together. Having been told they would be performing the song for an audience at the next auction, Rachel had been even more… Rachel than normal. She kept making them run and re-run the entire song until Blaine could no longer differentiate between a box step and a time step. Which is saying something considering they are moves from two completely different styles of dance.

He goes straight to the showers when they get back to the cell at the end of the day.

“I love a good workout,” Britany exclaims, following Blaine into the showers. “It really gets the blood pumping and the energy flowing.”

“And your heart racing,” Blaine pants, letting the cold water flow over him. He knows he will have a chill later, the temperature in the building defiantly having dropped a few degrees from when he was first enslaved.

And that’s what it is, really. Enslavement. The more time he has spent pondering the wider his perspective is becoming. Maybe Nick was on the right lines from the beginning.

Sure, it probably is for the wider good of the world, but why should it be him and Nick and Tina and Britany and the rest of them that have to give up their lives? Their history lesson told him that it wasn’t always an involuntary servitude, so why did it have to change? Maybe he would have still indentured himself if he had the choice, but it is wrong of the system to take that choice away.

Besides, the expected obedience and poor standard of living aren’t exactly a nice thank you for his service.

It doesn’t change his position or his priorities though. This new thinking is scary and confusing, and he still has a ‘job’ to do and a ‘boss’ to impress. It just happens his job wasn’t by choice and he is being paid with housing and food rather than money. Some people who come into difficulties end up doing a job that wouldn’t be their first choice either. At least Blaine hasn’t got to worry about being fired.

 

Jacob returns to the group a few days later, some form of cast around his foot. From his limp Blaine suspects Jacob may have caused some serious damage, however aside from the brace Jacob gets no special treatment or additional slack. During one of their new physical sessions Jacob often gets reprimanded for being too slow or falling behind, including a couple of corrections from the taser. Blaine doesn’t think it’s exactly fair; he is trying his hardest to keep up. Although part of him can’t help from feeling like Jacob deserved it, he did injure himself.

 

As they kneel down to have their lunch Blaine can tell something is up with Nick. He gets the impression that Nick has been wanting to say something all day, but as of yet hasn’t bought it up.

Blaine watches as Nick looks around the room, seeming to case out all the guards on duty. He looks on edge, and all Blaine wants to do is help him relieve the tension building up, but knows it is better to wait for Nick to come to him.

Instead he focuses on his food. They cooked bacon and broccoli rice during their cooking session, and for a nice change they have been allowed to reap the rewards of their labour.

His first bite is almost heavenly, a massive change from their normal goop of blended food. He used to refuse to eat broccoli, always leaving it on his plate if his mom served it up, but now it might as well be chocolate cake for how much he is enjoying it. His first piece of veg in several months is very welcomed by his body. As stupid as it sounds, he already feels better and more alert from a few mouthfuls. He’s confident it must be some form of the placebo effect, but he isn’t going to correct his subconscious.

And who doesn’t like bacon? It’s his best meal in ages.

“Blaine?” Nick whispers, seeming to finally be speaking up. “Is the room monitored?”

“Yes…” Blaine responds, looking around at the guards in plain view.

“No, I mean. Is there cameras and microphones?”

“I have no idea. I wouldn’t be surprised, but I haven’t noticed any.”

“Okay. Hopefully there isn’t. I need to tell you something.”

Blaine waits for Nick to continue, but he has gone back to his own food.

“You have to tell me something…” Blaine hints.

“Sssh, not so loud. Wait for the guard to move,” Nick replies, his voice so quiet Blaine has to strain to hear it. Once the guard moves on Nick continues. “You remember Jacob talking about a kitten?” Blaine nods. “Well, Kitty actually does exist, and is an actual person. I met with her a few days ago, and she had a lot to sha-“ Nick stops abruptly. Blaine is about to ask for more when he spots the guard in ear shot.

“So, Kitty is real?” He asks when the guard continues on his round.

“It seems so. I didn’t get to speak to her for long, but she has asked if I could meet her tonight in the guest toilets. You probably know this place a lot better than me, so I was wondering if you knew where that is, and how I can sneak out to get there? Will you tell me?”

Blaine considers it for a moment. He doesn’t know where Kitty proposes to meet, but he can have a good guess. And telling Nick wouldn’t really count as aiding and abetting, so it wouldn’t really be disappointing Hunter. Right?

“You’re going to try no matter what I say, aren’t you?” Blaine asks, knowing the answer. His suspicions are confirmed by Nick’s shrug. Blaine checks for guards before responding. “I have passed some guest toilets when I have been with Hunter, although I don’t know if they are the only ones in the building. And I don’t know exactly where as I wasn’t specifically paying attention to where we were going, but it was only a couple of corridors away from the auction space. Which makes sense when you think about it. I can’t help any more than that though I’m afraid.”

“Thank you ever so much, that is really helpful. I think I can remember where the auctions are, some hopefully I can work it out from there. What about any security to worry about?”

“I haven’t noticed any, but that’s not to say there isn’t guards on patrol or CCTV. They no longer lock the cell door, as you have probably noticed, and to my knowledge most the corridors are in the dark. Master would hit a load of switches when we arrived, one of which turned on the staffroom lights so I’m assuming it may have done the rest of the building as well. That’s about all I know though.”

“Thank you ever so much, Blaine. I will let you know what happens with the meeting.”

“Please, don’t. I am putting myself on a need to know basis. I don’t think I could flat out lie to Master, so please don’t put me in the position where I might have to.”

“Are you sure?” Blaine nods. “Okay. Need to know. Thank you.” Nick launches into a hug.

Before Blaine is aware what’s going on, they are pushed away from each other.

“Are you going to stay away from each other or am I going to have to teach you a lesson to help you remember?” the guard from the morning warns.

“Sorry Sir,” Nick replies. They continue the rest of their lunch in silence, without touching each other again.

 

Nick was true to his promise and didn’t tell Blaine what happened at his meeting. And while part of Blaine is curious as to what he found out, his conscience is glad he doesn’t know. While he is confident he could tell his Master a white lie to protect his best friend, he doesn’t want to push his guilt any further. He wants to help his friend, but he simply can’t sacrifice his morals to do so.

On the plus side, his and Nicks’ friendship has repaired with leaps and bounds.

pat-a-cake pat-a-cake, baker's man.

Bake me a cake as fast as you can.

Pat it and shape it and mark it with B.

And bake it in the oven for baby and me.” They play, trying to go as fast as possible and probably annoying everyone else. It reminds Blaine of his first day in the sub house, where they sang the song while waiting for something to happen. It’s amazing how much has happened in such a short amount of time. Blaine has been through a rollercoaster of emotions, from falling out with his best friend to making new ones. Having his first sexual experience to spending time cuddled up with naked girls.

“Do you think Jacob has nits?” Nick interrupts their umpth-teenth run through of the clapping game.

“Huh?”

“He has been scratching his arm for the last ten minutes or so.” They all turn to look, Britt and Tina having also heard.

“Gross. I hope he doesn’t pass them on to me,” Tina complains.

“Nits are in your hair. Maybe its bed bugs biting his arm.” Brittany inputs.

“I hope not, or we will all get them.” Blaine shivers, dreading the thought, before returning his focus to the game of pat-a-cake.

 

It’s the night before another auction, and Blaine is stressing. The ‘Song Birds’ are performing tomorrow and he doesn’t feel ready. The rehearsal earlier in the day went about as wrong as possible. Britt landed wrong on her ankle and is unable to perform, taking out their lead solo dancer. Jessica, one of their stronger singers, appears to have come down with tonsillitis so has been pulled out of the group for good by orders of Hunter. And to top it off, they have been informed that if they disappoint the prospective buyers at the auction there will be severe consequences including some tools Blaine is trying incredibly hard to forget.

He could really do with a warm shower to relieve some of the stress, but of course he is stuck with the ice cold water now streaming from the pipes. It must be December now, and the O.S.O. doesn’t appear to be in any hurry to turn the heating on.

“Where’s Nick?” he asks as he joins Tina, snuggling up to her for warmth.  

“I had assumed he was in the wash room. Was he not with you?”

“No… he wasn’t. I thought he was behind me on the way back from our session. Maybe Hunter has called on him.”

“I doubt it. Hunter is only ever interested in you.”

Brittany joins them, starting a conversation with Tina and leaving Blaine to worry.

What if Nick is in trouble? What if he has gotten lost? What if he needs help, but Blaine is stuck here with nothing he can do to go and investigate?

Or, what if there is?

Chapter Text

The auction day starts out no different to normal, a guard turning up to do an inspection before leading them down and chaining them up in the auction viewing room. However, Blaine can’t help his fidgeting, the nerves getting the better of him. He keeps running the Song Birds choreography through his head on repeat, making sure he knows every step and every lyric. He doesn’t know when their performance will be, which doesn’t help settle his stomach.

What if something goes wrong? If he gets stage fright and forgets the lyrics? Would Hunter be disappointed in him, or the group as a whole? Would he punish Blaine for being an embarrassment? Or maybe punish the whole group for a little slip up? What if what if what if…

“Hey, Blaine. I can hear your mind working from here. Stop it,” Nick interrupts in a whisper. Blaine smiles, his friend knows him well. He always works himself up before a performance, and Nick was always the only one who could spot his tells. However, nothing can really stop the build up of nerves.

By the time they break for lunch, Blaine feels he is only a couple of butterflies away from exploding.

“Blaine, breathe. It’s no different to any of the impromptu Warbler performances we did every week at school.”

“It is though, there is a lot more riding on this! They were just about bringing music to the senior common room. This is about proving we should be allowed hobbies, that we are more than just mindless robots. That we can be worth more and valued within this world. It’s about impressing Master and impressing the guards and impressing our future owners. There is more to answer to than an annoyed Dean, and much more creative, and painful, punishments lying in wait.”

“It’s not that big of a deal Blaine. The music was approved by Hunter himself, so we can’t get in trouble for that, all the rehearsals have been overseen, so if there was an issue we wouldn’t be performing, and it’s the first time this has happened so there is no expectations. As long as everyone does as they should there will be absolutely nothing to go wrong!”

“Oh my god,” Blaine facepalms, “What if someone goes of script and a riot starts out?! And they will blame it on us and then we are all in trouble–“

“Blaine, be reasonable, that’s not going to happen. Even if someone was planning something – and they aren’t, trust me – they wouldn’t do it today as they would need to case the area to formulate a plan.”

“Wait, Kitty is planning something?”

“Not today, Blaine. Calm down.”

“But-“

“No. Stop. I thought you were getting better recently, where has that Blaine gone?”

“I’m nervous. You know how I get when I’ve got a bit of stage fright.”

“Yes, you try to micromanage everything to the tiniest of details. You want to be a good sub right?” Blaine nods. “Well a good sub doesn’t micromanage. They let their Master sort it all out for them. So whether you are currently in a sub mindset or a Blaine mindset, you need to relax. Okay?”

“Okay. I think that makes sense.”

Still, Blaine can’t help himself from rerunning the choreography in his head over the rest of lunch.

 


 

Thankfully he wasn’t left on edge for long, as he was collected after lunch for their performance. Nick was right, and everything went without a hitch. At the end Blaine looked over at Hunter, feeling tremendous relief when he saw a prideful smile directed his way.

All the performers are returned to relevant pens, allowing the rest of the auction day to continue as normal.

Blaine is surprised when they are released at the end of the day, assuming this would have been their first auction with the dreaded renting out, where those unable to buy a sub could borrow one for the evening, trying it out before said sub would appear at auction. But after a few hours back in the cell with no one coming to collect anybody Blaine finally turns in for the night, concluding that he must have heard wrong as to which month that would happen in.

 


 

“Can I ask a question?” Nick asks a few weeks later.

“Sure,” Blaine replies as he sits down in front of Brit’s cage, leaning back against the bared door.

“What was Hunter actually like as a Master?”

“Huh?”

“When you spent that time with Hunter and his sub, what was he like? What was it like being in a house as a sub?”

“To begin with it was scary being on my own with him, I felt so vulnerable. But by the end of the week when I had mostly worked out where I stood, and entered a bit of a truce with Sophia, it felt almost… freeing? That’s the best word I can think of. It was a bit odd though as there was no protocol, Sophia said it’s the first time she has seen that as a punishment, so I’m not sure anyone really knew what I was meant to be doing. And I guess Master wasn’t really that bad. I feel like if you do as you’re told he’s a nice man. However, if you slip up you will be punished. Although I’m not sure I would say the punishment fits the crime, and you are pretty much guaranteed to slip up every so often.”

“What was it like eating actual food for every meal again?”

“I didn’t get to. Sorry to burst your bubble,” he adds when Nick’s face drops. “Several of the meals I had while I was here, and at Hunter’s we had this dried paste that you added hot water to, not dissimilar to what we have here.” He decides not to add the night he had pizza, not wanting to re-live the experience of being fed by hand.

“Well that’s a shame. I’ve got to ask though, and I’m sorry for having to do this,” Nick looks genuinely guilty. “But did you learn anything that may be, you know, useful for me. For my need-to-know operation?”

Blaine hesitates for a moment, split between wanting to help his friend but not wanting to disobey his Master.

“The days we experience aren’t the same as the sun’s.” He hesitates for a moment, deciding telling Nick isn’t technically against any of Hunter’s orders. “And the staff entrance didn’t appear to have noticeable security.”

“Where is the entrance?”

“I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t…” Blaine looks around, worried someone might be listening or the room might be bugged. “I don’t… Master wouldn’t.. I’m sorry Nick.”

“Hey, no worries. I might not understand your loyalties, but I respect them. Thanks for sharing what you did. That will be a massive help for the kitten,” he calms Blaine with a wink.

Blaine loves his best friend to the moon and back.

“Anyway, talking of mysterious other woman. Tell me more about this Sophia. Was she cute?”

“I guess. She probably was pretty hot before becoming part of this system, before her scars where formed and future plans altered.”

“If she has been hurt, and only in Hunter’s care, why wouldn’t she want you to take her place and to come back here herself?”

“Better the devil you know was her argument. Hunter may not be the best Master there is, but there is much worse out there. At least she knows what is expected from Hunter and can notice his triggers. Learning everything about a new Master is hard.” Nick doesn’t reply straight away, absorbing the train of thought.

“Anyway, it’s getting late. I’m going to use the bathroom before lights out.”

Agreeing his friend has the right idea, Blaine follows him to the wash room.

There are two others in there; a girl brushing her teeth and Jacob in the shower. While washing his hands he notices a strange movement out of the corner of his eye. He notices Jacob pouring the chemical concoction into his open mouth.

Their eyes meet. After a moment Jacob turns around and spits out the shampoo.

“Uggh, gross.” Jacob mutters as if to himself, but clearly loud enough to be heard. “I need to stop showering with my mouth open.”

Blaine pretends to believe Jacob did it as an accident.

 


 

The following night, Blaine can’t sleep. It’s long after lights out, but in an area without heating and winter around the corner – or maybe even outside, he has started to lose track of the days – he’s too cold to switch off.

He hears a quiet scraping of metal, and sits up in alert, trying to see what threat there may be. In the dark glow of the emergency exit light outside, he recognises Nick’s figure slipping out. Deciding this probably comes under his need-to-know requirement, Blaine lays back down and tries to get back to sleep.

 

He doesn’t know how long he has been asleep for, but when he wakes it’s still dark. He knows he can’t have been asleep long when he notices Nick’s cage still open, apparently yet to return.

A few hours pass, Blaine unable to sleep with a cramp now setting in. Concern starting to grow for his friend and wanting to get a bit of warmth into his joints, combined with a bit of insanity from sleep deprivation, he decides to go hunt down his friend and check he’s okay.

It’s different wondering the halls in the dark. Although no one walks around on their own normally, there is still an eerie sense of quiet, as if even the walls have gone to sleep. It vaguely reminds him of walking around the halls of Dalton in winter, when it’s dark before he leaves his afterschool club. But at Dalton he could normally here the sounds of clocks ticking, the creaking of the heating pipes expanding, and sometimes the far away mutter of other students. But here, it’s a different kind of quiet.

That is until he hears the faint muttering of voices.

At first he worries it’s a guard who is about to catch him, landing in unimaginable trouble, however another voice speaks up, one he has grown up hearing.

It’s a relief to know Nick hasn’t been caught.

“-your friend do? Maybe someone part of the resistance could receive the same punishment!” a female says.

“I doubt it. It’s the first time that punishment has been given to my knowledge.” He hears the familiar voice of his friend.

“Why was it given then?”

“The guy has a sweet spot for Blaine. He claimed it was a weeks punishment, but I think it was an excuse to spend more time with Blaine, and start training him to fit perfectly into his life. It’s clear to all of us that Hunter’s gonna buy him.” Having creeped closer, Blaine could hear the concern in his friends voice.

“I still think we need him on our side. Someone so close to the enemy would be such an assist!”

“NO!” Blaine jumps back at Nick’s reply. He hopes there are no guards in the area as they defiantly would have heard. “I told you, Blaine wouldn’t be up to doing it. One, he isn’t in the mental place to help us, two, he struggles enough to tell me what he does, he wouldn’t be able to completely join our side, and three, as much as I love the guy, his loyalty is to Hunter. If Hunter asked Blaine to share what he knows about any uprising, he would. He needs plausible deniability; at the moment he is a guy who gossips with his friend. Telling him any more would put him in an awkward position, and I don’t want to do that to my best friend.”

“Can you ask him again? He might have had a change of heart. And if not, what do you lose by asking?”

“My best friend! We have only just rebuilt our trust, I feel pushing this on him will mean I lose what I have regained.”

“Please, just ask.”

“I-“ But Blaine will not get to hear what his friend has to say as Nick is interrupted.

“Well, well, well, who do with have here?” Blaine freezes, thinking the guard is behind him. “Two little piggies out of their bed. Well the big bad wolf is now here, and my word is he angry.”

Blaine isn’t proud of what he does next, feeling guilty for leaving his friend, but he sees no point in handing himself in if he hasn’t yet been spotted. As quietly as he can, he runs away, saving himself just like the third pig in the children’s story.  

He gets back just before the morning lights turn on.

 


 

A week passes with no mention of Nick. Blaine keeps checking the post in the canteen, expecting to walk in to see Nick being whipped, however the post remains empty. Somehow Blaine knows it means the punishment is much, much worse than a 100 lashes would be.

As time keeps passing, Blaine starts getting more and more concerned for his friends safety. He will admit he wouldn’t normally notice if he didn’t see Kitty, however he doesn’t come across the girl either.

His mind is temporarily taken of his friend when Hunter arrives at the end of the day’s last lesson.

“You guys are in for a rare treat,” he announces. “I know you will have all lost track of the day, so I am here to tell you tomorrow is Christmas day.”

A few whispers start up, everyone – including Blaine – is shocked at the knowledge.

“Quiet!” Master shouts. “You should all know better than that by now. But luckily for you all the Christmas spirit is on my side.

“I am sure you will be pleased to hear that tomorrow you have the day off, and I expect you to spend it having showers and pampering yourself. We will even be turning on the hot water for the showers as your Christmas present!” He waits in case of a reaction, but this time everyone remembers better. “And finally, you will get to see your families for one last time on boxing day.” This time people can’t contain their excitement.

“I can see my Mom?”

“I hope both my parents show. They were beginning the divorce process.” “I’m sure they will, they wouldn’t miss this chance no matter how messy of-“

“I can’t wait to find out if my sis passed her driving test!”

“I wonder if they bring my dog-“

“My foster parents-“

Hunter lets the conversations continues for a moment before calling everyone back to attention.

“There are of course some rules. We will be sending out a full list for you to study tomorrow, including topics you must avoid, but most importantly to remember you are expected to uphold the usual rules and expectations of this organisation.” With that Hunter exits.

Chatter starts up again almost instantly, everyone seeming to be excited about the prospect. But somehow, Blaine knows this will be one of their hardest tests yet.

Chapter Text

The morning of Christmas starts no different to any of the others over the last few weeks. The lights blink on, uncomfortably bright. Nick’s cage remains upon and unoccupied. And Blaine heads through to the washroom to start his day.

However, when the morning guard arrives she doesn’t lead them to the first session of the day, and instead deposits a hamper filled with bottles. The brown haired boy Blaine is yet to learn the name of walks over to the hamper deposited on the ground.

“Shampoo, conditioner, body wash,” he announces going through the basket, “Toothpaste! A couple colors of nail varnish, nail clips, hair brushes and combs. And the rules.” Blaine has to say, he is impressed by the array of items. Looking at his neglected nails he decides it will be nice to give them a bit of a trim.

