Fic: The Devil You Know (14/25)
Feb. 6th, 2014 08:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
citrinesunsetTitle: The Devil You Know
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairing: Neal/Peter, Peter/Elizabeth/Neal, Neal/Elizabeth, Peter/Elizabeth, references to Neal/Kate
Rating: Explicit
Contains: Non-con, dub-con, institutionalized slavery, spanking, humiliation, dark!Peter, dark!Elizabeth, sex, rimming
Word count: 6650 this part. About 122k total.
Summary: After being convicted of bond forgery, Neal is sentenced to four years of slavery. But he isn't prepared to be purchased by Peter Burke. Or for what Peter has in store for him.
Notes: See Chapter 1 for details.
A few days later, Elizabeth took him to the mall for a pair of black dress shoes.
He was pleased, and a little surprised, by how quickly things were moving. He hadn't been sure if she was serious about enlisting his help at work or if it was just an idea. An idea Peter might shoot down.
She further surprised him by letting him get a pair of dress pants, as well.
"I'd like to start taking you with me to work sometimes," she said. "Not just for events. You can be like an assistant."
Neal liked the sound of that. He thumbed through the racks, looking for a nice pair of pants in his size. Elizabeth had left the leash in the car, and seemed content to stand back and let him make his own selections with minimal guidance.
"Of course, it won't be every day. Peter and I want you to focus on us and the house, and we don't want to overwhelm you. But we've decided we're both going to use you at work more."
That meant he would be going back to the FBI offices, as well. Or at least helping Peter out from home. Neal welcomed it. It would keep him from getting bored, and maybe now they would see him as more than an expensive sex toy. And being Elizabeth's assistant was a great idea. Neal didn't have a problem serving at parties, but helping plan them was much more appealing.
Looking up, he said, "If I'm going to work, you know what would look good? A tie."
Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic smile. "Don't you think it'd be a little hard to wear a tie with your collar?"
Neal's face fell. She had a point. He'd worn his collar long enough that sometimes he managed to forget about it.
Seeing his expression, Elizabeth's brow furrowed and she said, "Well, maybe we can get you one next time, and you can give it a try."
A half hour later, they'd purchased a pair of pants and were making their way out of the store. As they made their way toward the entrance of the mall, Elizabeth stepped into a few other stores to browse, and Neal obediently followed.
"Just one more stop," Elizabeth told him.
He expected it to be another clothing store, but then he saw that she was leading him into Laurent's Slave Boutique.
Laurent's Slave Boutique was like the supply store Peter had taken him to—except classier and more expensive. That didn't stop Neal from tensing at the sight of the leashes and cages in the display window.
As they stepped inside, Elizabeth put a hand on his arm and said, "Why don't you take a look around? I'll just be a few minutes."
Neal wasn't stupid. He was going to keep an eye on Elizabeth. He pretended to look around and stopped by a shelf of books. He found one titled 100 Ways to Please Your Owner: A Guide for Slaves and opened it. Keeping his head down, he raised his eyes and watched as Elizabeth went up to the counter.
"Hi," she said, "I had an order delivered to the store. My last name is Burke."
The woman behind the counter crouched down and came up a moment later with a cardboard box.
"Here it is. Will that be all?"
"If you don't mind, I'm just going to take a look at your books."
"No problem. I'll check you out whenever you're ready."
Neal put the book he was pretending to look at back on the shelf. He eyed the package sitting on the counter. It wasn't very big. What could Elizabeth have ordered?
Elizabeth started to browse the books, and Neal felt safe to take a look around the store. There were some restraints, mostly leather cuffs, to his right. Laurent's had more sexual items than the other store did. A shelf in front of him held an impressive array of dildos. One of the larger ones looked as thick as a soda can, and Neal's ass clenched.
He made his way to the back of the store. A sign hanging from the ceiling said "Furnishings." This was where they sold sleeping mats and bedding. Along the back wall was a modest selection of cages. At the far end of the row, a master with a male slave was looking at one of the floor models. He was tugging on the slave's leash, trying to get him to crawl inside the cage to try it out. The slave put up an impressively understated resistance. Neal could see him dig his heels into the floor.
Neal had been kept in a cage for most of his first day of slavery. Slaves always were for the first day or two, until the blood tests came back and the trainers were confident that there wouldn't be any outbursts.
