Leon and Sir
“Look at his car, it’s so nice!”
Leon stared across the street, staring right into the cold eyes of his former Master. He could hear the whispers of his friends around him, the awe, the envy, the excitement. Unlike them, panic rose in his chest, breath lodged in his lungs. His heart was either swollen, ready to burst or lay dead in the bottom of his chest, because either way it felt like it wasn’t even beating.
Leon come to the Big City with his friends who wanted to spend the night like the rich. The upper class in this society were Elite in every way in this country. They held every position of power, which was inherited in the family. They controlled 75% of the wealth in this country even though there were only about 750 of them in existence. And nobody cared because they freely threw scraps to the poor, and they gobbled up the scraps like geese for corn at the waterways. There was not enough money to stop people from speed walking to get to work on time, but enough spontaneous luxuries were allotted to them through lottery and bargaining that people weren’t quite willing to risk getting no scraps at all by fighting the injustices. In the Grey District, that’s exactly what happened 15 years ago. Tired of being in the shadow of the elite, they protested, went on strike. The Governors didn’t respond or acknowledge them publicly, simply cut off all supply to the city; food, water, power. And they convinced the rest of the regions that they were a drain on society by stopping the lotteries and the Bargain Shops where you could trade freedoms for luxuries. In their grace, they kept the soup kitchens open. Shops in the Grey district shut down, nobody had food or sanitation, and people died. But those in other districts didn’t reach out to help them because they felt deprived enough without their own corn.
So, happy enough in their poverty, the group of friends had in each pocket at least 300 Tickets saved, hard earned cash ready to be spent on booze, drugs and girls. The clubs back in the Lower District were too familiar, to normal, and they knew all the girls there. They’d each hooked up a few times with the girls they were willing to, and who were willing to have them. His crew wanted something different, to experience excitement, especially Rad who’d never been to the city before.
It wasn’t Leon’s scene, and 3 years ago he would have tagged along just to laugh at them and watch them make a fool of themselves. But now, he just went so he could seem normal. Even though the crew was more than happy to welcome him back after he showed back up in the ghetto 6 months ago and kept him around for old times’ sake. They noticed he didn’t smile much anymore, but never said anything. He was changed from his time away. From their point of view, he’d just taken some high risk, and high paying jobs from some rich back alley folks, got caught and did some time. But it was more than that.
He was still staring, eyes locked with the Governor whose lip upturned on the corner in a smirk when he felt a hand on his arm. He jumped, jerking away from Kez like his touch burned. He let out a gasp, his eyes flickering back to the silver eyes still watching him from beside the silver car. He didn’t want to show weakness, but now the man knew Leon was rattled. His knees went soft, and he ran, down the street and to the right, finding safety and solitude in an alleyway a half a block down from the corner. He fell to the ground against the wall, shooting pain in his chest. He could barely breath. The twins, Kyle and Ross, came around the corner first, and stared at him with concern in their dull grey eyes. But their stare and confusion only served to increase his own internal humiliation. Out of sight of those silver eyes now, Leon closed his own, brought his knees to his chest and huddled against the wall. His fingers gripped his hair as he tried to drag a rattling breath into his lungs. He could feel his heart again, and it was hammering in his chest.
Kez was there a moment later and took a knee beside Leon, his other bend at 90 degrees and propped up beside him, his body leaning to shield Leon’s panic from the group. “Go on, guys. We’ll catch up.” He said, nodding his head towards the end of the street where the entrance to the next Casino glowed, waiting for them. A holo of a dancing female was lit outside, between the two main doors.
“Hey, Leon. What’s up? Did you know that guy?” he asked trying to keep the concern from his voice, trying to remain matter of fact. He knew his friend didn’t like to be pitied.
Leon slowly relaxed, finally catching a hold of his breath. He relaxed his grip on his hair. He coughed, dragging in another breath. “N-no… I didn’t.” he lied, avoiding Kez’s gaze.
Kez stared at him for a few long moments before taking a sigh. “You’ll never move past this if you don’t talk about it. We all know you’ve been different. If you were in jail, that’s not the first time. We’ve been locked up before. It’s a fact of living in the District. Most of us get locked up. Unless, of course, you’re a pretty boy like Rad.” They both poker oyna chuckled, and it broke some of the tension. “They get away with everything.”