“Ooh, purple!” He recognises Brit’s voice pipe up, having not noticed her making her way over amongst the crowd.

Once most of the people have dispersed, Blaine decides it's his turn. Most of the items have been taken, with not enough for one each so knowing they will have to share, but he picks up one of the laminated pieces of paper with the rules on. He knows the sheet is important and needs paying attention to.

Returning to sit next to Tina, he starts reading.


 

Boxing day expectations.

These rules must be adhered to during the event. Failure to do so, including suspicion one of these rules may be broken in the immediate future, will result in withdrawal of said individual from event. Depending on the severity of the misbehaviour, additional punishment will be executed, including but not limited to lashes, solitary confinement, and visitors sentenced to the submissive rehabilitation program. These orders take priority over any given by guests on the day.

1) All standard house rules are expected to be upheld to the highest standard.

2) Any orders by staff are to be followed immediately.

3) The event will be held in the display hall. Subs may not leave this designated area unaccompanied by a member of staff. Guests are only permitted in the hall and entrance corridor. Subs are not permitted in the entrance corridor.

4) Guests must be addressed as Sir or Ma’am as appropriate, no matter previous personal relationships.

5) You are expected to remain subservient to all doms. This includes not covering yourself, kneeling, speaking only when spoken to, and not making eye contact.

6) You are not allowed to discuss training. If asked directly you must broadly along the line of ‘it’s good’. If probed for more information inform guests to direct these questions to a member of staff.

7) Physical comfort is limited to a short hug at the beginning and end of the event. Submissives may not seek out contact. Inappropriate contact is the discretion of staff.

8) You may not speak negatively of the house, organisation, or staff.

9) You may not devolve sensitive information. This includes but is not limited to: the history of submission, the structure and running of the house, or training practices.

This list is not exhaustive.

N.B. Submissive rehabilitation is a program in which corrupted subs (or mislabelled adults) are retrained in basic principles in order to serve government facilities such as prisons indefinitely.


 

“This isn’t going to be easy or fun, is it?” Tina asks.

“No, I don’t think it will,” Blaine agrees.

“Is it wrong of me to not want my family to come?”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t want them to see me the way this forces us to present ourselves. And I’m scared to screw up. It’s one thing to be whipped, it’s another to sentence your loved ones to this life.”

“While I can’t disagree with you, I feel I can’t turn down the opportunity of seeing my family one last time.” No matter how much Blaine’s friends can raise to buy him and Nick, he knows in his heart he will never be returning back to Westerville.

 

There has been several different reactions to the rules. Lucy, Brittany’s friend from the Song Birds, wasn’t fussed as according to her she knew her foster parents wouldn’t make the trip over to visit – they hadn’t for any of the other kids they had who were labelled.

Max decided he was going to see if he could boycott the event and remain in the cell, as even if his family turned up he couldn’t bare to see them, much like Tina’s thinking.

The brown haired boy claimed he will do as he is told, wanting his parents to believe he is happy with his station in life so he hasn’t got to worry about them worrying about him. (Yes, it took Blaine a little while to follow that line of thought).

Josie started plotting ways to send out coded messages.

Jacob simply exclaimed “Fuck this shit,” throwing the paper on the floor.

And Brittany said: “I’m sad Nick will be missing out on this.”

 

No matter how many massages Brittany offered to give him the previous day, nothing could settle the nerves in his stomach on boxing day morning.

What if he said something he wasn’t meant to? the list wasn’t exactly specific. What if he forgot a rule? What will his family think of him?

What if they don’t show?

Due to the air of quietness in the cell, Blaine recons everyone else must be having similar worries. He really wishes Nick was here. His friend would be able to lighten the mood. Blaine just hopes he will join them in the display hall – whatever area that is.

After several hours pass, enough for Blaine to start wondering if it was some cruel prank, two guards appear.

“It’s you sluts’ turn now,” the male starts, “I shouldn’t have to, but I am going to remind you of the main rules. There is to be no talk about what goes on in here, nor about any secrets of the system. You must not leave the hall unaccompanied. And of course, all usual rules are still in place.”

“Failure to comply will result in immediate withdrawal from the event,” the female guard adds. “And further punishment related to the severity of the infraction. Are there any questions?” When no one appears to have any, the male guard speaks up.

“Okay then, follow me.”

 

As they approach the hall, Blaine feels like he might be sick. He can hear the sound of indistinct chattering. Turns out the display hall is the area they are taken to on auction days.

“1452, you are in booth one.” Tina is sent in the direction of the cube usually holding the newest group of subs. “1674, booth two.” Numbers are called out and subs are sent off, until Blaine registers it’s his number next. “5226. Booth six.”

Blaine heads towards the cubicle with a six printed on the back wall. He is surprised, in a good way, to see his Mom, Dad, and brother sat in the area, casually chatting to a female guard. he recognises the voice of Slapper, but tries to swallow down the lump in his throat that it causes. He drops his eyes as approaches the ‘booth’. Cooper is the first to notice his arrival.

“Squirt!” He shouts, bounding over and sweeping Blaine into a hug. “I’m so glad to see you. Although I am sad to note that while you got the short gene, you certainly aren’t shorter than me everywhere.” Blaine blushes, unsure how to answer. Fortunately he is saved by his Mother.

“Cooper!” she scolds sharply. Cooper lets go, allowing Blaine to walk the rest of the way to the cubical. Next he is embraced by his Father, who offers a short ‘manly’ hug with accompanying pat on the back. His arms are quickly replaced by those of his Mother, who hugs him tightly. Blaine breaths in the strong sent of her perform, wanting to remember every detail of the last time he will see his family.

“You sit down Squirt, I’ll stand since they have only put out three seats. I guess they only expected parents to come.” Cooper says once Blaine and his Mom break apart.

“Thank you Sir, but I’m fine kneeling.” Blaine can tell the title makes his family uncomfortable, however he can’t risk dropping it with Slapper listening to the whole conversation.

“Oh. Umm, okay.” Cooper replies, thrown of by the idea of Blaine being used to kneeling, seeing how easy it now is for Blaine to fall into the position. His brothers comment reminds Blaine of just how naive his family was.

“So Blaine, how are you?” His Mom asks.

“I’m very well, thank you Ma’am.” Blaine keeps his head dropped and eyes adverted, as expected of him, but he makes sure to keep his families faces in the top of his vision.

“Blaine,” his Dad starts, “You haven’t got to address us with those titles. We, umm, what? Give you permission to call us Dad, Mom and Coop.”

“Thank you Sir, however if it is alright with you, I am more comfortable using titles of respect.”

“If that’s what you need to do.”

“I love it, my little brother finally not in a verbal boxing match with me!” Cooper jokes, but Blaine can tell his heart isn’t really in it.

“Cooper, pack it in,” his Mom hisses.

“It’s fine Ma’am, it’s great to know nothing has changed,” Blaine smiles.

“How are you getting on?” His brother asks.

“Very well I think. It feels as though I have finally found where I fit in, Sir. Even if Dalton was good for me.”

“He has softened the boss’s heart a bit. Never seen him with such a soft spot for someone, he isn’t exactly hiding the fact that this boy here is his favourite,” Slapper comments, reminding him that this whole exchange is being monitored.

“That’s good isn’t it, that you’re his favourite, right?” His Dad asks, concern poorly hidden.

“Yes Sir. Master looks after me well. Everyone does,” he adds, tilting his head to Slapper. His family doesn’t need to know exactly what being looked after has meant to him and his fellow subs.

“Have you been able to make any friends?”

“Yes Ma’am. Everyone is really nice. Its great living with so many like minded people,” who are all going through the same brainwashing process he adds in his head.

“Your friends from Dalton have been able to raise a significant amount for you and Nick so far, but we are going to keep trying to get more to make sure we can afford to get you both.”

“Thank you, Sir. But you should make sure you can get Nick before worrying about me. Master will look after me.”

“Blaine, we promise we will get enough for you both.” Blaine simply nods, wanting to leave his parents in the belief they will have him back. Also, he isn’t sure if that would cross into the ‘sharing sensitive information’ category.

“Speaking of Nick, where is he Blaine?” A voice asks. Blaine turns around to spot his best friends Mom, his Dad stood behind.

“Hello Ma’am. I’m sorry, I believe he must be busy.”

“You are required in the office, boy,” the guard tells Blaine. Blaine’s heart stops. What has he done wrong? He takes a collecting breath before excusing himself.

“Yes Sir. Goodbye Ma’ams, Sir’s.”

Blaine can’t bare to look back as he is lead away, his time cut unfairly short.

 

Slapper knocks on Hunter’s office door before walking straight in.

“I’ve bought him to you, boss.” She pushes him forwards, and Blaine lets himself drop to his knees.

“I told you, all punishments will be dealt with tomor- Oh, pet.” Hunter starts before noticing Blaine. “Thanks Johnson, you are dismissed.” With a nod, the guard leaves.

Hunter get up from his desk, walking round to stand in front of Blaine.

“I thought you were better than this, pet. What did you do?” Blaine thinks he can hear genuine disappointment in his Master’s voice.

“I.. I don’t really know Master.”

“Slut…” he prompts.

“I swear. I don’t understand the rule I broke. I wanted to do well, and show my family I am ok. Happy even. And it was all going so well, but then Ma’am was asking me to leave, and I don’t know why. Please Master, I didn’t mean to. Whatever I did, I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to disappoint you, Master-“

“5226, stop rambling! Tell me what happened. What where you talking about before being withdrawn?”

After a moment to recall the information, Blaine speaks. “Nick, Master.”

“What was said?”

“Umm, I think it was about why he wasn’t there.”

“And what did you say?” Hunter prompts.

“That he was busy.”

“And?”

“That was it, I was being asked to leave.” Hunter doesn’t respond, returning to his desk chair and clicking the computer mouse. Blaine feels dismissed, but doesn’t dare move knowing he doesn’t have permission. After a short time passes Hunter makes his way back over to Blaine.

“Looking at the CCTV, I believe you. And I want to praise you for how you dealt with such a difficult question. A member of staff has been able to deal with the situation.” He hooks a finger under Blaine’s chin, forcing him to raise his head. “However I am disappointed that you got yourself into a situation in which you had to be removed. You weren’t there on your own, you should have stayed quiet and allowed a member of staff to deal with it. Your answer wasn’t wrong, but the right answer would have been no answer.” Blaine tries to drop his head, but Hunter doesn’t release his hold. “I don’t think you deserve to be punished for that, do you?”

It takes a moment for Blaine to realise he is expected to answer.

“I agree with whatever you think is right, Master.”

“Oh, you are such a good boy really, aren't you.” Hunter lets go of Blaine’s chin and runs it through Blaine’s hair. “You don’t deserve a punishment. Besides, your time was cut short so lets say that was your punishment. How does that sound, pet?”

“Thank you, Master.”

“But, I’ve got you here, and we have a bit of time, so why don’t we use it to work on your one-to-one lessons? Link your cuffs together in front of yourself.”

Blaine doesn’t know why he let himself get his hopes up he would get of that easy.

“Follow me.” Blaine follows as Hunter walks the long way back to his desk chair, shuffling awkwardly on his knees with bound wrists. “Under you go,” his Master indicates to the gap below the desk.

Once Blaine is in position Hunter sits in his chair, rolling forwards so his legs are under the desk, slightly squashing Blaine.

“You remember how I mentioned cock warming last time?” Blaine nods before remembering Hunter can’t see him.

“Yes, Master.”

“Take my cock out, and I want you to hold it in your mouth until I say otherwise.” Blaine takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself, before undoing his Master’s flies and reaching in. “Remember, you aren’t meant to stimulate me. What did I tell you last time about how to do this?”

“To stay still, Master. And to make sure my tongue is out the way so it doesn’t stroke you.”

“Good boy, well remembered. Show me.”

With another steading breath, Blaine takes Hunters length. He fidgets a little as he get comfortable, and then prepares to settle in for the long run.

Hunter runs his hand through Blaine’s hair, knowing the way Blaine likes it. Blaine hears the click of the computer mouse, his Master returning to whatever it is he spends most his time doing.

After some time, Hunter speaks. “You can lay your head against my thigh.” Blaine takes the offer as invitation to fidget slightly while moving his head, repositioning his knees form the indent in the carpet to a slightly different place, hoping it will offer a bit of relief, even if just for a moment. Resting his head against Hunter’s leg is surprisingly more comfortable. He inhales the manly scent of his Master, trying to relax.

He tries to block out the knowledge of where he should be now, if everything had gone to plan. He can’t help but wonder what his family thinks has happened. If they expect him back or if Slapper has sent them on their way. If Nick’s parents have been informed their Son won’t be coming. Maybe they car shared and will be speculating all the way back to Ohio. However far that may be.

Instead he tries to remember everything he saw, storing the images in his brain rather than focusing on what he is missing out on.

Cooper had let his stubble grow out a bit, getting rid of his more boyish look for one that, if it wasn’t his brother, Blaine would argue was hot. Hopefully it helps him get more acting gigs. Not that his brother was exactly struggling over in Hollywood. His Mom must have been struggling a bit with stress, which he hopes isn’t because of him. The wrinkles around her eyes were more pronounced, her hair greying. Although he has to say, the greying hair does suit her in a way he never would have assumed.

His Dad… his Dad looked exactly the same as when Blaine last saw him, in the car outside the holding centre, almost as if no time had passed.

If only it felt that way.

Thankfully, in this new position, with Hunter’s hand back in his hair, Blaine is able to let his mind drift of and enter the relaxing state of nothingness.

 

When he returns to the cell later that evening Blaine is surprised to see only a handful of others there. He spots Tina and heads over to her.

“Where is everyone?”

“We don’t really know, but we can only assume they broke a rule and haven’t been allowed to return. Wait, what happened to you?”

“I was removed as the guard thought I was about to break a rule, but Master decided after a brief, umm… talk, I hadn’t nor was I about to, so allowed me to return.”

“But the others weren’t with you?” Tina asks, doubting her previous assumption.

“No. Although it was mentioned that they were doing punishments tomorrow. I guess maybe everyone is being held until then.”

“So, mister bad boy. What did you get in trouble for?”

“Nick’s parents found me. The guard was worried I was about to say something I shouldn’t so I was removed.”

“Shit, Nick wasn’t allowed to see his family? That’s rough!”

“I know.” Blaine feels guilty. He is annoyed at having his time cut short, but at least he got to see his family happy and healthy one last time.

 

The following day they do not resume to the normal daily structure. Instead, every hour or so one sub returns sporting whip marks along their backs.

When the fourth person arrives Blaine doesn’t look up, enjoying his doze in his cage. That is until the person speaks.

“Did you miss me?”

“Nick!” He shouts, jumping up. He is about to hug his friend before stopping, wondering what the state of his back may be like. However Nick latches his arms around Blaine, so he takes that as an invitation.

“I have missed you,” Blaine starts, “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Where have you been? What happened?”

“I’m fine. Basically it was a bit of time in solitary confinement. Although I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s ok? Just know I am fine now, and nothing has changed.” Blaine knows that feeling. He also hears the hidden meaning, and while he wishes his friend would take the warning and stop trying to create a revolt, he is glad to know that whatever happened hasn’t affected his friend as much as his own punishment with Hunter did. Nick pulls him in closer, whispering “I am going to bring this place down if it kills me trying.”

Chapter Text

A few days later – or maybe weeks, Blaine really isn’t sure at this point, another auction has been and go so he guesses it closer to weeks later – they are taken into the assembly hall rather than the usual classrooms. There are faces Blaine doesn’t recognise; people from other intake groups.

“Welcome everyone. Today’s session normally takes place towards the end of training, however due to the events over Christmas I felt it was appropriate to bring it earlier. I am appalled at how so few of you where capable of behaving; truthfully I thought you where all better than this. But it’s done, so we just have to go through the repercussions you’ve caused yourselves, and I’ll have to tighten up training for the future.

“For now, I feel you need a reminder of just what your life now is. You are a sub! You know what that means? You are a toy, an object for your Master’s or Mistress’s entertainment. A nothing. Look around, there are lots of you here.” Hunter picks up a box from behind a table, carelessly dropping it on top. On the front of the box is a sign clearly labelled birth certificates. “Nick Duval. Which of you is this?” Blaine watches as his friend raises his hand. “Perfect, sub. Come here.” Slowly Nick rises, making his way to the front as Hunter continues. “These pieces of paper were once so important to you all. They are a very important document we all keep safe, as they are proof of your identity. However, you have all been granted a blessing; you have had your ID tattooed on your backs, you don’t need this flimsy bit of paper anymore.”

As Nick arrives, Hunter gets him to turn around, pushing his head down and lifting his collar.

“However, I can’t seem to see any Nick printed on here. Do you know what I see? I see a string of numbers. 010216-9103-6. So, Nick, what is your real name?” Hunter pronounces his name mockingly.

“9103, Master.” Given Hunters expression, Blaine isn’t the only one surprised with his friend’s lack of resistance.

“Well done, maybe we are finally getting through to you! So you see, this once important document isn’t just no longer needed, it’s also wrong. Nick Duval, born the first of Feb, doesn’t exist anymore!” Blaine watches as Nick takes a deep collecting breath. “We don’t need this piece of paper anymore. However, I can’t just throw all these in the bin,” he says, indicating the rest of the box. “Someone might take them and commit identity theft. So that leaves me asking the question of what to do. Here, you hold it for a second.” He passes the sheet to Nick, still facing the group of kneeling subs. “3042, what are you told to do with sensitive documents before?”

“I don’t know, Master,” someone responds.  

“7246, do you?”

“Shred them, Master.”

“Exactly! So, 9103, I need you to shred this useless document. Rip up any remaining evidence of Nick.”

Blaine can see Nick fighting to keep control of his temper, so is surprised when after only a minor hesitation he pinches the top of the paper between his fingers and starts to pull it apart. Once it’s in two separate pieces Hunter instructs him to continue, tearing it up until its in too many pieces to hold. At Hunter’s final instruction, Nick throws the pieces in the air, watching as they rain back down around him.

“Good boy, I am very impressed with you,” Hunter praises, patting Nick on his shoulder. “It’s not easy going first, so I’ll give you a reward.” Hunter reaches into his pocket, pulling out a packet of mints. He pops the top open and shakes one out. “Open up,” he instructs, feeding it to Nick. Blaine watches his friend blush in embarrassment of the action, but he doesn’t react any further. “You can return now.”

Blaine doesn’t think he has ever seen his friend walk as fast as he does now, clearly uncomfortable. He wonders what must have happened to Nick during his punishment to have made him so ‘well behaved’ now.

“Let’s see who’s next then shall we,” he says to no one in particular. “Rubin Light. Up you come.” A sub Blaine doesn’t know rises to his feet, walking to the front as if he was walking to his execution.

Blaine wonders just how close that analogy is.

As Rubin reaches the front Nick returns to his place next to Blaine, heavily drops to his knees. Blaine sends a questioning look: ‘Are you ok?’, which Nick returns a wink.

Not able to probe for more information in a room filled with guards, he is at least reassured that his friend seems alright for now. Blaine returns his attention to the front of the room.

“Whore, we have been through this with 9103, it’s not that complicated. What is your name?”

“Rubin, Master,” the title laced with sarcasm.

Hunter turns to one of the guards up front with him. “Would you?”

The male guard steps forwards, taser hidden from Rubin but visible to the rest of them. It’s no surprise to Blaine when the little black box connects with the sub, making his body spasm. When the guard steps back the boy drops to the floor.

“On your knees, whore.” When the sub doesn’t move, Hunter grabs his hair and yanks him into position. “Your name?”

“Rubin,” he spits out between gritted teeth. Hunter lets go of his hair and the guard steps forwards, this time tasering him for longer. When the guard steps back, Rubin is out of breath.

“Your name!”

“0…9…2…3,” he says eventually.

“0923 what?”

“0923, Master.

“Good enough.” Hunter reaches into the box and pulls out another birth certificate, assumingly Rubin’s, and passes it to the sub before reaching back down behind the table. “You can do the honour of turning the shredder.” Hunter pulls out a manual shredder, a rubbish bag already lining the inside.

“No,” he spits out between gritted teeth. Hunter seems taken aback by the refusal.

“Oh yes. One chance.”

“No, I won’t do it. That paper is me!”

