Disclaimer: I'm not USA or whoever else, so I don't claim to own them.
Warnings: Sexual Content; Slavery
Word Count: 2,165 of 7,127
Written For: sinfulslasher's January 2013 prompt
Summary: It was only supposed to last a week, but a fantasy should last a lifetime.
Chapter 03: Neal Caffrey - Slave
This had been the fastest week in Neal's life. At least that he could recall. From the time he was sold as a child, time seemed to slow. Every day of training, every sting from a punishment... it all moved like a snail in his mind. Then came the parade of owners.
His first sale was the day he turned sixteen and was therefore legal for purchase. A trainer had taken him from his cage and he was given a full cleansing treatment. At the end, a plug had been placed in his ass and he could feel the trailing of a tail against the backs of his legs. What followed next was a year as a pet to a woman who paraded him around her circle of friends and didn't pay attention to when his knees ached or he needed food and water.
Once she tired him, there was an endless line of owners and trips to the nearest slave facility. Some of the owners were cruel and others didn't even pay him attention. To all of them, he was just an accessory, something to be worn for show and tossed aside when it wasn't needed.
Now, sixteen years later, he belonged to two people who he could only dream about for all those years. The catch was, he didn't really belong to them. He was on loan for the week and now it was over. They were in the car on the way to the slave center to turn him back in and the process would start all over again. The Burkes would just become a fantasy he could indulge in until the ultimate time came that he was too old and used for resale. He let his mind drift as he forced himself to commit the memories of their ownership to his memory.
The first night when they returned him to their bed with the orders that he was welcome there unless he decided he didn't want to be, Neal had been flummoxed. He had belonged to owners in the past that would cuddle him during that after-sex glow, but they would eventually send him away to whatever accommodations had been arranged for him. The Burkes not only cuddled, but they wanted him to stay.
It had been so easy when they had fallen asleep to slip out of the cuff. When he was ten, he had met an older slave who had been months away from his first sale. Mozzie, as he liked to be called when the trainers weren't around, had shown him many things that Neal would never have thought of on his own. The most important had been how to escape a majority of restraints. Mozzie had said that slaves couldn't trust their owners to know what was best for the slave, especially when it came to proper body circulation.
Other tips from Mozzie had saved Neal many pains over the years from neglectful owners. But the way the Master had looked at Neal as if he were a puzzle he wanted to solve when he asked Neal the next morning about the cuff trick made Neal think twice about using some of his other tricks around the Master. He seemed to be a man that noticed everything.
Of course, the Master wasn't alone in his observations. The second day, the Mistress had asked Neal what he liked to do for fun. When Neal didn't answer right away, he had expected a punishment. Instead, the Mistress moved to the floor next to him and gave him a kiss on the lips. Then she asked him if he had ever done anything for fun.
Unable to lie to her, Neal admitted to drawing on scraps of paper from the trash in various places he'd been over the years. He especially liked to recreate the great paintings that hung in the homes of his owners. However, stubs of broken pencils and almost empty ink pens didn't match the vivid paintings and drawings he was only able to see from afar.
The Mistress had snapped her fingers and shouted to her husband that she needed to run an errand and would be back soon. Neal had been left slightly dazed from her hasty departure and then distracted when the Master had pulled him on to the couch and fondled him as he watched the game.
The Mistress returned ladened with bags that she took to the guest room and then she came and grabbed Neal's hand and told him she had something to show him. When they entered the guest room, Neal found it filled with more art supplies than he could ever imagine. There was an array of trays filled with pencils, black sticks, colored sticks and brushes of various sizes. There were pads of paper ranging from small to large. In one corner near the window was an easel with some stacked, blank white canvases next to it.
When he heard the Master's slight chuckle behind him, Neal immediately dropped to the floor and placed his head down. The Mistress had just spent a large amount of money on wasteful things for a slave they didn't even officially own. He knew that the fighting would start and then he would be the handy punching bag in between them.
Neal couldn't help the flinch that he gave when a hand grasped his shoulder. Then he was being pulled up and wrapped in two sets of arms. When the Mistress asked him what was wrong, Neal just burrowed his head in the Master's strong neck.
"You're going to fight and then punish me, Mistress," he managed to choke out. Keeping silent was one of the negatives that had followed his slave file since the beginning. He was always questioning things and many times he spoke out in ways he knew he shouldn't.
"We aren't fighting and we aren't punishing you," the Master said. "It's the opposite. I think El wants to spoil you."
Once Neal had calmed down enough, he listened as the Mistress told him about all the things she had purchased. She also told him that the store held classes for slaves as well as free people. Just the thought of learning how to properly use all the items in front of him was more than he could imagine. But he squashed the hope building inside of him when he remembered he only had a week and then it would all be gone.
