***

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the QAF characters.  All QAF aspects belong to Showtime and Cowlip.  However all original characters and the plot itself belongs to me!  Thanks!

***

Chapter Five: Getting Acquainted

If he didn’t know any better, Brian would think the boy hadn’t eaten in weeks…  The man watched in amazement as Justin inhaled the tuna sandwich Brian had hastily thrown together for him.  “Did you even chew?” he asked, slightly disgusted as the boy sat at his kitchen island.

Justin’s face fell as he finished swallowing the last of his food.  Taking a chug of milk to wash it down, he struggled to keep the embarrassment off his face.  “Oh, um… I’m sorry, Master.  I just haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Glancing at the green numbers illuminating from the stove, Brian realized it was almost 5:30 in the afternoon.  “Not since this morning?  The auction didn’t start until one.  Why didn’t you eat lunch?”

The boy’s confusion showed on his face, “Why would they feed me lunch?”

“Because the FDA suggests three well-balanced meals a day?”

“But… you’re supposed to…” the slave’s voice drifted off.

Christ, this ought to be good.  “What, Justin?” Brian muttered, “What am I supposed to do?”

“My trainer said… that you’d reward me with food.”  The blonde bit his lip nervously, “My trainer said I didn’t get lunch today because I hadn’t earned it yet.”

“And how would you know when you’d earned it?”

“When you fed me.”

Brian scrubbed a hand down his hand roughly, grabbing a cigarette out of the pack laying on wet bar and lighting it quickly.  “For Christ’s sake, so you’ve been waiting for food this whole time?”  Without a second thought, the man spun, rummaging through his kitchen for more food to stuff down the kid’s throat.  “Why didn’t you just ask?”

“Because…” Justin started, “Because… I’m not supposed to.”

A box of cereal was tossed unceremoniously onto the counter as the cigarette dangled from his lips.  “Well, you are now.  Your trainer was full of shit.  I’m not rewarding you with food, Justin.  That’s withholding a basic necessity.  It’s abuse.”  Something Brian was very familiar with.  “So from now on, you eat when you’re hungry.  You said you’re a good cook.  Cook if you want.”

The blonde was completely silent, staring blankly at the bowl of sugary squares now in front of him.  He hardly noticed when his master poured milk into the mix.

“Did you hear me, Justin?  No more waiting for food.  Just eat when you’re hungry.  If you can’t find something to eat, ask me and we’ll get you something.  Do you understand?  No more of this.”  Brian only partially understood why he was so upset by Justin’s explanation.  The kid obviously wasn’t starved, his stomach was lean but toned and his ass definitely had cushion.  While Brian had grown up in an abusive home, he’d always had his basic needs met… at least physically, even if he had to find them himself.  He was never prevented from attaining them.

Justin was still quiet, stirring his cereal.  “Master?”

“Yep.”

“What… what’s the name of this cereal?  Is it Captain Crunch?”

“Um,” Brian glanced at the box on the counter, “Yeah…  I keep it around for my son.  I actually hate the sugary shit, but the kid loves it, so…  If you don’t like it, don’t eat it.  We can make a list of stuff you like and go to the store later.  Don’t worry about it.”

But Justin was already on his third bite of the squares, trying to hold in his emotions.

“Are you seriously crying into a bowl of cereal?”

Justin took a deep breath and held it, regaining his composure.

“What is it?” the brunet asked.  Seeing the boy wasn’t planning to answer, Brian crooked his fingers around the rim of the cereal bowl, pulling it across the island away from Justin.

Justin’s face snapped up to meet his master’s, hurt and betrayal in his eyes as his food was removed from the vicinity.

It took the older man a minute to understand the expression on the kid’s face, but once his brain caught up, he wanted to kick himself.  And after he’d just gotten done explaining he’d never use food against him…  “Fuck,” he breathed, gently pushing the bowl back in front of the blonde, “I’m not taking it, Justin.  I’ll never take your food away.  I just wanted to get your attention.”  Although there was no response, after a moment Justin resumed eating and at least he didn’t seem ready to cry anymore, so Brian continued, “What’s the problem?  What’s wrong with the cereal?”

