“I trust you just as much,” Wren reminded him. “And you’re a hell of a lot better at dealing with Isis than I’ve ever thought of being. Hell, you’re better with most people than I am. You’re friendly and kind and you care about people. If the three of us could leave tomorrow, I know you’d still have doubts, because you actually care about your patients. Even though they don’t deserve you.”
“Yeah, and none of that makes me a good master, at least, not by Arona’s standards.” Jere was pretty sure that the fact that he was making the very masterly decision to keep the possibility of escaping to freedom from Wren and Isis made him a better master, according to most people here. It still made him feel like a terrible person.
“It makes you easy to work with, which makes people like you,” Wren insisted. “You can get away with things because of it. They’d catch on to me too quickly. I’m too demanding, and not at all flexible. Given the choice, I want things my way, all the time.”
“You should demand that I be flexible,” Jere suggested, glancing up at Wren and giving him a flirty look. “Other people are crazy for not wanting you to be demanding. You’re sexy when you’re demanding.”
“Oh, am I?” Wren took the bait. “Well that’s lucky for you, because you’re sexy when you’re obeying my demands.”
“I don’t think I really remember what that looks like,” Jere said, trying his hardest not to smile. Of course he remembered; every sexy interaction he had experienced with Wren seemed burned into his mind, turning him on for days after. But still, he wanted more. The opportunity to stop talking about serious slave-owning business was welcome, too.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to give you a reminder, then, won’t I?” Wren replied, clearly fighting back a smile of his own. “Unless you don’t really want it. I don’t think you were very convincing just a moment ago. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you.”
Jere squirmed his way out of Wren’s arms, going to his knees on the bed instead. “Please. Take advantage of me. I want you to. Tell me what to do. Be the demanding master that I never want to be.”
Wren looked quite happy to oblige Jere in his wishes. He moved quickly, his beautiful, naked body almost a blur, and the only thing Jere regretted was that he couldn’t look at him longer. Sometimes he thought he could just look at Wren for hours, memorizing every inch of his skin, as if it wasn’t as familiar as his own body by now. But he was happy that Wren was as eager to play as he was, and he smiled when he saw Wren returning with the padded cuffs that Jere had bought so long ago. They were of high quality, withstanding many nights of the pulling and tugging and twisting that they had been subjected to.
“You’re feeling flexible tonight,” Wren reminded him. “So let’s see you get all nice and stretched out for me. On your back, so I can see your face.”
Jere moved happily into position, eagerly allowing Wren to take control of his movements and to set the pace, which was rapid and exciting. He felt Wren attach his wrists and ankles to the bedposts one by one, and he pulled at them appreciatively once Wren had finished.
“This is much better.” Forget being a strong master; if he could spend every day obeying Wren’s orders in bed, he would do it in a heartbeat.
“You like being mine,” Wren stated, looking surprised by the fact even after all this time. “Letting me make all the decisions, taking what I want from you.”
“Yes.” Jere shivered as he felt his excitement start to grow. He felt the light hairs all over his body start to stand up, and he looked eagerly at Wren, waiting to feel where he was going to be touched first.
He was surprised, but not at all turned off when what he felt was Wren speeding away from the bed, returning with a blindfold. Jere obligingly lifted his head, allowing Wren to fasten the fabric around the back, smoothing the knots down so Jere would still be able to lie back comfortably.
“That’s better,” he heard Wren say. “You were looking a little too curious for my taste. I want you to forget everything else and just focus on what I’m about to do to you.”
Jere smiled, feeling the tension drain out of his body immediately. This was perfect, exactly what he needed to relax and re-center himself. He lay there, waiting for the next sensation, smiling as he was rewarded with a light stroke of his cock.
“I’m focused,” Jere decided, loving the way that Wren’s hand felt on his skin.
“Good.” Wren’s reply was short. Clearly, he wasn’t intending on talking too much, and Jere was fine with that. Actions could be far louder than words, and much more pleasurable, too.
