Frank's triple-tapped the last of these assholes when he realizes there's still someone alive in the dark.
"Show yourself," he shouts, and there's a strange, bony thud. "Get out here with your hands on the back of your head and maybe I won't put a bullet in your skull."
There's a weird shuffling noise, and then someone, wriggling painfully-looking on their knees, comes out of the shadows and collapses two feet in front of Frank, shaking faintly.
Frank sees a glint of metal and cocks the gun, and then realizes it's not a weapon, it's a metal collar around the neck of this poor man, who can't be more than twenty-one at the most.
"It's okay," Frank says stupidly. He's never been around slaves before; Maria and him had always been staunch abolitionists. "I don't--I'm not gonna shoot you," he adds, because slaves aren't the enemy, not really.
The poor guy's still lying submissively on the floor, almost hyperventilating. Frank thinks about what to do, and realizes abruptly that he can't leave the guy here or drop him at a hospital or something, because slaves who were property of criminals get sold on the open market, and it's not good for them.
He clicks the safety back on, and then squats down next to the shivering guy, and says low and not quite growling, "Hey, what's your name?"
The guy shivers and says, slowly, "My name is what you want it to be, Master."
Frank snorts and says, "I don't want platitudes, what's your actual name?"
A pause and a very scared voice says, "Matt."
"Okay, Matt," he says, standing up, "Here's what we're going to do. You're gonna get up, give me whatever weapons you have on you, if any, and then we're gonna get out of here before the cops come. I'm not putting you on the open market, it's basically murder."
Matt shifts from one foot to another as he stands up, and hangs his head, and Frank can tell he wants to ask something else.
"Got any questions?"
"Um. Master--" Matt sounds completely terrified out of his mind, fuck, "Can we--there's another slave that Mas--Mister Callione owned. Can we get him too? Or--"
"Yes," Frank says after a second. "Then we have to get out of here."
--
They get the other slave, who turns out to be named Peter and looks about eighteen, with mussed hair and chains that tie him to a bed. Matt helps him stand up, slinging an arm over his shoulder, and between the three of them they get to Frank's jeep and the entire fuck out of there pretty quickly.
Frank gets them to a safehouse--one of the few ones with space for three people, though Matt and Peter will have to share a bed--and gets them inside unseen. It's about when Matt stands around, looking vaguely at nothing, and Peter staggers inside, that Frank realizes two things.
One, Matt's blind. How he's compensating so ridiculously well, Frank has no idea, but he's definitely blind. He tests it out with a flashlight, and, yeah, no pupil response.
Two, Peter's walking funny, and also has a fucking gag in his mouth. It's matte beige-colored plastic, so Frank didn't realize it earlier, but then he turns to Matt and snaps, "Take that gag out of him, for fuck's sake."
Frank feels a twinge of guilt at how fast and obviously scared Matt removes the gag, which turns out to be a long, thick dildo gag. Frank stares at for a moment, admiring the strangely realistic veins, and then turns away before he does something violent and good-feeling but stupid.
--
Peter is more than a little scared, now.
At first he'd been frightened of the gunshots he could hear, and then Matt and a big-looking dangerous free man had come in and unlocked him, and Matt had muttered in his ear that their owners were dead and the free man with guns was their new master. Peter had been okay with that, a little bit, because honestly their previous master had been cruel and unpredictable, but now he's frightened because this Master is glaring murderously at the gag as Matt takes it out.
Peter forces himself to stay as calm as he can as Master turns away and then turns back and says, slowly, "Okay, kid, where are you hurt?"
Peter's so surprised he says, dumbly, "Huh?"
"You're walking strangely. Why? Is your ankle sprained? Leg healed wrong?"
Peter blinks and then turns his back to Master and bends over, and shows him the locked-in toy. It's a punishment, and Peter's definitely not supposed to take it out himself, but Master asked.
Peter catches Matt's face and a small curling smile, and Peter realizes that Matt likes this new Master, and so Peter realizes with a faint shiver and a twitch of his cock that he does, too. This Master is taller and bigger than them both, strong and fierce and very, very sculpted. Peter's legs shake a little as he realizes how he wants to be fucked, now, and have Master seal the deal.
Master curses under his breath and says to himself, "A fucking padlock, Jesus christ," and then says to Matt, "Get me a bobby pin or a lockpick or something from one of the drawers."
Then he pauses and adds, "The drawers are four feet to your left."
Peter blinks in surprise--Masters actually telling Matt where things were? how strange--and makes himself hold the position.