“Have it your way.” Hunter indicates for a second guard to step forwards. She reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a flogger. The first guard pushes Rubin’s head down, forcing him to present his backside to the female guard. Without much warning, the flogger comes down repetitively. By around the tenth hit the sub starts screaming, but by the twentieth he is beyond making a noise. Blaine loses count but estimates it’s around the thirtieth hit when the guard stops.

“Are you going to behave now whore? I’ll do the first bit,” he says, picking up the discarded birth certificate from where Rubin dropped it. “All you need to do is turn the handle.”

Hunter shakes the paper so it hangs flat, holding it in position above the shredder. Rubin crawls forwards a step, and with only a quick glance at where the handle is he starts to slowly turn it, not watching as the paper is shredded.

“Not so hard now was it? Now you can help me do everyone else’s as well!” Rubin looks as though he is about to object, however doesn’t appear to have the energy to do so. Hunter takes the subs silence as agreement, pulling out the next sheet.

“Goodbye, Yazmin Ulangdy,” he jokes as he holds the paper above the shredder. Blaine doesn’t find it funny, after a kick to Rubin’s side, watching the identity of a fellow sub be ripped up, especially knowing his is soon to follow. “Goodbye, Josie Parker.”

It continues much the same for the rest of the subs. Blaine tries to block out Hunter’s words, but he is too attuned to his Master. “Goodbye, Blaine Anderson.”

Blaine watches as his birth certificate is slowly lowered into the shredder, watching the pieces drop out the bottom and into the box lined with a clear garbage bag, mixing in with the identities of his peers.

He swears the room has gotten colder in the time it takes for Rubin to finish turning the handle. He doesn’t have a passport – they are no longer allowed for under 16’s – and he hasn’t a drivers permit. His birth certificate was his only form of ID. It didn’t really set in until now, but even if he was - through some miracle - to get out of the system, he wouldn’t be anyone. He has no proof of who he is. He’s 5226. The sub. Interchangeable. Hunter didn’t even react to his name, his Master doesn’t even know his name is Blaine. Was Blaine. Hunter announces the next name, moving on as though he doesn’t care that Blaine is going through a turmoil of emotion.

And why would he? Blaine is just a random sub. He has always been 5226 to Hunter. Sometimes pet, sometimes slut. But never Blaine. His Master doesn’t care about Blaine. He is only interested in 5226. The sub. And even then, 5226 is still expendable. Hunter probably acted the same way towards Sophia in the beginning.

“We have also been sent some other items of yours. Things your parents don’t want; don’t need. Although we then realised that you don’t need them either. We could donate them, but who would want a bear from a sub?”

Mr Bowtie!

It takes more self control than Blaine would admit to prevent himself from shouting out. Hunter is holding his childhood teddy by the ear, carelessly swinging it. Blaine bites his tongue.

It’s only a teddy. It’s only a teddy. An inanimate object. Some cotton constructed in a way to be appealing to a child.

But that child was Blaine. His brother gave him the bear before he left for LA, promising that even though he wouldn’t be there to look out for Blaine, Mr Bowtie would keep watch and relay any news to Cooper.

Blaine carried that teddy bear everywhere with him. His Mom wouldn’t let him take it to school, so he left it on the table by the door every morning and was the first thing he picked up when he got back. As he grew older the bear become a permanent fixture on his bed, next to his pillows. He stopped cuddling the bear to sleep, but still told it everything. That bear knew Blaine hated history. That bear knew his favourite teacher was Mrs Holivs, the music teacher at junior school. That bear was the first to know Blaine was gay.

So yeah, the bear meant a lot to him.

His parents also knew how much it meant to him. So, what does it mean, that the bear is now here?

“…bowtie, what an ugly item of clothing,” Blaine finally is able to listen to what Hunter is saying once again. “The only decent fashion accessory for a neck is a good looking collar. Not some pretentious tied fabric.” Blaine watches in horror as Hunter pulls the tie of the bear. It takes a few attempts, but finally his Master is able to snap the stitching, the tie coming free. He drops the tie into a large cardboard box before consulting a piece of paper.

Blaine is still in disbelief. How could his parents hand his bear over?

“This belonged to... 5226.” He looks back up to the crowd of kneeling subs. “Up you come, pet.”

Very reluctantly, Blaine obeys.

“I believe you are going to be able to set a good example for everyone to follow. This bear is here because it had great sentimental value to Blaine. And I’m sorry to sound like a broken record, but Blaine doesn’t exist now, does he?” Blaine shakes his head. “Who does?”

“5226, Master.”

“Excellent. Since Blaine isn’t about, who on earth would want this ratty bear?”

When it become clear Hunter expects an answer, Blaine grudgingly responds, “No one, Master.”

“Well done. I want you to take these,” Blaine looks up to see Hunter handing him Mr Bowtie and a pair of sharp scissors. “And cut it up.”

Blaine balks. Hunter wants him to do what!?

“Come on, slut. You are better than this. Do as you are told.”

Unable to see another option, Blaine takes the bear and sheers. With another bit of encouragement from his Master, Blaine delicately snips of a limb. He offers the items back to Hunter.

“Come on, pet, you can do better than that. Chop its head off!”

It’s just cotton. Its not Mr Bowtie anymore, he has already lost his bowtie. He can do this.

He has to do this.

Almost with his eyes closed, he brings the blades of the scissors to the bears neck. With a last deep breath, he begins to snip.

 

One by one, each of the subs in the room are called forwards. A small ‘riot’ starts out not long after his turn, however with the use of tasers the guards quickly stop it in it’s tracks, leaving everyone feeling more defeated than before.

Back in their cell that evening there is a variation of reactions. Tina had made a beeline for her cage, and every so often Blaine can hear a muffled sob. Brittany is relieved as “It’s so much simpler and easier now. All I have to worry about are my cuffs and collar, and I can’t lose them as they are attached to me.”

Max also made his way straight to his cage, and if the gentle snores are anything to go by he has decided to sleep the event of.

Like Tina, Lucy and Josie are crying, sat together trying to comfort each other.

Jacob is picking at his womb, caused by purposely cutting himself once again, this time with the scissors.

Blaine catches Nick sat on his own and heads over.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seemed a bit out of character today, that’s all.”

“Oh, that ‘good subby’ act?” He drops his voice to a whisper. “Something need-to-know is happening in a few days and I can’t afford to get myself in trouble before it. Don’t worry, I’ve not been brainwashed,” he joked. Somehow, it hasn’t lessoned Blaine’s worry.

“What’s happening?”

“I thought we agreed that you were need to know?”

“I was. Still am, kind of. But I want to do more to help. How Master was today, I…” Blaine doesn’t know how to finish that thought, not sure exactly how he feels, or how to even process the events of the day. “Anyway, I’ve decided I definitely want to help. Don’t tell me what’s going to happen, but what can I do to make it easier for you?”

“Are you sure, Blaine? Because before…”

“I know. But what can I do?”

“I’ll get back to you once I know what we need.”

 


 

Blaine is surprised and relieved that yesterday’s small ‘riot’ hasn’t seemed to have bought any repercussions. At least, not yet. The day follows the usual routine Blaine is becoming used to, however everyone seems much more subdued than before. Maybe Hunter knew the lesson itself was strong enough that once they had time to let it sink in a severe punishment wouldn’t be necessary.

As they arrive in the kitchen for their cooking lesson Blaine notices several different joints of meat on the centre table, as well as carving knifes. He hopes that means they are going to be taught how to carve. It’s something he has never done before, so it will be interesting to learn.

“Split into groups of three,” a guard instructs as she walks through into the next room, not pausing to check they obey.

Blaine looks to Nick, the universal sign of lets pair up. He looks around for someone else to join them, however since they are a group of eleven, and he hasn’t exactly made many friends (Tina and Brit are already with Lucy, and he wouldn’t count Jacob as a friend any more), everyone else has been able to join up, leaving them as a two.

Not that Blaine is complaining.

When the guard returns she instructs each group to one of the meat joints. Blaine and Nick given a cooked turkey.

The guard is about to start when something catches the corner of Blaine’s eye.

It happens so fast. One moment Jacob is picking up the carving knife, the next there is blood pouring from his arm.

“Slut!” the guard shouts, grabbing the knife and dropping it down on the counter. “What the actual fuck! The rest of you, clean that up and return to your cell. I will send someone to get you soon.” Dragging Jacob by the hair, the pair leave the kitchen.

Max is the first to move, the rest of them frozen in shock. He picks up the knife and takes it to the sink. Blaine and Nick move next, going to the cupboards in search of cleaning supplies.

The three of them work in silence, not knowing what to say. The others slowly start leaving after being reassured they are fine cleaning up. It’s not as if there is all that much to do, and the guard grabbed Jacob before he made too much of a blood puddle. It doesn’t take long to clean up between the three of them and are soon returning to their cell.

“I don’t understand what’s going on in that kids head.”

“Nick, that kid is the same age as you! You’re getting old beyond your time,” Blaine jokes.

“Still, I get that I’m not exactly the best behaved, but what is he trying to achieve by stabbing himself?”

“I think it’s about control,” Max gently adds.

“Huh?”

“Everything about yourself is so controlled in here, its one of a few things he can still do. Sure, there are repercussions, but it’s a decision he is still able to make for himself. Like, he isn’t eating his food either.”

“How do you know?” Blaine asks.

“About the control thing or the food thing?”

“Both,” Nick and Blaine say at the same time.

“In short, my friend was being abused, but he self harmed as a way of control. He said he knew it was wrong, but it was his coping method, a way to show himself he was still in control of what happened to him. I’m guessing for Jacob it’s a similar thing. He acts out to show that he still can. And I’ve always been an observant person, it’s not hard to see Jacob isn’t eating. Like, I also know you two are up to something.” Nick stutters, trying to come up with an excuse. “No, I don’t want to know what it is. But be careful, you’re not being as sneaky as you think.”

With that thought on their minds they reach the cell, the conversation coming to an end.

Chapter Text

Eventually, as promised, another guard is soon there to collect them and they are taken back into the canteen for lunch. Blaine isn’t really surprised to see Jacob tied up on the whipping post, lashes lining his back. Although a whipping for injuring yourself seems a bit contradictory to Blaine.

Everything about this place seems a bit contradictory at the moment.

Blaine tries not to dwell on it as he collects his lunch. It looks as though the meat they had meant to carve has been mixed into a stew. While it's nice to be getting proper meat for once, the mixture of all the different flavours don’t particularly compliment each other.

Still, anything is better than that dried slave food he had round Hunter's.

After lunch they are back in a standard classroom, kneeling behind rows of benches facing a desk.

 

It’s not a long wait before a guard arrives. It’s one Blaine has seen around, although hasn’t yet had a lesson taken by him. Blaine wonders what type of staff member he is; is he sympathetic to the subs, is it just a job for him, or is he one of the ones that gets a power trip out of abusing subs.

It doesn’t take long to find out.

“Hey subs. I’m here to teach you some more advanced service positions and commands. Lets get through this without incident and we can finish early,” he starts in a very dry and boring tone. “Make sure you remember these, as you will be tested next week. First position of the day; presenting one. Everyone shuffle back from your benches and kneel down.” The guard gives them a few moments to move before carrying on. “Now spread your knees apart. The command for this is-“ he points down with two fingers then separates them into a ‘V’.

Blaine feels like he recognises the commands, but can’t remember where from. If he has been taught them before he should be grateful that he is being reminded, obviously having forgotten them so far.

“Backs straight, heads down, hands clasped behind your backs. Presenting two has the same signal, but you should read the situation as to which is needed. The only difference is resting your hands on your thighs, open and palms up. Show me. Position one is more about showing you are at your Master disposal, whereas position two is about showing you are waiting to take anything that is given to you.” Blaine feels like it’s a distinction without a difference, but what choice has he got but to go with it.

The guard walks across the front of the rows, checking and correcting everyone’s positions.

“For punishment one you lean forwards and put your head on the floor with your knees together, and punishment two is with your knees apart. The signal for punishment one is this…” he does the same two finger downwards point as before, but then curls his fingers in. “And punishment two…” he signals the downwards point, ‘V’, then curl. “Show me punishment one now.”

The guard corrects Blaine’s position, pushing him down further.

“And punishment two. And yes,” he says when he notices some of the subs struggling, “it does take some practice, which we expect you to do this week before your test.” Blaine manages to keep the position, but does find it hard to balance. “This tends to be used if your Master want’s you small and out the way, but is most often used for punishment.

“Now, punishment three…”

 


 

Back in their cell later, Blaine is going through the commands with Nick in the ‘privacy’ of the wash room.

“How do you remember! There’s like four hundred!” Nick complains.

“Don’t be so overdramatic. There’s only twenty-one from today,” Blaine laughs, loving seeing this side of his friend, knowing it’s still there.

“That’s basically four hundred.”

“Your maths extounds me.”

“Obviously it was still good enough to pass the sub test,” Nick mutters.

“Why did you ask me for help if you are just going to object and complain the whole time? Now put your hands behind your head and stand up straight!”

“Bossy.” Blaine raises his eyebrows. “And you know why. I need to get this right so I don’t get in trouble any time soon.”

“Do you know anything more yet?”

“And when would I have found out any more?” Nick laughs half-heartedly.

“I don’t know. Don’t you have some secret way of communicating with Kitty?”

“No, how on earth do you think we could do that?” Nick asks, amused. 

“Well, how do you communicate?” Blaine questions, checking no one else is overhearing their conversation.

“Just in person. Less chance of a piece of paper being found, and less effort of finding paper to send. We always set the next time we will meet, and a contingency in case we are… otherwise engaged. And only a few of us meet at the same time. Two or three subs sneaking out we have got away with – most of the time.” He adds. “If all of us met we would get caught.”

“There is more than just you and Kitty!?” Blaine exclaims, not having considered this a possibility.

“Of course. Last I heard there were seven, plus you if you want to be counted. But I think there are more now as well. Plus a load of help from the outside.”

“Have you come up with any way I can help yet?”

“God you are impatient! Umm, how many staff are there? That might be helpful info.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re no good,” Nick teases.

“Hold on, I might. When I’ve been in Master’s office there was a list on the wall, people having been assigned tasks for the week. I don’t know how many people were on it, but maybe thirty or forty names. Although that assumes that was a staff list, and everyone was on the list...”

“Even so, it gives a better idea of what we are against. I’d assumed there were less than-“

They are interrupted by Jacob barging in and running to the toilet. At the sound of vomiting, Blaine and Nick make the universal decision of leaving the room.


 

The week passes much quicker than Blaine realized, and soon he is back in the ‘positions’ room with the dry guard, being tested on the poses and commands from last week.

Blaine is please when he and Nick both pass the lesson, him getting them all right and Nick only making one minor slipup. Not everyone was so lucky though, four of the subs being made to pose in ‘punishment two’ while the guard uses a flogger on their rear, the number of swings in proportion to how many mistakes.

Of course, Jacob had the most mistakes, getting confused between commands. The guard instructs Jacob to miss his hobby session that afternoon in order to recover from the swats and take a bit of time revisiting the commands. Jacob looks relieved at the prospect of missing whatever it was he chose as his hobby. With the promise of another test next week, everyone is dismissed. 


 

A few days later it is time for another one of their sex lessons, Blaine being sent to Hunter for his one-to-one.

He knocks on the door of his Master’s office, awaiting the invitation in before opening the door.

“Oh, hello pet.”

“Hello Master.” Blaine smiles at the nickname, knowing it means Hunter is currently in a good mood with him.

“I forgot you were coming this afternoon. Just kneel in the corner while I finish up here, then we can head to the room and get started.”

Blaine heads over to ‘his’ corner, wondering what his Master means.

Every lesson so far has taken place in Hunter’s office, so why are they going to a different room for this one? What’s in store for him this time?

Blaine is distracted in his musings by the whiteboard on the wall. It’s the staff list thing he remembered seeing before!

Without making it too obvious that he’s staring, Blaine counts the names on the list. Forty-one. His guess wasn’t too far of really. Although that assumes it is a list of what he thinks it is.

“Right then pet, let’s go.” Hunter says, making him jump slightly. He follows his Master out of the office and through the endless maze of corridors before arriving at room S.

Blaine’s jaw drops. Room? More like dungeon.

Although once Blaine gets over the shock of the equipment, he realizes the room isn’t that bad. The walls are a neutral magnolia, it has a clean and airy smell, and most shockingly large skylights letting in natural light.

It’s been a while since Blaine has been able to see the outside. Despite the gloom of the dark clouds outside, it’s refreshing to have a change from the artificial glow in the rest of the building. It’s also nice to have the time recalibration; while he doesn’t know the exact time, he knows it’s daytime.

“You finished?” His Master chuckles, amused by Blaine’s gawking. Blaine smiles at him before dropping his head, refusing to look at all the equipment in the room. “Come sit with me,” he orders, perched on the bed in the right hand side of the room, pulled just enough of the wall for someone to be able to walk down the side.

Blaine precariously perches on the edge with a bit of distance between him and Hunter.

“Scoot closer, pet, I won’t bite. Today.” Blaine shuffles up the length of the bed. As he nears Hunter his Master pulls him in closer so his back is against Hunter’s chest, his arms around Blaine’s stomach holding him tight. “Tell me what you are thinking.”

“It’s nice to see a bit of sunlight. Even if there is no sun,” he adds. “Umm, the room is scary, but at least it smells airy.”

“Scary? I thought this is quite a nice room.”

“The room’s nice. It’s the, umm, furniture, that’s scary.”

“Ok then, we can go a bit slower on this, seeing as I want to teach you to enjoy this stuff. How about today I show you that BDSM isn’t scary, and we can have an extra session to catch you up with your classmates.” Blaine nods, not sure how else to react. “Have you seen any of this before?”

“I know what a cage is of course, but haven’t seen one that big before. I know what stocks are.” Blaine looks up, seeing what else is in the room that he didn’t notice at first glance. “I recognise that cross thing but don’t know what it is. No idea what the padded bench is. And if it's okay with you, I’m going to ignore all the straps and cupboards and everything else for now, I’m not sure I can process anything else.”

“Thank you for your honesty pet. And that’s ok. As I said, it’s important to me for you to learn to like and enjoy all of this, so I am prepared to go at whatever pace you need. Of course all normal rules apply, but I’m not going to punish you for being unsure of this stuff, at least to begin with, ok?”

“Thank you, Master.” Blaine does feel a big sense of relief knowing his Master is prepared to give him the benefit of doubt. Hopefully Hunter sticks to his word – it’s not as if Blaine has any grounds for objection if he doesn’t.

“I won’t object to getting to spend more time in here with you, not when the alternative is all that paperwork. The cage is just a big cage, so nothing to explore with that just yet. Where do you want to start?”

“Where ever you think is best, Master,” Blaine answers, knowing it is the only correct answer.

“What scares you the most?”

“Umm, what’s that bench thing, Master?”

“Let’s start there shall we,” he says, patting Blaine’s stomach as a signal to move. “For this session, you are allowed to ask whatever questions come to mind. So, that’s a bondage bench.”

They walk over to the padded bench, Hunter leaning back against the frame with his hand resting on the padded black leather.

“I’m sure it’s no surprise to you that it’s used for restraining a sub. The padding on this one is a bit worn, but they are designed to be comfortable for longer durations.” Cautiously Blaine walks over to it, pressing the leather on the lower level of the bench.

Blaine can feel what his Master means. The leather is very worn, faded and ripped in a few places, but he can imagine how the padding would be more buoyant in a newer bench.

“Kneel on that bit, and put your chest on this top bit,” Hunter says, indicting the higher level of the bench.

Blaine complies, shifting to get more comfortable.

“What sort of things is it used for, Master?”

“You mean, is it for punishment?” Blaine nods. “Yes, and no. It puts you in a good position for a spanking, but that could be play or punishment. And the part your knees are on can be split in two and spread, giving me access. Everything in here can be both play and punishment. Although I would argue those aren’t always separate anyway. How does it feel?”

“It’s a bit hard, Master. And I don’t know what I am meant to do with my arms.” Blaine swings his arms, letting them hang down from the bench.

“The one I have at home is much softer, don’t worry,” he chuckles. “Your arms will go wherever I want them. Hold on to the legs,” he instructs, walking to the front of the bench and squatting down. Blaine hears a click before realizing Hunter has attached his wrist cuff to the bench.

Hunter does the other one before standing back up.

“Now you haven’t got to worry.” He runs his hand through Blaine’s hair, ruffling the lose curls. Blaine’s Master then moves to his feet. Straps are pulled over his ankles, attaching him to the bench at four points.