“Rad is a bitch… You know, he’d fit in well here…” Leon looked down at the holo in front of the Casino. “They like soft boys up here in the City.” Leon went quiet after that, and Kez tilted his head, trying to see through his friends’ eyes, find his meaning in his spirit. They all knew that the rich loved their pets, but it was typically a consensual agreement, just with no exit clause. Pets knew a life of luxury, sacrificing their freedoms and rights to be pampered. Then, once their youth has been spent with their owners, they were sent to an island called Paradigm where there was an exclusive, catered community for those living out their life. Sounded great, but barely anyone was accepted into the pet program. Kez chuckled, replying, “Yeah, maybe we should tell him. He loves being spoiled.”
Leon furrowed his brow and looked down. “Its… not all it’s cracked up to be.”
There was silence between them again, an expression of surprise on Kez’s face. “D-did you apply?” he asked, shock in his voice. He never expected Leon to be the sort to subject himself to that sort of life. He had always seemed like a free spirit, if you could look passed the depressive state he carried with him these days.
His friend looked angry, then, his upper lip twitched into a scowl. But there was shame there too. “I wouldn’t have done it willingly.” He whispered. He stood and peaked over the wall. The street below was empty he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “The rich people, the powerful people in this country… they say it’s all about consent, but they keep prisoners all the same.” He brushed dirt and pebbles from his pants and turned toward the casino. “Let’s get drunk.”
Leon stalked off, and Kez brushed his knees off and walked beside him in silence. Those Pets… He looked at his friend, a strong build, a strong spirit, defiant. He couldn’t imagine that he was made into a pet all these years. But it would explain— “W-wait!” in his shock, he tripped in a small pothole. “Y-you don’t mean it was that man who did that, do you?” he blurted out, grabbing his friend by the arm. He caused them both to stumble a few steps but caught his balance a moment later. By the time his eye’s met Leon’s, his expression was so conflicted and angry that Kez released him, as if he’d been burned. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Leon’s’ eyes bore into Kez, and he reached out, grabbing the front of his jacket in his fist. “This conversation didn’t happen. And it ends. Now.” He snarled, his voice low, menacing. Even people passing by occasionally looked away, not wanting to be involved. “Don’t ever mention Ma… That man again.” He almost slipped. He felt himself burning on the inside. He almost called him Master. “Don’t.” He released him and doubled his pace toward the casino. “I want to get drunk.” He said again.
They found the crew at the corner of a bar, practically piled on top of one another. Rad was perched on a stool, happily holding a shot. The guys banned him from downing it though, until they all had one together. As they approached, they heard Trix openly shouting over the music at the 2 male bartenders, who wore black leather pants with boots, and no shirts. They had only a black gothic harness with straps and buckles gripping their muscular chests, and plain black leather collars around their neck. They were smiling, a look that seemed more amused than customer friendly. They were intentionally ignoring Trix’s profanity laden rant, much to the chagrin of Trix, who slammed his fist down on the countertop.
Distracted, Leon stared at one of the bartenders closest to Trix. He knew him, from his days with… Him. He used to bartend frequently at the Silver Tower, and he was a dancer. His name was Chandre. Leon took a deep breath, feeling his heart race again. He could avoid this situation, or he could use it to his advantage to get a drink. Steeling his jaw, he approached the bar and pushed in a few bodies down from Trix. “Come on Chandre. Pass a few shots this way. Don’t be a dick.”
Hearing a familiar voice, Chandre looked down, his brow raising in surprise at the face he recognized. “Oooh lala. Look what we have here.” Chan walked down the bar, flicking the bar towel over his shoulder and looking Leon up and down, lingering on his naked neck. “Your tongue isn’t as tame as it once was, little caged bird.” He said with a grin. This made Leon turn red, and he chuckled in response.
Leon rolled his eyes, trying to appear unrattled. It was like he was wearing a mask, same person but not who this person knew. “Come on, just give the poor man his drink. Don’t make him climb the bar and beg.” Trix could hear him, and watched the exchange, nodding towards Leon to alert the twins to the conversation at hand. Leon turned red, but it was barely noticeable in the changing light of the bar. He made a mistake talking to this man like he was familiar, at this rate, his friends would become more suspicious. But there was no backing out. canlı poker oyna He was strong, he was free.
Kez, now in on his secret, put two and two together as he slid between Leon and a few jostling bodies. “Don’t worry about it. We can go somewhere else.”
