Heir to a Slave Read online

  Excited at the prospect of getting out of the house for the first time in weeks, Diego hurriedly followed.

  ****

  Jason twirled the end of the leash he held as he took in the sight of Diego wearing a pair of distressed jeans. The way the soft denim hugged the boy’s slender hips made Jason’s cock all twitchy, as if it hadn’t been rode hard and put up wet a few hours ago. At this rate, he might have to do something really unacceptable like have Diego blow him in the dressing room. Yeah, that would be a problem. The clerks were already eyeing him funny because he was buying his slave clothing at a free person store. After returning his rental car, though, he’d checked out the slave store and no way he’d dress someone as beautiful as Diego in such pedestrian clothes. And, hey, he had bank now, or would have it soon, so he could indulge himself.

  “We’ll definitely get three pairs of these and two of the black jeans. Plus all the shirts looked really good on you, so we’ll also buy those.”

  Diego didn’t gainsay him, of course he didn’t. Yet, he looked a bit dubious, a piece of his bottom lip trapped by an upper tooth. He was so adorable, Jason wanted to kiss him. He resisted the urge, of course, because that would lead to one of those inappropriate actions that could get him arrested. He might not mind for himself, but he didn’t want his slave to end up in custody. No telling what happened to slaves while kept at a police station as confiscated property. Diego had clearly suffered at Vince’s hand, and Jason had this strong need to protect the boy from any more harm.

  “Keep those on and bring the rest so we can have the clerk ring them up.” He patted his own stomach when it gave a little rumble. “I’m starving and want to try that restaurant next door.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Diego quickly gathered up the other clothing and stood silently in front of Jason with his arms full. It took Jason a second to realize why. With an inward sigh, he clipped the leash onto the choke collar Diego wore. Jason wasn’t surprised Vince had gone with something flashy, a chain made of platinum probably with the “M” engraved on the tag being so elaborate, it was almost impossible to recognize the letter. Jason hated this idea of dragging his slave around by a leash as if Diego represented some kind of risk to anyone. He hadn’t even thought of it when he’d started to leave the house that morning. It had been Diego who had held it out to him. The slave had known better than Jason how necessary the leash was.

  A sign on the front of the store clearly said leashed slaves were mandatory. How many times had Jason gone into places with that requirement? He’d never even noticed because he hadn’t had a slave before. In any event, there was something immensely sad about a person having to carry their own symbol of subjugation. If Diego felt that way, however, he didn’t show it in the least. Jason didn’t want to picture what kind of brutal training ensured that Diego effectively hid his feelings on everything.

  Except when the boy came. That intense look of pleasure couldn’t possibly be fake. Jason was sure the naked expression was genuine, and knowing he pleased his slave as much as his slave pleased him helped alleviate Jason’s natural guilt about owning people and using them.

  The clerk rang them up with a sniff of disdain. The final and large tally that Jason’s credit card accepted went a long way toward soothing any imagined slight the man had over helping to sell to a slave. When Jason asked him to snip off the tags on the shirt and jeans Diego had worn out of the dressing room, the clerk looked as if he would balk. Then he did as requested without a word. Jason understood quickly why the guy didn’t put up a fuss. As he removed the tag on Diego’s back pocket, the man took the opportunity to slide his finger between Diego’s legs and cop a quick feel. Diego didn’t even flinch.

  That passive acceptance of a casual violation incensed Jason more than anything. A slave might not be able to object, but a master could. Grabbing the clerk’s arm, Jason jerked the man in close.

  “Knock it the fuck off, asshole.” The man looked back at him wide-eyed. Good. Jason rarely used his size and strength against anyone violently, yet he was immensely satisfied with the reaction. “Give me the scissors, so I can finish the job.”

  The man did as told, and Jason quickly removed all the tags. He patted Diego on the shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Although who was he fooling? As a slave, Diego had been raised to acquiesce to all free people touching him and ordering him around. Whether it was Jason or some random sales clerk, did it really matter to the boy? Perhaps not, but it mattered to Jason, and his instant possessiveness kind of scared him. He’d effectively owned this boy for less than twenty-four hours and already he acted territorial.