“How are you feeling?” Hunter asks.

“I don’t know. A bit claustrophobic, but also a bit safe. It’s a weird feeling, Master.”

“I won’t do any more straps today. This bench has several attachment points for keeping you immobile in different ways, but this is enough to get the feeling." Hunter starts stroking Blaine’s side in a relaxing manor.

Blaine focuses on his Master’s motions rather than the constraint of the straps.

“You can get these in lots of different colors. Black is of course the cheapest, being the most common, but I like the individuality of having a more colourful leather,” Hunter starts, distracting Blaine. “I have a red one at the moment, but that’s starting to become quite standard and boring, so I might get a new one when I get rid of whore. What’s your favourite color, pet?”

“I like yellow, Master.”

“Why yellow?”

“It’s bright like sunshine.” Hunter considers his answer for a moment.

“I’m not sure yellow would be a great colour to have for a bondage bench. What else do you like?”

“Purple is a nice one. It reminds me of ‘rich’”.

“I could probably stretch to having a purple one. A royal color for a royal sub.” Hunter may not know or care who Blaine was, but his affection for 5226 can’t be argued. And for now, Blaine can’t help but want to prove himself worthy as 5226.

“Are you ticklish, pet?”

“Huh?” But before he has time to process the question, Hunter is stood with Blaine’s legs between his, tickling his sides.

Normally Blaine is ticklish, but the shock of his Master’s playful side has rendered him frozen in surprise.

“What about your feet? Bet they are.”

“Master, please, no!” He begs in jest.

“Oooh, I’ve got some begging out of you, I like this! But now you’ve just got me curious,” Hunter teases, his fingers lightly tracing over the soles of his feet.

“Master, pleeease-“

“Please tickle you? Alright.” Blaine tries to kick and squirm out of the way, but the straps are keeping his legs too restricted to achieve much. “Tickle tickle tickle.” Blaine can’t stop his giggles.

Masteeer,” Blaine complains in a whiney voice.

Petttt,” Hunter mimics. “Alright, that will do. For now anyway,” he jokes, but undoes the straps holding his ankles. “Was that that bad?” he asks, making his way round to undo Blaine’s wrist restraints.

“No Master. It was kind of fun.” Blaine isn’t sure how to feel when he realizes it’s not a lie.

“I’m glad you thought so. I’m going to show you something else. Go get your cute backside on the bed,” he orders with a slap to Blaine’s ass. With a wiggle, Blaine makes his way over to the bed. “Cheeky,” he hears Hunter mutter into the cupboard.

He returns with a length of coiled rope.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course, Master.” There is no other correct answer.

“Can I trust you?” Blaine nods coyly. “Hold out your arms.”

Hunter pulls the key chain of his belt, searching through them before stopping at a small diary sized key. He reaches for Blaine’s left arm, undoing the lock on his wrist cuff. As soon as the cuff is off Blaine ends up involuntarily raising his arm, not having realized how used to the weight he had become. Blaine is better prepared as the second cuff is removed.

When Hunter releases his arm, Blaine can’t help but rub his wrists. It’s not as if the cuffs caused any discomfort, but the feeling of them not being there is… strange.

Hunter holds part of the rope between his fingers, letting the length unravel on its own.

“Rope is a different sensation to your cuffs.” Hunter shuffles up the bed so his legs are each side of Blaine, kneeling above his chest.

Blaine can’t help but start to feel turned on. The vulnerability of the position seems to do something to Blaine that the bench didn’t.

Hunter starts wrapping the rope around Blaine’s wrists in an intricate pattern, looping it through the headboard as he goes.

“Boss, where are you?” A crackly voice comes through the radio as Hunter is half way through tying Blaine up. Hunter sighs, leaning back to sit on Blaine’s lower stomach and answering the walky talky.

“Room S. Why?”

“I need to speak to you.”

“Can it wait?”

“Not really.”

Hunter sighs, “Fine, don’t bother knocking.” He clips the radio back on his belt, turning back to Blaine. “Now where were we?”

“You were going to show me the difference rope makes, Master,” he replies cheekily.

“Oh, yes, you little minx,” Hunter leans forwards, picking the rope back up from where he left it half tied. 

With good timing, Hunter finishes tying Blaine up just as the guard arrives.

“Stay, pet,” Hunter orders, as if Blaine could move. He tugs at the rope experimentally, smirking at Hunter. His Master laughs with an affectionate shake of his head before turning his attention to the guard.

“What was so important?” he asks the visitor.

“There’s been an incident, and I’m actually a bit concerned about the sub in question.”

“Spit it out,” Hunter replies with little patience.

“I’ve had a vomiter.”

“And?” Hunter flicks his eyes to Blaine’s wrists, clear his attention isn’t really with the guard.

“He bit me when I went to investigate. But it didn’t feel like it was aggressive, it seemed as though 8263 was so confused and out of it, it was almost an animalistic reaction.” Why does that ID number ring a bell with Blaine? “He’s been punished a lot – which don’t get me wrong, that idiot deserves it – but I think he is getting a bit of an infection. I think… I think it might be time he gets some medical attention.”

“Fine.” Hunter climbs of Blaine, accepting that the matter needs dealing with. “Lock him in his cage for now, and I will call the nurses before it gets too late and see if I can get one to come in tomorrow.”

“Do I need to punish him for vomiting?”

“I’ll deal with it in the morning. You are dismissed.” Blaine can hear the annoyance creeping in. Without comment, the guard leaves. When the door clicks shut behind him, Hunter speaks.

“Mood sufficiently killed?”

“Is it, Master?” Blaine says, wiggling his eyebrows. Hunter laughs.

“Yes, pet,” he chuckles, lightly slapping his thigh. “Let’s get you undone. It’s probably time anyway. Although just to make it clear, I’d much rather be here with you than in my office with paperwork.”

Hunter unties the rope, rubbing against Blaine’s crotch knowingly. Once Hunter is finished he dismounts – both Blaine and the bed.

“You can stay in here for a little while and let that go down if you want. But no touching – I’ll know,” he says, gently pulling his cock down and letting it spring back up to half mast. Blaine sighs dramatically. “Cheeky monkey today aren’t you! Let me put your cuffs back on and leave you to it. If needed, there is an ice pack in the cupboards, but no touching anything else in there.”


 

Once Hunter has left, Blaine drops the act. Admittedly it was nice to play the flirty well-behaved sub and forget about everything for a while, however it’s more important in his mission of getting closer to Hunter, and therefore able to help Nick from the inside.

He certainly didn’t enjoy letting go and having someone else in control. No. Defiantly not. It was awful having Mas-Hunter in control.

He repeats that like a mantra until he is able to pretend to believe it.

Chapter Text

The next morning Blaine discovers that 8263, the ID number he thought he recognised yesterday, was Jacob.

Hunter arrives not long after the lights switch on, going straight to Jacob’s cage to let him out.

“Open up,” he orders, pushing a ring gag between Jacob’s teeth. Still waking up, Jacob doesn’t object. “You are in room 23 this morning. You have ten minutes to get yourself there.

Blaine no longer has a great concept of time, having lived without clocks or sunsets for six months, so he opts for getting ready quickly and following the instinct of the others.

 


 

Apart from meal times, Jacob has had the gag in for over a week. Blaine still hasn’t gotten used to the more subdued Jacob. Rather than chatting to almost anyone who will listen in their free time he takes himself off to the washroom straight away, showering before climbing straight into his cell. Blaine can’t tell if he sleeps or not, but either way he ignores everyone who goes over to him.

Today, having drunk too much at lunch and Song Bird rehearsals having finished later than normal, Blaine all but runs into the washroom.

He doesn’t notice the heaving noise at first, his mind pre-occupied, but when he hears it’s unmissable.

“Jacob?” he spots, leaning over the toilet, wet hair dripping. He heaves again, throwing up this time. “Are you ok?” Blaine asks concerned the gag might make him choke or something. “Do you need me to do something?”

Jacob flips him off, not bothering to look up. Feeling offended and a bit insulted Blaine quickly finishes up and leaves.

He bets his fellow sub has been drinking the shampoo again. Idiot.

“Hey Tina,” Blaine greats the girl sat on her own.

“Hey Blainy boo. Your hair is getting long,” she comments, gently tugging at his curls as he sits down.

“I used to want it longer, but it always got too hard to manage,” he says, pulling a length straight to see just how long it has gotten. “Now it is longer I just want it short again.”

“That’s always the case,” she laughs. “I love the look of my hair long, but as soon as it got to that length I would chop it all off as it was too much of a pain. Turns out the best way of managing the knots is to not bother brushing them out.”

“I can see that being easier. I always gelled my hair down, my dad told me it made me look smarter and more in fitting with the look of the school I went to. If it got too long it was impossible to gel. Its nice just having it loose for a change.”

“No, don’t tell me you ruined your hair with gel!” She exclaims, mock annoyance.

“I didn’t ruin it! See, it’s fine now.”

“Yeah, you kinda did Blaine,” Nick says, joining their conversation.

“Did not!”

“Did to! It was a gel helmet! This is a much better look.”

“Fine, watch me never do anything for you again!” He jokes.

“Sorry if I sound stupid asking this,” Tina starts, “But where you guys friends before here, or did you hate each other?”

“It’s a brotherly love. We argued no end about what songs the Warblers would sing, but at the end of the day he is my best friend,” Nick explains.

“Does your boyfriend know you have a crush on me?” Blaine jokes.

“Yes. Secretly he is really happy I’m a sub and he can own me so he doesn’t have to compete for my affections.” Blaine just laughs at his friend, glad he is able to joke about their situation now.

 


 

Blaine wonders if maybe there are secret cameras and microphones set up around the sub house, as the next day they are taken to a room that can only be described as a hairdressers.

How big is this place for Blaine still to be discovering rooms and corridors!

“Time for a tidy up before the next auction,” the guard announces. Blaine isn’t sure if he trusts this guard to cut his hair, his skin head giving the impression they are all about to get buzz cuts.

Thankfully, two more people walk into the room wearing barbers aprons and Blaine can relax.

“None of you actually look like you need a second laser treatment, which is quite unusual but helpful. We have two stylists who know what they are doing. Let them get on with their work, don’t make me cuff you to the chairs. You two, go take a seat,” he says pointing to the two closest to him.

Without objection, they head over to the chairs.

The guard then walks over to Jacob, standing a couple of people down from Blaine.

“You can have this off now. Head down,” he orders, reaching round and unlocking the strap to his gag. “Gross,” he mutters, holding the end of the strap and walking off with it.

They are left un-guarded for a few minutes while Skin Head takes the gag somewhere. Maybe it’s the fact they are still being watched by the barbers, but no one acts up while the guard is away.

Eventually it’s Blaine’s turn. He watches in the mirror as hair is shaved off, helpless to stop it.

When the barber is done, Blaine doesn’t know how to feel. His head is shaved at the sides but left longer (although shorter than it was before being cut) on top. He likes it, but it defiantly isn’t a look he would have chosen for himself; it’s not his normal style.

Maybe he can grow to like it.

 


 

The morning of the next auction roles around, two guards arriving in the morning to check their presentation as always.

Having recently been allowed the luxury of tooth paste they skip the mint step, but the rest of the process is the same as every month.

“I’m not sure about 8263,” one guard starts.

“Huh?” All attention goes to Jacob, the boy seeming dazed and confused. Blaine hasn’t seen him swallowing any more of the shampoo, but from the smell it’s clear he is still vomiting regularly. “Radio Hunter and get him to come decide,” the second guard replies dismissively, continuing his checks round the room.

Blaine patiently allows himself to be manhandled, arms lifted, spun around, and teeth checked, before the guard moves on. He hates the impersonality of it, but by now has started to get used to all the unwanted touches.

Hunter hasn’t appeared by the time the guards have finished their rounds, so one of them waits with Jacob while the other leads the rest of them down to the auction room.

The are taken to kneel in the cubical marked with a seven. Six auctions already sat through, only another six to go (including todays).

Blaine kneels at the chains next to Nick, waiting for another guard to come over and lock them down for the day.

 


 

After lunch break Blaine and Nick are greeted by some surprise visitors.

“Fancy seeing you two here!” A friendly voice says.

“Jeff!” Nick has to refrain himself from jumping up and embracing his boyfriend. As it is, he stands up before being able to stop himself. Blaine hopes the guards will assume it was just an order from an interested customer.

“Hey Trent,” Blaine greats the second boy.

“It’s good to see you Blaine. And Nick. We where so worried when we heard you weren’t there at Christmas.”

“How did you find out?” Nick asks.

“Your parents told me. They are helping promote our ‘bring our friends home’ fundraiser.”

“Wait, my parents came?! Blaine, is there something you forgot to tell me.”

So yeah, Blaine may have missed out a few details about boxing day, not wanting to upset his friend unnecessarily.

“I didn’t lie to you, I promise. You didn’t ask if they came, and we changed topics so I didn’t want to bring it back up.” Blaine admits quietly, feeling on edge with all the listening ears around them. “I promise we can talk about it later, just not now,” Blaine flicks his eyes to the nearest guard.

Nick follows his line of vision before agreeing. “Yeah, not the best idea. So Jeff, tell me about this fundraiser.”

“Well, there is this new transfer kid. Kind of an ass, but he’s a good singer. Anyway, he made an offhanded comment about charity cases,” Nick gives Jeff a dubious look. “Yeah, I said he was an ass, but we can’t stop someone from joining the Warblers just because we don’t like him. He even took your role of lead singer, but he’s good so…”

“Anyway,” Trent interrupts. “It got Wes thinking, and he set up a crowdfunding page. We have already been getting donations from strangers. Some only a few dollars, but it will all help. We uh, looked up the law, and subs aren’t allowed to be without a collar unfortunately, but those couple of dollars could mean we are able to afford one that’s better quality, more comfortable for instance.”

Nick looks discussed at the thought of having to wear a collar, even if owned by his friends. Blaine runs an absent minded hand across his own collar, remembering what it was like having his wrist cuffs off after so long. He can’t imagine how it feels to not wear a collar any more.

“So, how are you both? You look well. Nice hair cut Blaine, I like it.” Trent compliments.

“Thanks. I’m good, I think.”

“Could be better, but I’m working on it. How is everything in the outside world?” Blaine doesn’t want to think what Nick’s ‘it’ might be. Their friends have promised to buy him, maybe Nick should leave the rebellion to someone else and focus on getting out of the house safely and into the arms of his boyfriend.

“I’m just glad you are both ok. And god, you would not believe the drama at Dalton! You know what, you two are lucky you get to miss out on it! That new kid is just trouble. But his Dad is this all powerful being that’s mates with the Dean or something, so he can do no wrong. He drives me insane!”

“He drives us all insane,” Trent adds. Blaine spots a bit of moment out of the corner of his eye, the guard now starting to pay attention to the two people having been ‘looking at Nick’ for a while now.

“And he isn’t as good of a singer as Blaine, but from how he talks about himself you’d think he was bigger than the Beatles!”

“I think we have listening ears, Sir,” Blaine hints, the guard starting to get suspicious and heading over.

“What?”

“Hello, boys. Can I help answer any questions?” the guard asks as he nears them.

“Oh, um. No thanks,” Jeff stutters.

“What are you looking for in a sub? I can tell you if we have anything else available sooner.”

“We have seen what we came here to see, thank you though,” Trent replies, able to pull of a better Dom act than his friend.

With a silent goodbye, the guard having remained, Jeff and Trent walk away.

 


 

When they arrive back in their cell that evening Jacob is already there, once again locked in his cage.

“What’s that smell?” Someone asks.

“Eww, that’s gross.”

“I feel sick.”

Blaine didn’t notice the smell until it was pointed out to him, but now he can’t ignore it.

“It smells like sick.”

“I think, I think Jacob has thrown up in his cage…”

“Yuk yuk yuk. He’s laying in it!”

“What do we do?”

“Is he awake?”

“I don’t think so. And his cage is locked.”

“I don’t think we can do anything then.”

“I’m sleeping in the toilets, I can’t stand that smell all night!”

“Don’t be so over dramatic, it’s not that bad.”

“No, I agree, it’s bad.”

“We can’t sleep in the bathroom?”

“Why not?”

“Well…”

“Exactly.”

The group ends up split that night, with half the group opting to move into the washroom for the night, and half sticking with their cages and trying to ignore the smell.

Blaine is in the latter.

 


 

He is woken by a noise.

“And the crocodile…” he hears a mumble. He sits up in his cage, trying to work out what’s going on.

“Noo, not a big balloon. No balloons…” What?

“Shh,” someone else hushes.

“Cookoo cookoo, cookoo bird. Sing!”

“Whoever that is, shut the fuck up!”

Blaine doesn’t know if the person hears or not, but the room remains silent.

 


 

“Ugh, seriously!” the morning guard complains when he arrives to collect them for the day. “You sluts are such disgusting pigs.” The guard hunts out the source of the smell. “Oh, of course it’s you. The rest of you, go. Room 39.”

None of them need telling twice.

Not long into the lesson Hunter comes and collects him, taking Blaine to the same room as last time.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to sort out the whore in your group,” he explains.

Blaine is surprised to hear an apology and explanation, having come to realise subs don’t need to be kept informed, they just need to be ready for whenever they are wanted.

“Let’s take you through the St Andrews cross this morning, then it just leaves the sling and you’ve caught up with the others.” Hunter walks over to the frame on the wall, beckoning Blaine over.

Like the bench, the cross is covered in padded black leather, various straps and attachment points. Blaine reaches out to feel the leather, cautiously as if it would eat him.

Hunter steps back, giving Blaine the space to explore.

“This is sort of a lower top-range model. It’s much more comfortable than the bare wood or slim metal ones, but I feel the simplicity leaves it lacking. It’s a good space saver, but I find the titling ones to be much more fun.”

“Titling, Master?” Blaine asks, hoping the questions allowance extends to all of these sessions.

“My one at home is one a freestanding frame, and the cross is thicker so easier to lay on.” He pauses. “You ready to be tied up?”

Blaine isn’t sure he would ever be ready, but nonetheless he agrees “Yes, Master.”

“Face me, back against the cross,” he instructs. Hunter steps forwards, taking Blaine’s right wrist and raising it slowly, clipping his cuff to the cross. Blaine doesn’t know if he is meant to hold his arm up or let the cuff take the weight.

In attempt to ignore the vulnerability of being restrained he opts to support his own weight.

Hunter attaches his other wrist in the same manor.

“How are you feeling?”

“It’s very different to the bench, Master.”

“In what way?”

“The bench was relaxing, Master. This… I think this just makes me feel vulnerable, Master.” Blaine rolls his shoulders, an ache settling in.

“Drop your shoulders,” Hunter commands. Blaine tries, but can’t let the tension go. Hunter places his hands on Blaine’s shoulder, massaging them.

Blaine shuts his eyes, letting the cuffs take the weight of his arms.

“Good boy. Better?”

“A little, Master.”

“That’s okay, you’ll learn.” He steps back and Blaine opens his eyes. “Legs apart.”

Blaine obeys, Hunter crouching down. Hunter pulls his leg wider, strapping it to the wood with an inbuilt cuff. Once he finishes Blaine’s second leg he steps back, admiring his sub.

“Yeah, you’ll learn,” he mutters. Once finishing his admiration he steps back closer, almost chest to chest. “You know, I don’t like this haircut on you. It feels weird.” Hunter runs his hands through Blaine’s hair, the sensation to before. “Yeah, I’ll have to grow this out, don’t you think?” Blaine doesn’t answer, knowing it’s a rhetorical question.

Hunter’s hands start roaming south, his fingers ghosting down Blaine’s sides. The gentle tickle of such a light touch makes Blaine’s hair stand on edge.

“What do you think?”

“It’s not my fa-“ his breath hitches as Hunter’s hands reach Blaine’s cock. “My favourite,” he stutters.

“Lets associate this with a good memory, and then you can get back to your class.”

Hunter’s wraps on of his hands round Blaine’s cock, gently squeezing. He walks his other hand back up Blaine’s front, coming to stop just below Blaine’s nipple, then circling around.

“Tell me when you get close,” he orders, stepping forwards until he is leaning into Blaine.

Hunter starts stroking Blaine’s length with purpose, not prolonging the build up. Blaine doesn’t know where the lube came from, but he is grateful it’s there.

It only takes a few minutes before Blaine is saying, “I’m close, Master.”