Matt comes back to Master with a bobby pin, and so Master fiddles with the lock--which makes the toy jiggle and move inside Peter, and against that one spot that feels incredible pressed on, and Peter moans.
Master pauses for a second and then keeps going, and Peter's flushed and hard when Master finishes and gets the lock off. Then he steps backwards, and Peter takes it as the cue for him to reach behind and take out the toy, all ten inches of it, and whines with relief and newfound need. He's been on edge for days now with it inside him, wanting badly.
--
Frank swallows at the sight of that monster thing emerging from the kid, and looks away and thinks about tax regulations to suppress the erection. It is not okay to be turned on by slaves who have been tortured.
Frank thinks about it and realizes that if they've been owned by the asshole Frank's been after for months, then they really might not tell Frank if either of them had anything else on or in them that was hurting them. Criminals rarely kept slaves; they were ready-made witnesses. But the kid's so docile and Matt's blind, so that explains that.
Frank swallows, and as he goes to get a pair of gloves, he asks them both, "Is there anything inside either of you two?"
--
Matt bites his lip and moans at Master's words, pulling off his jeans and fingering himself with some spit. He hasn't been fucked in weeks, either, and he's horny and ready, and this Master is so very attractive.
Peter's fingering himself too, legs twitching with want, making tiny little noises that drive Matt crazy.
Master takes a deep breath and pushes his fingers--which sound odd, like he's wearing gloves, and Matt realizes it must be because they're dirty sluts and he doesn't want to touch any come on the inside, and flushes with squirmy humiliation--into Peter, and Matt moans and wriggles his ass on his fingers in desire, which makes Master turn his head to Matt's direction long enough for his probing fingers to slip over Peter's prostate and Peter sobs and comes, shooting onto his face and chest.
Matt drops to his knees and crawls forward as Master takes another deep breath, going to comb through Peter's pubic hair, turning him around, and wraps two fingers in a ring around the base of Peter's cock, feels upwards, plays with the head and then moves off. Matt's surprised but pleased when Master moves and does the same to him, and then when Master's fingers go down further Matt flips over easily, hands and knees like a good boy, and Master's fingers go briefly inside, looking for things, and then he pulls off and away.
Matt's confused when Master tosses the gloves in the trash, throws two pieces of clothing at him and Peter, says gruffly, "Put these on," and then immediately goes to a bathroom and locks the door.
FILL, Pt 1/?
"Show yourself," he shouts, and there's a strange, bony thud. "Get out here with your hands on the back of your head and maybe I won't put a bullet in your skull."
There's a weird shuffling noise, and then someone, wriggling painfully-looking on their knees, comes out of the shadows and collapses two feet in front of Frank, shaking faintly.
Frank sees a glint of metal and cocks the gun, and then realizes it's not a weapon, it's a metal collar around the neck of this poor man, who can't be more than twenty-one at the most.
"It's okay," Frank says stupidly. He's never been around slaves before; Maria and him had always been staunch abolitionists. "I don't--I'm not gonna shoot you," he adds, because slaves aren't the enemy, not really.
The poor guy's still lying submissively on the floor, almost hyperventilating. Frank thinks about what to do, and realizes abruptly that he can't leave the guy here or drop him at a hospital or something, because slaves who were property of criminals get sold on the open market, and it's not good for them.
He clicks the safety back on, and then squats down next to the shivering guy, and says low and not quite growling, "Hey, what's your name?"
The guy shivers and says, slowly, "My name is what you want it to be, Master."
Frank snorts and says, "I don't want platitudes, what's your actual name?"
A pause and a very scared voice says, "Matt."
"Okay, Matt," he says, standing up, "Here's what we're going to do. You're gonna get up, give me whatever weapons you have on you, if any, and then we're gonna get out of here before the cops come. I'm not putting you on the open market, it's basically murder."
Matt shifts from one foot to another as he stands up, and hangs his head, and Frank can tell he wants to ask something else.
"Got any questions?"
"Um. Master--" Matt sounds completely terrified out of his mind, fuck, "Can we--there's another slave that Mas--Mister Callione owned. Can we get him too? Or--"
"Yes," Frank says after a second. "Then we have to get out of here."
--
They get the other slave, who turns out to be named Peter and looks about eighteen, with mussed hair and chains that tie him to a bed. Matt helps him stand up, slinging an arm over his shoulder, and between the three of them they get to Frank's jeep and the entire fuck out of there pretty quickly.
Frank gets them to a safehouse--one of the few ones with space for three people, though Matt and Peter will have to share a bed--and gets them inside unseen. It's about when Matt stands around, looking vaguely at nothing, and Peter staggers inside, that Frank realizes two things.