Jere let himself relax, enjoying Wren’s light, slow working of his cock. He noticed how good it felt, and he noticed how it coincided with his breathing. As Wren sped up, so did Jere’s breath, and he found himself brought quickly to the edge. He had just enough time to wonder if Wren was going to just bring him off immediately, with no further play, and just when he was giving in and about to come, Wren backed off.
Jere whimpered in protest.
“Hush,” Wren said firmly.
A second later, Jere felt Wren’s body stretching out on top of his, barely making contact. Wren’s cock brushed against his leg, Wren’s chest brushed against his stomach, and soon, Wren’s lips were locking with Jere’s.
Kissing him hungrily in return, Jere squirmed and lifted his hips off the bed, eager to grind against his lover, hopeful that maybe he could find release.
No such luck. All his efforts earned him was a smack on the leg, and Wren pulling back from the kiss.
“You stay still unless I tell you to move,” Wren ordered. He was clearly trying to be stern, but Jere could picture the barely concealed smile that would be on his face.
“Yes, sir,” Jere replied, his tone as playful as the expression he knew Wren would have.
Wren continued to tease him, rubbing his body against Jere’s, kissing him, and only rarely touching his cock. Still, Jere grew hard and needy, giving into shameless begging in a matter of minutes.
“Please?” he whimpered. “Please, Wren?”
“What would you like?” Wren replied, his tone deceptively innocent.
“I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you inside of me, right now.”
Wren smiled, Jere could feel the expression since Wren had his face pressed to his chest.
“We’ll get to that when I’m ready,” Wren replied. He spent some time exploring Jere’s body with his tongue, working it over his neck and his chest, licking and biting hard at Jere’s nipples until he screamed and moaned, the pain and pleasure almost too much to bear.
Wren didn’t stop there. He kept going lower, trailing his tongue over Jere’s cock. Jere forced himself to stay still, obeying Wren’s standing orders not to take him by surprise or shove his cock down his throat.
By the time Wren actually did take Jere in his mouth, Jere was clutching tightly at the sheets, doing his best to keep from thrusting up to meet Wren with every move, desperate and horny. The harder Jere tried to be still, the slower Wren went. The torturous nature of the slowness was made even worse by the knowledge that Wren could go so much faster if he wanted to.
Clearly, Wren didn’t want to, and Jere took great pleasure in surrendering to his desires.
Wren brought him back to the edge expertly, taking his time and starting to work Jere’s ass with his fingers while he did. Jere loved the feeling of Wren touching him like that, preparing him, and he couldn’t help but think of how delicious it was going to be to have Wren’s cock buried deep inside of him. He was so busy fantasizing that he barely noticed the temperature increasing, Wren’s hands and tongue becoming so much warmer than natural. It only served to increase his arousal, making him gasp and clench tightly around Wren’s fingers.
“Please, Wren, I want you now,” Jere begged. “I can’t wait any longer! Let me take your cock!”
Wren laughed, the act sending excruciatingly pleasant vibrations up the length of Jere’s cock and seeming to spread throughout his whole body.
Then he was gone, just like that, leaving Jere shamelessly thrusting his hips into the air.
“I thought you said you wanted me to make the demands, not you.”
Jere could only moan in response. A few moments later, he felt the blindfold being removed, and he blinked at the sudden return of sight. He smiled as he saw Wren next to him, unfastening the restraints.
“I want to feel your legs wrapped around me while I fuck you,” Wren mentioned, nonchalant, as if the words didn’t make Jere’s cock threaten to explode from impatience.
Wren unfastened his arms as well, but seemingly only so that he could grab Jere’s hands, pinning them to the bed as he positioned himself between Jere’s legs.
Jere trembled. Wren was remarkably intimidating like this, holding him down firmly, his cock ready at Jere’s entrance. The look on his face was almost unnaturally calm, focused on what he was doing.