He knew some slaves were caged as punishment, or even as a routine, and he was glad Peter and Elizabeth hadn't expressed an interest in that.
After a few minutes, Elizabeth paid for her order and motioned for Neal to come along. Neal took a deep breath as they left the store, as though the air inside had been toxic.
"So," he said, "what's in the box?"
"A surprise. I had it sent to the store so it wouldn’t be delivered when Peter's home. I don't want him getting his hands on it early."
A surprise for Peter. Purchased from a slave boutique. That didn't sound ominous at all.
Peter was still at work when they got home. Neal set down his shopping bags by the sofa and took off his coat.
"We could hide the package in my room," Neal said. "I don’t think Peter looks in my dresser very often."
"Nice try. I've got my own hiding places. Why don't you go put a kettle on in the kitchen? I'm in the mood for some tea."
Neal grudgingly went in the kitchen while Elizabeth ran upstairs with the package.
Elizabeth joined him a few minutes later. She'd taken off her shoes, and he barely heard her come into the room.
She got a mug out of the cabinet. "You want some tea?"
"Sure."
She grabbed a second mug for him and put them on the kitchen island. She sat down on one of the stools.
As Neal poured the water, Elizabeth said, "Peter told me the two of you have come to an understanding."
"I guess you could say that."
Elizabeth dipped a chamomile teabag into her mug. As she twirled it around, she said, "Peter has done a lot for you. He saved you from going to auction, remember?"
She made it sound like he'd done it out of altruism. Though, maybe some small part of Peter justified it that way. Maybe they both believed they were saving him from the system. Or from himself. But he wasn't naïve enough to believe that was their main motivation.
No, Neal was there because chasing him had given Peter a hard-on.
Neal tried to take a sip of his tea. The water was still too hot, and it burned his tongue.
"Peter has been very patient," Elizabeth continued. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but he doesn't want to hurt you. And you know Peter's been working hard this week."
"Yeah, that art theft, right? Someone stole a painting from the Met."
It was big news. There'd been an article in the paper yesterday. He wondered if the thief was anyone he knew.
"It's almost Christmas," Elizabeth said, "and I think Peter deserves a treat."
"The surprise?"
"That's right. Tomorrow, we're going out to dinner at Donatella's. And when we get home, I want the two of you to spend some time together. There are things Peter has been waiting a long time to try."
Neal leaned on the island and tapped his fingers on the marble. He could figure out what "things" she meant, and he shook his head. "You know I can't promise that."
"I've planned a nice night. You're a big part of it. Can't you just try, for one night? You'll see it's not so bad."
"If you really want to give Peter something special, don't you think he'd rather be with you? I mean, I don't mean to pry, but it doesn't seem like you guys are having any trouble."
She smirked. "Having sex with you hasn't hurt our sex life yet. I think I'm safe."
"I know. Look, I'm not saying Peter's getting old, but he's not sixteen anymore. Guys need a little time between performances, and if you're planning a big date, I just think it'd be nice if you could really spend some time with him."
"Your concern is noted. I think Peter and I can figure out a way to enjoy ourselves—even if you do manage to tire him out." She patted his hand. "No matter what Peter thinks, I know you'll make us proud."
Neal looked down at his tea. It seemed he'd finally encountered the flaw in his strategy of sucking up to Elizabeth. Or rather, she'd learned how to use it to her advantage.
Still, what could he do about it, aside from playing along?
He put a smile on his face and lifted his mug in a toast. "Your confidence is flattering."
* * *
Neal had assumed that when Elizabeth talked about going out to dinner, she meant just her and Peter.
The next evening, however, he was told to get ready to go out. He'd never been invited along on anything resembling a date before. The thought of a nice dinner almost made up for his apprehension about what was going to happen later.
He and Peter were in the kitchen waiting for Elizabeth to finish getting ready. Peter was going through one of the junk drawers, haphazardly shoving stuff around. Neal had just organized that drawer a couple weeks ago, and he glared as he watched his work being undone.
With a sigh, Peter said, "Neal, have you seen a small screwdriver? I could've sworn I put it in one of these drawers."
"Not that I can recall."
