Slave in Training

by Danny Tyran

  “The sun and my life are where I left them this morning, at home.”

  “I wish I could help you more, kid. Tell you what...”

  His sudden silence told me there were things he’d have liked to talk to me about, but couldn’t.

  “You made a promise, too, didn’t you? A promise of silence. Can you at least tell me if my case is hopeless?”

  “It depends on what you consider your case. If you think he’s going to marry you, you’re wrong. Anyway this country doesn’t allow two people of the same sex to marry. And even if the laws allowed it... James is a man of duty. He believes in what he’s doing. He won’t do anything that could damage his vocation, nothing that would prevent him from helping young people like yourself to achieve their full potential and become better people. He doesn’t need a servant, or a regular slave, he usually has two or even three slaves in training at the same time. Even if they aren’t always as good servants as they should be, what use has he for another slave?”

  “I could assist him in his task.”

  “Did he need an assistant to train you? And if he had kept at his side all the slaves who he has felt an affection for and who begged to stay with him, his house would become a colony.”

  “I thought he had more than affection for me. I thought that by working hard, becoming the best, he would keep me. I gave as much of myself as I was capable of, did everything I could to please him, but he rejected me anyway.”

  “You couldn’t have stayed any longer. As you said, even if Helena hadn’t been on the run, he wouldn’t have kept you. He needs to be alone for a while. James isn’t a superman, as you seem to believe. Gabrielle’s death hurt him more than you imagine. And your continued presence reminded him of it. Oh, he’ll recover. But he needs time. If you love him, Max, you’ll understand that. Don’t you want to allow him to recover, to become himself again?”

  “I left him, Sir. I did it because he asked me to, because I love him and wish him happiness, even though I can’t imagine life without him. It kills me.”

  “From the moment he met you, he could tell that you were different. And he knew that his relationship with you wouldn’t be as with all the others and everything would take on another dimension. He was afraid of not being able to help you live up to your full potential, Max. He worried about not having the talent or the strength to allow you to become the remarkable slave he knew you could be.”

  What I heard surprised me. James Teka, this man so strong, so sure of himself, doubted his own value as a trainer? Those words made him more human in my eyes, even dearer, more beautiful to me.

  “I’m sure you know almost nothing about him, except a few anecdotes about his past, while he knows everything about you. He wants the best for you, even if, to allow you to achieve your full potential, he must inflict on you both this separation that hurts him as much as you. Trust him, Max. He may not marry you, but he will continue to help you as best he can.”

  During the first leg of the flight that would take us to Chicago, Johnny described his journalistic work to me. He told me of his adventures worldwide and other journeys. He spoke of all the risks he had taken, dangers, injuries, fears. He told me how he felt alive on the streets of the world, amid men’s fury, when his life was hanging by a thread.

  After our stopover in Chicago, he told me about his experiences as a slave, his first master, his ordeal. He spoke to me about the slaves he had had and loved, about the learning difficulties of some, about others’ talent. All the time, carefully avoiding the words “sale” and “separation”.

  Me? I listened. I asked a few questions. I commented. He even managed to make me laugh, and for a change, the laughter was almost genuine. The memory of my master was always present, ardent in my mind, but now I found comfort in its blaze. I was grateful for Johnny’s help. I also suspected my master had chosen him rather than any other for the task of accompanying me, to help me throughout this journey and perhaps also to protect me. Otherwise why would Johnny be staying at the Hotel Andaluz in Albuquerque, instead of proceeding directly to Mexico?

  ~.~.~

  One of my new master’s employee was supposed to be waiting for me at the Albuquerque airport terminal. When we arrived, no one was there to greet me. Johnny got someone to make an announcement over the public address system. If my contact had arrived, he’d know where to find me. But nobody came. Johnny began to swear and curse.

  “Christ! Can’t they do anything right? It’s the same in Mexico. We set a time for a meeting and everybody arrives half an hour later.”

  “You don’t have to wait, Sir. I’ll sit on one of those benches over there. Someone will come eventually.”