“Good boy.” He stops stroking, stepping back. Blaine whines in complaint. “Patience.”

Hunter strolls over to one of the cupboards, taking his time much to Blaine’s annoyance. He returns with a fleshlight in his hand.

“You have five minutes. You are allowed to cum in that time. If you can’t, it’s your loss.”

Hunter holds the fleshlight just out of reach. It takes Blaine a moment to realise his Master isn’t going to bring it any closer.

He thrust forwards, the tip of his cock only just reaching the toy. He groans in complaint.

“You didn’t think I would make it easy, did you?” Hunter teases. Wanting to prove to his Master that he can do anything he is asked, Blaine tries again.

This time, with a flicker of luck, he manages to breach the toys entrance.

“Master, please,” he begs, not wanting to move and dislodge himself.

“You really going to give up that easily? Well that’s disappointing.” Hunter sighs, feigning disappointment. “Fine, I guess I’m feeling helpful. Three and a half minutes.” Hunter pushes the fleshlight an inch or so closer.

Pulling his restraints to the limit, Blaine is able to fuck into the toy.

He is able to finally forget about the cross, focus on the toy. Blush rises up the back of his neck, embarrassed by his desperation.

“Two minutes.”

He also tries to forget about Hunter stood there watching him, but the months spent completely naked has helped to reduce some of his body shyness.

He also tries to ignore that the first thing he fucks is a toy. He lost his bottom virginity to a rapist against his will, and now is losing his top virginity to a bit of silicon and plastic. But he is a teenage boy who has been unable to get off for ages, so that one isn’t too hard if he doesn’t focus on it.

“One minute.”

Talking of hard, if Blaine doesn’t get off soon he is going to be left hard and aching. So he pictures the boy of his dreams. Someone taller than him. Slim but muscular. Paler skin – some reason a turn on off his. Chestnut browny hair. Blue eyes.

“Ah, ah aggh.” He releases, panting through his release. Hunter gives him a moment to collect his brain of the floor before speaking.

“How do you feel about the cross now?” He asks, throwing the toy in a bin marked used.

“It was a good experience, Master,” he blushes, “But I don’t think it would be my preferred choice.” At Hunter’s expression Blaine hastens to add, “Of course I know its not my choice, it’s yours! I just, it isn’t my favourite.”

“Good attempt at recovery there, pet.” Blaine knows he isn’t completely of the hook, but the nickname makes him relax slightly.

“Master?”

“Mmm.”

“Do you need me to, umm, you know.” Blaine nods to Hunters tented pants.

“Pet, you really need to work on your words,” Hunter laughs. “I appreciate the offer, but don’t worry about me. I have much more control over myself than you subs can manage. But I trust you will be able to look after me in the future, in more ways than one. Go clean yourself up, then re-join your friends. They should be in room 61 by the time you are finished.”

 


 

All the subs, apart from Jacob, end up gathered in the washroom to avoid the stench of vomit in their cell.  

“What do you think is wrong with him?” Nick asks.

“Probably just got the flu or something.”

“I don’t understand why they keep him locked up though,” one of the other subs says.

“To torture us all more.”

“Sepsis,” Brit pipes up.

“What?”

“My Nan had sepsis.”

“That’s not a bad shout. It’s more common in old people, but the conditions here make it plausible,” another girl says.

“What is it?”

“An infection in the blood stream.”

“He has got a lot of cuts.”

“Maybe it’s some STI. I’m not convinced everything they use is clean.”

“Wouldn’t we have all caught an STI?”

“Don’t say that! I don’t wanna die. Especially not in here!”

 

Blaine decides to ignore them, not wanting to get involved in speculation.

 

When they return the next day to the cell smelling even worse, Blaine decides it is time to abuse his privilege of being Hunter’s favourite to go and speak to his Master.

“Where are you off to?” Nick asks, noticing Blaine start to move.

“I’m going to go speak to Master.”

“What?”

“I can’t stand this smell. I’m hoping Master might be willing to do something. Or at least leniante with a punishment since it’s me.”

“Oohh, finally admitting you’re his favourite, are you?” Nick teases.

“I admit nothing!” He turns to leave.

“Wait!” Nick shouts. “Can I come with you?”

“Why? I thought you were avoiding trouble.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll tell you on the way.” Blaine nods, holding the washroom door open for his friend.

Once out of ear shot, Blaine prods Nick to continue.

“Well, I’ve still not been able to get in contact with Kitty, or any of the others I know off. And the date has passed now, so I don’t know where we stand now.”

“Oh, I hope she is alright. What’s your plan now?”

“I don’t really know. Kitty organised everything so hopefully I can find her soon and she will have another idea. For now though, I was hoping you could give me a bit of a tour and point out anything on the way? Please.”

“I’m sure it will work out. Fate has a way, doesn’t it?”

“It normally does.”

“So, tour. This is a corridor,” Blaine jokes. “It goes to some rooms.”

“Any idea what is in those rooms?”

“No, not really. I can probably detour past that holding room place were everyone goes when they first get here, which would take us not too far from the staff room. I don’t think I could get away with us going past it, but I can point it out roughly.”

“That would be fantastic. What’s the excuse if we get caught?”

“We were looking for Master. I’m allowed to go to him whenever.”

“Oh, duh. I forgot you got special privileges,” Nick jokes.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of having him breathing down my neck, pfft.”

“Yeah, you’re probably the lucky one.” Blaine tries not to dwell on the truth behind that statement, changing the topic. “Anyway, down that corridor is another way to the auction display hall. It takes you round the back to the other side. I am yet to find where the actual auctions take place, but I assume somewhere further round the back…”

 


 

When they arrive at Hunter’s office Blaine has a moment of debate about knocking. Previously Master had said he needn’t knock when with him, but Blaine doesn’t think that extends to when he isn’t expected.

Weighing the risks and deciding he is less likely to get in trouble for knocking, he raises his hand.

The door opens before he makes a noise.

“Hello pet, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He looks at Nick. “I’m not sure I am pleased with the company you decide to keep.” Blaine doesn’t speak, keeping his head down submissively and praying Nick doesn’t rise to the bait. “What are you here for?”

“Master, I, umm, we wondered if we could speak to you.” Hunter narrows his eyes.

“Speak then.”

“We have a concern,” Nick says.

“I wasn’t talking to you. Slut, tell me now.”

“Jaco-umm, 8263,” he hopes he recalls the boy’s number correctly. “I’m sure you know he isn’t very well, Master.”

“Yes.”

“Well, umm.” Blaine stutters, knowing Hunter isn’t in the best of moods but unable to get the words to form the way he wants. “He keeps throwing up. And since he is locked in his cage, he, umm, well, it has started to smell a bit. And we can’t get to him to clean up, and umm. It smells, Master.”

“We really need to work on how you ask for something. Start again. What’s the problem?”

“8263 is ill, and the cell is starting to smell, Master.”

“And what do you want to happen?”

“That’s not for me to say, Master. But I thought it was my responsibility to inform you, Master.”

“That’s a bit better. I think we will have a lesson on requests, and a reminder for you of your place. And you, 9103. You don’t have permission to be out here. Come with me.”

Blaine stomach drops, but daren’t disobey his Master. A few steps later Nick follows.

As they start to get closer to their destination Blaine starts to relax, knowing where they are going.

Nick doesn’t have the same realisation, Blaine having taken them a longer way to Hunter’s office earlier.

“Umm, where is everyone?” Hunter asks, arriving at their cell.

“All in the washroom, Master.”

“Why?” Blaine doesn’t answer before the smell hits Hunter. “Oh, OK. I don’t blame you all. I’ll sort something out when I get back to work in the morning. I didn’t think I would need to say this, but you two are to stay in here until the morning ok. Join the others in the bathroom, but don’t come out of this door.”

“Yes, Master,” Blaine replies, Nick nodding. Hunter holds the door open for them to walk through, letting it swing shut as he heads off, no doubt heading home for the day.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Nick announces once Hunter has left.

“Yes, but it could have gone much worse as well.”

“Are we going to be whipped in the morning?”

“I really don’t know. He called me slut, so he wasn’t happy, but I think he would have done something straight away if he was going to.”

“He could have just been in a rush to get home.”

“He could have wanted to leave,” Blaine agrees.

 


 

It takes a couple of days, but eventually a guard comes and removes Jacob one morning. By the time they get back after the day’s sessions the sick has also been cleaned, leaving the chemical smell of bleach overpowering the room.

But it’s a much more bearable smell than before.

 


 

Blaine is called to his next one-to-one with Hunter, filled with trepidation. Nothing seemed to come off his Master threat a few days ago, but Blaine knows better than to relax just yet.

“I just need to take you through the swing, then you should be caught up enough to return to your group. I don’t think you need to be with me to go through the rest of it.”

Hunter heads over to where a load of leather hangs down from the ceiling.

“Not sure I’ve got much to say. This is a bondage swing. You get strapped in – or sometimes left as a test of your balance – and then fun ensues. Come pop up here,” he orders, holding a bit of the ‘swing’. Blaine can’t quite work out what he is meant to sit on.

He jumps up, landing awkwardly on metal clasps and folds of leather. Hunter laughs at him.

“Let’s sort you out.” He steps forwards standing between Blaine’s spread legs and wrapping an arm around Blaine’s back.

Blaine is surprised when Hunter lifts him up as if he weighs nothing. Blaine is impressed by his Master’s strength. Reasonably he knows he must have lost some weight since being entered into the system, eating much less food than before, but he hasn’t noticed a massive difference.

He hasn’t really thought of it before either though. He doesn’t come across a mirror every day so it isn’t in his mind.

Hunter places him back down, this time on a smooth bit of leather.

“Much more comfortable, yes?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Lean back.” Blaine does as instructed, leaning until he would fall if he went further. “No, keep going, the swing is behind you.”

Reluctantly he does. There is a heart stopping moment when he thinks he is about to crash to the floor, but the promised swing is there to catch him.

“Good boy. Good sub.” Hunter lifts one of his legs, pulling it through a strap and leaving it suspended before doing the same to his left leg as well.

“Bondage swing,” he announces with a flourish. “I’ve got a quiz for you to do today. Question one. What are you?”

“Umm. I’m.. I don’t, don’t understand what you mean, Master?”

“Failing at the first hurdle,” he chuckles. “What are you? Are you a Master?”

“No, you’re my Master. I am a sub. I am whatever you want me to be, Master.” Blaine hastens to say.

“Good answer. Eventually. What does that mean?”

“It means I’m submissive. That I listen to other people’s authority. I am subservient and am here to serve my Master.”

“Well done. And does a submissive make choices?”

“No?” Blaine questions, unsure.

“No, they don’t. Sometimes a submissive needs to make a decision based on what their Master says, but it still isn’t a submissive’s choice. So remembering that, why would two submissives walk around without permission to inform their Master of something?” Blaine knows this quiz isn’t just random questions.

“Because the choice needs to be their Master’s, and they decide they need to take that choice to him?”

“Was that why you and your friend came to speak with me the other night?”

“Yes?” Blaine replies meekly.

“And is it going to happen again?”

“No?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because… because…” Blaine pauses. He has no clue what the right answer is.

“Being a sub means different things to different Masters. There isn’t always a black and white line of what can and can’t be done. As much as it would be easier for this business if you where just mindless robots; you’re not. If we wanted robots as slaves we would have made them. I know you have a brain. I looked into you, pet; you were a smart kid. That doesn’t just vanish when you are labelled a submissive. But we need that brain of yours to be working in the right way. And if you do something wrong, we accept that sometimes that line of right and wrong in confusing. You have to do what you think is right. And if what you decide is wrong, you need to take the correction and punishment and learn from the mistake. I’m not a Master who wants you to trip up, but I do expect you to use your brain and do what is right, and I will let you know if you are wrong. So with that in mind, if the same situation was to arise, what would you do?”

“I would tell my Master, and accept whatever he decides.”

“That’s better. I’m glad you came to me the other night. In this instance. As it turns out, your buddy is quite ill, so we are now treating him since his full condition has been taken into consideration and we believe he isn’t faking it. However, did you need to bring your friend with you to see me? Absolutely not. Do I think he probably wanted to escape from the smell for a few minutes? Probably. Do I blame him for that? Not really. Which is why this time I am letting you off with just a little lesson. But I need you to remember, what are you?”

“A sub, Master.”

“And what do you do?”

“Serve my Master.”

“Good boy. I know you are trying your hardest, I understand that. But you might need to just try a little harder for me. I think you have learnt enough today’s session.” Hunter starts to remove Blaine’s legs from their straps. “Your classmates won’t have finished theirs yet, so go join them in room M.” Hunter lifts him of the swing before busying himself by the large bed.

Blaine leaves his lesson, not really sure what he has learnt or if he is completely forgiven.

 


 

It feels like no time has passed before he is next called to the assembly hall, the monthly welcome of the new subs. They are also informed that at the auction in a few days they will all be required to showcase their hobbies.

The next few days of Song Birds rehearsals are a flurry of activity. Luckily they had pretty much nailed the song Count on Me (by Bruno Mars: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMsvwwp6S7Q), so with some last minute prep they are able to pull it together.

Their performance goes of without a hitch, much to the obvious delight of Hunter who comes over at the end to congratulate them.

“Well done, everyone. I am pleasantly surprised. And I am glad to see my pet has such a great lead voice. You can go rest now while the auctions take place.”

Blaine, Nick, Brittany and Lucy all head back to their block in silence, relieved it went well. For how many times Blaine has sung lead, nothing makes him as nerves as Hunter watching.

News seems to have passed round that the house no longer rents out trainee subs after the auctions, meaning there is much less attention after the final gavel has gone down, and they get dismissed early.

“Do you want to go on a very short detour on the way back? If I remember the layout right I think I can take you past another corridor to the staff room.” Blaine whispers to Nick. His best friend nods. To Blaine’s current knowledge Nick hasn’t been able to meet with Kitty yet, however they have passed in the lunch room so know she is back in lessons, and hopefully will reach out to Nick again soon.

They let the rest of the group head of first so they can sneak off at the back.

“Alright, down that corridor, if you take the second left, although it may be the third, then follow it round a few corridors, the staff room is on the right,” Blaine whispers as they pass the turning.

“Thanks. I’m sure this will be really help to-“ he stops talking, two guards coming into view pushing something between them.

Blaine and Nick both drop their heads as they walk past, but that doesn’t stop them both from seeing what lays on the trolley.

“Was that?” Nick asks once they are back out of ear shot.

“Jacob? Yeah.”

“Was he… dead?”

Blaine nods, not able to voice the words.

Chapter Text

That evening Blaine looks across the room from his cage. What used to be Jacob’s cage has been cleaned again, the smell of bleach replaced by the more pleasant sent of lemon. The sheet that contained the sub’s number has already been taken down, the cage looking no different to the other empty ones in the room.

To an outsider, there is and has only ever been ten subs in the group. A new guard starting tomorrow wouldn’t know there ever was a Jacob, his existence removed.

When Nick and Blaine first returned to the cell Nick explained what the pair had seen. No one asked any more questions, everyone understanding the pair don’t know anything beyond what Nick had shared.

That evening had been unusually quiet, no-one sure what to say or think and everyone heading to their cages earlier than usual.

Blaine doesn’t know what to think himself. They have taken down his sign, yet haven’t passed the news on to the rest of them. It was only by chance that he and Nick found out what has happened to his friend.

Only because they were breaking the rules.

 

Nothing is mentioned over the next week, not a single guard acknowledging that there used to be one more of them, no explanation passed on to the rest of the group.

Blaine hasn’t felt so insignificant before. Are they really so worthless they don’t deserve an explanation of their friend?

And Jacob was a friend to Blaine, even if they did have a bit of a rough time of it. Ignoring the fact they didn’t exactly get on more recently, he was still an ally.

If Blaine was to become ill, would the same happen to him? Maybe not - Hunter would probably step in - but what about Nick?

They are all really that replaceable? The reminder of their place at the beginning of the year hadn’t felt as true as it does now.

Jacob wasn’t happy here, and they all knew he was self-harming. Now he is free, not having to serve or suffer through a system he doesn’t believe in.

Blaine tries to take comfort in the fact his friend is no longer suffering, but he isn’t sure the knowledge is enough.

 

Their Song Birds session is cancelled, so Nick, Blaine, Brittany and Lucy return to their cell early. The two girls head to the washroom, Britt on about how she is going to style the other girls hair, leaving the boys on their own.

“How are you doing?” Nick asks, understanding Blaine’s complex relationship with Jacob.

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly with a shrug, sitting down next to his friend. “He wasn’t happy here, so I guess I’m happy for him.”

“No, he didn’t seem to be coping. I guess it’s the only way out he saw. Being stuck within these walls it doesn’t take long until they feel like they are closing in on you.”

“Are you alright?” Blaine is concerned by his friends words. It’s apparent it’s not the first time Nick has thought about it.

“Yeah. Just, if it wasn’t for Kitty, I’m not sure how dissimilar we would have been.”

“Nick, promise you will tell me if things start getting too much. Please, promise me.”

“Blaine, what would you be able to do?”

“Be an ear to rant at. Share the burden. Support you. Anything”

“Okay.”

“Thank you. You know, it’s not right that this system can send someone this far down the wrong road.”

“The system is appalling.”

“I’m not completely sure I would go that far, as it certainly has it’s benefits.” Nick huffs at Blaine’s words, but doesn’t comment. “No, subs really do help the world run smoother. But at what detriment? I… I don’t think this is the right way for the world to be run. Submissives used to give consent. What’s wrong with that? Why did the system change from offering services to being forced to give them. I think there is something in this split of doms and subs, but I think this house is the wrong way to achieve it successfully.”

“I never thought I would hear these words. Are you really saying you think the way the world is, is wrong?”

“I… yeah, I guess. Mental health has been so pushed in the outside world, being talked about and accepted. But in here, we aren’t allowed to talk about anything, it’s gone backwards. We can’t even tell someone we are concerned about physical wellbeing. Mental health isn’t even on the cards. Nothing matters in here. We don’t matter to anyone.”

They are quiet for a moment, both absorbing Blaine’s words as some of the other subs start arriving.

“I, I miss him,” Blaine says tearfully, expecting Jacob to walk in at any moment. “It’s too quiet without him.”

“It feels so empty. Like, I know ten people squeezed into such a small room should feel over crowded, but without him it feels empty. And I didn’t even like him.”

“I know we didn’t get on,” Blaine starts, unable to stop a tear from rolling down his cheek. “But it’s still, still sad. I have been lucky to not loose someone close to me, but I feel like Jacob was. It isn’t like he was my brother, but we all share the situation, and I feel that our group is almost a family because of it. We aren’t really part of our birth families now, but we are part of a new family. And we have lost a brother.”

“Oh, Blaine! Come here.” Nick opens his arms, embracing his friend. “I know what you mean.” Blaine swears he can hear a hitch in his friends voice, trying to supress a tremor. “But that doesn’t mean we have lost our families. Your Mom is still your Mom. My brother is still my brother. We have just gained another type of family.”

“I don’t know. I think my family have disowned me.” When Nick starts to interject, Blaine continues. “Not like, in an embarrassed don’t-want-anything-to-do-with-you-anymore way, but in a it’s-better-to-say-goodbye-this-way way. That they came to say goodbye at Christmas and see me one last time, but handed over Mr Bowtie as a ‘go do what you need to do, we allow you to go and move on with your path in life’.”

“You can’t believe that, surely?”

“It’s probably for the best. If I know I am no longer my Fathers son, then I can become Master’s sub without any self-consciousness.”

“If that’s true, why are Trent and Jeff going to come get us?”

“Why aren’t our parents coming to get us if they still want us?” Blaine counters.

“Who says your parents aren’t raising money? Just because our friends come and visit doesn’t mean your parents don’t want to. Haven’t you noticed that no-one’s parents have come? If I had to put money on it, I would say they are not allowed due to some old rubbish rule about subs not able to be owned by family or something ridiculous. But that doesn’t mean they don’t still care!”

“But, they know how much Mr Bowtie meant to me, and I told them to look after him once I was gone, and that’s what I wanted them to remember me with almost. So why would they hand him over? Why? It must be them showing that they renounce me.”

“Blaine, I know your parents. They wouldn’t have done anything. They probably got our stuff through some lie. Remember how we were told about that piece of paper being signed, that allowed us to be taken and tested at sixteen? How it’s one big manipulation. I bet the same goes for your teddy, and my photo. I don’t know, they probably said we were allowed to have one Christmas gift, so bring something important. Our parents probably didn’t know what would happen to them.”