“Nothing.  I like it.”

“You like it?  And that made you emotional.”

There was a long pause before Brian could barely make out a exhaled, “Yes.”

“And…?”

It was then that Justin’s hands started to shake, his spoon tapping obnoxiously on the sides of the glass bowl.  He dropped the spoon suddenly, causing a small splash and a clatter as he thought about his master’s question.

“Justin?”  The boy’s lack of response irritated him.  It was cereal, for Christ’s sake.  “Justin!”

“My mom used to buy it for me,” Justin whispered, trying to keep his soft voice steady.

Oh.  “Oh.”  Trying to think of a way to save the situation, Brian mumbled, “Were you and your mom close?” before realizing that probably also wasn’t a good thing to say.

“I… I thought so,” the blonde responded, biting down hard on his lip.

“Mm,” Brian sounded, knowing he’d dug himself into a hole as he snubbed out his smoke in the nearby ashtray.  “Well… um… if you like Captain Crunch, we’ll have to get some more.”

“Okay.”

Fuck.  “Um…” they needed a change of topic, “We’ll have to get you some new clothes,” he tried, taking in Justin’s appearance wearing a pair of Brian’s grey sweatpants and a red t-shirt.  The kid looked adorable with the shirt falling off his shoulders and the legs rolled up about five times, but there was no doubt he’d need his own clothes to go out in public.  “I’ll call my… friend, for lack of a better term… Emmett to go shopping for us.  He lives for that shit and he’d love to be your personal shopper.  Where do you usually buy your clothes?”

At this Justin let out a long breath.  Apparently not knowing how to own a slave was equally as frustrating as having a master who didn’t know how to own a slave.  “I don’t shop.”

“Oh… yeah, of course not, but where did your… trainer usually get your clothes?”  Brian didn’t like this.  He wasn’t used to being the ignorant party in a situation.  All of a sudden, having Deb stop by didn’t seem like a bad idea.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.  Fine.  You’ll get what you get then.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” the boy muttered.

And Brian had had enough.  In two long steps, he was in front of the blonde, spinning his chair to face him.  “What the fuck is your problem, kid?  I’m trying to help you!”

“Help me?” Justin sneered, “You bought me at a slave auction and gave me a painful first blowjob.  Yes, thanks so much.”

The older man’s jaw dropped, unsure how to answer.  Normally, not one to question his impulses, he stopped this time, breathing heavily.  His slave was testing him.  If this was normal conversation with Mikey or Ted, Brian would rip them a new one with insulting, witty remarks until the other man backed down, but… with Justin…

“Goddamn it!” he shouted, shoving away from the blonde, unsure of how to proceed.  There was NO part of him that wanted to scold this kid for simply sticking up for himself, but that’s what Michael told him to do.  That’s what was expected of him.  “Why are you being such a brat, Justin?”

Before Brian could even register what was happening, Justin had leapt from his seat and pushed back on his chest, “I am NOT a BRAT!”

“You sure know how to ACT like one!” he spat in return and then watched as something snapped inside his slave, turning Justin’s eyes ice blue.  There was no time to react as a ball of blonde rage launched itself at his throat.

“YOU MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!”

Having height, strength, and weight on his side, the young slave wasn’t hard to fight off, but his shock at the kid’s aggression delayed Brian’s response.  After receiving a right hook to his jaw, he was able to secure the boy’s arms behind his back, pushing the struggling body through the kitchen and up against the nearby pillar.

“Fuck, Justin!  Of all the things to get upset about today, you choose the word ‘brat’?” Brian shook his head and caught his breath, “And to think I was using ‘brat’ in the place of ‘little shit.’”