One, Matt's blind. How he's compensating so ridiculously well, Frank has no idea, but he's definitely blind. He tests it out with a flashlight, and, yeah, no pupil response.
Two, Peter's walking funny, and also has a fucking gag in his mouth. It's matte beige-colored plastic, so Frank didn't realize it earlier, but then he turns to Matt and snaps, "Take that gag out of him, for fuck's sake."
Frank feels a twinge of guilt at how fast and obviously scared Matt removes the gag, which turns out to be a long, thick dildo gag. Frank stares at for a moment, admiring the strangely realistic veins, and then turns away before he does something violent and good-feeling but stupid.
--
Peter is more than a little scared, now.
At first he'd been frightened of the gunshots he could hear, and then Matt and a big-looking dangerous free man had come in and unlocked him, and Matt had muttered in his ear that their owners were dead and the free man with guns was their new master. Peter had been okay with that, a little bit, because honestly their previous master had been cruel and unpredictable, but now he's frightened because this Master is glaring murderously at the gag as Matt takes it out.
Peter forces himself to stay as calm as he can as Master turns away and then turns back and says, slowly, "Okay, kid, where are you hurt?"
Peter's so surprised he says, dumbly, "Huh?"
"You're walking strangely. Why? Is your ankle sprained? Leg healed wrong?"
Peter blinks and then turns his back to Master and bends over, and shows him the locked-in toy. It's a punishment, and Peter's definitely not supposed to take it out himself, but Master asked.
Peter catches Matt's face and a small curling smile, and Peter realizes that Matt likes this new Master, and so Peter realizes with a faint shiver and a twitch of his cock that he does, too. This Master is taller and bigger than them both, strong and fierce and very, very sculpted. Peter's legs shake a little as he realizes how he wants to be fucked, now, and have Master seal the deal.
Master curses under his breath and says to himself, "A fucking padlock, Jesus christ," and then says to Matt, "Get me a bobby pin or a lockpick or something from one of the drawers."
Then he pauses and adds, "The drawers are four feet to your left."
Peter blinks in surprise--Masters actually telling Matt where things were? how strange--and makes himself hold the position.
Matt comes back to Master with a bobby pin, and so Master fiddles with the lock--which makes the toy jiggle and move inside Peter, and against that one spot that feels incredible pressed on, and Peter moans.
Master pauses for a second and then keeps going, and Peter's flushed and hard when Master finishes and gets the lock off. Then he steps backwards, and Peter takes it as the cue for him to reach behind and take out the toy, all ten inches of it, and whines with relief and newfound need. He's been on edge for days now with it inside him, wanting badly.
--
Frank swallows at the sight of that monster thing emerging from the kid, and looks away and thinks about tax regulations to suppress the erection. It is not okay to be turned on by slaves who have been tortured.
Frank thinks about it and realizes that if they've been owned by the asshole Frank's been after for months, then they really might not tell Frank if either of them had anything else on or in them that was hurting them. Criminals rarely kept slaves; they were ready-made witnesses. But the kid's so docile and Matt's blind, so that explains that.
Frank swallows, and as he goes to get a pair of gloves, he asks them both, "Is there anything inside either of you two?"
--
Matt bites his lip and moans at Master's words, pulling off his jeans and fingering himself with some spit. He hasn't been fucked in weeks, either, and he's horny and ready, and this Master is so very attractive.
Peter's fingering himself too, legs twitching with want, making tiny little noises that drive Matt crazy.
Master takes a deep breath and pushes his fingers--which sound odd, like he's wearing gloves, and Matt realizes it must be because they're dirty sluts and he doesn't want to touch any come on the inside, and flushes with squirmy humiliation--into Peter, and Matt moans and wriggles his ass on his fingers in desire, which makes Master turn his head to Matt's direction long enough for his probing fingers to slip over Peter's prostate and Peter sobs and comes, shooting onto his face and chest.
Matt drops to his knees and crawls forward as Master takes another deep breath, going to comb through Peter's pubic hair, turning him around, and wraps two fingers in a ring around the base of Peter's cock, feels upwards, plays with the head and then moves off. Matt's surprised but pleased when Master moves and does the same to him, and then when Master's fingers go down further Matt flips over easily, hands and knees like a good boy, and Master's fingers go briefly inside, looking for things, and then he pulls off and away.
Matt's confused when Master tosses the gloves in the trash, throws two pieces of clothing at him and Peter, says gruffly, "Put these on," and then immediately goes to a bathroom and locks the door.