The All-Judging Butterfly (poisontaster) wrote in whatwekeep, @ 2008-10-21 01:01:00 |
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Title: Every Certainty I Had
Author: daughterofelros
Pairing: Connor Paolo/ Joshua Jackson; Also includes to varying degrees the Fllowing Cast: Summer Glau, Thomas Dekker, Rob Lowe, Penn Badgley, Blake Lively, and Danny from CSI (As though the character were a person, rather than using Carmine.)
Rating: Very Innocent progressing in later chaperts to smuttiness
Disclaimer: It's not real. If you think it is, Good God, you're crazier than I am!! So much thanks to
Connor could feel his mind dying. It didn’t surprise him, really. He just hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly, in just three weeks. Or had it been four now? Without the ability to keep track of the days or to even see outdoors, time slipped into a monotonous stream of waking, training, and sleeping- while he gradually slipped into the mindset of thinking of himself as a slave, as a lower being. Initially, he fought it in his mind, but he soon realized that everything was less painful, less degrading if he just turned off his thoughts, stopped trying to remember his parents, or friends, or his life before Commerce. He tried to look ahead to the future, to being purchased and having a Master who would give him duties, re-define his life once again, and to a point where he could see outside. That was the thing that was killing him, really- the thing that truly said to him he was a slave- the fact that something as normal as seeing the sky had become a privilege, something that had to be earned.
But even his thoughts of the future were shut down abruptly the day he was pulled into a small, Spartan room with a chair in one corner and told to kneel. He did so, trying to keep his form perfect as he had learned. It became more difficult as the minutes ticked by, but he persisted, not wishing to earn a punishment; he had been punished once already this morning for not finishing what had passed for breakfast, and his buttocks still ached as a result- he had no wish to add to the discomfort.
Eventually, the door opened and a professionally dressed woman with a clipboard entered and sat in the chair, noting something on the clipboard as she did so. After a moment she spoke.
“You may look up, Slave.” She commented, and smiled when he did so. “I trust your training is going well?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Was there any other answer?
“Wonderful. I have some very exciting news, Connor.” He blinked, by now thoroughly unaccustomed to the use of his given name. He didn’t betray his surprise with movement though, merely waited for her to continue. “It would seem that a few individual owners have expressed interest in your training. As such, I’m pleased to tell you that Commerce had determined you should continue training and become a body slave. Sessions will begin immediately, of course, and we’ll be teaching you the basics of what you need to know- How to see to the dressing and serving needs of your owner, standards of behavior in public, that sort of thing. And of course, how to attend to their sexual needs as well. Now, you’re a little older than we normally accept for training, but after considering the market carefully, we feel that there is potential for sale. So. Just a few questions before we commence. We need to complete a sexual history, so just answer the questions with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ unless I ask you to elaborate.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good. Let’s start from the top then, shall we?” She consulted her clipboard. When she spoke next, her voice was detached, clinical. “Have you ever engaged this body in sexual intercourse with another person?”
“No Ma’am.”
“Wonderful. That’s an increase in value right there. How about oral sex? Have you ever performed it?” He could feel his face flushing.
“No, Ma’am.” He let his eyes follow the path of crack in the tile.
“Received it?”
“Yes Ma’am.” She made a note on the clipboard.
“And was sexual gratification achieved?”
“Yes Ma’am.” His face was burning now.
“Have you ever touched another person in a manner leading to their sexual gratification?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Elaborate.”
“It was…a girl I dated last year. We broke up. That’s as far as we went. Kissing, and…that. She’s also the one who performed the…oral sex.”
“Are there any other partners we should be aware of? Speak freely.”
“I’ve kissed two other girls. My first girlfriend, when I was thirteen. And another girl at a party a couple years ago. That’s it.” He really hoped he wouldn’t have to tell her about that kiss with Billy, because he was sure that that would incur a punishment. But she seemed to be satisfied, because she stood, capped her pen and opened the door.
“Follow me, Connor. I’ll take you to your first session.”
He followed, hardly even noticing that his knees had gone numb, because that was how his entire body felt.
: : :
Training to be a body slave was even more arduous than he anticipated it would be. He fell into his bed nightly utterly exhausted, his mind swimming with the new information he tried to cram into it every day, from standards of clothing etiquette to the proper way stand unobtrusively in the background of a room until his master should need him. And that didn’t even begin to get into the treatises on sexual arousal and stimulation that they had to read, trying all the while not to let the subject matter arouse him because, as they were constantly reminded, they were slaves, and their bodies were no longer their property.
He supposed that he might find the entire process more bearable if he threw himself into it wholeheartedly, like Billy did. But the fact that the tiny tatters of dignity he still retained were constantly screaming how much he didn’t want to be doing this made that option rather impractical.
Despite his exhaustion, he never slept well, because his dreams were haunted with images of old or unattractive or sadistic men or women buying him, forcing him to serve them in way that made him jerk awake suddenly, nausea roiling in his stomach. None of this was what he had envisioned when he’d willingly signed away his liberty.
Then another day waking up in this windowless purgatory, another day of facing lessons he had no desire to learn, of forcing himself to become something he found more distasteful than he had ever envisioned. This morning’s lesson had to do with the proper way to invite contact with one’s owner without appearing forward, and even an hour afterward, he still felt the ghosting path the instructor’s fingers had taken across him arm, still felt his anger at the unwelcome touch percolating beneath the docile veneer he had been constructing. The anger was welcome in a way- at least it let him know that he, as an individual, was still alive somewhere inside himself. It had only been there since the day he was told he was going to be a body slave, but in those several days, it had become a constant companion, keeping him sane, keeping the fear and apprehension at bay except when he slept.