Fear and anger coursed through Justin’s body as he continued to struggle.  “Let me go!  Let me go, Goddamn it!” came the demand as his body bucked against Brian’s hold.  He knew he’d fucked up, but it had been a reaction…  A reaction that he was deeply regretting now, feeling the cold metal of the pillar beneath his turned cheek and the solid mass of Brian’s body against his ass and back.

Brian pressed Justin’s body more firmly against the thick metal pole, “Listen to me, you little shit…  This ends NOW.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah, that’s probably the least of what would happen to you if you’d been with anyone else.”  He didn’t want to scare the boy, but the severity of the situation caused him to push forward with his point.  “Do you know what sort of reaction you’d get for that little hissy fit outside of this loft?” he asked, placing his mouth dangerously close to the boy’s ear, “Restraints… Belts… Floggings…” and then remembered something from earlier in the day, something the boy’s trainer had mentioned, “Spankings…”

At that, Justin struggled harder, letting out quiet, distressed sounds.

Okay, Brian reasoned, it was humiliation the boy feared more than pain.  Surely, he wouldn’t appreciate either approach, but knowing spankings didn’t hurt nearly as much as a belt to the back, Justin’s preferences were clear.

“You know what the Sap would do if he was here?” the taller man hissed, pulling on Justin’s wrists still clasped in his hands.  “He’d probably make you hug this pillar,” he continued, finding little resistance he forced Justin’s arms up to shoulder height, wrapping them around the wide bar of metal, “and handcuff them from the other side so you couldn’t escape,” Brian tightened his grip on the boy’s wrists, “Then I’m guessing he’d pull your pants down… and paddle your ass until it blistered.”  He took that moment to press his full body weight against the boy, hearing the breath leave the blonde’s lips in a rush, “And then… I’m positive he’d fuck your ass raw and you’d pass out, hopefully before his friends joined in the fun.”

Waiting 30 seconds for the words to sink in, Brian gently released Justin all at once, careful to help the boy regain his footing.  But it didn’t seem to matter because Justin slowly turned and slid to the floor.

“Remember that next time you want to act out,” Brian warned, taking careful steps away.

Pushing and pulling air in and out of his lungs was about all the boy could handle at the moment, trying desperately to stop trembling.  He’d been sure that was it, positive he’d pushed his master over the edge and everything would change and Brian’s true colors would be exposed.  But Brian hadn’t done anything to him, not really, not anything damaging.  The description of the Sap’s punishment had painted a terrible picture in Justin’s brain and he had been terrified that Brian would act it out… but he hadn’t.  He’d released him… gently even.

Justin opened his eyes and ran a shaky hand through his pale locks, “You’re not going to punish me?”

The older man smirked, standing tall a few feet from the slave.  “You don’t feel punished?”

And the boy took a minute to think about this.  Actually, he did feel punished in a way.  Obviously not physically or even mentally, but emotionally… he was embarrassed, ashamed.  “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry’s bullshit.”

“But I am.”

“That’s ridiculous, Justin,” Brian spoke, moving back to the kitchen for a bottle of water which he held to his cheek for a moment.  Despite Justin’s small stature, he sure could hit.  “Being sorry for the way you feel is bullshit.  Don’t be sorry.  Just be smarter.”

Locking the advice away in his memory, Justin continued sitting on the floor, head falling back to the pillar behind him.  “I am sorry for attacking you.”

“I’d hardly call it an attack, kid.”

“It doesn’t matter.  I am.  It’s just… I don’t like being calling a… a brat.”

Leaning over the island to stare of the top of the shaggy blonde head, Brian wondered if the conversation should continue.  “And why’s that?”

“My father used to call me a brat,” he explained, “and then my trainer picked up the term.”

“So you and your mother were close, but not you and your father?”

“No, actually…” Justin smiled, though not a trace of happiness graced his face, “Actually, I was always under the assumption that my father and I were close… but I was… very wrong.”

Brian paused, contemplating if he should continue, but what the hell?  Justin had started the topic.  “What happened?  Why were you sold?”