Leon glared at him. “I want to get drunk.” He said, before turning back to Chan behind the bar. “Get my friends and I 6 shots.” He said with more authority, leaning on his forearms.
Chan laughed. “You know, I like you when you got your own balls. Alright. 6 shots. I’ll start a tab. But nothing is free here, because last time I checked you’re not Lord Ragon’s bitch anymore.” His eyebrow raised, he stared pointedly at his neck before he pulled six shot classes from under the glass bar. He turned the bottle upside down and filled them with one smooth motion. As his friends reached over his shoulder to grab the shots he scored, Chandre suddenly grabbed him by the wrist, causing vodka to slosh over his hand, and leaned into his ear. “Lord Ragon is waiting for you, you know. His pets always come back.” He grinned and released him. Over the music, he shouted, “See you around, Little Caged Bird.”
The crowd thinned slightly, and his boys followed him as he moved away from the bar. Kyle… or maybe it was Ross, approached him, “what did he say about Ragon Silver?” he shouted, just as the music broke. Kez punched him hard in the shoulder and nodded hard toward a circular booth towards the back of the club. Leon grabbed the arm of a scantily clad waitress, told her he had a tab and to keep some rounds coming to the booth they chose, and turned a dial on his wrist band. He tapped his wrist to hers, giving her a 20-credit tip.
In the booth, they each shared a shot, and Leon downed the extra. Rad was looking at him with awe. “Did he say you knew Lord Ragon?” he asked, leaning over Kez, eager for a response. Kez slapped him across the back of his head like an errant child, and he backed off a bit. Leon looked down in his lap, twirling the empty wine glass in his fingers. “Yeah. I knew him.” He said, figuring it was too late to hide it now.
“So, is that where you’ve been? Living the good life? You pissed off all the time ’cause you have to struggle now, like all us nobodies?” Despite Kez’s glare, Rad didn’t stop talking. And the other guys looked over at him curiously. Trix had tried everything to get the bartenders attention, but Leon already knew him. It made them curious.
Leon debated on how he should respond. If he forced them to drop it, they’d still talk about it behind his back, and make up theories of their own. If he told them the truth, that he’d been a sexually deviant slave for 3 years, they would pity him. “Heh, yeah that’s right.” He said back, raising his brow. A lie would make them back off. “I made out like a bandit, a hot servant gave me a bath every morning, and my pillow alone cost for than your fuckin house, and I had a new girl to fuck every day of the week.” He grabbed another shot off a passing girl’s tray, and she turned to protest but he already downed it. “I came back ’cause I missed your dumb fuckin’ asses.”
Kez looked at him, assuming this was at least twisted to make it seem cool. The other guys laughed, and yelled, “Right on!”. Everyone dreamed of having a chance at the luxury life of an elite that they didn’t connect this story with the earlier panic attack enough to call bullshit.
The waitress Leon tipped earlier returned with several more rounds of shots over the next hour, and the guys sat around the table, talking and laughing and enjoying the sweaty bodies gyrating on the dance floor across the club. Once they were wasted enough to make a difference, they stumbled from their seats and joined the masses, the beat bouncing with them, and the intoxication making their vision wave. Mist sprayed to keep people cool and dancing, blacklights shined up from under the acrylic dance floor, and laser lights flashed from above. Leon became well and lost in the sea of bodies, his worries faded, and the speakers made his ears numb.
Out of breath, he shook the sweat out of his eyes and swayed towards the bar, in need of a glass of water. Kez watched him go. Leon hated that his friend pitied him now. He tried not to show it, and Leon appreciated that, but it was still there in the way he watched him more than usual. He approached the bar, and leaned over, looking down to where Chandre was rearranging freshly cleaned glasses the waitress brought from the back. “Yo. I need water.” He said, saying nothing of Chandre’s last comments, even though they bubbled back up in his mind. His own black hair stuck to his forehead, slicked with sweat, framing his golden-brown irises.
Chandre looked up and scowled. “You again.” He said. “One of my girls said you assaulted her.” He said, flipping a glass and filling it with water from the tap under the bar. “Flavor shot? Lemon? Lime?” Leon shook his head, and Chandre passed him the glass, already dripping with condensation.
“You’ll be very familiar with what those taste like. I seem to remember you being very eager for a nice large sack on your face.” He taunted, laughing.