“I don’t know,”

“Okay, so lets say that is true,” Blaine can hear a level of doubt rising in Nick’s mind, but his friend is focused on trying to reassure him. “That doesn’t explain why are friends are coming to get us.”

“They are coming to get you, because you are Jeff’s boyfriend. But they won’t be able to buy me, I just know it. And even if they did, who is to say it’s not because they want a slave? If they owned us, what would be the point? We would be living falsely close to our old life, pretending nothing has changed, but still wearing a collar and not being able to have any say I things.”

“Blaine, it wouldn’t be like that…”

“It would. It would be an illusion of freedom. And if Jeff was to suddenly turn round and start demanding things from you, there would be nothing, absolutely nothing, you could do apart from obey.”

“We know who they are, Blaine. They don’t need a sub. They want their friends back.”

“We are only sixteen. Life changes so much. They might not want a sub now, but what happens when they go off to college, and its easy to make you keep the room clean. What if Jeff meets someone else - we are only young so as much as I ship you two, it’s a possibility – and suddenly you are the ex-boyfriend he can’t get rid of. Or what if he does sell you. I know it’s a long shot, but still. I think the heartbreak of them turning on us would be too much, and I would almost prefer not to know what I have lost.”

“I don’t know. I can’t see why they would do that.”

“Neither can I. And that’s my worry. At least if some random Master is horrible its not a break in trust. But if Trent was to bend me over and spank me, it would hurt so much more than if Hunter was to. But really, the biggest issue would be the illusion of my old life. We go back to Dalton, but we can’t go to lessons or be a part of the Warblers. Our classmates graduate, we don’t. I dreamed of going to New York, but if Trent’s dream is something else then I have to go with him. I don’t get to apply for jobs, to find out if I can make it in the real world on my own. I don’t get to have a one night stand and regret it for the next year. I don’t get to fall in love. I will still be a slave, watching what my life should have been pass me by, just out of reach.”

“It’s still relative freedom.”

“Yeah. But it’s not freedom. Everything is getting so complicated. I just… it’s almost easier to believe my parents don’t want me, and then I can focus on making it through in as big a piece as possible. I wouldn’t be as brave as Jacob was, so I need to try and keep myself as whole as possible.”

“I wonder what happened to Jacob. What happens once we die?” Nick asks, changing the subject.

“I don’t think I want to know.”

“Come on, I know what you are like with cuddles. Let’s squeeze into my cage tonight and snuggle, I think you need it.”

Blaine nods in agreement, the pair squeezing into the cage made for one, both crying silent tears.

 

“Psst, you still awake?”

“Yeah,” Blaine mutters, having been unable to sleep with so many thoughts going round his mind.

“Do you think everyone else is asleep?” Nick asks in a hushed whisper.

“Probably.”

“I have been able to get in contact with Kitty.”

“Oh good. Is she ok?”

“A bit worse for wear, but still going. We have a new plan. Well, re-timed plan.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll spare you the details,”

“Plausible deniability?”

“Exactly. But if it works we won’t have to worry about Jeff and Trent getting us.”

“Is it likely to work?”

“Probably not, but we are going to try. Its being coordinated with people outside.”

“How?” Blaine asks, curious as to how they are able to contact the outside.

“I don’t know. None of us get told everything. But would you be able to meet up with Kitty and point out the two exits that you have to me?”

“Why can’t you do it?”

“I’m not sure I know them well enough. And you are the most likely to get away with it without trouble, as we know.”

“But, both of us going is surely going to increase the risk?”

“Oh, um. No, I meant just you and Kitty. Three of us would be too much of a risk.”

“Oh. Um, was Jacob part of you-know-what?”

“I don’t think so. I know he met with Kitty, but I don’t think anything came of it. But I don’t know everyone in the group. Its all very hush hush, and then if one of us gets found out, the rest of us still stand more of a chance of not being caught.”

Blaine thinks about it for a while, going silent. Jacob died, and he wasn’t part of a risky venture. If you can get into trouble for doing nothing, why not risk doing something?

“Okay, I’ll meet with Kitty. But it must be arranged for a time when we are least likely to get caught.”

“Yes! Thank you. And of course. I will tell Kitty when I next see her and get something arranged. We really would appreciate it. I will really appreciate it, I know how hard this is for you.”

“No more pussyfooting. I definitely want to help, in as big a way as I can. Like, I can’t disobey Master or any of the other staff, I just don’t have it in me, but yeah, this system is wrong. And if I sit by and do nothing, and someone else gets hurt because of it… yeah. So please, don’t ask me to do anything outrageous, but I do want in.”

“I am glad to hear it, Blaine. So glad to hear it.”

 

Nothing more is said about Kitty and the resistance over the next week or so. Nick hasn’t left to go speak to her, to Blaine’s knowledge, so there is nothing more to discuss.

The waiting is killing Blaine. Now he has made the decision to help he wants to get started. Kudos to Nick for being able to patiently wait between meetings for all this time, not knowing for sure what was going on, or why Kitty hadn’t made an appearance.

But of course, the days move on, lessons continuing exactly the same as normal. Truthfully, Blaine is starting to get bored of them now, feeling he isn’t really learning much more than what he had inferred anyway. But he supposes some of the subs don’t have his natural instinct to submit like he does, so he bares through it, trying to learn the lessons but instead practicing his ‘I’m not paying attention but I am listening in case I am called upon’ skill. Probably a skill more useful for his time with a Master than whatever this lesson is about.

Correct communications, he reads on the board. Yeah, he’s working that one out on his own anyway.

He is so relieved when he gets to leave for lunch, kneeling with his little group of four to eat whatever concoction the new group have made now they have a reprieve from kitchen duty. Blaine and Brit kneel, their lunches on the floor in front of them, while Nick and Tina sit crossed legged and rest the trays on their laps for a few moments without full exposure.

There had been an increase in staff recently, so there is no opportunity to chat like they used to. Blaine can’t decide if more staff have been hired or just more guards are on the daily rota, but either way the daily staffing has definitely been upped the last few days.

One of said guards walks towards them on his patrol of the room, walking through the middle of Blaine’s little group.

Blaine can’t say for sure, but he thinks the guard kicks him on purpose was he walks past. Blaine then watches, helpless to do anything, as he kicks over Brittany’s water. That was on purpose from Blaine’s perspective.

“What a retarded slut, getting my trousers wet. I’m going to punish you for that,” he says with an accompanying slap, boyish enthusiasm at the prospect of showing his dominance. “Come on, retard, to the post.”

“No, stop!” Nick objects. “That’s not fair, she didn’t do anything! You knocked it over.”

“And she isn’t a retard,” Tina adds, having discussed one evening how much of a sensitive topic those sorts of words are to Brit.

“I’m sorry, whores, but who asked you two? I guess I’m going to be getting the whip out on three of you whores.”

“Sir, I feel that may be slightly unjust,” Blaine braves to argue, not willing to sit idly by as his friends are punished for something they didn’t do.

“Oh, do you now? Well isn’t it convenient that your feelings don’t matter!” Before Blaine can process the words, Nick lunges at the guard.

Blaine watches in horror as his friend wrestles the obnoxious man, trying to reach his taser. Several of the other guards in the room try to come to their colleges rescue, but are intercepted by other subs apparently having decided this was the perfectly opportunity to start a revolt.

“You can’t call someone that! We aren’t stupid! You are the dick-brained dumb-ass’s, acting all mighty up on your high horses!” Nick shouts at the guard, having successfully disarmed him of the taser. Blaine watches, frozen in shock and horror, and Nick stands over the guard and forces the taser against his neck, leering at the guard.

Nick,” Blaine tries to shout, but it comes out only as a whisper.

By this point, more people have joined in the spontaneous riot. Food is thrown and punches are dodged as more guards enter the room.

Blaine and Brittany shuffle towards the edge of the room out of the way as Nick and Tina attack another guard trying to come to his friends rescue. They aren’t the only ones moving to get out the way, the room being split about half and half between those fighting and those hiding.

He doesn’t understand why his friends are acting this way, seemingly having snapped and a switch has flicked their personalities. While Nick never really stood for injustice, he never raised a fist to anyone, even refusing to join Dalton’s fight club.

The system must be getting to him more than he let on.

A high pitch alarm sounds throughout the room, forcing Blaine to cover his ears in attempt to protect them. He notices most of the subs have a similar reaction to him, the ones fighting being forced to stop. None of the guards seem to be affected by the noise acting as though they can’t hear it – which must be impossible at such a deafening sound. A few of the older looking subs also appear to be unaffected, however with the loss of solidarity in their war they slowly start to give in.

Suddenly the noise cuts off, as if it never existed in the first place.

“What the fuck is going on?” Hunter shouts, having arrived unnoticed among the chaos. He turns to the closest guard, expecting an answer.

“No idea. I got a distress call on the radio and when I arrived it was full out war,” one of the guards tries to explain.

“Greg?” Hunter asks, turning to the closest guard on his other side.

“John was getting attacked and a few others went over to help, then everything just seemed to escalate,” another guard, Greg, answers.

“What intakes are in here?” Hunter asks, almost sounding bored.

“Umm, August, July…” the guard looks around the room, considering who else is there, “December and March.”

“Fuck. March hasn’t been here long,” he mutters. “Right, take everyone back to their cells and I’m going to review the tapes.”

The energy of the room dissipates, the organisation having won this round as guards start collecting up the subs and sending them to the cells. Blaine is hauled up roughly and pushed in the direction of the exit by one of the guards closest to him.

Everyone is herded through the corridors, the staff checking the ID’s on their necks and pushing each sub into the correct room. Once all of his group is accounted for back in the cell, the door is shut and locked.

“Well, shit,” Nick exclaims, nursing his injured arm once out of ear shot.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Blaine says, trying to focus on what he can resolve now to try and push of the panic bubbling to the surface. “Are you ok staying with Brit?” he asks Tina. At the girls nod, he leads Nick into the washroom with a gentle hand on his friends back.

“That wasn’t meant to happen.” Nick forces a laugh. “Ouch,” he says, heading over to the showers to clean some of the blood off.

“Not part of your plan?” Blaine tries to joke.

“No, not at all. Also, Hunter is going to look at CCTV. One, I didn’t realise there was CCTV, and two, if he goes back and catches me or Kitty or one of the others out and about, what kind of shit are we going to be in! Since when was there CCTV?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine answers honestly. “Hopefully he won’t see a need to look back through old footage. But I could have sworn there didn’t used to be any cameras. Not that I can’t remember any today either.”

“Maybe it’s a new thing. Hopefully it’s a new thing. Oh, ouch.” Blaine flinches in sympathy as Nick probes at his arm.

“Let me help,” Blaine offers. “Good job the water is nice and cold,” he jokes, seeing a bruise already starting to form on Nick’s stomach.

“I dread to think what is going to come from this. Fuck!”

“So much for staying out of trouble.”

“I know. But sometimes I just can’t stop myself from standing up for others.”

 

A few hours later Hunter arrives to deliver the verdict.

“Everyone who was in the hall, so all of you lot, are on a water only diet for the next week. 1452 and 9103, come with me.” He says, tone leaving no room for arguments. He waits, holding the door open as Nick and Tina make their way over and out into the corridor, Hunter locking it behind them.

As Blaine watches them being led away, his concern for his friends’ skyrockets.

Chapter Text

Blaine doesn’t pay attention to his lessons the following morning, his mind more focused on his friends whereabouts.

As the lesson draws to a close, the group start standing up to head to the lunchroom.

“Stop,” the guard orders. “Where do you think you are going? For the next week while on punishment you will remain in the room during lunch.”

Blaine had forgotten about that part of the consequence, really hoping he would be able to see his friends at lunch tied to the posts. As bad as he feels for wishing that punishment on his friends, from how Nick was after the isolation he hopes its something more mild this time.

The guard swaps with someone else, apparently taking over for the lunch shift in the room, followed by one of the clothed subs. She places a crate of bottled water down at the front of the room before following the original guard back out. The new guard sits down behind the desk, pulling out a book and ignoring the group.

Blaine feels daggers being stared into his back as he collects a bottle of water for himself and Brittany, trying to ignore the others. It probably isn’t aimed at him, he is probably making it up in his head feeling a bit self-conscious. He’s not exactly besties with the group anyway.

 

That evening Blaine sits in the floor across from his cage, trying to keep up with Brittany’s random conversation and failing miserably.

He is distracted by the white sheet of paper plastered across the front of his cage, as innocent looking as always. The bold black print of his ID code a stark contract to the shiny white page, reflecting back the artificial lights in the cell.

That really is all he is now; all they all are. Every occupied cage has an identical piece of paper, varied only by the digits on the front. 5226, 4762, 1452. What’s the difference between them all? A batch code representing a group – their birthdays – followed by a few random numbers so they can be distinguished from one another when logged in a system.

He stares at the paper as though by looking hard enough he will set it alight, erasing 5226 from his life completely.

He used to be told he was special, a one-of-a-kind. He would make it as a big star on Broadway, maybe even TV as well. He knew it was an unrealistic dream, but sometimes dreams could come true. But rather than being in the small group everyone dreams to be in, he is in the small group that’s most peoples nightmares.

If he had known it would be so hard, so demoralising, so dehumanising, would he have thought harder to pass that stupid test? Definitely. Does that change how it is now? Not one bit. Does that make it any easier to deal with? He’ll get back to that when he knows.

Unsurprisingly the paper doesn’t catch fire, so instead he shrugs of the indignity of it all and climbs in his cage to sleep.

 

It takes a few worry-filled days before Nick and Tina return, arriving during one of their sex lessons. Blaine ignores the guard droning on about bondage ties and how to keep yourself safe by not do anything stupid, his eye instead following his friends as the quietly kneel down near him, Tina in front and Nick to his side.

Its hard to miss the state of Tina’s back, making it clear what the pairs punishments had been. The whole area of her back is littered with whip marks crossing over each other, some still bleeding while some looking like they have had a couple of days to develop into a dark purplish shade.  

Blaine looks over at Nick, trying to ask with his expression; are you ok?

“It wasn’t as bad as the isolation,” he whispers, barely audible. Blaine is relieved to hear his friend is better off than after his time in isolation, even if the physical wounds aren’t. Sometimes the mental torment is harder to recover from, and his friend is pretty strong when it comes to the physical.

They don’t risk continuing talking under the nose of the guard, who luckily seemed distracted enough tying one of the subs up to have ignored them so far. Blaine has to carry out the motions of the rest of the day, singing lead in the Song Birds newest routine Here for you (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8PPap4dJog), before finally being released back to their cells.

That evening Nick elaborates.

“It wasn’t a mental punishment, which are so much harder, but my god did it hurt. We where tied on the post and whipped every few hours. That’s an inhumane type of pain. How can another human do that to someone else? And starving us as well, I spent half the time being whipped and half of it passed out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that nick. I don’t know what to say, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just promise me you’ll stay safe. If this is what they are prepared to do to me, I dread to think what Hunter could come up with to punish you, likely trying to avoid leaving a physical mark. It makes me realise just what you may have gone through during that week with him.”

“Don’t, Nick. If anything all that week did was give me a heads up on what was to come.” They head into the washroom, Blaine offering to help Nick clean his back.

As soon as the room empties, the other sub in the room finishing up, Nick starts talking relatively quickly.

“Look, some good did come of it. I got to speak to Kitty again, so it’s not all bad. I told her some of the tour you gave me which she is going to investigate, and then get back to me if she still needs a tour from you or not so your risk in this plan is reduced. And the old original plan is back on. And we do now have a greater understanding of the risks.”

“What’s the plan?”

“I thought you were need-to-know?!”

“Well, yes… I guess.”

“Could you scope out cameras for us please, now we know they must exist?”

“Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

At that point Brittany walks in, the conversation changing to Nick’s back as if that’s all they had been talking about the whole time.

 

The next day, unbeknownst to Blaine, the perfect opportunity to scout out cameras arises.

“5226,” a guard calls, walking into their morning lesson and interrupting the ‘teacher guard’. “Come with me.”

Blaine pauses for a moment, unsure who he is meant to be answering to and if he is dismissed. The teacher guard nods his head, which Blaine takes a signal to follow the other guard.

He is taken to Hunter’s office, a room Blaine is slowly starting to become familiar with. The guard knocks on the door before leaving Blaine there alone, waiting for Hunter’s response from inside.

“Come in, pet,” he calls. The nickname catches Blaine slightly off guard, surprised Hunter knew it would be him. But of course he would know; someone was sent to get him, and Hunter expects his orders to be followed so therefore it would be Blaine at the door.

After a second hesitation, Blaine enters.

“Hey, pet. Come here,” he orders, swivelling his chair to the side behind the desk and pointing at the ground by his feet.

Blaine goes where directed, gracefully kneeling down after the months of practice finally allowing him to pick up a few tips.

“I’m holding job interviews today and am going to use you as a bit of practice-slash-test for them. Take it as a compliment I trust you enough to do this.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“You used to do acting right?” Blaine nods. “I hope you were good, as I am going to need you to draw on some of those skills. To begin with, I need you to just be you; good as gold, staying out the way and doing what you’re told. Then at some point during the interview I will mention your collar or cuffs, you will have to keep listening for it as what I say depends on where the conversation is. At this point I need you to start slowly misbehaving, acting up in whatever way you want and gradually increasing the severity of it in order to test their reaction.” At Blaine’s worried expression, Hunter elaborates. “For instance, start fidgeting, start making a bit of noise, look around the room. Then get a bit louder, change position so you aren’t kneeling, maybe start sighing or tutting at what they say and being rude. That make sense?”

“Yes, Master, thankyou.” Blaine is grateful for the additional directions.

“If they correct you or scold you, settle down for a minute or so then start back up. If they resort to any physical or inappropriate punishment I will try to step in. When I ask them what experience they have with submissives that if your cue to stop. I will not punish you for anything done between these two code-words, if we should call them that, however if you do continue to misbehave after, you will get punished by me. Just because I am asking you to act up for a bit does absolutely not give you permission to do so outside of this role play, understood?”

“Yes, of course Master.”

“Good boy. Make me proud. Now come sit over here,” he starts as he stands up, directing Blaine to kneel near the chair in front of the desk, far enough away it doesn’t appear as though he is positioned purposely next to the interviewee, but close enough to be within range. “I am going to go collect the first candidate, wait here, I shouldn’t be longer than ten minutes.”

Blaine waits for Hunter to leave, his foot steps fading down the hall, before rushing back round to the other side of the desk. He pauses, suddenly wondering if there might be cameras in the office, but after a quick survey of the room he recons Hunter would probably value his privacy too much to have them put up in here.

He wiggles the computer mouse, waking the screen. Amazingly it’s logged in, some confusing database filled with numbers and letters open on the screen. Not sure how long he has before Hunter returns he doesn’t waste time on it. He hovers the mouse over the other open tabs, seeing if anything might be useful. One of the little icons shows a camera icon similar looking to an inbuilt webcam. Hovering over it he realises he has hit the jackpot; it seems it could be an application showing the CCTV of the building. He clicks it open and is amazed to discover that’s exactly what it is.

Unsure how long he has, and dubious Hunter might notice the computer being awake when he left it on the screensaver, Blaine clicks back onto the database and returns to his position where Hunter left him.

He watches anxiously for the screensaver to return, hoping it doesn’t take long.

It just goes off before he hears footsteps outside, Hunter having returned with the first interview.

“In you come. Don’t mind my boy down there, he’s good as gold. Please do feel free to treat him as you would any sub,” he says dismissively, sitting down and inviting the other man to do that same. “So Marcus, would you like to tell me a little about yourself?”

“I have always had a more sort of leadership quality and an interest in different social status and classes. I was the head boy at my school, captain of the football squad, and majored in social science at Stanford University. I am currently working at one of the small state auction houses, and do really enjoy what I do, however feel like I would like to draw upon my leadership skills more and assists in training submissives.”

“What was your role at the auction house?”

“I was on protection detail, although did occasionally help cover sickness in the retraining unit which I really enjoyed.”

“Why did you apply for this job and not stay where you where?”

“Unfortunately there wasn’t any permanent positions coming up in that department when I asked my boss, but he advised me you had positions opening up here, and the job description just seemed exactly what I was looking for.”

“I’m glad to here our subsections are promoting jobs here. And I guess I can skip asking what you know about the company,” Hunter jokes.

