A Good Servant Ch. 12

A rough hand fondled his ass. "Put me on your list, honey," the man whispered and Dion shuddered. "The boss's office is at the end of the hall, to the right. He'll be more than happy to see you."

Dion let out a breath, noticing the club to be empty at that hour. He knocked softly on the door, but no one answered. Eventually, he started to knock louder and louder, until someone yelled at him to come in.

He looked at the disheveled man behind the desk, and could barely refrain pursing his lips in disgust. But who was he to judge?

"I would like to work here," he offered an explanation and the man's expression turned from annoyance to delight.

"Take off your clothes, then," he said with a sneer, and Dion let the bag fall on the floor, and undressed with efficient, short moves.

The man lay back and looked appreciatively at Dion up and down.

"I think you'll be our next sensation, sweetie," the man nodded. "Now, how about coming over here on your knees and showing me a bit of gratitude?"

Dion stared him in the eyes. He was not going to be a victim anymore. "I heard I am only supposed to strip, and nothing else," he said calmly, and the man's smile froze on his lips. "And I heard no one can force me to do something I do not want."

The man frowned and then laughed, throwing his head back. Yet Dion knew he played his card right this time.

"Oh, cutie, you really think that, don't you? Well, you're gorgeous, so I won't let you run to the competition. But I'll give you a bit of time; you'll adjust. Soon you will be like anyone else. Plus, nobody likes a whore who doesn't put out. How long are you going to resist here with no friends?"

You have no idea, Dion thought and remained standing straight, looking the man square in the eyes. The other laughed again.

"I have to give it to you. You're a bit fiery, like your hair, aren't you? I bet they'll be raining credits on your ass tonight. I'll show you to your room. Get enough rest, you'll need it."

~A Good Servant~

The grey ghosts remained unmoved as Lord Lucas spoke.

"Servants are replaceable," the Head Trainer spoke. "Why is this one so important?"

"I thought Masters were respected in Drena," Lucas spoke sharply. "My property," he emphasized the word, "was treated as he didn't belong to one of the most powerful Rulers in the city. It is an insult, and I demand proper retribution."

"Maybe Lord Arnaud should offer one of his servants in return? Maybe even the slave in question?"

Lord Arnaud moved to protest, but Lucas intervened again.

"I do not want that despicable thing. I want the rabid dog to be put to sleep!" he could no longer contain his anger in.

His voice echoed against the tall ceiling. It seemed like for one second, everyone in the room forgot how to breathe. Eventually, Lord Arnaud gathered his wits to speak.

"I know Antoine can be difficult at times. But slaves are more valuable than servants. And Lord Lucas's demand is simply ludicrous. It's not like the servant was demised. He was just used," he pursed his lips in slight disgust.

"And beaten and branded," Lucas hissed. "Trainers, you do realize this Antoine is a menace to everyone with his mad dog behavior. It is in our society's best interest if such elements were not kept around, to cause distress and damage."

"Your demand is impossible to satisfy, Lord Lucas," the Head Trainer spoke again. "If you do not wish for Lord Arnaud to replace the damaged servant, there is nothing we can do. You should consider, nonetheless, getting another servant. The current one will take a long time to recover. We will take good care of him."

"No, he will recover at my house. I hope you are not imposing on me to simply abandon what belongs to me," Lucas's lips almost trembled as he spoke.

"This wish is granted," the Head Trainer rose, signaling that the meeting was over.

~A Good Servant~

Dion sat on the narrow bed, his fingers linked together, staring at the ceiling, contemplating his life and what it had become. Could he survive in this harsh place that didn't seem to agree with him? He had never been a whore on his own accord. It had always been forced; now he was basically choosing a line of work that was telling him he was going to be exactly that: a whore. Yet, in a twisted, unnatural way, it seemed the only possibility, since the foreman had been clear about not allowing him to tease the other guys at work, without choosing one. He had chosen one, and it had been a mistake.

No, Dion pondered. John had not been a mistake. He had not been a bad choice. But Dion could not stand looking into the man's deep black eyes and see nothing but pity or disgust there. That was something he really did not want to live with. And it had been right to choose so, if he wanted what was best for John. After all, the man had the right to be free and go after another. Being dragged in a relationship he did not want, or preferring to wander the night clubs in search of release, was not something Dion wanted to picture for John.