The blonde grimaced, shutting his eyes tightly.  The memories were painful, especially since he’d rarely allowed himself to visit them in the last three years.

Curiosity and impatience got the best of the brunet, “Justin?”

“My father--”

And then the phone rang.  “Fuck, just a minute,” Brian sighed, picking up the receiver.  “Yeah?”

“I’m bringing over dinner.”

“What?”

“I’m bringing over tuna casserole – your favorite – for you and the boy.”

“Deb, I’ve never liked--”

“Don’t argue with me.  You fucking loved it.”

Brian rolled his eyes.

“I’ll be over in an hour and you’d BETTER be there, Brian.  You and the boy.”

“Justin.”

“What?”

“His name…” the man stated, “is Justin.”

“I see.”  There was only a hint of disapproval in her tone.  “Justin, then.  You’d both better be there.”

“Got it, Ma.”

“Smart-ass.  You always think you’re so smart, Brian.”

“Bye.”  And he hung up.

“Was that your mom?”

Brian’s head turned towards the quiet question, “No… that was Michael’s mom… the friend that went to the auction with me.”

“But you called her ‘Ma,’ didn’t you?” the blonde asked, his head cocked to the side like a puppy and Brian resisted the urge to pet him.

“Uh… yeah, she’s more of a mom to me than my real mom, so…” he scratched his head, “But, no, she’s not my mother.  My real mother is a raging beast on a religious rampage.”

“I bet she’s better than mine.”

Brian laughed, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Oh really?” Justin challenged, “Did your mom sell you into the slave trade?”

Oh.  “Oh.”  Fuck.  “Fuck, um…”

The boy sighed, “Is there anything more to eat, Master?”

“Kind of a bottomless pit, aren’t you?” Brian asked, staring unbelieving at the empty bowl he carried to the sink.

“My mom called me a good eater when I was growing up, which I suppose is a polite way of saying I eat too much.  Maybe I did eat too much.”  The blonde smiled sadly and shook his head, “Anyway… did you mean it when you said I could have more to eat?”

“Justin…” Brian bit at his lips but lost his nerve, “Yeah, of course, just dig through the kitchen and take what you want.  Deb is going to be here in a bit with dinner.  She said an hour, so that’s more like 30 minutes in Deb time.”

“Deb?”

“Michael’s mom.  Yeah.  I hope you like tuna casserole.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had it.”

“Well, it’s my favorite… or so I’m told.”

Justin chuckled softly, cracking a small grin.

The older man raised an eyebrow, “Well, well, well… you can smile.”

The boy bit his lip at Brian’s comment.

“Anyway, snack on whatever you want or wait till Deb gets here.  I can guarantee there will be plenty of food.”  Brian stretched his arms over his head as he regarded the the young slave, “Are you ever going to get off the floor or…?”

With a small noise of embarrassment, Justin climbed to his feet.  “I just…”

“I need to take a shower,” Brian announced, “Listen, can I leave the alarm off or are you going to try to run?”

“Run?” Justin questioned, “Where would I run?”

“I figured you knew that.  You strike me as a smart kid.”

Justin sighed his honest reply, “I won’t run, Master.  I wouldn’t get far.”  Sadly, he glanced down at his ‘outfit’ and thought about the fact that he had no identification, no money, and a microchip at the base of his neck that told his entire life story in the slave trade.

“Alright,” the older man stated, feeling uncomfortable.  “I’m just going to take a quick shower.  You eat… or watch TV or… whatever you want.  Mi casa es su casa… literally in this case.”

“Huh?”

Brian squeezed the neck of his neck rhythmically, “Never mind.  I’ll be back,” and he turned toward the bedroom as Justin walked slowly to the cupboards in search of more food.