He had seen it, in fact. It was now upstairs in his shoebox. He'd found it shoved in the back of the drawer, tangled in a pile of rubber bands. Could he be blamed for assuming they'd never look for it?
Peter stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. He pursed his lips and looked around the room with narrow, discerning eyes. He was on the hunt, now. Neal wondered if he should "find" the screwdriver somewhere and return it. Then again, he doubted Peter cared enough about it to institute a search of the entire house.
After a minute, Peter gave up on the screwdriver. He walked over to Neal, who was leaning on the kitchen island, and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"El tells me I'm in for a treat when we get home."
"Mm," Neal said, strained, "did she?"
"Yep."
He ran his hand down Neal's back and rested it on his ass. He gave his left cheek a hard squeeze and then patted it gently when Neal jumped.
Before he could harass Neal any further, Elizabeth came downstairs. She was dressed in a purple dress and heels.
"You guys ready? I want to get to Donatella's before it gets too busy."
Neal was all too eager to get out of the house. During the drive to the restaurant, he peered out the window at the city lights. He didn't get out at night that often.
Donatella's was warm and cozy, with soft lighting. Neal just wished that Peter hadn't insisted on taking him inside on the leash. The hostess noticed it right away.
"Do you want a kneeling pad for him," she asked, "or will he be joining you at the table?"
She gestured to a stack of kneeling pads. Most restaurants had them on hand for slave owners who didn't allow their slaves to sit with them.
Elizabeth put a hand on Neal's back. "He'll be at the table with us."
"All right. If you could just follow me...."
She led them to a corner booth. Peter stepped aside and motioned for Neal to get in first. Neal ended up sitting in the middle with his back against the wall.
As she handed them some menus, the hostess said, "If you'll look on the back, we have a selection of slave meals."
Neal had not been given a menu. He looked over Elizabeth's shoulder at the "slave meals" and frowned. His choices were a sandwich (bologna, turkey, or cheese), soup and bread, or a dish succinctly called "pasta with chicken."
"Seriously? Are these really my options?" Neal asked.
"Oh, no, sweetie," Elizabeth said. "You can get whatever you want."
"Within reason," Peter said.
That was better. He scooted closer to Elizabeth so he could read the menu more easily. It was difficult to decide what to get. It wasn't like he was deprived of good food at home, but this was the first time since his conviction that he'd been in a restaurant. He finally decided on the eggplant parmigiana.
Peter and Elizabeth ordered a bottle of red wine. When it arrived, Neal looked wistfully at it. He hadn't even been given a wine glass.
When their waitress came with their salads, however, Elizabeth asked for a third glass.
She filled the extra glass with wine and pushed it over to Neal. "There you go. A special treat."
Neal glanced at Peter. He offered no objections. Neal was a little suspicious of his good fortune, but he accepted the glass and took a sip.
He imagined the staff and other diners must think he was spoiled. He liked that.
While they ate, Neal listened with rapt attention while Peter talked about the missing painting from the Met.
"Do you have any leads?" Neal asked.
"Yeah," Peter said with a smile. "We think it's connected to three other thefts over the past decade. We have a few suspects."
Neal was on his second glass of wine. He'd poured it himself, and either his owners didn't notice or didn't care.
When dinner was over, Peter and Elizabeth ordered dessert. They didn't order anything for Neal, but Elizabeth allowed him to eat a few bites of her chocolate cake.
With the good wine and conversation, it was almost easy to forget about what was awaiting him at home.
* * *
"Hold still."
Neal was squirming. He was kneeling naked on Peter and Elizabeth's bed, and Elizabeth was sitting beside him, trying to affix a blue ribbon to his collar.
"I mean it," she said. "If you don't hold still, I'll have to spank you."
Despite her threat, her voice was calm. He was reminded of a couple weeks ago when she put together a gift basket for some new neighbors who moved in down the street. He'd watched her fuss over it, making sure the presentation was just right. He felt like that basket, now.
Sometimes he forgot how much of a perfectionist Elizabeth could be. She'd been messing with the ribbon for five minutes, while Peter waited out in the hall for his "present."
The ribbon tickled his neck, making his muscles twitch. His knees were getting stiff.
At last, Elizabeth sat back with a satisfied smile. "There. Now, we just need a couple more accessories...."