“Don’t even think of moving,” Wren ordered, a dangerous look in his eyes. “Not so much as an inch. I’ll tie you back up and leave you like that all night if you do.”
Jere thrilled at the threat. He didn’t know if Wren was serious, and he didn’t particularly care, because the threat alone was enough to get him even more worked up than he already was. He felt Wren sliding into him, painfully slow, and he fought to keep still, his muscles clenching and releasing almost involuntarily, protesting the slow fucking that just seemed to continue, on and on, until Wren was completely inside.
“Now, wrap your legs around me,” Wren ordered, holding them both still until Jere did as he asked. “Good.”
With that word, Wren started moving quickly, taking Jere by surprise as he fought to hold on to Wren’s body with his legs. He struggled to take Wren’s cock pounding in and out of his ass. Jere cried out in joy, finally getting the fucking he had been begging for, and he clutched tightly to Wren’s hand, which was still pinning his arms above his head. With his legs around Wren like this, it was nearly impossible for him to move. He had no other choice but to lie there and let Wren fuck him at his own pace.
Jere had no idea how long it was before he felt Wren’s free hand trailing down, grabbing at his cock. Jere yelped, knowing he would be unable to hold off for too long, as worked up as he was. “Wren,” he breathed, unable to put any of it into words.
“Don’t you think my intention is to make you come for me?” Wren asked, stroking Jere’s cock in time with his thrusts.
Jere really wasn’t thinking about anything, he was too busy feeling. He squeezed his legs tight around Wren’s body, trying to hold him closer, and he came hard, gasping and shaking as he felt Wren come as well.
Jere felt like everything had been drained out of him, all the worry, all the tension... all the bones. He lay there, letting his legs drop back to the bed, waiting for Wren to make the next move. He was enjoying his own bliss far too much to worry about things like cleaning up or speaking.
Wren seemed to have a little more energy, and he got up and brought back a towel, cleaning them off, and cuddling close to Jere.
“Thank you,” Jere whispered, pulling Wren’s arms around him. “I needed that.”
Jere lay there, comfortable and safe in Wren’s arms. If he could just stay like this forever, he would be content. But as Wren’s breaths evened out into sleep, Jere felt reality weighing down on him again. He knew he was good at playing master, at doing the scripts Wren had made for them. He even managed in the clinic with Hojer’s citizens. But would he and Isis really be able to handle a formal certification? It was easy to pretend that Isis was their biggest problem, but Jere’s biggest fear had nothing to do with her.
A slave’s mistakes could be punished and moved past. A master had no other option but to succeed.
Chapter 17
Certification
Jere and Isis walked into the certification center, the nervousness buzzing between them and creating a terrible feedback loop. Jere could feel the terror from Isis just a little bit through the mind connection, which was the most he ever felt from her. So often, she was a blank slate, a puzzle, giving off almost no psychic presence at all.
Jere checked in and read through the requisite paperwork, Isis on her knees next to him, trembling. He reviewed his information as a slaveowner, Isis’s history as a slave, and a bunch of disclaimers for the certification. He was relieved to read that he wouldn’t be asked to physically harm her as part of the certification, but less thrilled by the part where he might be instructed to scare or yell at her. The mind-connection would be shut down and monitored by a psychic specialist, preventing him from coaching her at all. He could only hope that they did well.
After returning the paperwork, Jere sat and waited until he was called. A stern-faced team of two men and one woman called him and Isis into a back room, where they were left to stand awkwardly as the papers were reviewed. Jere was pretty sure it was just to make them more nervous.
“Doctor Peters. We’ve received a special notice about your case.”
Jere tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth, overcome with his own anxiety as well as Isis’s. He forced his voice to stay normal. “Oh?”
“It seems that this slave was charged with assaulting an officer last year?” the man asked, pulling another paper from a folder and handing it to his colleagues. “And you want to take her out of the state now?”