After that, he got to spend a few hours each day alone in the room with art supplies. The Mistress had told him that he didn't need to share his work with them until he was ready. She'd even made the Master promise to not peek.
At first, Neal stuck to what he knew, pencils and paper. Then he started to branch out and try the various pieces of charcoal and conté crayons. The Mistress had even allowed him to watch videos from the internet that showed techniques in how to use them. He saved the paint for his last few days.
Neal found that when he had blank white canvas in front of him and palette of colors in his hand, his mind came to life. He remembered all the fancy paintings he had stared at over the years and longed to paint them to the exact detail. However, when his brush touched the canvas it was the great masters that it spread.
He found himself painting his Master and Mistress as they looked when they curled around each other on the couch. Then Neal added Satchmo chewing on a bone in his bed. But something was still missing from the scene. On a whim, he added himself sitting on the floor in front of the couch with the Master's hand on his shoulder and the Mistress' hand carded through his hair.
When he finished his last night with Burkes, the painting brought tears to his eyes. The painting depicted everything he wanted but would never have. He left it sitting on the easel and shut the door to the guest room behind him.
Neal figured he could harbor a fantasy that after he was returned to the facility, the Burkes would find the painting when they went to throw away his useless things. Maybe it would make them consider buying him for real. But he knew it was just a fantasy.
The Master's strong voice announcing they had arrived at the facility brought Neal back to reality and out of the fantasy of the painting. He followed on the leash through the doors with his head down not wanting to see any sign of the Burkes' eagerness to turn him back in. He'd seen enough of their happiness since they woke that told him all needed to know. They didn't want to keep him and they were happy to bring him back to facility.
When their name was called, a handler took Neal's leash and led him back into facility. Apparently that was it and he wouldn't even get to say goodbye. The handler took him to one of the medical check rooms and a nurse started checking him over for any signs of damage.
"Perfect condition," she muttered to herself. "Guess the new owners will be pleased about that."
Neal inhaled sharply at her words and then looked back down as the nurse eyed him and then snorted.
"Yeah, slave. I'm doing your return check and your out-processing check all in one. Guess they sold you while you were on loan. Lucky you."
Neal didn't feel lucky at all. He wanted to be back with Burkes. He wanted to have time in his room with his art supplies. He wanted to hear Satchmo growl anytime he got close to the dog bed. He wanted to be held forever in his Master and Mistress' arms. He wanted things no slave had the right to want.
Then the handler returned and collected Neal and his paperwork and led him to one of the slave collection rooms near the front. Neal assumed his kneeling position with his back to the door and waited to see what form his new owner would take. At least it had been good sign when he wasn't prepared in any manner. There had been no pet attachments, no specific clothing requirements, no clamps or restraints. Just him and the clothing that Burkes had brought him in with.
Neal heard the door open behind him and stiffened. He repeated over and over to himself that he could do this. He'd been sold before and he could handle it again. He had to drive the Burkes from his mind and focus on the wants and needs of his new owner.
"Oh, hon," he heard the familiar pitch of his Mistress' voice and tried not to choke. "Neal? Did they hurt you during the physical? We told them we didn't need it, but they said it was legal requirement they had to follow."
"Neal?" the Master's voice was right by his ear and he felt the reassuring pressure of the hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? I have my badge with me. The check may have been required, but nothing else was. And since you're legally ours, we have a right to seek damages."
"Yours?" Neal's voice sounded raw to his own ears. "Really yours?"
"Yeah," the Mistress said. "We were just coming down here to finalize the paperwork. Why would you-" When her voice cut off, Neal felt himself being pulled into their arms.
"You thought we were bringing back here to leave you," the Master stated. Then he gave Neal a deep kiss. "We never planned to leave you here, Neal. El got you at the auction with the full intention of purchasing you."
Neal started shaking in their arms. "I'm not worth it, Master. Did you read my slave file? It says I talk too much and don't always do what I'm told."
"We read it and we like you the way you are. Now let's get out of here. Evidently we need to show you what we've been trying to show you all week. We want you in our lives."
Neal felt like he was walking on clouds as his owners took him to the car and then home. When they got inside, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around Satchmo, giving the dog a big hug and getting a slobbery kiss in return.
Then they were heading up the stairs toward the bedroom, but Neal grabbed one of each of their hands and veered them toward the guest room.
"I want to show you something," he said softly as he turned the painting around to show them. "I know it's not a masterpiece, but…" he trailed off as he heard his Mistress' gasp.
"Neal! It's beautiful!"
"I- Slaves aren't supposed to want, but I want this."
"You've got it," his Master said and Neal's fantasy became reality.