  The combination of moral uncertainty, jet lag and hunger had given him the beginnings of a headache. Only one problem could be satisfied at the moment, though. He led Diego out of the store and over to the car. Vince’s car, now his. He’d orchestrated a dance of cars with Alphonse, so that he could drive himself and Diego around to do better shopping. He’d found a killer parking space right in the middle of the quaint downtown area. Poor Alphonse had nearly burst a blood vessel over Jason insisting on driving himself. Of course, being a slave, the older guy had handed the keys over without any outward fuss even though Jason had seen the tension in the guy’s expression. The big, black luxury sedan Vince had been driven around in handled like a dream. Still, Jason had it in mind to buy something faster and sportier when he had the chance.

  With the packages locked up, Jason moved down the sidewalk, Diego trailing him by necessity given the amount of people going in both directions. Jason stopped at the front of the restaurant that had caught his eye and grunted at the sign that like the store, warned him not to try bringing in an unleashed slave. Crap. That probably meant they wouldn’t allow Diego to sit and eat with him, either. Scanning the surrounding area, he saw no other restaurant other than an ice cream shop that might have sandwiches. He wanted something more substantial, so with an element of regret, he opened the door and stepped inside.

  He loved the ambiance immediately, wood and fern, although in a hipster sort of way that spoke to his bohemian soul. The place smelled delicious, too, and his stomach made it clear that regardless of Jason’s misgivings about the slave code, it wanted food ASAP. A cute hostess smiled up at him from behind a podium.

  “Table for one?”

  “Is that my only option?” he replied with a quick nod toward Diego.

  Her face turned contrite. “’Fraid so. Slaves have to either kneel or stand so long as they don’t get in the way of the servers. You can share your food with him, if you want, but only by hand. You can’t use any of the utensils.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sometimes patrons have a real problem using stuff that has touched a slave’s mouth even though it’s gone through the dishwasher.”

  Yeah, Jason bet, though, that they had no trouble with having a slave’s mouth on their cock or cunt. There was no point in getting angry at the hostess. She didn’t make the rules, and even if she did, it was what it was.

  “Okay, can I get a corner table?”

  “Oh, sure.” She seemed happy to give him what he wanted and led him over to a quiet place where Diego would have plenty of room to kneel or even sit in the floor.

  Settling in his seat, Jason looped the end of the leash over the back of his chair and gestured down. “Why don’t you sit? Kneeling will get uncomfortable, I should imagine.”

  “If it pleases you, Master, I’d rather kneel.”

  “Um, sure, whatever you prefer.”

  Vaguely uncomfortable himself, Jason snatched up the menu and studied it, trying not to notice Diego’s graceful acceptance of his lot. “How about the warm spinach salad?” As soon as the question left his mouth, he realized that would be a mistake. No way he could hand feed Diego a salad. “Nah, that’s no good.” With pursed lips, he checked out the sandwich selections. “Roast turkey club on onion focaccia. With avocado. How does that sound?” he asked looking down.

  Diego had his gaze firmly on the floo
ring. That was getting old really quickly. Jason wanted the boy to look at him directly. He loved staring into those warm, brown eyes. So, he reached down and carded his fingers through the slave’s thick, curly hair and gently tugged on the strands so that the boy’s face tilted up. Even so, Diego kept his eyes down.

  Frustrated, Jason said, “Look at me.”

  With a few flutters of his lashes, Diego did as told. He looked so supremely uncomfortable with looking his master in the eye—blinking rapidly and with his cheeks flushing a pretty pink—Jason let go of him. The server showed up at that moment anyway. The cheery looking man put a tall glass of cold water on the table for Jason and pulled out a pad and pen.

  “What can I get you, sir?”

  Closing up the menu, Jason sat back and smiled. “Well, first, do you have bottles of water?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Great. I’ll have one of those for my boy here. And two turkey clubs with avocado, please.”

  “Two?”

  “Yup.”

  The man slid his gaze over and down. A sneer crossed his face before he hid it again with a faintly pleasant look. Jason had caught the display, though, and intended to factor that little show of contempt into the guy’s tip.

  The server dutifully scribbled the order on his pad. “I’ll be right back with the bottle, sir.” Grabbing the menu, he left.