Jere did his best to crush the anxiety down and recall Wren’s advice on being haughty and dismissive. “She’s barely more than a child,” he said, trying to look bored instead of scared. “She still had a lot to learn, then, but those bad habits have been most thoroughly corrected. It’s not my fault her previous trainers had been lenient and shoddy in their work. Perhaps the state-run training facilities in Arona aren’t all they’re made out to be.”
The man frowned, but seemed to accept Jere’s story. The other two colleagues smirked, and Jere hoped that they had been at least somewhat amused by his cutting remarks. Jere was aware that the different agencies, training facilities, and departments that dealt with slaves weren’t always on the best terms with one another, each taking turns blaming the others for problems within the system.
“Still, Officer Arnsdale herself has put in a warning about the violent nature of this slave on the behalf of the agency, and we’ll be watching closely. We take altercations with law enforcement quite seriously.”
“Of course,” Jere answered with a smile. “But from what I read, a past charge doesn’t disqualify a slave automatically. When she passes the certification, I’ll have just as much mobility with her as any slave, correct?”
“Of course, Doctor Peters,” the woman said. “Now, why don’t you go ahead and sever the mind connection with the girl. Mr. Andrews, to my left, will be monitoring psychic abilities and connections throughout the certification. He’ll make sure that there is no connection between you and the girl, and will also make sure that you are not utilizing any abilities to influence our perceptions either way.”
“I’m a healer,” Jere mumbled, wondering what he could possibly do to alter anything.
“Not all of our slaveowners are healers,” the woman reminded him. “It’s standard protocol.”
“Right,” Jere said, blushing. He turned slightly to face Isis. “This is it for now, kid. Good luck.”
As he severed the connection, he could see it on Isis’s face, the nervousness, the sense of abandonment. He couldn’t feel it like he could while they were still connected, but he could sense it in the normal way, and he could see her sliding ever so slightly closer to him.
“Doctor Peters, you may take her into the testing room now,” the woman said. “Mr. Clark and I will be giving you psychic instructions from that point.”
Jere nodded, motioning for Isis to follow him. She did, as expected, but she trembled as she trailed behind Jere.
Jere didn’t realize how bothered he would be to not have the connection with Isis. Naturally, he would be uncomfortable if he didn’t have it with Wren, but
Wren was his partner, his other half. But what was Isis? His ward, perhaps, but that didn’t even begin to cover it. She wasn’t his child by any means, but she was his family.
And she was his slave, and that thought allowed him to ignore the trembling, to resist the urge to turn to her and ask her if she was okay, to just take her out and go home. Instead, he walked, making sure to look ahead, assuming and trusting that his slave was following exactly two steps behind him, to the left, head down. He wouldn’t look, but he trusted her.
Still, he felt relief when he heard the door close behind them, and he felt Isis close, technically too close. Too close was still better than too far away. He waited, wishing that the psychic instructions would come soon, before he got overly anxious.
“All right, Doctor Peters, please place her across the room, and then the rest of the instructions will come.” The woman who had spoken with Jere earlier gave directions calmly, like this was something she did every day. It occurred to Jere that she did do this every day with hundreds of slaveowners. A nerve-wracking day in his life was another day on the payroll for her.
Jere started walking again, Isis nearby, leading her across the room to a space where the carpet had clearly been worn down from a number of slaves being forced to stay there in the past.
“Stay,” he ordered softly.
The certification process started quickly, and included many of the elements that Wren had trained them for. As the steps started to fall into place, Jere felt himself relaxing, and Isis appeared at least moderately calmer. It was always hard to tell with her, but she was moving more fluidly, her face taking on a calm, focused look.
The man and the woman alternated orders. Jere could hear both their voices in his head; sometimes one would pick up where the other left off. The initial steps were simple, one-directional tasks that had Isis walking, standing, sitting, spinning, and kneeling. As they became more complicated, she and Jere both rose to the occasion, Isis obeying more quickly and Jere giving orders more firmly. Jere started to feel hopeful that he and Isis could accomplish this.
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