  “No. I’m not in a hurry. That’s not the problem. But I’m furious when I think that we teach slaves to do things as well as possible, to act with discipline, not be late, or even early, and yet those to whom we entrust you don’t even know the word ‘punctuality’. Come on, let’s sit down.”

  He was angry. I imagined him describing this episode to my former master. The thought made me smile.

  “What’s so funny? Are you making fun of me now?”

  I told him what I was thinking.

  “I don’t think there is anything to laugh about. James doesn’t appreciate these kinds of delay anymore than I do.”

  “It’s not so bad.”

  “I already have to punish you for your complaints about James on the plane. And now you are contradicting me! Where is the washroom? Come on, follow me.”

  Smiling more broadly than ever, I mimicked his quick and resolute steps, as he followed the signs to the nearest washroom. There was one with several cubicles and another all by itself. It wasn’t locked, but it was for the airport staff. We entered anyway, and I locked the door. Johnny ordered me to drop my pants and step out of one of the legs while he removed his belt. Then he told me to lean on the urinal and pulled my feet toward him until I was almost horizontal. Then by kicking my feet to each side, he forced me to spread my legs out wider. He folded his belt in half and started hitting me.

  He didn’t spare me. He hit hard, without giving me time to catch my breath between each stroke. My buttocks had well healed from my test, but I still had a few yellow bruises and other marks. I cried and moaned. But I didn’t know if it was of pain or relief. I remembered how I’d been at the beginning of my relationship with my master when, every night, he punished me in the same manner for all my errors of the day.

  When Johnny stopped, I waited for permission to throw myself on my knees at his feet. I did it with so much enthusiasm that I hurt my kneecaps. I thanked him for his help during the trip, for everything he had told me, for giving me the courage to leave, for his friendship with James Teka, for this punishment that I had needed so much. I kissed his feet. We stayed like that for a long time, motionless, my mouth against his worn boots. I felt safe. Then we laughed while mixing our urine in the same urinal. While we washed our hands, I offered to give him a blowjob. He declined.

  When we got back to the waiting area, a small snub-nosed brunette was there. She was wearing jeans and a sleeveless blouse with a small red and white check design. As soon as she saw me, she said, “Where were you? You had to wait here.”

  Johnny became angry and told her what he thought of owners of hundreds of slaves who were unable to meet their commitments. The brunette asked him who he was. “His trainer?”

  “I’d have liked to train such a masterpiece of a slave. But his trainer is someone else.” Johnny smiled at me.

  Then the girl asked Johnny if he would be accompanying us.

  He replied, “Yes, I want to talk to his new master.”

  His answer surprised me. Had it been planned this way? The brunette, who hadn’t bothered to introduce herself, said she didn’t know if that would be possible.

  Johnny replied, “I’ll take care of what’s feasible and what’s not.” He seemed so sure of himself, so paternal, so protective of me. His reaction was a balm to my heart. It mad
e me regret the selfishness that had prompted me to lament my fate, my loss. Above all, I was repentant for doubting the love of my master. Nothing forced him to get me such a seasoned bodyguard as Johnny.

  “What’s your name?” Johnny asked the brunette.

  “Sarah McIntyre.”

  He introduced himself and we headed to the nearby airport parking area. A young man, who seemed even younger than me, was waiting in Sarah’s car. He got out when he saw us coming.

  Johnny shoved him against the side of the car, frisked him and removed a revolver the young man had been wearing under his worn leather jacket.

  Johnny’s behavior surprised me. Everything had happened so fast.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Johnny finally asked the frightened young man.

  “I’m his bodyguard,” he responded, pointing at me.

  “You, a bodyguard? You’re not even able to guard your own body. Do you have any other weapons?”

  “N... No.”

  “Move! We can’t stay here all day.” Johnny pushed the young man into the front seat, on the passenger side. Sarah, was already sitting behind the wheel, seemingly unfazed by his actions. More intent on rearranging her hair while looking in the rearview mirror.