She got up and opened the nightstand drawer. Neal watched as she pulled out a pair of padded leather cuffs, a thin silver chain, and a strangely-shaped object that Neal suspected was supposed to go up his ass somehow.
These must have been what she'd ordered from Laurent's.
Holding up the cuffs, she said, "These are just in case we want to use them. I'll leave them over here for Peter."
Next, she picked up the silver chain. Now, Neal saw that they actually had small clamps on each end. Nipple clamps.
He started to pull back as she approached him, but she gave him a firm look. Gently, she reached out with her free hand and rubbed his nipples between her thumb and forefinger, making them harden and protrude from his chest. Then she opened one of the clamps and attached it to his left nipple.
Neal sucked in his breath. The clamp hurt.
Before he could protest, Elizabeth quickly attached the second clamp.
Neal squirmed. The movement made the silver chain sway back and forth, which caused the clamps to tug at his nipples. Then the chain settled, cool and heavy, against his stomach. At least the clamps had rubber tips.
Elizabeth cooed at him and patted his chest. "I know it takes some getting used to, but it's very sexy."
He was so distracted by the clamps that he barely registered Elizabeth reaching for the third item. She held it in front of his face. It looked like a large anal plug, except it had a second "finger," creating a sort of U shape.
"This is a prostate and perineum stimulator," Elizabeth said. "It's supposed to help provide a little foreplay."
"I don't think it's necessary."
"Peter will like it."
"Then why doesn't Peter put up his own ass?" Neal asked shortly.
Elizabeth gave him a quick swat on the ass, making the chain swing back and forth painfully. Neal let out an undignified groan.
"No complaining. I want you to have a good attitude for Peter."
She motioned for him to turn around, and he shuffled so that his back was to her. She put a hand between his shoulder blades and gently pushed him down.
"I can put it in myself..." Neal said. He didn't want to, but Elizabeth had never touched his ass before. Perhaps in other circumstances, he would have welcomed it. The sex they had together always approximated intimacy. This, getting bent over and prepared for Peter's dick while gravity caused the clamps to tug at his nipples, was something else entirely.
It hit him. He was going to get fucked. Maybe he could talk Peter out of it, but even if he did...it'd just be another temporary reprieve. There was something almost comforting about the inevitability, and for a moment he considered giving in. Neal shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to the bed. He was getting a headache—too much wine at dinner, maybe.
Elizabeth rubbed his thigh. "It's all right. We're going to make this enjoyable. You'll see—it's going to be fun." She reached around with her other hand and gave his cock a quick stroke.
The air cooled around him as she stepped away. He heard the sound of a bottle opening, and a moment later, he felt her finger, slick and cool with lube, circling around her hole.
Her touch was slow and gentle. Neal wondered if she'd done this before. He didn't think Peter had—when he put his fingers in Neal's ass, there was something impatient about it. Last time, he'd tried to poke his thumb inside him before Neal was relaxed and lubed enough, and he'd huffed in disappointment when Neal's hole was too tight.
When Elizabeth placed the tip of the toy against Neal's hole, the urge to tighten up against the intrusion battled with the knowledge that he should relax. Comfort won over dignity, and he relaxed and bore down, letting the toy slip inside him. When the widest part of it stretched his hole, it was shamefully pleasurable. But it only lasted a moment before the whole thing was inside him.
The other finger rested firmly against his perineum.
Neal had just started to adjust to the sensation when Elizabeth fiddled with the base and the toy began to vibrate. A loud hum filled the room. Neal jumped and Elizabeth laughed.
"Oh, sweetie...that got a reaction. Well, the website did say it was supposed to be intense."
She touched the base again and lowered the vibrations a little. The shrill vibration became a duller hum.
"There," Elizabeth said. "I think we'll start you off with a lower setting."
Neal raised up onto his knees. The vibrator shifted inside him, rubbing against his prostate. When he turned to face Elizabeth again, she squeezed his shoulders and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"You're going to be great tonight," she said. Looking over her shoulder, she called out, "You can come in now!"
The bedroom door opened. Peter leaned in the doorway, holding a bottle of beer. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the t-shirt he wore underneath. He grinned at the sight of Neal.
"Oh," he said, chuckling, "you weren't kidding when you said you had a present. What's that buzzing?"