  Jason drank some of his own water, and placed his other hand on Diego’s head. Maybe he was treating Diego equally bad. The slave might see the petting of his head as a form of condescension no better than a server in a restaurant resenting his eating along with a free man. Still, he found it oddly comforting and hoped Diego did, too.

  The server returned and practically tossed the bottle of water on the table. Yup, that tip was going down, down, down. The guy also brought a stack of paper napkins as if expecting Diego would make a mess. Jason shook his head. If the guy only knew. Diego’s training made him far neater and more refined than probably anyone in the whole place.

  To pass the time, Jason pulled out his phone and did a search of restaurants in the area that served slaves. Next time he went out with Diego, he’d be better prepared because no way he would ever make the boy sit on the floor to eat ever again. A text came in and he switched functions. He couldn’t keep the grin off his face when he saw it came from Kurt. They’d been travelling together for most of the summer. Jason had liked the mid-western guy more than he’d ever liked any other boy and had seen a glimmer of something more in their growing relationship. Kurt had decided to spend another few days in London before promising to join Jason. He would be there by the end of the week.

  Jason’s heart tripped at the knowledge. He missed Kurt, and spending time with him back in the land of ordinary instead of in exotic locals would give Jason a better idea if they had a chance to last as a couple. Then he glanced down at Diego and frowned. How was that going to work? He hadn’t expected to inherit a body slave from Vince. With a boyfriend in residence, Jason wouldn’t need the pleasure slave aspect of Diego’s training, yet the idea of not having that pleasure kind of disappointed him. The answer was obvious, though. He and Kurt could enjoy Diego together. Sex with Kurt was off the charts, the same way it was with Diego. The three of them would be mind-blowing.

  Excited at the prospect, he texted Kurt back, teasing him with a promise of a real treat when he arrived. He didn’t have a chance to mention it to Diego, however, as the server returned with two plates of food. He placed both in front of Jason.

  “Don’t let your boy touch the plate. It’s against restaurant policy.”

  Jason let his frustration show. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.” He dismissed the server with the abrupt acknowledgment and didn’t even wait for the guy to leave before placing one of the quarters of the sandwich on a napkin and handing it down to Diego.

  Jason grabbed up his own quarter and bit into it like a starving man. God, it was really good, the perfect ratio of mayo to innards, the avocado thinly sliced, real roasted turkey breast and perfectly cooked bacon. Too bad he had no intention of coming back. As he chewed another mouthful, he looked down at Diego. The slave was eating with his usual fastidiousness, not dropping so much as a crumb. Popping the last bit of the quarter sandwich into his mouth, Jason reached for the bottle of water, opened it and handed it down to Diego. The boy gave Jason a grateful smile before taking a long pull of his drink.

  Jason alternated between consuming his own meal and helping Diego access his own. It was a ridiculous and tedious process, but fortunately they were both so hungry they finished in no time. Jason hastily paid the bill and headed back to the car. Relief settled over him once they were seated and pulling away from the curb. He hadn’t appreciated how tense it was to be out and about with a slave in tow until he no longer had to worry about what he or Diego did. He wondered if he would ever get used to the stilted way one had to behave with a slave in public. The closer they got to home, a place where he could act however he wanted, the more Jason relaxed.

  Once they arrived, Jason took the stairs two at a time in his haste to return to the bedroom. Diego kept up with him, of course, carrying the shopping bags. Inside the room, Jason shoved the door shut behind Diego and started stripping out of his clothes.

  “Let’s go spend the afternoon by the pool. I want to do a full sketch of you out in the sunlight. Go ahead and put those away,” he added with a nod toward the bags. When Diego hesitated, Jason stopped mid-strip and cocked his head. “Is something the matter?”

  Diego blushed and dipped his head. “I’m sorry, Master. Should I put these away down in my room in the slaves’ quarters or up here?”

  “Oh.” Jason frowned. “I guess I just assumed that this is your bedroom, too.”

  Diego’s blush deepened. “I’ve spent every night up here when there’s a master in residence, but my room is in the basement.” He took a noticeably deep breath. “I haven’t kept clothes up here because…”

  “Because my uncle didn’t let you wear any so there was none to keep,” Jason finished for him. He mentally smacked his head for not thinking of that. “Well, I want you to keep them up here. Go ahead and make room for them in the closet. And, grab my swim suit from the drawer will you?”

