Note: For complete heading info, please refer to Chapter 01.
Neal was helpless against the cock pressing into his mouth. He was also helpless against the one pounding his ass. He hated being helpless and after ten years with Peter and Elizabeth his mind allowed him to know he was being raped.
As a slave, he was taught from an early age that sex would be his purpose in life. He was supposed to be pleasing and do whatever his owner desired. With his first owners, it was easy. He had already been trained well and he had developed a love for sex in various forms. Although, it had been pleasing to learn that his owners’ tastes weren't too far from his own needs. The only thing missing with them and the friends they loaned him to had been love.
Then he'd found love with Peter and Elizabeth. They hadn't even taken him to their bed at first. About four months into his time at their house, he awoke in the middle of the night to a nightmare that he couldn't quite remember. Panic had sent him unthinkingly into their bedroom. He had enough sense not to wake them, but he was too scared from the remnants of the nightmare to return to his dark and lonely bedroom. He'd curled on the floor next to Peter's side of the bed and drifted back to sleep.
It was Peter's foot that found him an hour later when the man had gotten up to take a leak. Neal had assumed a proper kneeling position for a slave expecting punishment while Peter had demanded to know what Neal was doing on the floor. Elizabeth had been the voice of reason calming Peter down and coaxing Neal into telling them what was wrong.
That night, Neal had been pulled into the bed between them, both holding him tight. When he finally woke with a hard on pressing against Peter's ass, he'd been mortified. Especially when Elizabeth's hand trailed down his side and asked him how long it had been. He hastily admitted that he hadn't masturbated without their permission, not wanting her to think he'd been doing anything more than keeping himself ready for them.
Elizabeth had apologized and blamed herself because she knew that Peter wouldn't even realize something like that. She'd given him blanket permission to take care of himself and then told him that when he was ready, they could talk about more.
Neal hadn't really understood what she meant at the time, but a month later he found himself wishing that he could have what they had together. Most of all, he loved it when either of them held him on the couch or gave him light kisses as they were going and coming.
Once he met and befriended Mozzie, he'd received his answer. Mozzie had told him that the Suit, as he liked to call Peter, was lusting after him just as much as Elizabeth was. Neal had told him that they couldn't be because all they had to do was use him since he was theirs. It was then that Mozzie had enlightened him on how the world worked outside of slavery. How free people had to give and receive permission in a mutual show of affection before achieving coital bliss.
When Neal had said that the rules of a free person didn't apply to him, Mozzie had just laughed. According to Mozzie, Peter and Elizabeth were a step away from being abolitionists, which meant that Neal would always have a choice with them. It had taken Neal another few weeks to work up the courage to approach his owners about the idea.
Peter had been hesitant at first, talking about power imbalances and how Neal wasn't an object. As always, Elizabeth had stepped up and dragged them both to the bedroom and said they'd figure it out as they went. It had worked and ten years later, Neal knew the difference between right and wrong when it came to sex.
He gagged as the invading cock hit the back of his throat and stayed for a few moments. He wanted to fling his hands out to protect himself, but they were cuffed to the legs of the horse he was currently strapped to. He also couldn't kick back at the man behind him because his legs were strapped down as well, while the ring in his mouth kept him from biting down on the offending dick.
He could hear his new Master's voice in the background as he reminded his goons not to rough him up before the big show. Apparently, it was the night that James Bennett was going to be brought to justice for what he had done to the man. And justice meant that Neal was going to be tortured.
His new Master, Mr. Adler as his goons called him, had delighted in telling Neal all the details of the night he had planned for the last few years. He'd done so while he either fucked or shocked Neal. He'd told Neal he was going easy because he wanted Neal to look fresh for the big night. It was hard to believe the man when his whole body ached, but by the time Saturday had arrived, he looked relatively unscathed save for a scattering bruises across his body.
"Your men didn't have to be so forceful Mr. Adler," a man said with a smooth tone.
Neal was startled at the sound of a new voice in the room, but in his current position, there was nothing he could do to protect the last threads of his dignity.
"When I've been lied to and stolen from, Mr. Phelps, you'll find that I take every precaution needed to ensure justice is served. Have a seat."
Adler's men shoved Phelps into a chair and stood by in case he tried to leave. Then Adler walked over and grabbed Neal's hair tightly in his fist.
"Why don't you finish up, boys," he ordered the men fucking Neal. "Then I can get started on the floor show that I'm sure Mr. Phelps is going to enjoy."
Neal's hair was released and the men started to pound harder into his body. He could barely focus on the conversation occurring in the room.
"Didn't think you liked boys," Phelps said. "You had that perky little brunette."