"A vibrator. To help put him in the mood."
"Looks like it's working."
Neal's face reddened.
Elizabeth got off the bed. She walked over to Peter and kissed him on the lips. "I'm going to run downstairs. Yell if you need me."
"You're leaving?" Peter asked, frowning.
She ran a finger down Peter's chest. "Oh, I'll be back. In the meantime, I'll let you check out your present."
She took his beer bottle for him and left the room, closing the door behind her. For a minute, Peter continued to stand where he was. He crossed his arms and appraised Neal with a grin.
"El really got you trussed up, huh? I like it." He walked over to the nightstand and picked up the cuffs. "These look handy."
Neal was silent. His nipples ached, and the vibrator...hell, he didn't know what to make of the vibrator, except that his dick was getting hard. Of course, Peter could see everything. There was no hiding his erection, or his face.
Peter put down the cuffs and sat on the bed.
"You're in trouble now, aren't you?" he said.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yeah you do. You've got El convinced that you can be cooperative in bed. Now you'd better prove her right or she might catch on to your little act."
Neal didn't respond. Peter continued.
"But you know, we both want the same thing, here."
Neal looked up in Peter's eyes. "Oh, yeah?"
Peter reached out and stroked Neal's chest. He gave the silver chain a small tug, eliciting a gasp.
"I don't want to hurt you. I want to fuck someone who acts like he wants to be here. And even though I know you'd love to lie here like log, or tighten up, or do whatever else you can think of to make this difficult, you don't really want that."
Neal gave him a bitter smile. "Then what do I want?"
"You put up a good front, but I can tell you're nervous. It's all right. I know my dick is bigger than those plugs we've been using. I thought I was doing you a favor by waiting, but maybe I just made it harder. Maybe I should've broken you in right away. But it doesn't matter. This is inevitable, so let's make it easy. You're supposed to be a damn good conman, so put a smile on your face and show some enthusiasm for once."
Neal swallowed and considered what Peter had said. There were only a couple ways to keep his dignity: resisting, and making the most of it. He'd been trying to resist, but resisting and failing brought its own special brand of shame.
There was really only one other option now.
Smiling, Neal placed his palm on Peter's chest. "Like this?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Peter looked so damn pleased with himself that Neal felt like slapping the smug look off his face.
Peter touched the ribbon on Neal's collar. "Nice touch," he said. He hooked a finger around the chain connected to the nipple clamps and tugged.
Neal winced and, to spare his poor nipples, let himself be pulled closer. One of the clamps slipped off, causing a sharp sting that quickly faded into a dull burn. Peter pulled off the other clamp and set the chain on the dresser. The "leash" was no longer needed—Neal's body was only a couple inches from Peter, well within reach.
Peter cupped Neal's cheeks and kissed him. When he felt Peter's tongue against his lips, Neal parted them. For the first time, he kissed Peter back. He slipped his tongue into Peter's mouth. Peter tasted of alcohol. The overwhelming reality of what he was doing almost overtook Neal, but he kept his lips against Peter's and pressed his hips against Peter's groin.
It was Peter who broke off the kiss, and Neal's shoulders sank in temporary relief.
Peter wrapped his arms around Neal. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm going to make this feel good, and you'll see it's not so bad. Besides, getting fucked should be right up your alley—you don't have to do anything. You just spread your legs. I hope that wine got you loosened up."
So that was why they'd let him have the wine. Neal was prepared to comment on the obvious manipulation, but looking into Peter's eyes, he saw a crack in his facade. His gaze was hopeful and tentative, as though he really did want Neal to enjoy himself.
Peter liked to present himself as a stern master, but a stern master would just fuck his slave. Peter clearly had some hopes that this would be mutually enjoyable, even if he was prepared for something less. He wondered if Peter even understood his own feelings and motivations sometimes. He seemed torn between viewing Neal as a slave and recognizing that he was still a person whose opinions mattered.
"Turn around," Peter said, softly.
Neal did, and he quickly found himself in the same position that Elizabeth had put him in not long prior, with his head on the bed and his ass in the air. Peter turned off the vibrator and pulled it out. Neal sighed with relief.
Peter set the vibrator aside and stood up. He started to strip off his clothes, and Neal turned over and leaned against the pillows, watching him.