The door opened and Dion rose to see who the intruder was.

"I'll be damned ..." Andreas placed his hands on his hips while looking down at Dion.

In natural light, Andreas looked a bit different and, unfortunately for him, it wasn't exactly a flattering look. There was a bit of bitterness hanging from the corners of his beautiful lips, and the large blue eyes were marred by dark circles. Dion could bet he looked older than his actual age.

The redhead chose to say nothing. He had no unpaid dues to John's ex.

"Did John kick you out? Or did you leave?" Andreas tried to fake indifference, while climbing on his own bed, placed on the opposite wall.

"None of your business," Dion said icily.

It was against his nature to be impolite to others, but he was in no mood for idle conversation, especially about such a delicate subject.

"Oh, kitty has claws ..." Andreas commented and yawned. "Get some sleep," he turned to one side while embracing his pillow. "They will be all over you tonight. Just don't touch my regulars and I'll be out of your hair," the blond commented.

"I won't touch anyone," Dion murmured.

"No shit. Boss told me you acted almighty and shit while asking him for a job. Of course, the pervert won't turn down a piece of ass, regardless. Take this little advice from me, sugar queen; give in fast, or you won't last long."

The threat was left hanging in the air. It made Dion feel restless, all of a sudden. The foreman had been clear about any crimes being punished severely, but what if ...? He shuddered. He was going to be cautious. There were no fairytales, and even in Drena, where everything looked beautiful, there was nothing but vanity and ugliness beneath. At least here no one was pretending to be something he was not.

~A Good Servant~

"You're next," Andreas pushed by him, throwing him a sideway glance.

The applauses that had praised Andreas for his performance just earlier were dying out. Dion took a deep breath. If he was just going to see about the routine Andreas had showed him, without hiding his annoyance, just earlier, and think of nothing, he was going to be fine.

He heard the commentator's voice introducing him like through a haze and stepped on the stage. For some reason, the music wasn't starting yet, and he could hear the sound of his heels against the glossy floor too clearly.

He was wearing high leather boots that were going up to mid thigh, and a glitzy thong he was certain it wasn't covering much. There was certainly something they had lied to him about it. This wasn't stripping; he was already as good as naked. He hoped at least the part about no one touching him was real.

For several moments, during which Dion stood there, all the lights on him, almost blinding him, there was silence. Then someone whistled and suddenly catcalls could be heard from everywhere. To his relief, the music started playing and he began moving his hips slowly.

It wasn't hard at all, he mused, as he kneeled on the stage and began undulating to the music, making sure everyone was getting an eyeful. He stretched lazily, carding his long fingers through his hair, then letting them roam over his naked body. He knew that the climax of his show was to take off the boots and then the thong, but he was not there yet.

The music was suddenly cut and he blinked, confused. He rose, unsure of what that was supposed to mean. The commentator appeared on the stage next to him again. He grabbed Dion's waist and started speaking into his mike.

"Should we give Dion a warm welcome party to Venusville?" he asked the audience.

Dion froze. He knew what a welcome party meant, at least inside Drena.

The crowd roared. The commentator waited for the noise to die out, then continued.

"Then place your bets, gents. Whoever wins, gets a private show from our beautiful redhead here, and the privilege to see him completely naked before anyone else. And, of course, if you are smooth enough," the man sneered, "you may convince lovely Dion here to offer you something on top of everything for your effort."

Dion closed his eyes. He had to endure this. It was, after all, part of what he had signed for. Suddenly, he sensed a change in the ruckus dominating the room. When he opened his eyes, he saw John jumping on the stage and walking towards him with a terrifying look in his eyes. He was grabbed forcefully and shaken by strong hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here, Dion?" John said through his teeth.

"Hey, hey," the commentator tried to push him back. "Place your bet like everyone else if you want to cop a feel, man!"

John ignored him, too focused on searching Dion's eyes with his.

"Answer me," he said menacingly.

Dion tried to shake him off. "I'm doing the only thing I'm good at."

