Break the Chains Page 9

  "Avery," Conrad said softly.

  "Yeah?" Avery's head snapped up like a dog responding to a verbal command. Conrad sighed. Some habits were harder to break than others.

  But maybe he was better off not breaking them. If Avery was going to spend his days with a Master after all—even a gentle one—the etiquette of slave life was going to be important.

  A knife twisted in his gut at the thought of sending Avery to a place where he'd be forced to kneel and serve again. He longed to cut the collar, to free his captive bird—but captives never lived long in the wild, did they? He chided himself for the thought. Of course he'd free Avery if he had half the chance. The problem was, he never would.

  Garth saw himself out. The front door closed with a quiet click, leaving them in silence.

  "You're not going to ask what we talked about in there?" Conrad asked.

  "Garth wanted to speak with you in private. Meaning it's none of my business."

  "He has another job for us," Conrad explained.

  "How? The man's broke."

  "I'm gonna do this one for free, Ave. I owe him a lot. He's looked out for me since Abby died, even though it's put him in a financial hole."

  "So what's the job?"

  "He thinks that one of his exes ended up signing a Circle contract." Conrad crafted a lie, guilt creeping through his veins as he wove a piece of fiction to appease Avery. "Rumor has it that this Master is supposed to be kind, but Garth's not so sure. He wants us to carry out a welfare check, see if this guy is doing all right."

  "It won't be easy. Most Masters are secretive about their slaves. The only time they open up is at parties, when they invite Circle members and their pets. You'll have to use your membership to get in…and I'll have to be the bait." Avery lowered his head.

  "Hopefully this guy is legit," Conrad said. "Garth said that this is supposed to be a sort of…retirement place for slaves. He wants confirmation that his friend is still alive more than anything."

  "We're going to stake the place out, then?" Avery asked.

  "I was hoping to take a more direct approach, if you don't mind. If this guy really does take on slaves with no home, I was thinking we pretend that I'm going to send you there. Take the tour, and I'll play the concerned Master." Conrad paced the room, fearing he was being too obvious, that one leap of logic would take Avery to the truth, if it hadn't already.

  "It won't matter," Avery said. "Like I said, Masters hide their true colors. You'll only see his squeaky-clean front."

  "I get that. Once we're in his range, though, I can hint that I'd like to…see you off. Get us an invite to a party, if he throws any. Then we'll see how he acts around other Masters."

  Avery bowed his head. "I can't say I'm comfortable with this, Conrad. You've never been to a Circle party. You don't realize what you're in for."

  "I won't let anybody touch you, Avery. You're mine."

  Avery shook his head. "The whole point of a Circle party is to share."

  "So I'll play ignorant. The records will show I'm a new Master. So what if I hurt their feelings? You don't think I'm there to make friends with these scumbags, do you?"

  Avery managed a wan smile. "I suppose it might work. I was kind of hoping to stay away from that world, but I'll bear it, for you, and for Garth."

  Conrad nodded, trying to suppress the churning sensation in his gut. He hated that they were already assuming the worst, but Avery was probably right. Some things in the world of the Circle seemed too good to be true, and a kind Master who took on the unwanted was one of those things.

  Still, he had to find out. He couldn't rest until he'd exhausted all avenues to save Avery. The thought of putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger drove him forward, even if it meant diving headfirst into the world Avery had wanted never to see again.

  It was a necessary evil. Still, the bile rose in his throat as he picked up the phone and dialed the number on the weathered scrap of paper.

  "Hello?" A male voice answered the phone.

  "Yes. My name is Conrad Fisher. I have a slave that I'm no longer able to financially support. I heard through a Circle contact that you re-home slaves with no resale value."

  "I do, if the case is compelling. May I ask why your slave has no financial value?"

  "He's been to the organ house. He's HIV-positive and needs medication to manage his condition. Even the mines don't want him." Conrad suppressed the shiver that ran up his spine as his mind trailed back to the auction. Avery's blue eyes had caught his and pleaded as his cock had rubbed against the bars. In that place of filth and horror, he'd stood out as a thing of beauty.