"Kate," Adler provided and Neal could hear the clicking of the heels she always wore as she made her way toward Phelps. "She's still here and apparently you didn't do enough research when you stole from me. I may like Kate here, but I've always enjoyed my boys in a more private setting. Kate, darling, why don't you provide Mr. Phelps with a little entertainment while he waits."
Neal couldn't see what was happening as he was trying not to choke on the come filling his mouth and throat. But thankfully, the cocks were pulled from his body and he had a moment to catch his breath. The moment was short lived however as the men unstrapped him and manhandled him to a different position.
Neal found himself stretched from chains hanging from the ceiling. There was a bar between his wrists, holding them as wide as possible. Another bar between his ankles left him spread-eagle. His position in the room left him face to face with Phelps who was sitting with his eyes closed as Kate gave him a blowjob.
"That's enough, Kate," Adler's voice put a stop to Kate's work and soon Phelps was looking straight at Neal. Seeing eyes as blue as his own caused Neal's heart to plummet as he realized that Adler had told him the truth about the man in front of him being his father. Sam Phelps was James Bennett, his father. Neal felt tears stinging his eyes.
"Now Mr. Phelps, I want to tell you a little story. Since a child, I've been fascinated by research. If I didn't know about something, I dug until I figured it out for myself. So after you took my money, I wanted to figure you out. Most would think it was because I wanted my money back. The truth is, I could care less about the money. It was the man that took it that fascinated me. Do you know what I found when I started digging?"
Neal watched as Phelps tried to keep his face expressionless, but the man failed. Most would find it hard to see hidden worry on the man, but Neal could see it in his eyes that so mirrored his own.
"Sam Phelps existed, but you are a far cry from the retired cop living in Florida the records talk about," at the flicker on Phelps' face, Adler smiled widely. "The real Sam Phelps had a lot to say about you during our discussion."
"What did you do to him?" Phelps spat out, but when he started to stand, the thugs guarding him pushed him back into the chair. They added cuffs to Phelps' wrists, keeping him secured to the chair.
"You didn't think he died of that heart attack on his own did you? Once he gave up your name, I had no more use for him. So that brings the story back to you, Mr. James Bennett."
"If you think knowing my name is going to hold anything over me, you're mistaken. There's nothing in my past that will work against me."
Adler laughed and Neal felt his heart plummet. What little hope he had for his father caring about him was fading as the man talked.
"At first, I thought about tracking down your wife. Witness protection is a tricky beast to navigate, but not impossible if you have the right connections. Then I learned the key part of your past that I could use against you. Do you know what happened to your son, James?"
"If you didn't navigate Witness Protection, then it's unlikely that you know where he is."
"It's a shame that you didn't pay more attention when your wife took the deal for protection. Children within a certain age range don't qualify for protection. Of course your wife was told some nonsense about how he'd be placed in an orphanage, but that isn't really how it works. You see, the government makes a nice little profit off of selling the children they don't protect. It actually helps fund the ones they do protect, as well as lining a few pockets along the way."
"Sell?" Phelps questioned.
"Yes," Adler said as placed his hand in Neal's hair and forced his head back. "While your wife was given a new life as a single woman, your son, Neal, was sold to a slave center at three years old. Navigating the slave registry is a much easier pursuit. Of course, acquiring ownership of Neal wasn't as easy since his previous owners didn't like the idea of selling him. Although, after a week with him, I'm starting to see why they kept him."
"Neal? That's my son? A slave?"
"All grown up. Of course he's getting a little too old to be a good slave. I'll probably keep him for a bit before disposing of him. But what I really want to do is watch you as I take my enjoyment out of him. I want to hear him beg you to save him. I want you to watch as I take from you like you took from me."
Neal tried to lock eyes with the man to see if there was any compassion in his eyes, but he turned away. As soon as he did, Neal felt a slap land across his face.
"Watch James. Your son wants to put on a show for you so you'll see everything he's learned to be over the years."
Then Adler started. First, it was a flogger that thudded across his back and ass. Next came a cane that left trails of fire everywhere it struck him. Last was the whip. Neal wasn't even aware of himself at this point. He was just floating through the pain.
At some point, Kate had been ordered to suck him and he was horrified to find himself hard. It was the downside of his extensive training, something that even Peter and Elizabeth hadn't been able to break him of.
Neal was vaguely aware that things had stopped hitting his body and tried to focus on what Adler was staying.
"Before I fuck your boy, James, I want to make sure you'll always know that he belongs to me until I decide to put him down."
Neal's focus returned abruptly when he saw the glowing brand that Adler held in front of him. He couldn't breath as the man walked around him and for the first time since the ordeal had started, Neal found himself begging.
"No! Please don't let him! Dad!!!"
But his cries were to no avail as Neal felt the hot press of the brand against his ass. He cried out until he couldn't anymore. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the shouting from the doorway and someone yelling FBI.