  Jason took a quick detour to the bathroom, and when he returned moments later, Diego had already placed the board shorts on the bed and was hanging up the last of his clothing. Jason wiggled into the shorts and amused himself by staring at Diego’s ass. Damn, those jeans did a fine job of showing off the slave’s physique. He weighed the idea of shucking down to his skin once more and fucking the afternoon away instead of going to the pool. When Diego finished, he turned to look at Jason. Something of his thoughts must have showed. Diego’s cheeks went pink again. Damn, that was so cute. Even after all the training and experience he had, Diego could still get embarrassed over sex. The sight proved irresistible.

  “Come here,” Jason ordered in a voice as thick as his dick had suddenly become.

  Diego didn’t hesitate. Of course, he didn’t. He didn’t have to be told, either, to kneel between Jason’s legs and pull the shorts down enough to free Jason’s cock. Jason gasped and shuddered the moment the slave sucked him down. Locking his knees to steady himself, Jason also grabbed the nearest bed post with one hand and a fistful of Diego’s hair with the other. He closed his eyes and focused on the delicious feel of Diego’s tongue curling around his rod.

  Diego slowly worshiped Jason’s dick with mouth, lips, teeth and tongue. They worked in such beautiful concert that Jason was robbed of all thought and feeling beyond that which occurred in his groin. His breath stuttered out on a low groan when a delicate hand cradled his tight balls. Experienced fingers gently rolled them, then lightly squeezed, forcing another groan past Jason’s lips.

  “Fuuck! So good.” Jason tightened his grip on his slave’s hair and tugged. “Suck harder. Yes, like that. Take me down. All the way.” He pushed Diego’s head at the same time he thrust into that awesome,
welcoming heat.

  Jason held Diego down and thrust again. “That’s it. Swallow me. God!” Throwing back his head, Jason came in a rush of pounding blood and hard spasms of his cock. The way Diego worked his throat muscles, in wave after wave, milked Jason’s dick dry with a force that had him standing up on his toes. With a final spurt, he let Diego go and staggered back against the bed. His dick slid out of Diego’s mouth, and a small scrape of teeth pulled a final drop of come out of him. He collapsed and plopped down onto the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

  Jason sat boneless against the side of the bed, eyes closed, and chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath. After a few seconds of “holy shit,” he propped his eyelids open. Diego remained kneeling by one of Jason’s legs, demurely staring at the floor. But, his cheeks were even more red and his lips a bit puffy. Most importantly, the slave’s hard dick pressed against the crotch of his new jeans. The sight not only pleased Jason, it alleviated a low-level guilt that he’d been too rough with the boy. If Diego were a free man, Jason wouldn’t have thought anything of being aggressive sexually. Given that a slave had no choice, he worried about taking advantage. An erection, however, made it clear that the slave had liked what had happened to some degree.

  Without giving it any thought, Jason lunged forward and tackled Diego down on his back. The slave gave a little cry of shock, yet didn’t resist. He lay spread-eagle on the floor, unmoving as Jason yanked the boy’s jeans open. He gasped when Jason freed his dick and licked it from root to tip.

  “M-master?” he stuttered out.

  “Shush, I’m indulging my taste for dick,” Jason admonished, with his lips rubbing against the hard flesh.

  No lie that, Jason loved sucking cock almost as much as he loved having his own sucked. Diego’s pretty and slender dick was an easy mouthful to take in and lavish with all the attention Jason could call up in his semi-spaced-out condition. He laved the underside of the boy’s throbbing flesh, making an extra effort to stimulate the bundle of nerves right below the head. Diego rewarded him with small jerks of his hips and little panting breaths. Jason took a moment to wet a finger and worked it into Diego’s hole. As soon as he found the prostate, he began to work his slave’s body from the inside out and outside in with a rhythm that he knew from experience was guaranteed to blow a guy’s mind as well as his load. He made a mental note to urge his slave to give him the same treatment next time. Then, swallowing the hot, hard length as far down as he could, he hummed against the tight flesh.