  That beauty now sat on the couch, staring into the middle distance, no doubt wondering if Conrad had some ulterior motives.

  "I see. I'd be happy to send a contract over to you and pick him up."

  "No. I want a tour. I want to see where he'll be living. I've grown rather attached, I suppose."

  "Fair enough. I'd like to see what I'll be getting as well. How about you bring your slave over this afternoon? I'll give you the address…"

  Avery

  Trust.

  Avery had learned quickly in the slave trade that trust was a rare gem, more valuable than diamonds or platinum. Masters lied more often than they ate hot dinners—to their slaves, to other Masters…probably to themselves.

  He hadn't needed to hear the conversation to know Conrad wasn't working for Garth this time. He might have thought he was being sly, but it was clear he was searching for a way out of their horrible predicament.

  With any other Master, he would have borne it in stride. With Conrad, Avery was both hurt and touched. Hurt that Conrad was thinking of giving him back to the life he wanted out of but touched that he wanted a solution that didn't involve killing him.

  Avery knew how it would all turn out, but he went along with Conrad's plan, hoping that when it all came crashing down, the fragile trust he'd placed in the man wouldn't be broken. Conrad was too good a person to truly understand what being a slave meant, despite his rough exterior and grimy past. Even killing a man for money paled in the face of what he might see. Either way, if Avery was to take a measure of the man he'd fallen for, perhaps this was the best way to do it.

  "What's on your mind, Ave?" Conrad asked, breaking through Avery's reverie as they drove through the gates of a country mansion. Gravel cracked beneath the tires of Conrad's old beater, and Avery almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Was Conrad truly so oblivious as to how out of place he was in the world of the Circle?

  "You're not planning to leave me here, are you?" Avery asked.

  "It's just a job. That's all." The car pulled up to the house and Conrad shut off the engine. A portly, red-faced man came out to greet them, his expression so open that even Avery was taken in for a second. He got out of the car and opened Conrad's door, kneeling at his feet and offering up his leash to his Master. It had been so long since he'd been a proper slave that it seemed strange and unnerving to fall back into the pattern. Conrad took his leash and Avery followed, keeping his eyes cast downwards according to protocol. Every now and then he dared himself to look. He saw a one-armed slave playing ball in the yard with a child. A slave with scars across his face cleaning a window. A blind slave woman being guided by another as they prepared vegetables in a kitchen the size of Conrad's entire ground floor.

  "Quite a setup you have here," Conrad said. "What's the purpose of all these slaves? You appear to live alone. Is this a humanitarian project?"

  The man laughed. "You're an odd Master. I looked through your file and I must say, you pique my curiosity a great deal, Mr. Fisher. You're not in the…financial range of most Masters. I'd love to hear the story of how you came to acquire this slave."

  "My daughter told me about the Circle. She was disgusted, but I found myself…intrigued. I figured I'd pay a month's dues and attend an auction, see what it was all about. I had no idea I'd be leaving as a Master."

  "Ah, a purchase on a whim! I thin
k we've all been in that situation."

  Avery kept his head down, tracing the patterns in the wood grain floor. He wondered if Conrad knew he was being subtly mocked. He had to, didn't he?

  "I never knew a life could be bought for two hundred dollars. I didn't really think about the dues at the time," Conrad said.

  "You intended to fuck him and sell him again, then discovered he was damaged goods?"

  "Pretty much."

  Avery cringed inwardly at Conrad's blithe response, then reminded himself that this was not his Conrad. This was Conrad the private detective, playing a part to win this man's confidence. Or at least amusement.

  "I must say I'm quite confused by you, Mr. Fisher. You say you bought him for a quick fuck, yet you're bringing him here, saying you've grown quite attached. May I ask you what you think we do here?"

  "You give slaves with no financial value a place to live out their last days. They'd die if they were released. They're so used to slavery that they wouldn't know how to live outside, and they've been declared legally dead by their families and friends."