He started when Billy tapped his shoulder. Apparently mealtime was over, and they were due to attend another lesson. As they entered the lesson room, Connor noticed one of the Corporate Slaves standing next to the doorway. The instructor beckoned for him to stay back and not enter with the others.
“It would appear you have another appointment during this time. Be certain to ask one of the other slaves about what you have missed. You wouldn’t want to be unprepared for the test.
“Yes, Sir.”
He really wouldn’t want that, as there were corporal penalties for every wrong answer. He followed the Corporate Slave through the complex toward the more public areas. They stopped in the hallway outside one of the small meeting rooms where the other Slave indicated that they were to kneel and wait. The door to the room was open, and although he couldn’t see inside, he could hear voices speaking softly and strained to listen without appearing curious.
“…see why I even have to be here for this. You have your mind made up about what actions you want me to take. I think I could have just signed a piece of paper giving you carte blanche and be home doing something that isn’t sitting in a pathetically uncomfortable chair waiting to do you a favor.”
“Your presence here is a testament to your generosity, Joshua.” The second voice sounded dryly amused.
“No, it’s a testament to a combination of my gullibility and the fact that you, my brother, have a phenomenal ability to look wounded and get your way. You should be a travel agent for guilt trips. You’d make a mint.” Despite their apparent bitterness of the words, the man’s tone was mischevious.
“I already have a mint.”
“I know. The International Bank of Daddy. But if you could make a withdrawal at any time you wanted, you wouldn’t be asking me to dip into my pockets.”
“They’re very well-tailored pockets.”
“Thank you.”
“Nice and deep.”
“So’s the well I should be tossing you into right about now.”
“Always a kidder.”
“A fatal flaw, to be sure. But then, every hero must have one.”
“Yeah. You’re right up there with Macbeth and Achilles.”
“So nice to hear you finally acknowledge it.” There was a pause. Then,
“In all seriousness, Josh, thank you for doing this.”
“Don’t thank me yet, Rob. All I’ve done is come here.” The laughter was suddenly gone from his voice. The silence stretched several minutes this time before the man with the voice belonging to ‘Rob’ spoke again impatiently.
“Honestly, where is that woman?”
Like her entrance had been cued, the woman who had told him he was destined to be a body slave appeared at the end of the hallway. Although he was staring intently at the floor, he could tell that she was wearing the same color suit she had been wearing the last time he had seen her. He allowed the thought that her repetitive suit made her seem like a cartoon character to flicker across his mind, but banished it before it could put him in danger of cracking a smile.
She indicated that he should stand, and dismissed the other slave. Then, gesturing for him to follow her, she plastered a wide smile on her face and strode through the open door.
“Mr. Lowe, Mr. Jackson.” She shook hands with each of them in turn.
“Ms. Swinton. A pleasure to finally meet you.” Mr. Lowe greeted her, placing just the tiniest hint of stress on the word ‘finally’.
“I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. I’m afraid I had a presentation I couldn’t step out of.”
“Perfectly understandable.” Mr.Lowe said warmly.
“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” She turned to where Connor still stood, eyes lowered deferentially, hands clasped behind his back. “This is the slave you requested to view. He’s not finished with his training yet of course. We anticipate that taking another few weeks before he’ll be ready for sale. We have a number of prospective buyers, so if your interest is sustained following this visit, we’ll of course include you in the negotiation process.”
The other man, the one with the laughing voice had thus far remained silent. The entire time Ms. Swinton had been speaking, Connor could feel the man’s eyes on him, studying him. He risked a glance in the man’s direction. The man’s face betrayed nothing though, his eyes were unreadable, and the way he had his hand positioned to cradle his chin obscured his mouth, making it impossible to read his expression. Mr. Lowe was speaking again.
“That’s rather an…extended period of time for training, isn’t it? Is there something the matter with him?” Ms. Swinton seemed genuinely surprised.
“On the contrary, Mr. Lowe. This is a greatly expedited schedule. We generally anticipate between three and four months to complete the basic course of training for a Body Slave.” Now it was Mr. Lowe’s turn to look surprised. He hid it well, but his eyebrows twitched upward in surprise before he was able to bring his features back under control.
“I see. Well,”
“I’m afraid I don’t.” The other man interrupted then, causing Ms. Swinton’s head to whirl around as though she had forgotten him.
“Mr. Jackson?”
“I wish to purchase this slave, right now, today and have his training completed to my specifications” His face bore a pleasant smile, but his voice was cold. “But you seem to be indicating that your agency wishes to continue housing, feeding, and expending resources on this slave and then beginning a long and arduous negotiation process with other individuals who are not as interested as I am.”
“I can assure you that the other parties are, much like yourself, very committed to the possibility of ownership…”
“Really?” his tone was now derisive. “Then why aren’t they here,” He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and withdrew two perfectly bound stacks of cash, tossing them on the coffee table. “And ready to pay?” Ms. Swinton’s eyes were wide.
“Mr. Jackson, this is…highly unorthodox. I really must urge you to be patient and wait for the negotiation process…”
He held her gaze and without a word reached again, withdrew a third bundle of cash, and tossed it on the table, his expression challenging her to continue to refuse him. She eyed the cash on the table for a few seconds, then stood, smoothing her skirt awkwardly.
“Let me just get your paperwork.” He grinned widely at her as she hurried from the room. As soon as she was gone though, the smile faded. He stared broodingly at the pile of cash on the table. The other man, Mr. Lowe cleared his throat.
“Those, uh, pockets are…a little deeper than I imagined.”
“We’re not discussing it.” Mr. Jackson muttered darkly, eyes not straying from the pile of cash.
“No, no. No intention of that.” Lowe said mildly before silence descended upon them like a stifling cloak.