***

The colorfully dressed redhead smacked her gum noisily as the elevator came to stop at the top floor.  Checking her watch, she realized she was about 30 minutes earlier than she’d said she’d be, but damn it, even since Michael called her explaining that her adoptive son purchased a slave today, it’s all she could think about.  She snorted as she thought of Brian’s all-knowing attitude and gripped the large Tupperware of casserole tightly in her arms.  Part of her was simply anxious to meet the slave that would so inspire the great Brian Fucking Kinney to partake in such awful activities.

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Deb knocked once, shouted a “Hello!” and slid the door open forcefully… only to come face-to-face with a surprised, frightened, young blonde.  “Holy shit, you’re him?!” she exclaimed, “You’re a Goddamn twink!”  Her eyes roamed Justin for a moment, taking him his long blonde hair and slim stature now covered by Brian’s large clothing.  “Since when do you go for a Goddamn twink?” she asked, expecting an answer from Brian himself.

But none came and so the two just stood awkwardly for a moment, red staring at blonde and vise versa.

“Well…” she began, “are you hungry?  You look half starved.”

The boy didn’t respond, glancing back towards Brian’s bathroom nervously.  The shower water had stopped a couple minutes earlier and Justin just prayed Brian would emerge soon.

“Can you speak?” Deb asked, trying to keep her patience as she pulled three plates down from Brian’s cabinets.  “Or are you mute?  Maybe that’s what the fabulous Mr. Kinney saw in you.”

Again, the blonde remained silent, more than a little intimidated by the animated woman.

“Justin, right?” she continued, “Well, you’re adorable, I’ll give him that and you’ve got a bubble butt to die for, but you’re definitely not his normal type.  Michael didn’t mention anything about your looks… or your… lack of communication skills.”  She dished a large helping of tuna casserole onto a plate and slid it across the counter, “Eat.  You’re too skinny.”

“Deb…” came Brian’s drawl as he sauntered down the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, “You’re early…”

“Damn right, I’m early,” the woman snapped, not allowing Brian’s almost nudity to affect her.  “I should have been here when you brought him home.  In fact, I should have been at the auction today to stop you from bringing the kid home!  What the fuck were you THINKING, BRIAN?  A SLAVE?  Do you really not get enough sex willingly that you have to force yourself on a young, blonde TWINK?”

“I am not forcing myself on anyone!” Brian defended, as Justin tried his best to blend into the background.  “Mikey didn’t tell you much about our… situation… did he?”

“You bought a slave,” she stated, “That’s all I needed to know.  How could you, Brian?  After all the things we’ve told you over the years.  I’ve never been so disappointed in you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Deb,” Brian chucked, rolling his eyes.  “Let me tell you what happened, okay?  Then crucify me if you want.”

She shook her head, “Fine.  Try to defend yourself, but first thing’s first.”  Turning to the boy, she motioned him forward, “Come here, kiddo.”

Panicking, Justin looked to his master and shook his head, still not having said a word.

“What’s wrong?  Christ, he’s shy for a slave.”

“You have no idea,” Brian smiled, just waiting for the ball to drop.  He nodded towards Deb, “Go on, Justin.  She won’t bite, I promise.”

Slowly, looking for an escape with each passing step, Justin approached the obnoxious woman.  It wasn’t that he feared her, but not knowing what her role would be in his enslaved life made him wary.

Deb closed the gap between them with a few steps, taking Justin’s chin in her hand and turning his head back and forth.  “Shit, you are a pretty thing.  I’m sure you fetched a high price,” she admitted, throwing a glare back at Brian.  “Are you hurt, kiddo?  Anything broken or torn?” her hands went to the hem of his t-shirt, “Let’s take a look at you--”

“N-no!” the boy shrieked, propelling himself back, “Don’t--”

“Oh Honey,” Debbie started, taking another step towards the boy, “It’s okay.  What’d they do to you?  You tell me.  Come on.”

“STOP,” Justin put his hands in front of him, “Y-you’re not my master.  You have no RIGHT to touch me!”  Then he turned to Brian, “Master, please, she’s… she’s a woman and--”

It was at that point that Brian did intervene.  “No one is touching you, Justin,” he promised, placing at arm around his boy’s shoulders, “In fact, I’m not sure what she’s doing.”