"You're mine," John said ferociously. "And I am telling you you're not good at this. You're good with me. Come home now," he took Dion by the hand and tried to drag him along.

Apparently, John's act had quickly awakened the bouncer at the door from his stupor, and the giant was now trying to get through the crowd to settle the situation happening on stage.

"John," the bouncer called. "Take a hike, man. He chose to come here to work."

"He is my partner," John said through his teeth, not backing down and dragging Dion closer to him, almost making him stumble. "I am not letting anyone touch him!"

There was yelling from all sides and Dion felt fear growing inside him. John wasn't realizing he was putting himself in danger! He tried to disentangle his hand from John's, but the man's grip was hard as steel.

"What is going on?"

Even the owner of the place had been summoned, Dion noticed.

"John here doesn't understand his sweetheart doesn't want him and wants to strip for cash instead," the commentator explained.

"Get him out of here," the boss demanded in a high pitched voice.

The bouncer moved to separate John from Dion, but the dark tall man didn't budge.

"If anyone touches my lover, he'll have to go through me," John said menacingly and pushed Dion just slightly back so he could assume a fighting stance.

The bouncer moved to hit him, but, for his height, John proved to be quite easy on his feet, as he dodged the man's heavy punch with ease. Without waiting for another opportunity, John hit the giant square in the face, making him grab his nose while screaming. Blood started pouring through his fingers, and the bouncer took the hands from his face and stared at his own blood like he could not believe it. He launched as a mad man at John and this time he managed to hit the other. The element of surprise was soon gone, though, and the worker easily dodged again and executed the bouncer with a short elbow between his shoulder blades.

The entire room felt like caught on fire. Dion was shaking, he could not understand a word he was hearing. The commentator grabbed his arm and whispered in his ear.

"Get your demented boyfriend and get out of here," he hissed and pushed Dion towards John.

Behind the commentator, the club owner tried to maintain some resemblance of control:

"Yeah, get the fuck out of here, both of you! And never come back or I'll take this higher! I'll talk to your foreman, John, don't you think I won't! And take your fucking tramp with you!"

John turned with murder in his eyes. Dion hurried by his side and pushed him to move.

"Let's go, please, John," he said quickly. The bouncer showed signs that he was going to get up from the floor, and Dion didn't want to see another round in the boxing match between the guy and John.

Dark eyes stared into his angrily. He didn't cower though; anything John had to say, he was going to say it and Dion was going to listen. Right now, all that mattered was for both of them to get out of the club unscathed.

"Hey, John, why don't you let your boyfriend show us the goods?" one man from the audience spoke loudly and everyone laughed.

"Yeah, man, he wants to, what the hell?" another commented.

"He has no idea what he wants," John said loud and clear, without taking his eyes off Dion.

"Yeah, be the man," another voice encouraged him then.

John grabbed Dion's waist and for a second, the redhead thought the man was going to kiss him right there in front of everyone. Instead, he was lifted almost effortlessly off the floor and thrown over a taut shoulder. The room turned upside down in a split second.

He could hear everyone laughing and pointing fingers at them from all directions. He tried to move and punched John's back with all his might, yelling at him to put him down. John seemed to have lost his sense of hearing all of a sudden, as he ignored him, while walking in long strides towards the door. Apparently, everyone was cheering John, from what he could gather from all the yelling.

~A Good Servant~

At some point, he gave up on trying to get John to release him from his hold. The man seemed both deaf and immune to his punching and shouting and was continuing his walk towards his house, without making as much as a sound.

Only when they were inside, Dion was unceremoniously dropped on the sofa. He felt overly conscious about his state of undress. The reproach in John's eyes was clear. Embarrassed, he reached for the blanket to cover himself. A strong hand stopped him.

"No," John almost growled.

Dion gulped. Was John going to hit him?

"Stay like this. Show me. I earned your fucking private show," John spoke slowly.

The redhead could swear the air in the room was vibrating with the man's hurt.

"You already saw me. You know how I look," Dion spoke, while grabbing his knees with his palms. The leather felt cheap beneath his fingers.

John shook his head slowly. "You said this is the only thing you're good at. Show me," he demanded again. "Show me how you were planning to reward the guy who was going to place the highest bet on your ass tonight."