Leon scowled. “The alternative was worse. You know that. Doesn’t count if its coerced. I don’t do that shit anymore.”
“Have you done anyone? I know they kept you Pets chastised, so they could make you eager. But since you’ve been free, you had any good pussy? Or do you think about your time with them too much for that to interest you?”
Leon looked down at his glass and took another gulp, unwilling to answer. The truth is, Chandre was right. He’s watched Leon perform for them enough to know how well they trained their pets. And even now… He’s taken girls home, but never gotten far. His Master wasn’t there to drive his libido or allow him release, and so no matter how much he wanted to bring himself release inside of a pretty girl, he never could bring himself to mount that horse. Or girl. He would get them off by giving them a well-trained oral release, out of guilt usually, send them on their way and then lay in the dark with a raging hardon until he fell asleep. And his dreams would be filled with Lord Argon and his sultry voice demeaning him for lack of self-respect. Even though he was released, he wasn’t free, not sexually anyway.
“I see it in your eyes. You miss their control. Its addicting, isn’t it? Too bad… you know he would pick you up if you called him and begged for him to have you back, right?”
“Yeah. And then I’d suffer punishment for demanding to leave in the first place.”
“The fact that he even let you leave in the first place was unheard of. It confused a lot of people. A lot of pets were punished after you left because they wouldn’t stop talking about you. Word was, the Masters were upset at Lord Argon for releasing you because it disrupted the world order.”
Leon chewed the inside of his cheek, pulling skin. His eyes wandered over the crowd on the dance floor. “Never thought I’d be making waves.” He said. He felt a stirring in his groin thinking about what it would be like if he did go back. He clenched his teeth, accidentally biting his inner cheek. It wasn’t a desire, so why was he thinking about it?
Lost in thought, he felt it before he realized it. A slight hush, even the music seemed to grow dimmer. Kez, who was walking over to see why Leon was taking so long froze, and his eyes widened. The air seemed to go still as people stopped walking and talking to stare.
Leon gripped his glass and slid quickly off the stool, stumbling to spin around defensively. A cool hand shot out, grabbing him around the wrist, causing the glass to slip from his hand and simply bounce on the red carpet, half a glass of water soaking into the floor. “Leon…” said the voice, that sultry, soft voice that haunted his dreams. “Fancy seeing you here. I see you’ve found an old friend.”
Leon felt as if he was suspended, not feeling a solid surface under him. The lights were suddenly too bright as he looked up into those silver eyes, those thin, smirking lips, the long silver hair that was currently tied behind his head. He wore a pressed black suit with a silver tie. He glanced away for a moment, looking over at Chandre. “Y—you c-called him…” he whispered, with no valid reason to feel betrayed, he still did.
“I did not need his alert to tell me you were in the city. Do you not remember, we saw each other just a few hours ago? I was busy, but if I wanted to, I could have found you on my own. It was your willingness to talk to a familiar face that made me want to say hello. I was… curious.” He spoke as if Leon was a passing interest, as if he hadn’t stolen 3 years of his life and known him so intimately. “Look at me, Leon.”
Leon felt his eyes move in response to his command entirely on their own as they were trained to do. But he could do nothing else. He felt Lord Argons arm wrap around his waist, pulling his body against his own. His arm remained awkwardly outstretched in Argons grip, as if they were dancing, and his nose brushed the collar of his suit just below the height of his shoulder. His groin pressed against Lord Argons. A feeling of absolute safety washed over him, something he hadn’t felt since he left. Really, it was a feeling he never did recognize while he was with him, either. His body relaxed on his own, even though his breath and mind still raced. He began to let the weight of his head rest on his collar.
Leon heard a shout that sounded so very distant, but he recognized his name. It was shouted again, but louder this time, closer. Activity had resumed in the club, though eyes seemed to still flicker towards the two men standing in an embrace. Kez broke through the crowd and reached out to grab Leon by the same wrist held by Argon, still outstretched. Leon, without breaking Argons grip, put his hand out in a STOP position, and leveled It with Kez’s chest. Kez collided with his outstretched palm, gripping Leon’s forearm just above Argons grip. “Leon…” he said, softer this time, looking on, confused. “Y-you said you never wanted this. Come back with me, we’ll get the guys and leave.” He said, waiting for Leon to break out of whatever hold this silver haired had on him.