“Christ, Brian, you’ve already got him wrapped around your deviant little finger, huh?” the redhead smacked her gum disapprovingly, “I’m not doing anything.  I just want to see if we have to take him to the doctor.  Sometimes trainers can be… rough.”  She raised her brows, “Nice to see he can talk though.”

“Oh, he talks alright,” the brunet confirmed, allowing Justin to snuggle… oh dear God, he was snuggling?… allowing Justin to burrow into his shoulder for the time being.  “Never really shuts up.  He’s either crying about his unfair fate or threatening me with bodily harm if I touch him.  I suppose you could say he’s traumatized.  I wonder why.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Deb barked.  “Of course, he’s traumatized, you ass hole.  The things he’s been through… would probably even make YOU blush.”

Brian cracked a knowing smirk, “That’s the thing, Deb.  He hasn’t been through… anything… at least until today.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?  You don’t even know, Brian.  Too worried about getting your dick sucked to find out.”

“Justin?  Be a doll and tell mother dearest how many men you’ve slept with.”

Justin’s eyes widened significantly, “I… um…”

“Don’t embarrass him, Brian--”

“Tell her.”

The blonde avoided both their stares and bit at his lip, hiding his face back in Brian’s chest.  “Zero, Ma’am.”

Debbie was uncharacteristically silent for a few moments.  “Zero?  ZERO?” she repeated, turning on Brian, “You bought a VIRGIN slave?  You sick son of a--”

“Mikey didn’t tell you who else was bidding on the boy, did he?” Brian accused, sick of being painted as the bad guy.  He may not have thought this through, but he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“What’re you talking about?”

“First of all, before you ask, I haven’t TOUCHED the boy… at least not in the full on sex sense,” he added hastily, “And second… the Sap…  Gary Saperstein was the other man bidding on him… and I didn’t… I couldn’t…”  Brian’s tone lost its edge as he tried to explain.

The woman’s face softened then as she nodded sadly, “You couldn’t let the son of a bitch anywhere near the kid… I get it…  For being such an ass hole, Brian, you sure can be a teddy bear.”

“Fuck off.”

“But you fucked up, kiddo.  You’re in WAY over your head.  This is not your--”

“--my world,” Brian finished, stepping away from Justin to run a hand through his hair, “Yeah, I got that.  Your meddling son mentioned it a few million times.”

“Well, he’s right,” she confirmed, “and now we need to figure out what to do about this… keeping everyone on neutral ground… and keeping your name out of it as much as possible.”

“I already know what I’m going to do,” Brian declared, upset without someone else making decisions for him.  “I’m keeping the kid 90 days and selling him… to someone other than the master of Babylon.”

“Brian, it’s not that--”

“Sell?” came a soft question, but it didn’t seem directed towards anyone in particular.  Justin shoved away from his master as his eyes stared unseeing at the wall behind Brian’s head.  “Sell?  You’re going to sell me.  Of course, you’re going to sell me.  That’s why you paid so much.  That’s why you won’t touch me…  That’s why… that’s why… Oh no…”

“Shit, fuck, Justin, no, you don’t--” Brian cut in, not wanting the boy’s thoughts to wander too far.

“NO!” Justin may not that been in the slave scene for more than a few years, but he knew how rare it was to find a master as patient as Brian, “No, Master, I can be… everything you want.  I was trained.  I wasn’t touched but I was trained well and I can please you--”

“I don’t want you to please me if--”

“Let’s go right now to the bedroom and I’ll show you the--”

“Justin--”

The boy switched tactics, turning to the Debbie, who now stood there quiet with tears in her eyes.  “Ma’am, you… you seem to know… you and your son seem to know a lot about the slave trade,” he explained, “You… y-you can tell him, right?  You tell him about the training I received.  I can be everything he wants, can’t I?”