“Damn, I was hoping to show off about how I think the service this business does to the country is unmatched by any other company!”

“Stop buttering me up,” Hunter says with a genuine laugh. “How much do you know about our other subsections, things that are a bit distanced from the subs directly, such as collars?” Blaine wonders if this may be the start of his cue.

“I think they are all just as important as the direct line of submissives. Without the collars such as this boy is wearing they whole dynamic would be different.”

They are definitely talking about his collar now. Blaine decides to try a yawn, keeping it just loud enough for someone paying attention to be able to hear, but easily missed.

He is surprised when he gets a slight glare from the man, Marcus, having been paying more attention to Blaine than expected.

“Interesting concept, can you elaborate for me?”

“I can try. I think it would be different on so many levels. During training, like this boy clearly is now, I think it serves as a reminder of their status, helping the training regime. It is also a really handy accessory, and the remote shockers make for a good training tool. Then you also have all the benefits as a tool to restrain them, when they start acting up.” Blaine yawns again, looking around the room this time. The man coughs to get Blaine’s attention. “It should also serve as a reminder of your place boy, and how you should act. Or are you not as well trained as your Master claims?”

Blaine, feeling suitably scolded, mutters a quiet “I am Sir, sorry Sir.”

“Umm, I think you still need a bit of work to prove that. Anyway, back on track…” the guard continues explaining some of the benefits of collars on a social level. Blaine is taken aback by the man, who does seem to have some domineering aura about him that makes Blaine want to behave in his presence.

It takes Blaine a minute or so to rebuild the courage to act up again, drawing on the knowledge it is what his Master wants from him. He shifts a bit in his position, staying kneeling but ‘getting more comfortable’.

The man gives him a look, but doesn’t comment. He continues explaining how he ‘managed in a difficult situation’. As Hunter asks the next question Blaine shifts again, this time to sit cross legged on the floor. This gets the mans attention.

“Now I know you know that’s not how you are meant to sit. As much as I would love to find out exactly how the discipline system works here, I’m sure you would rather not be the first one I get to try it out on would you?”

“No, Sir,”

“I think it might be best if you go sit and face the wall. I’ll let you pick which corner to go sit in.” Blaine looks around the room as if he doesn’t know exactly which corner he is going to pick.

“The one by the radiator, Sir.”

“Good choice,” he praises. “Of you go then.”

Without further comment, Blaine heads over to ‘his’ corner, his back to the room. Blaine would not be surprised to see this man in a guards uniform patrolling through the house soon.

Giving Blaine time to settle down, Hunter resumes his interview.

“So I feel like this is a stupid question at this point, but I’ve got to ask; what’s your experience with submissives?” While the pair chuckle at what seems a redundant question, Blaine takes it as the cue it is and tries to remain on his best behaviour for the rest of the interview.  

He is relieved his task is over, having found it hard to be even the slightest bit rebellious under Hunter’s watch. He hopes there isn’t many interviews today, he isn’t sure how many times he can do that in one go.

Eventually the interview draws to a close, with Hunter offering to give Marcus a tour of the house. As they leave Hunter gives Blaine the command to stay in the room, which Blaine doesn’t object to in the slightest.

He waits to hear the retreating footsteps, and reckoning he has a fair while he returns to the computer, relieved to see it is still unlocked.

He opens the tab he found earlier and tries to sort through all the information he is confronted with. He is surprised to see how many codes are listed at the side. Clicking on each one he confirms his suspicion that each code is a camera. His plan to memorise them all goes; there must be hundreds. He flicks through as quickly as possible to see if there is one covering Hunters office, and is relieved to see he can only find one that covers the door from in the corridor, nothing showing what is going on in the room itself.

He resorts to a back up plan, trying to remember some of the cameras so when he walks past one he can try to spot it, and then can hunt the others down.

Or more likely, point it out to Nick and let him and Kitty hunt down the rest.

He has gone through seven or so images, working out where the camera is going to be located and angled, as he hears footsteps approaching. In a mad panic he switches back to the tab that was unopen, not returning the CCTV to the camera it was originally open on, and rushing back to his corner.

He sits down with his legs out to the side, not trying to hide the fact he’s moved, but looking as though his movement was contained to the corner. He stills just as the door opens, Hunter returning.

“Come here, pet,” he orders, heading over to his chair.

Please dear god don’t notice the computer screen is on!

Blaine kneels down in front of him, the same position as when he was first called to Hunter office earlier.

“Well done, I’m proud of you,” because you don’t know what I did while you where away. “What did you think of Marcus?”

“He would make a good guard, Master.”

“What was he like as a dom?”

“Well, umm. He has some sort of aura to him that made me feel like he must be listened to, Master. If he was to punish me I feel he would be firm but fair, explain what I had done wrong and help me to correct myself.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” He stroke Blaine’s hair in the way that normally relaxes Blaine, however this time the racing of his heart is unable to be slowed. As if in slow motion, Blaine watches with mild fear as Hunter faces his desk, noticing the computer screen is on.

Without seeming too concerned Hunter mutters “Oh, oops, I’d didn’t realise I was still logged in.” He looks towards Blaine. “With all these people coming and going I’d best shut it off, hadn’t I? Save electricity and all,” he adds with a laugh. Blaine can’t tell if Hunter is at all suspicious, the man too hard to read. But if Hunter’s words are the extent of the thought process; how the hell did Blaine get away with that?

 

The next interviewee was rubbish, stumbling over his words and rambling about all kinds of rubbish unrelated to the job he was interviewing for. When it was time for Blaine’s test the man all but ignored him. Although in his defence, Blaine reasons, with the boss sat opposite he may have expected Hunter to correct any of Blaine’s misbehaviours. That guy wasn’t offered a tour of the house.

The third and fourth people, one male and one female, where both better than the second, although didn’t appear to be anything special to Blaine. They were both offered tours of the house at the end, although when Hunter returned after each he seemed to be on the fence.

Thankfully that was all Blaine was required to assist with, and he was dismissed back to his cell.

As he walks back he tries to recall the cameras he paid attention to, and knows one of them is down this corridor. Because he is trying not to make it obvious he is looking for something he almost misses the camera as he walks past. What almost looks light a little spotlight fixture is in the place he suspects the camera to be, innocent looking but just unusual enough to be suspect.

He spots several more of these little spotlight cameras as he walks back to the cells. They don’t seem to be covering every corridor, but Blaine doubts there is a route through the building in which you could avoid them all.

He looks forwards to reporting his findings back to Nick.

Chapter Text

After having shared his findings about the cameras, Blaine and Nick spot them everywhere as they go about their day. The moment they think they might have just walked out of range of one, they spot the next angled their way. It’s impossible to remember the location of all of them, so instead they start trying to remember places where there isn’t any big brother watching over them.

That proves easier, as so far they have a grand total of zero places to remember as potential meeting points.

Well, there is Hunter’s office, but Blaine doesn’t think he even needs to explain why that would be a bad idea. Not to mention the camera over the door that would catch them going in anyway.

He can tell the lack of privacy is starting to grate on Nick’s nerves, his best friend starting to get snappy and testy with everyone.

"It's like you're on your period," Blaine jokes one evening unsuccessfully. Nick gave him a glare before heading into the washroom, not speaking to him the rest of the evening. The girls weren't impressed with his joke either.

"Why do men always think when a woman is pissed off its because they are on their period. Can girls never simply be fed up with all the bullshit they are subjected to?" Tina protests, crossing her arms.

Blaine doesn't think it's wise to suggest maybe it's her time of the month too, so keeps his mouth shut.

The next day, after Blaine apologies to Nick and the pair are on better terms once again, Nick snaps at one of the guards.

"I am kneeling! I'm being subservient! Why does it matter what exact angle my head is tilted at?" He shouts at the guard.

"Because you should do what you are told and remember what you have already been taught," the guard answers, administering a quick electric shock. Nick is quiet for the rest of the lesson, but Blaine can tell something is still simmering under the surface, and he doesn't know what he should do to help his friend.

The trend continues over a few days, Nick unable to hold his tongue and snapping out something stupid. Luckily he has avoided anything more severe than the taser so far, but Blaine is concerned how far this 'luck' will last. If luck really is the right word for it.

“I’m meeting Kitty tonight,” Nick whispers one afternoon when they have been dismissed early from the song birds practice.

The pair are sat directly below the cells camera, hopefully out of its view, having discovered the two cameras above the door to the washroom. One is angled towards the entrance to the cell, covering their cages, while the other is in the washroom, watching them all as they shower.

Blaine tries not to let that lack of privacy rub him the wrong way, but it's hard knowing someone is watching you take a crap and clean your armpits. What could be the reason behind needing cameras in the washrooms other than to watch their every move? Who in their right mind is going to attack a guard when they are already in such a vulnerable position. More so even than their normal naked-ness.

Who in their right mind. Yeah, as if anyone here has a right mind left to have.

“Nick, that’s too risky," Blaine objects, struggling to keep his voice low. They might be sat below the camera so they can't be seen, but the pair aren't certain there isn't audio as well.

“I know, but we aren’t getting anywhere! And as long as we cause no reason for them to check the footage, it will be fine right?”

“I don’t know...”

“Kitty has been told of a place where we can talk, we just risk the cameras picking us up walking there, but they can’t punish us for anything more than being out of bounds. It’s a weighted risk.”

"Are you sure it's somewhere private?"

"The information has come from an insider source, she is as confident as you can be in this world that the area is fine."

"Insider source? I'm not convinced, Nick, it sounds a little risky..."

"Sometimes you have to take a risk in trusting someone. How else would she have connections to the outside?" Nick lowers his voice even further. "She faked the test to get admitted here, she is part of a whole big scheme to close the house down from the inside. If she says this new person is to be trusted, I'm going to take her word for it. She has shown no reason she is distrustful so far."

"Where's this private place?"

"Just a hallway. But Kitty's person is able to delete the footage for us. But they can't risk deleting too much or it will be suspect, so it's only going to be the meet they get rid of."

“If you really believe this person is trustworthy then I will take your word for it, but please be careful Nick, don't do something stupid."

"I'm always careful."

"I can think of a few times you haven't been. What about when you freestyled in the Warblers rehearsal and knocked over the Dalton bust that time?"

"That was years ago Blaine, you can't still hold that over my head!" Nick laughs, the conversation becoming more light-hearted for a moment.

"Look, do you want me to go to the meet? I’m more likely to get away with being out of bounds,” Blaine reasons. "And Hunter might be more lenient if he does catch me…"

“The sort of punishment he might come up with for you is part of the reason I don't want you to get yourself in trouble here. That man is malicious, he would come up with something that would break you in more ways than just a few cuts across your back in order to 'not damage' you. I’d rather suffer the consequences of being caught than knowing you are suffering because of me. And need-to-know, but that plan that’s back on? We are finalising my role tonight, so I need to go.”

“Wait, what! How did this come about?”

“New insider knowledge, we have a small window opening up soon. That’s why we decided we can take the risk. Soon, this should all be over.”

“You are kidding me, right?”

“I really hope not.”

Blaine can’t imagine what kind of future he might now have within his reach.

 


 

A few days after the next auctions, Blaine notices a change in the air.

And it’s not a welcomed one.

In such a closed environment, it would only be inevitable that any bugs would spread quickly. Maybe it was a visitor at the auctions, or maybe a guard bought it in, but there is definitely a flu outbreak starting. And of course none of them have been vaccinated against it recently, so it’s only a matter of time before they all become ill.

To begin with those that are ill are expected to push through it, but eventually the guards get fed up of vomit everywhere those infected were allowed to remain in their cages. Although of course this doesn’t stop the spread of the virus, even if it does slow its progress slightly.

“This is horrible,” Blaine complains one afternoon, having been dismissed early due to staff sickness. “You’d think they would have done something to prevent against illness like this. I hate being sick, hate it, and I know it’s only a matter of time until I catch something.”

“This is brilliant,” Nick counters.

“I’m sorry, but are you missing the fact it’s only going to be a few days until we all inevitably fall ill?” Blaine eyes Tina as she starts heaving, praying she makes it to the washroom first.

“I was up to date on my flu vaccines before being imprisoned, so I might be ok. But that’s not the reason,” he says with a smile. Blaine waits for his friend to elaborate, and sighs when he realises he isn’t going to without prompting.

“Fine, what is this amazing plan that means us all being sick is a good thing?”

The plan. Staff levels are low, it is the ideal time for The Plan. I am just waiting for the go signal from Kitty, and we are out of here!”

“What?” Blaine shifts to his knees, facing his friend. “You’re serious. This abstract idea is actually going to happen?”

“We have one shot. It’s going to happen. And soon!”

 


 

And soon does come, even sooner than Blaine expects. The next day they are once again dismissed early for the day, and Nick slips out on the way back to their cell with a wink.

Blaine doesn’t know what he expects to happen, what cue he might get or where he has to go. Maybe some fireworks, or lots of noise, or someone dressed in gold coming in and leading the way out, but none of it does. Instead he waits. And he waits. And he waits.

Maybe Nick was up to something else, and it’s not time to carry out the plan just yet. He finds it hard to believe that this could actually be happening. Now. Today. All this learning how to be a good sub, accepting his inevitable purchase by Hunter, hoping his friends can save enough for Nick, all of it might be over in the next few hours!

He tries not to get his hopes up too high. Blaine doesn't know what's going on, what's meant to be happening. This could be the pre-stage of the plan, ready to execute tomorrow, or in a few days. He only winked, he didn’t exactly say what was going to happen. Maybe something else needs finalising, or something else needs scouting out. He half hopes it is, because if not then this whole big plan thing is kinda boring.

The cell door opens, revealing Hunter.

“Due to the recent flu outbreak, I am putting the facility on lockdown for roughly two weeks starting today. Your meals will be bought in here, and you will be given some theory work to keep you occupied, but until the flu has made its way through everyone, you will remain in here.” Without a goodbye, Hunter leaves. Blaine hears the door lock behind him, and something makes him think this isn’t a part of the big plan.

Nick said the flu outbreak was a good thing though, right? Maybe being locked in is all part of the plan; making sure every sub is down one corridor so it's easier to lead everyone out. One of Kitty's inside men probably has the keys to let them all out, so being locked in doesn't make a difference, only that it ensures they know where everyone is when it comes to getting them all out.

That must be it.

He doesn’t know what to do, so he does all he can and just waits. (And tries to stay away from all the coughing, sneezing, vomiting people).

 


 

Some time passes before Blaine notices a funny smell. He can’t place his finger on what it is, but his instincts tell him it’s bad.

“Can anyone else smell that?” Lucy asks, concerned.

“Yeah, what is it?” Max replies.

“I’m not sure. Smoke?” she questions.

“Maybe we are getting a barbeque!” Brit pipes up.

The smell starts intensifying, causing Blaine to cough and splutter a little.

“Oh, shit! It’s a fire!” someone shouts, followed by the blaring sound of a fire alarm, confirming suspicions.

Being closest to the door, Blaine tries to open it.

“I… I can’t, it won’t budge,” he starts to panic, fearing they are trapped in a burning building. He moves aside as Max steps forwards, also giving the door a tug.

“Shit. It’s locked. Oh shit. We are going to burn to death,” he shouts above the volume of the alarm.

“Don’t be silly,” one of the girls say, “They must have a safety feature. I’m sure it will trigger and unlock, letting us out.”

Apparently the safety feature is a sprinkler system, which decides now is the time to work.

Blaine, Max, and one of the other boys gather together, all trying to pull on the door. It doesn’t budge.

“Come on, we must be able to get it open,” the boy encourages. They try again, but with the added slippiness of the sprinkler water they struggle to get a good enough grip. Blaine is just about to give up when the door opens with a final tug.

However, their relief is short lived as Nick is shoved through the door by an angry looking guard.

Before they can recover from shock, the door is shut and locked again. They all look expectantly at Nick, waiting for an answer as to what’s going on.

“Fuck. I am so dead.”

Chapter Text

"Shit shit shit shit shit," Nick swears under his breath, hands pulling at his hair.

"Nick, calm down," Blaine tries, grabbing at his friends wrists.

"I'm done for. I am so done."

"Why, what's the matter?"

"You can't be this stupid Blaine! What do you mean what's the matter!" He shouts.

"Okay. Is this part of the plan? Is the fire the distraction."

"Of course it's the distraction!" He shouts, finally letting go of his hair. "But this isn't the plan, this isn't the plan. We were meant to get out. It's all gone wrong. And they will think it was me. No, they will know it was me. Because you know what Blaine? I might not have started the fire, but I was a part of this plan."

"Calm down, please. What is going on, Nick? What's happening?"

"Nothing! Nothing is happening. Our one chance and its failed. The plan hasn't worked," he shouts, arms thrown up in the air.

"That's okay, it's fine. You will just have to try again."

"No, I can't. Don't you get it? This was the chance. The one chance! And we blew it. Somehow, someone, found out. We are screwed. I'm screwed. Thank fuck I kept you out of this, Blaine. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Nick, please. Slow down. You aren't making any sense."

"See, look, you got me!" He shouts towards the camera in the cell, arms thrown in the air again. "You win, okay! That's what you wanted to see, isn't it? You win. You've broken me. I know I can't get out, it's over!"

"Nick, stop it, even if there is no audio they might lip read."

"If doesn't matter anymore, Blaine. I'm done for anyway."

"You don't know that, they might not. You said you had someone who could delete the footage."

"Yeah, from the other day. But not today's footage. He isn't working today. They will discover me before it can be deleted. I was already caught out of bounds today, it won't take them long to put two and two together. They are going to kill me. And if they don't, I'm sure whatever they have in store will make me wish I was."

 


 

Nothing happens for a few days. They remain locked in the cell, food delivered by a clothed sub along with worksheets from a guard each morning.

It takes a lot of effort, but eventually Blaine, Tina and Brittany are able to get Nick on a more level headed plane. 

Blaine doesn't know what's going on, but eventually they are released from their quarantine without any news about the attempted escape. 

"I'm scared, Blaine," Nick whispers one evening. 

"Huh?" 

"Nothing has happened. They must know I had something to do with it. Why haven't they said anything? Why haven't I been punished yet?"

"Maybe they don't know. You didn't organise it, you didn't plan it, you didn't do it."

"I don't know. That just seems too easy. Too convenient, too lucky. That can't be the case."

"Maybe this one time it is. The stars aligned and have given you a free pass. Maybe they know you have something to do with it, but don't know enough to pin anything on you. If the footage was deleted and all they have you on is being out of bounds, maybe they have more to deal with than worrying about you, and they really have let you off that easily."

"Maybe making me wait is part of the punishment."

 


 

Their routine resumes to normal, lessons carried out as if nothing has happened. 

And to the knowledge of most, nothing has.

The pair haven't been able to spot Kitty in the canteen so far, but Blaine is sure that's just a coincidence. They never have lunch at the same time with the same groups of subs, so chances are their paths just haven't crossed yet.

Apparently Nick has been able to spot their insider guard and knows he is okay and still in a job, although refuses to tell Blaine which one it is.

"Need-to-know," Nick reminds when he asks. Blaine wants to tell him to screw the need-to-know policy now the time for the plan has come and past, since it doesn’t matter now, but he holds his tongue. 

After lunch Blaine is sent to Hunter's office. He has a moment of panic thinking Hunter suspects him of something, before realising he should be in another 'sex education' class right now, so it's just time for another of his one-on-one lessons.

When he arrives he breathes a sigh of relief, his theory proved true.

"Come here, pet," Hunter instructs.

Blaine kneels in front of Hunter, a position he is becoming used to.

"You are going to show me what you remember about blow jobs, but today I'm going to see if I can improve your technique so they can stand highly on merit alone, not just because the sight of you on your knees is enough to make anyone hard." Hunter spreads his legs , placing his feet each side of Blaine. "Begin," he orders.

Blaine reaches for Hunters fly, about to open it before he is stopped.

"No, you need to work on your foreplay more. Just grabbing my dick won't always be enough, you need to turn, me, on," he says strongly.

Blaine raises his eyebrow, feeling a little cheeky. And wanting to please Hunter to keep him distracted, but he won’t admit to that!

"Like this Master?" He crawls forwards, making sure to sway his behind as he covers the very short distance.

He noses at the mound in Hunters jeans playfully. 

"Yes, like that," Hunter encourages. Blaine mouths at the tenting pants, sucking the denim and trying to ignore the taste. 

He hears Hunter groan above him. Encouraged, he raises his hands to undo the button of his flies.

