Excerpt: Break the Chains
Avery sat on the floor of his cage, piss pooling around him. The noise of the slave auction was deafening; he could barely hear the auctioneer rattling off prices or the shaking of bars from the cage next to his.
Once upon a time he’d been one of the cage rattlers, when he’d resisted the life he’d sold himself into. He laughed but choked on a sob. He could hardly remember the cocky young man he’d been: fresh out of college and believing he knew everything there was to know about the world. He’d been bored with politics, bored with luxury, bored with life. One shady online listing later, and he found himself signing a contract for life with the Circle.
“We can’t promise your life will be pleasant,” the suited man in shades had said, “but we can assure you it will be unusual.” From there, Avery had been shipped to a slave auction naked and in chains.
He recalled the eager, wide eyes he’d had back then, scanning the crowd, wondering with relish who his new owner would be. Would he become an agent for the CIA, a ghost traveling the world and engaging in black ops? Would he be chosen as a sex slave, a pet for a politician domestic or foreign? An assassin? A porn star?
A glob of spit jerked him back to reality, and he looked up from his dirty knees to see a fat politician eyeing him with lust.
“Don’t spit on the merchandise,” a bouncer warned him, and the politician backed off with a sneer, the flag pin on his lapel gleaming as it caught the low fluorescent lights in the warehouse. Avery might have felt relief at one point, but there was only weariness in his soul now.
His fingers absently traced a scar on his lower back from the time he’d been bought by an Indian hospital as an organ donor. A part of his liver and one kidney had been taken before they’d sold him on at a profit. The missing limbs he often saw among other slaves told him it could have been much worse—that it could still become worse. He was no longer young and pretty, unbroken by the world. His blue eyes had lost their spark, and his body was raked with scars and wounds from various owners with a proclivity for violence. His current owner hadn’t even bothered to wash him before sending him to the auction, and his cum still seeped from Avery’s hole.
He wanted to die. Worse, he wanted to go back in time and strangle the child he’d been to think the world he’d lived in was boring. He would kill to go back to that life, but it was too late. Once the Circle had your signature, you were doomed to Eternity in their Hell.
“Cheer up,” a neighbor whispered. Avery looked up to see a cute young boy, barely eighteen, with long blond locks hanging down to his waist and a collar made of studded diamonds around his throat. “Maybe you’ll get a good Master next time.”
“Maybe you won’t.” Avery said. The boy recoiled as Avery had intended.
A spotlight shone on his cage and a stick prodded him through the bars. Avery scrambled to his feet before the security guard could activate the shock features of his baton.
“Nice cock on this one,” the auctioneer said. “Shame he’s beat and dirty. If only owners washed the merch before the auction, they could fetch a much higher price.”
“Looks like he’s been around the block a bit,” the security guard said. “Let’s face it, they lose value as soon as their owners put scars and tattoos on them.”
“Record says he came back from the organ house. Surprised they didn’t take more.”
“Probably gonna end up at the mines, despite that nice prick. A shame.” The auctioneer shrugged.
The security guard stepped forward with a needle. Avery pressed his limp cock through the bars, barely even feeling the needle pierce his skin. He’d been afraid of it once upon a time, but resisting was far worse. All the shot did was give him a raging erection so that the pleasure slave buyers could see what he had to offer in that department. If he was smart, he’d stroke himself a little, try and show off his better side in hopes he’d end up as some guy’s toy. It sucked, but it was better than the organ house or the mines, where he’d certainly die. He stifled a dry laugh with a cough. Why was he still trying to keep himself alive? There was no escape from the Circle, not ever. They owned the police, the government, and the security services—hell, all of them were the Circle’s biggest clients.
His cock hardened and swelled, his heart quickening as he longed for someone—anyone—to fuck.
“Let’s get the bidding started on this one.” The auctioneer clapped his hands. “Record says he’s twenty-nine, signed into the Circle at age twenty-one. May be a little past his prime now, but I know some of you like them a little older. Used to be a CEO’s son in his former life—wow, I did not see that coming. Cock’s a good eight inches erect—definitely good pleasure slave material. I think he’d clean up nicely, with a little TLC. Let’s start the bidding at a thousand.”
A thousand. Avery’s heart lurched a little. He’d sold for ten million at his first auction to an old man who’d believed him a virgin. He’d spent his first six months living with other pleasure slaves in a huge mansion in Spain before the old man had keeled over dead from a heart attack and his disgusted wife had sold all the slaves at a bargain. It had been a boring first ownership, not so different from his life as the CEO’s son, except for the amount of cock he was getting on a daily basis. That life seemed tempting now, compared to the things he’d seen and done since.