“Oh baby,” Deb sighed, placing her hands on his cheeks, “Of course, you can, but in this case… it doesn’t make a difference.  He’s not looking for--”

“You can rent me out!” Justin suggested, whipping back to his master, “That can make you way more money than selling me!”

Brian took hold of his shoulders, “Justin, I’m not renting you out and I don’t need the money.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to mention that I’d sell you… I… I haven’t made any decisions yet, but… I…”

“Honey,” Deb began, coming up behind the blonde.  “We’ll do right by you, okay?  No one is gonna hurt you on our watch.  We’ll talk about this later.  Now just come sit down and have something to eat.  I have to talk to Bri-- to your master.  Okay?”

Justin shook his head as his lip trembled, searching Brian’s eyes.  “Please, Master.”

“Just stop thinking about it for now, alright?” Brian begged, struggling to keep his tone gentle.  Emotional ordeals were not his forte and he found himself wishing Justin’s eyes were latched onto Deb’s instead of his own.

“Please don’t sell me.”

“It’s months away, Justin.  We’ll figure something out.  Eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bull shit,” Brian scoffed, “Go sit down and eat, Justin.  We’re done discussing this for now.”

The boy’s face fell then as he turned back to his spot at the island and the casserole waiting for him.  “Yes, Master.”  Despite his initial protests, the second the food hit his tongue, the blonde started swallowing heaps into this stomach.

“Bottomless pit,” Brian repeated, “You couldn’t imagine how much he’s eaten already.”

“He’s 18,” Deb reasoned, “You want me to tell you about how much you ate when you were 18?”  She cocked her head at that, “Actually, you didn’t eat much… but I wish you had.  All I know is that I slept better on the nights you had a home cooked meal at my house… and I slept even better than that when I knew you were crashed out in Michael’s room for the night.”

Brian didn’t respond to that, and she hadn’t expected him to.

“But Michael… MICHAEL… ate like a horse.  Growing boys.”  She cast a glance back at Justin, “Let him eat.  He’s probably not use to having food up for grabs whenever he’d like.”

“He isn’t,” Brian sighed and replied in hushed tones, “He told me his trainer told him his new master would reward him with food…  Been waiting all day for it and never asked.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“I take it that’s not the norm.”

“Sometimes it is,” came the explanation, “but every trainer is different… some harsher than the rest…  His sounds like a real control freak.  I’m surprised the bastard kept him a virgin.  Must have been greedy as fuck.”  She wiped her sweaty palms on her colorful purple shirt, “I take it you didn’t ask many questions?”

“The guy grossed me out,” Brian admitted, nodding his head towards the couch.  “I didn’t want to ask.”

“We may have to look him up,” Deb warned as the two settled on the sofa away from Justin’s ears, “The more we know about his training, the easier it’ll be on Justin.”  Although she’d initially been upset with Brian’s actions, she now realized that Brian had been acting on good intentions… as misled as they were… and her only concern now was helping her adoptive son… and his new slave… out of this mess with as little pain as possible.

“I’d rather not.”

“Justin is going to assume you know everything he does.  It’ll be easier for both of you if you do.  What else has he told you?”

“Oh… sold into slavery three years ago by his parents.  Trainer told him it was his only role in life to pleasure me sexually…  You know, normal stuff,” Brian spat, disgusted by the suggestions being made.

Debbie was quiet for a long moment.  “You really plan to sell him?”

“Well, I can’t keep him,” the older man claimed.

“You haven’t touched him?”

“Told you I didn’t.  Told him I wouldn’t.”

“You lied.”

“What do you mean, I lied?  I didn’t lie.  Sure, I gave him a shitty blowjob to take care of the fucking drugs in his system, but I didn’t fuck him and I don’t intend to.”

“You lied then,” Deb echoed herself.  “You lied.  You will fuck him.  You have to if you want things to go smoothly for him.  You need to fuck him.  Take his virginity.  And soon.  Or you’ll have even more problems on your hands.”

***