"I was only going to undress, that's all," Dion said in his defense.

"Really?" John sneered. "And after that? A blow job? Letting him have you? How? On your fours, you on top, eagle spread ... Tell me, enlighten me," he pressed.

He was not moving. He was standing there, towering over Dion, with that expression of deep hurt on his face that was making the redhead wanting nothing but to take John in his arms and tell him to stop saying those horrible things.

He shook his head and buried his face into his hands. "I wasn't going to ..."

"Yes, you were," John spoke again bitterly. "But I'm not letting you. I'm not letting you become Andreas. I don't care if you hate me for taking you away from there. You'll stay here, and I will take care of you, whether you like it or not. I don't know what fucked up games you guys like playing up there, in Drena. Here, things are simple. You are mine. From the moment you grabbed my arm and told the guys at work you chose me, you are mine. And nothing is going to change."

Dion was staring at John wide eyed. That was one hell of a confession. He rose slowly and carded his fingers through his hair. He smiled and looked John in the eyes.

"What are you doing?" John demanded.

"I am showing you," Dion said simply.

John averted his eyes. "Don't take everything literally. I don't want you to behave like a slut and show me what you would have done for money. I don't have that much money, anyway."

Dion came closer and grabbed John's shirt, slowly opening it button by button. He reached inside and touched the man's hairy chest, caressing it slowly. The man didn't move away. His breath just became raspier.

"I am not showing you that. I am showing you what I would like to do with you and no one else."

He leaned onto John's hard body and used his both hands to struggle with the belt. He took the man's erect cock from his pants and started stroking it.

"Would you fuck me John?" he slowly raised his beautiful amber eyes to look into John's black ones. "I want you to fuck me."

He barely refrained a gasp, as impatient fingers pulled at the small thong and made the string snap. He was pushed on the floor, his legs parted, with the man on top of him. John buried his head in the crook of Dion's neck, groaning. Dion wet two fingers in his mouth and used them to lubricate himself. John's cock was hovering near his entrance, and he could hear the man now whimpering softly.

"It's ok now," he encouraged him, and John pushed inside, making him escape a small short scream.

John stopped, but Dion used his legs to grab the man's midsection with them and keep him there. "No, John. I said I want you to fuck me," he said bravely and this time the man moved, although a bit uneasy, burying himself little by little in Dion's body.

The redhead grabbed his partner's head in his hands and kissed him. John's mouth was hot on his, and their tongues started the dance they knew from past encounters only to now discover something new that both of them had craved for so long.

John felt huge inside him, to the point Dion was afraid he could just break, but the way the man moved was compensating for the discomfort. There was something there, deep inside him, that resonated with John's slow thrusts like it had never happened before with anyone else. He freed his mouth so he could moan freely.

"How is it, baby? Is it good?" John said almost pleading, and Dion realized the man was barely restraining himself from fucking him into the carpet.

"Fuck me harder," he urged his lover and John's satisfied groan as he sped the rhythm confirmed his suspicion.

He felt his pleasure growing, the small bud inside his ass sending short bursts of pleasure through his spine, into his brain. It was the second time it felt so great to come, the second time with John, and the second time in his entire life. John praised him clumsily and poured himself fully into Dion's body.

As he withdrew, Dion felt a bit deserted. He wanted to hold John close some more. The man moved and Dion's anxiety grew. Maybe that was all what John wanted from him.

But the man bent and grabbed him by his back and legs and lifted him in his arms.

"What are you doing?" Dion mumbled.

"I am taking you to bed, love," John whispered, and kissed his damp forehead. "I hope you don't intend to have us sleep in the floor."

Dion nestled his head in John's shoulder. Never in his life, had he felt so protected.

*****

Author's Note:

This was really difficult to write and I really hope none of you are mad with me for having Cory suffer. It is important for the story, as you will see in the following chapter. There was more this time about John and Dion, and we left Ayn and Xav enjoy themselves on their own this time around. I wrote John and Dion's part first and it was satisfying, but after the episode with Cory, I just felt too emotionally wasted to turn to happy thoughts again. I hope John and Dion's story compensates for the ugly part.