  "Do you feel guilty, Mr. Fisher?"

  "Guilty? What do you mean?" Conrad asked.

  "You're not…used to the Circle. Slaves are still a new concept to you. You brought him here because selling him on disgusts you, doesn't it?"

  "He has no resale value. The mines and organ houses won't purchase an HIV-positive slave. Even the snuff chasers balk at the tiny risk they'd have to take to fuck him, then choke him. They sure won't pay for his meds to reduce that risk."

  Avery blinked. Hearing Conrad talk so callously about his fate made the backs of his eyes sting with tears and his stomach churn in horror, but to weep in front of his Master would derail the entire operation. If this Master were to know that Conrad treated his slave like an equal, he'd be laughed out of the mansion without ever learning anything.

  "I guess the question I'm asking is—why do you care? If you get fifty bucks for him, it's fifty bucks." The man sat down in a leather armchair. A slave brought drinks. "Sit, sit, Mr. Fisher. You're making me nervous with your hovering."

  Conrad shuffled over to a seat with a glass of whiskey. Avery knelt by his feet, waiting for a command.

  "I care because he's a very good fuck. It would be a waste if he was to die. I have him on meds, and his blood work shows his viral load is falling."

  "Ah, you like life on the edge, Mr. Fisher? That does explain your sequence of arrests for public nudity and masturbation."

  "I'm not sure why you care," Conrad said. "You take in slaves. We're surrounded by them right now. I can't imagine you bought their contracts out of the goodness of your heart. You took them in because the Circle wanted you to, right? It looks bad when slaves don't sell at auction."

  "So you do understand. I was beginning to think you were hopelessly naive, an idealist groping about in a world that was clearly not for you. It would be strange for a crooked ex-cop to think that way, but it happens." The Master stretched back in his chair. "Every now and then you get someone who pays Circle dues because they think they're going to come in and change the system. Sometimes it's for political reasons, other times it's because they find being a Master repulsive. Often those who want to hire for private armies find the sexual side distasteful, while those who want a sexual servant think sending slaves to the mines is a step too far."

  "What do you think?" Conrad asked.

  "I think I haven't quite figured you out, yet. Let's continue the tour." The Master stood and led them into a giant conservatory, where slaves tended plants lovingly.

  "How long are you going to keep this ruse up? Conrad asked. "If it's for my benefit, you can stop."

  The Master raised an eyebrow. "What ruse might that be?"

  "That this place is a loving retirement community for slaves."

  "But it is, Mr. Fisher. The slaves here are happy and fulfilled."

  "I may not have been in this club long, but I haven't met an owner of multiple slaves who hasn't thrown a Circle party at some point. You're honestly saying you don't?"

  The Master's thin lips curled upwards into a smirk. "Are you fishing for an invite?"

  Avery tried not to flinch. For a private detective, Conrad was hopeless at subterfuge. No wonder he struggled to pay the bills. This man had him strung along, playing his game. Was Conrad even aware that he was dancing to his tune?

  "Maybe."

  "I find you amusing, I must confess. I suspect your reasoning for coming here was all about getting an invite, wasn't it? I suppose Circle society doesn't exactly extend many invites to a Master like you. You're practically starving for attention. I imagine you're desperate to swap that slave around and get yourself some new action." He shook his head in mirth. "Fine, I'll bite. Just don't come complaining to me if you've bitten off more than you can chew. The big event is on Saturday evening, Mr. Fisher. Bring your slave. Be sure to warn the other Masters of his status. That might excite some of them, though. Circle members have their kinks, after all."

  Conrad grunted. "What about Avery? Will you take him?"

  "Of course. If you're still willing after Saturday night, that is." He gestured to a nearby slave. "Show our guests out." Avery followed along, keeping quiet until the mansion was long behind them and they were on the open road.

  "Satisfied, now?" Avery asked. "He's dirty."