Putting his hands back to the floor for balance Blaine gently clasps the zip between his teeth. 

Looking up through his eyelashes he sees Hunter looking down on him with a smile.

"If you keep that up, I don't think I will have much teaching to do!"

"Do you want me to stop, Master?" Blaine teases, backing off having finished with the zip.

"Absolutely not!" Hunter exclaims, thrusting his hips up to pull his pants and underwear down below his crotch.

Blaine shuffles closer for a better angle. He blows across the surface of Hunter’s dick, making him tingle.

"Pet, don't tease!" Blaine just smiles up at him as though he knows exactly what he is doing. Totally not making it up on the spot in the hopes of a mind-blowing orgasm removing any remaining thoughts of the circumstances surrounding the fire that's closed several corridors. No, no ulterior motive at play here.

He licks a stripe along the top of Hunter's cock, starting at the base and finishes with a tease at Hunter's slit.

"I have taught you well."

Trying not to react to the two sided compliment, Blaine repeats his previous action. Hunter sighs in pleasure.

The next time Blaine leans forwards he presses a little kitten lick to the end of Hunter's cock before swallowing down the length.

"That's it!" Hunter grips the chair hard, forcing himself to stay still for Blaine. 

Blaine slowly works the length of flesh doing as he has been taught before.

"I want you to take your time. Explore."

Blaine nods slightly in acknowledgement, running his tongue around the circumference on the underside of the dick. 

"That's better, keep going," Hunter encourages. 

Blaine pulls back slightly, running his tongue along with his movement. Hunter groans above him. 

"Use your tongue to add a bit of pressure, rather than just a delicate stroke." 

Blaine struggles to get the right positioning for the slight alteration and ends up gagging. He pulls off to take a breath and gather himself before continuing.

Hunter doesn't comment on his slip up, but the disappointed look is enough to set him back into action with renewed vigor.

He can tell Hunter starts getting close, his hands coming up to grip Blaine's hair and take more control of the situation. Blaine lets himself be led by the strong hands, focusing on maintaining the pressure Hunter asked for without choking, when they are interrupted by a knock at the door.

"One moment," Hunter breaths out, leaving no illusions as to what's happening in the office.

The pace is sped up once again as Hunter starts to near his climax. 

Blaine braces through his Master's orgasm, reluctantly swallowing as he is expected to. 

Hunter pushes Blaine back, shuffling a little further, as his Master tucks himself away to appear more presentable to whoever is on the other side of the door. 

"Come in," he calls, blissed out. 

"We've got the last one," the visitor says. Blaine recognises the voice of the guard as the first interviewee he helped with. Max? Matthew?

Marcus, that's the one.

Hunter sighs.

"Oh, of course you would be involved, I should have seen this one coming."

Blaine looks over and his heart stops, blood turning cold.

At the feet of the guard, underneath all the bruises, is Nick.

“So then, slut,” Hunter starts, his tone completely different to how he was with Blaine just moments before. “Care to enlighten me?

“I have no idea what you mean,” Nick spits. Blaine almost doesn’t dare to breathe, fearing it would affect the air flow and set everything off. 

“Oh, drop the fucking act! You think you wouldn’t be found out? You think I don’t know everything that goes on in this building!”

“I admit nothing.”

“Oh, you say that as if we need an admission. I suspected something was up, although couldn’t put my finger on it. Good job then that when I hired my buddy here, he agreed to help spy for me. He was a member of this so called resistance you and your friend were involved in, but only so it could be brought down from the inside.”

“You traitor!” Nick shouts at Marcus. “Kitty trussed you!”

“Oh yes, Kitty. I can assure you she has been dealt with.”

“What have you done with her?” Nick shouts, lunging at Hunter. The man simply steps out of Nick’s way, the boy in too much of a rage to be able to change his course in time. 

As if they have all the time in the world, the guard walks over to where Nick is sprawled over the floor, grabbing his collar and pulling him up onto his knees.

“I wouldn’t worry about her, she is out of her misery now. As soon as we got all the information out of her we could she became dispensable. I would be more concerned about your own safety.”

“Fuck you, I’m not telling you anything!” Nick looks over at Blaine, pure fiery determination behind his eyes.

“Oh, your little girlfriend said the same thing too at first, but look where that got everyone she spoke to. I’m disappointed you were able to get as far with your plan as you did, I must admit, but we will make up for that. So, who else was in on the plan?”

“I’m not telling you anything!” 

Hunter tuts, looking up at Marcus. 

“Oh, I see how it is. I’m sure that won’t last long.”

“It didn’t for the others,” Marcus adds with a laugh.

Nick looks back over at Blaine, puckering his lips in a ‘sending a kiss’ gesture. 

"Blaine, don't do anything stupid."

They say moments like this happen in slow motion, but for Blaine time is moving too fast.

Nick breaks free from the guards grasp, dropping his weight to the ground suddenly. He lunges to the side, grabbing at Hunter’s desk until he comes across a sharp letter opener. 

"Be safe. Keep your head down and make your way out of this shit hole in one piece,” he says to Blaine.

With those final words, he stabs the letter opener into his chest. He pulls it back out, letting the metal object drop to the floor with a clang. The noise sends shivers through Blaine.

"No! Nick!" He lunges forwards, finally able to move. Just before he reaches his friend there is resistance on his neck, choking him. He turns to see Hunter gripping his collar, holding him back.

Blaine doesn't know where the strength comes from, but he thrashes about until Hunter is unable to keep hold of him, not caring how much he chokes himself in the process.

He must get to his friend.

"Nick," he calls again, dropping to his knees. He reaches forwards, putting pressure on the wound to try and stop the blood flow, knowing it's futile but needing to try anything. 

Blaine knows there is shouting going on around him, but blocks it all out to focus on Nick.

"Please, Nick, don't do this. Stay with me. Please, please, please," he begs, watching blood seep out between his fingers, frantically trying to keep it in.

"Tell Jeff I loved him," Nick chokes out. 

"No no no. You need to tell him yourself. Fight with me Nick, fight to stay here with me."

Blaine watches helplessly as his friend slowly closes his eyes.

"Nick," he wails. Faintly he registers hands at his shoulders, trying to pull him back, but he can't allow those hands to withdraw him. He has to fight for his friend.

A look of peace settles on Nick's face, he features relaxing. Blaine refuses to accept what that might mean.

This is all part of Nick's plan, to get them out. He's pretending. Luring the staff into a false sense of security. 

It must be.

He is going to send Blaine his signature wink and then attack Hunter. 

This is part of his plan to get himself and Blaine out. 

His friend can't be dead. He can't be. Not Nick.

But that expression is one of genuine peace. An expression Blaine hasn't seen on his friend since bumping into him all those months ago in the holding center lunch room. 

Blaine holds his breath, listening for one from his friend. 

For the slightest sign that he is okay. He is just acting. Pretending. 

But there is no hiss of air flow. There is no rise of his chest.

His friend has found his escape from the system.

Blaine throws himself over Nick's body, eyes bawling. 

"Just give him a minute," he registers Hunter saying in the background. 

"Nick, Nick, please. Please don't be gone. Please," he begs in denial.

Tears roll from his eyes, landing upon Nick. His friend doesn't react to the wet drops upon his chest.

He tries to do CPR compressions, but it’s not something he knows how to. And with the amount of blood from his friend, Blaine isn’t sure anything he could do would make a difference now. 

"Nick Nick Nick…" he blabbers.

Blaine kneels up, shaking his friend.

"Wake up, open your eyes. I can fix this, we can get you mended. Just wake up." 

His shaking is interrupted, Hunter kneeling behind him and gripping Blaine's hands to hold them still.

"Let go for me, pet. Come on, let go." Reluctantly Blaine let's go, his friends lifeless body falling back.

"Master, you can save him right?" He begs, turning to face Hunter. "Please, for me. Call the doctors, call an ambulance. Save him!"

"Sshh," Hunter tries to soothe, pulling Blaine around and leaning him into his chest. "Ssshh, it's ok. Hush now, I'll sort it. It's fine."

"Will Nick be fine?" Blaine asks hopefully between sobs.

"I will sort it all out. Don't worry. Hush now pet," he says carefully, rubbing soothing circles along Blaine's back. "It's okay, I'll look after you."

He lets Blaine stay like that until his tears start to run dry, his sobs still raking silently through his body. 

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up," he says, pulling Blaine up.

Too weak to resist Blaine allows himself to be led out the office, Hunter ensuring he blocks Blaine's view of Nick's lifeless form behind them. 

Blaine doesn't pay attention to where he is taken, eventually arriving at a shower room. 

Hunter leads him over to the wall, turning on the spray uncaring of the splashback landing upon himself.

"Hey, it's alright," Hunter tries to smooth, "I'm here, I'll look after you. It's okay."

Blaine is too numb to register that the water is warm for once.

Blaine is too tired to enjoy the scent of high quality products.

Blaine doesn't care enough to be put out by the intimacy of the Hunter washing him.

He watches as the water transitions from a light pink tone to clear, Hunter washing Nick's blood from Blaine. Washing away his existence. 

Blaine didn't realise he had any more tears to give, but somehow his body is able to conjure up some more.

Once Hunter has finished he grabs a towel from a shelf, drying Blaine off.

He wraps the towel around Blaine's waist, giving him another on the list of luxuries he isn't normally allowed access to.

Again, Blaine lets himself be led by Hunter. Eventually they arrive in a bedroom, surprising Blaine once again having expected to be taken back to his cell.

"Come on, I feel you need a bit of comfort tonight," he says, tucking Blaine into bed. He reaches into a nightstand, pulling out a bottle and popping of the cap. "Drink up, you need to replace your liquid so you don't dehydrate."

Part of Blaine wants to throw the drink back at Hunter, 'how dare you think this is ok', but he is too tired to do anything other than obey. 

"I'll be back in a moment. Don't do anything stupid while I'm away."

Hunter steps back out into the hall, his muffled voice traveling through the closed door as he tells the person on the other end that he won't be home tonight. 

Blaine couldn't care less. Hunter won't be home tonight; well Nick won't ever get to go home again.

His tears return with vengeance. 

Hunter steps back into the room, kicking of his shoes and climbing into the bed behind Blaine.

"Just sleep, pet. This is an issue for tomorrow. I can go get some tablets if you think you will need help?"

Blaine shakes his head into the pillow, but Hunter is able to recognise the response. 

"That's okay. Ssshh, I've got you. You can relax. I'm here," he whispers, throwing his arm over Blaine's stomach and pulling him into a spooning embrace. 

Amazingly in the comfort of a protective embrace, after his tears have run dry once more, he is able to fall into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Text

He wakes up in his cage, slightly confused about how he got there. Someone must have moved him while he was asleep. 

No idea of the time, but feeling the most awake he has in ages, he gets up and goes about his normal morning business. 

When he returns he can’t help but look at Nick’s cage. 

He stops in his tracks, heart beating as he holds his breath. There is someone in Nick’s cage, a scarred back facing towards him. 

In disbelief, Blaine counts the other subs in their cages. Everyone else is accounted for… so who does that leave in Nick’s cage?

He runs over, throwing himself to his knees and opening the cage door.

“Nick?” He asks, gently shaking the form in front of him. “Nick?” he gets groan in response. 

“Nick? Wha- Are you ok?” he asks, so many questions running through his mind. 

“I’m fine. Blaine, how early is it?”

“I don’t know. What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” Nick grunts, starting to roll over to look at Blaine.

“How come they haven’t taken you to the hospital wing or something?”

“What, for the lash marks? Don’t be silly. They are starting to heal on their own now anyway.”

Blaine looks down at his friends abdomen. His ungrazed, unmarked, chest. 

“Was yesterday a dream?”

“I have no idea, Blaine. What so you think happened yesterday?”

“You died!”

“Well, I’m here so…” 

Blaine breaths a massive sigh of relief; it must have been a nightmare. Nick is fine.

“Oh my god,” he burst out into tears, lunging forwards and embracing Nick. 

“Good morning to you too,” Nick says, slightly confused. 

“I thought, I-I thought, I thought you died. Master worked out that you were involved in the fire and bought you in to be punished, and he was going to torture you until you gave up everything you knew. So you, you killed yourself.”

“Nice to know I still make sense in your drea- wait, how do you know about the plan?”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t think I told you about the plan, I didn’t want you knowing for exactly that reason.”

“You didn’t tell me, it happened. Or was that not the plan?”

“No, the plan is to set a fire as a distraction, our insiders to turn on the guards, and allow everyone else to sneak out the guards entrance, and people will be waiting for us. But it’s not happening until tonight.”

“It’s not happened?”

“No, it’s not. Maybe I did mention something to you, and you dreamed about it? Pretty accurate dream,” he laughs. 

Blaine breathes another sigh of relief, wiping away his tears. 

“I’m so glad you are okay.”

 

No time seems to have passed before he is in his first lesson of the day. Unusually the guard isn’t there yet. 

Nick leans over and whispers to him.

“Blaine, I have got one job for you tonight. I need you to lead everyone to the exit. A handful of people have been told the way, but if you want direct as many people as possible that will help. Leave through the guards exit, and get onto the bus. Members of the rebellion will be there and take us to a safe house, completely off the grid. We will stay there for a while until everything settles - they are preparing for us to have to hide out for up to a year. I should hopefully join you on the second bus to leave as soon as i’ve done what I need. Can you do that for me?”

Blaine is about to reply but stops before he says anything, noticing the guard at the front of the room having arrived at some point through Nick’s explanation. Blaine freezes, expecting to be scolded for talking, assuming he didn’t hear what was being discussed. But apparently he was in such a fluster from being late he didn’t notice. 

Blaine isn’t going to point it out.

 

It feels like only a moment later when Blaine is in the cell. The door is being unlocked by Marcus. Blaine watches him dubiously, not sure if he is to be trusted. 

“Pet,” he says, confusing Blaine. Only Hunter calls him pet. Nethertheless, Blaine follows when he is beckoned. 

They walk down multiple corridors, some Blaine doesn’t recognise. The walls are painted a light pink, different to the normal white. 

They turn down another corridor, this wall blue with a weird sparkle. It must be some kind of glitter paint. Maybe they are in one of the more public areas of the building, explaining the decoration. Although doesn’t explain where they are going. 

“Pe-et” Marcus sings. Although something about it is strange; his voice doesn’t match up. “Pet, it’s time to wake up.”

Marcus turns round, and while it is still the guards body, he has the face and voice of Hunter.

“Come on, it’s time to wake up, pet.”

Blaine’s eyes snap open, jumping to sit upright on the bed… in the room he fell asleep in. 

“Hey, good boy. I let you have a bit of a lie in, but it’s best if you return to your normal routine as soon as possible. Can’t let the events of yesterday distract from everything.”

“The events from yesterday…” Blaine mutters, rolling over on the double bed with Hunter behind him. “Oh shit!” It wasn’t a dream. 

 

“You are starting to push my patience with you pet,” Hunter warns. “I understand you might be struggling to process, but you need to forget about it all. You have shown me you are a good sub, don’t let me down now. You need to focus on your duties.”

“What happened… Nick… is he?”

“You need to forget about your friend, for your own good.”

That’s when it truly hits. The fire did happen. Kitty was caught. Nick took his own life. 

He bursts out into tears, screaming and thrashing, as Hunter tries and fails to calm him back down. 

Chapter Text

Time moves on, as much as Blaine doesn't want it to. 


 

Hunter let Blaine stay with him the following day, out of the way in the corner of his office. He spent most of that day crying while everyone around him just ignored him, continuing their life as if such a big part of Blaine's hadn't just been snatched away from him. 

He was warned a handful of times about making too much noise, but thankfully Hunter didn’t feel the need to punish him for it.

That evening, with blood shot eyes, he is sent back to his cell. 

He tries to delay for as long as possible, going even as far as taking the longest detour possible, not caring if a guard catches him out of bounds.

Unfortunately he can't delay it forever, and eventually ends up back at his cell. 

He takes a deal breath, trying to prepare for whatever questions the door is currently holding him from.

 

And time moves on.


 

How can he continue? How can he carry on without Nick? 

Time passes in a blur, Blaine feels oddly detached from everything around him.

He does as he's told. Goes where he's meant to. Eats what he's given. But anything beyond that is lost. 

He broke the news to Tina and Brittany in pieces, letting them fill in the gaps. 

What happened? *Sniffle*

Where's Nick? Gone.

When is he coming back? *Sobs*

Is he coming back? No.

He steps back from lead vocals in the song birds, struggling to participate at all. 

 

And time moves on.


 

He skips the morning lessons one day, hiding in the washroom, unable to even go through the motions. 

He is there for less than thirty minutes before Hunter comes to fetch him, taking him to the whipping post and laying thirty-two lashes across his back - one for every minute he missed apparently.

Blaine didn’t even feel them, unable to register any additional pain beyond the emotional torment he is already suffering through.

“I understand you might be mourning, but that gives you absolutely no excuse to misbehave like that!” Hunter angrily tells him, leaning down and invading Blaine’s personal space. “If I catch you doing anything stupid like this again I will be giving you a much harser punishment. Understood, slut?”

“Yes, Master.”

So he doesn’t skip a lesson again.

 

And time moves on.


 

Being in his cage opposite Nick's - well, Nick's old one, his sign having been taken down - is harder than Blaine could have imagined. 

He tries for a few nights, but he can't sleep knowing the empty cage is opposite.

For the next few nights he tries sleeping on the washroom floor. However that's stopped when one night a guard comes in, waking him up with a taser to his back, telling him he has to sleep in an allocated sleeping area and the washroom is not one.

He moves to one of the empty cages on the other side of the room so he is unable to see Nick's cage.

It doesn't work, but it helps to lesson some of the pain. 

After a few nights of this he comes in to find his label having been moved. 

So the different cage now becomes his new one. 

 

And time moves on. 


 

Hunter checks up on him every so often, on top of his regular one-to-one lessons.

"How are you doing, pet?"

"Fine."

"Pet…" he warns.

"I've been better, Master. But I’m getting better too."

 

And time moves on.


 

Kneeling down at the next auction, a thought strikes him.

What on earth is he going to tell Jeff and Trent?

How is he, a weak sub, meant to tell Jeff, Nick's carefree boyfriend, what happened? How can he break that sort of news to someone, and in such an awful setting for his friends to hear it in?

The thought plagues him the whole day, unable to reach a solution in his mind.

 

And time moves on.


 

"You know, pet," Hunter says during one of their one-to-ones. "If you are struggling you can come to me. You are allowed to rely on your Master for support. I'm giving you permission for some emotional support if you need it. I would rather you come to me as something develops rather than it reaching a stage of you rebelling and acting out again."

And so Blaine finds himself spending more time in Hunter's company, working on clearing his mind. 

He leans on Hunter for his support, and Hunter seems more than happy to oblige.

 

And time moves on.


 

Eventually his song birds sessions stops, their group's hobby time now up. Instead the group is back to a full day of lessons, entering their final few months of training before being sold. 

 

And time moves on.


 

They have first aid lessons, learning how to save their Masters life in different scenarios with different injuries.

He can't help but wonder if he knew this earlier, could he have saved his friend?

 

And time moves on.


 

He catches himself in a mirror one day, and it takes him an embarrassing amount of time to recognise the figure starting back at him is actually a reflection. He is skinnier than ever before, his cheeks shallow and eyes void of life.

His hair is cut so short it has lost its curls, despite not having shaved for months he has no stubble, he can count each and every one of his ribs.

The person looking back at Blaine isn't Blaine, not really. It's 5226.

5226 is a sub. He is useless, he is weak. 5226 didn't have a friend called Nick. Sure, he knew a 8103 who died, but 8103 wasn't a friend, he was just another sub.

But Blaine isn't just a sub. He is a son, a brother, a friend. Blaine isn't weak, he is the strongest someone can possibly be. Blaine had a best friend called Nick, who is still alive in his memory.

That person in the mirror, that isn't Blaine, it can't be. 

Nick wouldn't want to see Blaine like this. Nick would want to see his best friend making the most of every day, showing everyone that nothing can beat him. 

So Blaine turns away from the mirror, holding his head high to take on the whole world if he has too. 

He is going to become stronger. He is going to do Nick proud. He is going to let nothing get in his way.

So he works on becoming stronger. He changes the painful memory of Nick into a strong one, a supportive motivational memory. He works on taking the hand that's dealt to him, and making it as though it was his plan all along and he has all the control of what happens. 

 

And time moves on.