  When Johnny and I were seated in the back, she started the car. The young man reached over to open the glove box. But Johnny pointed the young man’s gun at his head and ordered him not to touch anything, to remain motionless until the end of the journey. Why was Johnny doing this? Did he fear for my life? If so, why were we still traveling in their car?

  After driving for about twenty minutes, Johnny asked Sarah why she was heading in a southeastern direction as my new master’s property was supposed to be to the west. She just smiled at him. Johnny shifted the revolver away from the “bodyguard” and ordered Sarah to stop.

  In a flash, the young man had a new weapon pointed at Johnny. Where had that come from? The glove compartment or was it Sarah’s? I wanted to get up and snatch the stranger’s gun away, but Johnny moved faster. He shoved me roughly to the floor and hunkered down beside me. Two shots rang out. One must have gone through the windshield as I heard it shatter. For a moment, I thought the other one must have come from the stranger’s gun, wounding Johnny, but he ordered me to stay still.

  The car lurched. I was still crouching down when I saw the young man’s gun waving above my head, near the headrest. In a reflex action, I hit the hand that held the weapon as hard as I could. The gun went flying through the open window on my side of the car.

  Johnny warily straightened and, once again, pointed his gun at the young man’s head. “Stop if you don’t want your friend to die,” he warned Sarah. “I’ve already killed before. I can do it again.”

  Sarah, if that was her name, stopped the car. Johnny forced our two kidnappers to get out and asked who had hired them. Sarah just smiled. Johnny hit her in the face. She lost her footing and banged her head against the car. Johnny repeated his question. She smiled again while wiping blood off her split lip. Johnny pointed his gun at the young man again, kicked Sarah once with his steel-toe boot and repeated his question. “Do you want him to die? Answer my question.”

  She finally admitted that she didn’t know the name of their employer. But some woman had rung them and posted pictures of Johnny, me, my master and even Jerry and Samuel, in case one of them accompanied me. The envelope also contained half the amount due for the contract. The woman had told them exactly what to do, where they would find us and what to say to force us to follow them.

  When Johnny asked if they had noticed anything particular, a clue that could help us identify the woman, Sarah just shrugged and said she had a foreign accent, maybe Canadian.

  How had Helena - if she was the caller - been able to discover all this? Had she hired a private eye? Did she know anybody working for my new master? Was there another way for her to know? The only other persons to know everything were Jerry and our notary. And I had every confidence in Jerry’s innocence. Helena is the devil!

  Johnny and I got into the car, abandoning it near the hotel where he had booked a room for the night. Once inside the room, I collapsed on the carpet and leaned against the bed. Johnny phoned my new master and explained what had happened. He was hypercritical of the fact that none of the Antonio’s employees had been at the airport. When he hung up, I learned that indeed someone should have been there, waiting for me. This employee, a man in his thirties, had left for the airport early, so he would be on time. His employer worried because he had not heard from him.

  Next Johnny made a phone call to Montréal, to the man I still thought of as my master. He summed up what had happened and what my new owner had told him about his employee. They continued to talk for some time, Johnny answering with grunts or asking questions like “What?” “Where?” “When?” “How?” A true journalist at work. Each time, he was silent for a few minutes while my master talked. Johnny finished by giving him the phone number of the hotel and our room. Then he hung up and winked at me.

  “Seems like we have found Helena. We haven’t caught her yet, but James is expecting news about it any moment. Now he has the phone number of our hotel, he’ll call us back as soon as he learns something.”

  “But... What... What will happen to me?”

  “Relax, Max. You’ll probably stay here in New Mexico, as expected. But given the situation and the fact that you haven’t started your contract yet, it’s possible we may be able to break it.”

  My heart skipped a few beats. I was short of breath. I couldn’t believe what was happening. If I had to continue with this contract after hearing that I might be able to free myself from it, that would be the cruelest trick that life ever played on me.

  When the phone rang a few minutes later, I jumped so much that I banged my elbow on the bed. But it was just the hotel reception desk wanting to know if we needed anything. No, nothing but a bit of luck or a lot of courage.