  "I knew that. I didn't need the tour to understand this guy's a prick. We went to find out what became of Garth's ex," Conrad snapped.

  "You really plan on going to that party? Why? I know Garth didn't give you a job. I know why we were there, Conrad. Even now, you want to believe that you could give me over to him guilt-free."

  The car swerved as Conrad almost drove into oncoming traffic. "I was that obvious, huh?"

  "It's nice to know that you don't want to shoot me, but I don't want you to lie to yourself. That's why we're going to the party Saturday. You need to stop living in denial and see what slavery really looks like."

  "There's no point. You're right. He's dirty. I can't send you there." Conrad pulled over at the side of the country road and turned off the engine. "I'm sorry. I was just trying to find another way."

  "I know." Avery smiled despite himself. "It's overwhelming to think how much you care. You couldn't even pull off a half-convincing act in there. No wonder your private detective business is failing. You only got what you wanted because he found you amusing. You're lucky he doesn't see you as a threat."

  "We never have to see him again. I'm relieved, actually. I didn't want to take you into that pit of vipers."

  Avery shook his head. "We're going."

  "I just said that—"

  "It doesn't matter if there's no ex to find, or if you've changed your mind about sending me there. You're naive when it comes to the Circle. I thought you understood, but you don't get it at all. What I'm running from. Why death is preferable to going back."

  "You're right: I don't understand. I flinched when you told me what happened, but the truth is, I can't imagine it. But that doesn't mean we should walk into the lion's den so that I can get a lesson."

  "You're scared," Avery remarked.

  "Of course I'm scared. I don't want to see the things you've described!"

  Avery balled his hands into fists. "In the end, when October tenth rolls around, I need to be able to trust you. If you slip—if you let me get taken because you can't bring yourself to kill me, I'll be a prisoner for the rest of my life, which will probably come to a brutal end—if I'm not just left to die of AIDS by some uncaring Master. I want to go out with some dignity. That's why I need you to do this."

  "Avery…"

  "No buts. I need you to do this, Conrad. Will you do it for me?"

  "Okay," Conrad whispered. "I'll do it."

  Conrad

  Conrad gave his car keys to the valet, shame flooding him as he watched the slave drive his clunker away. Shiny sports cars, limousines and luxury sedans filled the gravel driveway. Men and women dress
ed to the nines climbed out of back seats, with slave drivers, companions and escorts falling over themselves to serve their Master's every need. If not for all the collars, the scene might have been a Hollywood premiere instead of a Circle party.

  "Those are the best clothes you have?" Avery's dismissal had stung a little. Conrad had never been one for glitz and glamour, but he thought his funeral suit was at least passingly respectable. Seeing the bowties and black ties around him, he felt like the joke of the party.

  Not that he was there to fit in. Crumpled, moth-eaten suit or not, he hadn't come to make friends. These were the last people he wanted to impress. He'd only come upon Avery's insistence. Avery seemed apprehensive now that he was on his leash, though it may have been the necessary silence of a slave that made him seem that way.

  "Are you okay?" Conrad whispered.

  "Let's just get this over with." Avery looked up into Conrad's eyes, and he saw Avery's fears laid bare. He realized how much Avery was trusting him by allowing him to lead him here. How could Avery truly know that Conrad wouldn't pass him around with dessert, if the situation called for it? He held onto Avery's leash tighter; whatever happened at the party, he needed to keep a hold of himself.

  Too many people took interest as Conrad showed his invitation to the bouncers. They scanned him over, barely paying attention to Avery. With a dismissive sound, they were waved inside and passed through an arched front door to a whole other world.

  Bare flesh was everywhere. Conrad had expected an air of respectability, with sexual activities being kept to private rooms, but everywhere he looked, his eyes caught a different sexual act. He wanted to avert his gaze, but Avery had coached him that a Master must do anything except look down. To look at the floor was an act of submission, and if he was not strong, Avery was likely to suffer for it. The other Masters were likely to try and coax him to share Avery, by force if necessary.

  He wasn't going to let that happen.