  Time passed slowly and the phone still didn’t ring. Johnny suggested we get something to eat.

  “Go ahead, Sir. I can’t. Anyway, I’m not hungry.”

  He still ordered a huge pizza for two. Half-heartedly, I managed a few bites. If things continued like this, I’d end up as thin as a rake.

  While we were eating, I asked Johnny about what happened.

  “Am I right to think that my master has asked you to accompany me for my protection?”

  “No, we didn’t expect what happened. In fact, James wanted me to keep you company and talk to your new master to ensure that staying with him would be okay.”

  Maybe my master had another intuition just like for Gabrielle.

  “Nobody was supposed to know except James, Jerry, the notary, my new master, you and me. I trust everyone, except the notary. As for him; my master said he could lose everything if he revealed something. So I believed that Sarah and her accomplice were employed by Antonio until they threaten us. I didn’t understand straightaway why you acted as you did.”

  “I had doubts, but until this young fool threatened us, I was certain of nothing.”

  “You could have been injured or even killed.” Just the thought of it made me feel bad.

  “You too, Kid. When you hit this guy’s hand, I was afraid he pulls the trigger by mistake and kills you. I’m happy to have been there and we escaped unharmed.”

  “I acted on impulse, Sir. And he pointed his weapon in your direction. It’s you who would have died if things had gone wrong.”

  If it had happened, if Johnny had died because of me, I’d blame myself all my life.

  I spent the evening wearing out the carpet while Johnny cancelled his planned meeting and smoked cigarette after cigarette. I hadn’t even known he smoked anything other than cigars on rare occasions, just like my master. The room reeked of smoke and sweat.

  “May I take a shower?”

  “Sure. Make yourself at home.”

  Of course, I had just started my shower when the phone rang. I t
urned off the water, wrapped myself in a large towel and went back into the room, dripping water on the carpet. The few bites of pizza I had swallowed came back up in my mouth. If someone or something up there can hear me, help me, I beg of you!

  The conversation lasted a good half hour. I couldn’t understand much from the little I heard, except that Helena’s arrest hadn’t gone as well as planned.

  “James wants to talk to you,” Johnny said, holding out the phone.

  I approached and put the receiver to my ear. I was so afraid of what he might say. “Hello, Sir.”

  “Max. I guess you are anxious to know what happened and what will now happen to you.”

  “Yes, Master. I’m scared to death.” Bile rose into my mouth.

  A small huff of my master’s amusement caressed my soul. Hearing that laugh was so good! “Helena is seriously injured and in hospital. One man is dead, another wounded. A little bastard hired by Helena tried to kill us. Luckily Samuel was faster. But a security guard of the slave market in charge of the arrest was wounded in the process.”

  What was Samuel doing in this arrest? I’d have liked to know more about it, but I let my master continue speaking.

  “I had inserted a very important clause in your contract, Max. This clause allows me to stop the contract the moment your life is in danger. Antonio, your new master, committed himself to ensuring your protection. Since he didn’t fulfill this commitment, I’m entitled to have you back. We don’t even have to return a penny of what he paid for you. But I intend to reimburse it all except for your airfare and hotel. Since I wasn’t able to protect you properly either, you don’t owe me anything, Max. I am releasing you from any further commitment to me. You are free.”

  For the millionth time in two days, I started to cry. “I don’t want this freedom, Master. I belong to you just as much now as I did yesterday. Even more than ever if that is possible.”

  “Come on, Max. You should rejoice, you’re now free to choose what to do with your life. But I think I still owe you something. If you want to come here, you can spend your years of study in this house, I’ll be happy to have you here. But I’ll need you to figure out what you want to do after you’re finished. If you still want to be a slave, you’ll have to find another master. I can even sell you by auction at the end of your studies, Max, if it’s what you wish, but the money from the sale will go to you completely. If you prefer to learn how to find potential slaves, I can help you there. I can even train you to become a master if you want to be and have your own slaves. I’m willing to teach you what I know. But you’re not my slave anymore, Max. You’re a free man now. It’s up to you to choose.”