When Peter took off his pants, Neal saw that he was hard. Hell, he'd probably gotten a head start out in the hall.
Now that Peter wasn't touching him, Neal started to think again. Seeing Peter's arousal made him reconsider acquiescing. Maybe there was another way....
Peter returned to the bed, and as soon as he sat down, Neal bent over and took Peter's cock in his mouth. Peter jumped and made a surprised sound. Neal was not known for his enthusiastic blow jobs, but if enthusiasm was what Peter wanted, Neal would muster some up. With luck, maybe it would end things early, before Peter could do anything else with his dick.
Neal thrust Peter's cock in and out of his mouth. His neck ached from the awkward angle, but he was determined not to stop. Perhaps he was moving too fast; Peter always preferred a gentle build-up. But it was worth the risk.
Peter clenched Neal's hair in his fist and moaned. He started to grind his hips against Neal's face, thrusting his cock even deeper down Neal's throat.
But suddenly, Peter pushed him away. His cock was firm and glistened with saliva. Neal wiped some spit and pre-come off his chin.
"Didn't you like that?" he asked. He cleared his throat.
"It was great," Peter said with a breathy chuckle. "Best blowjob you've given. But if you kept it up, I would've come in your mouth instead of your ass. Don't want that."
Neal reached for Peter's cock, intending to stroke it, but Peter slapped his hand away.
"I mean it," he said, narrowing his eyes. "I don't want any more foreplay."
Neal watched, dejected, as Peter reached for the bottle of lube. He'd known, really, that stalling was pointless.
"Lie down," Peter said.
Neal lay back and rested his head against the pillow. Peter had him bend his legs, and then he nudged them apart at the knees. He slipped two lubed fingers into Neal's already slick hole. With his other hand, he jerked Neal's cock.
Neal squirmed. Peter was fucking him with his fingers, and it was hard not to get more aroused. He hated that Peter could see the flush in his cheeks and the hardness of his cock, and it was a relief when Peter pulled his fingers out and slapped Neal's thigh, saying, "All right, turn over."
As Neal shifted onto his knees, he looked at Peter's dick and said, "Aren't you going to use a condom? I don't want you to come in me...."
That earned him another slap on the thigh.
"I'll come wherever I please. In fact, I think I like the idea of doing it inside that tight ass of yours."
Neal didn't feel like delaying matters by arguing. Besides, if Peter knew how humiliating he found the idea of having come inside him, it would just make things worse. He turned over onto his hands and knees. Peter pushed his chest down to the bed and grasped his hips. Neal was bent at the waist with his knees tucked under his chest and his ass raised high. Peter tapped the inside of Neal's thigh, which Neal interpreted as a signal to spread his legs. He inched his legs apart with a sigh. From this position, he couldn't see what Peter was doing, but he heard the slick sound of Peter lubing himself up.
He felt Peter's cock, large and firm, pressing against him. Peter's fingers dug into Neal's hips and with a firm push, the head of his cock breached Neal's asshole.
Neal bit off a gasp. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it was big. So much for the training plugs—there was no way they could have trained him for this. Neal wondered if he should have swallowed his pride and tried the bigger ones, but it was too late now.
He had a hard time registering what was happening. He'd been convinced for so long that this would never actually happen. As much as he'd disliked the plugs, they didn't compare to the humiliation of Peter using his ass as his own personal sex toy.
Peter was still pushing, easing his cock inside. Neal wondered how much more of it there was. He'd seen plenty of Peter's cock, but it'd never seemed this long. Finally, he felt Peter's pelvis against his buttocks. His pubic hair brushed up against Neal's ass. Peter was fully-seated.
Then he began to thrust.
There was a small twinge of pain. The feeling of being fucked was incredibly foreign, and Neal didn't know what to do about it. He reflexively tightened his muscles to stop the intrusion.
"Relax," Peter said. "Loosen up. You're doing well."
Neal expected to hear annoyance, but Peter's tone was calm and cajoling.
It wasn't like Neal's tightness was preventing Peter from having his way. Neal knew that some of Peter's books said to hell with the slave's comfort. The only obligation, they said, was to avoid causing injury. Peter must have felt like a great owner for trying to make Neal enjoy himself.
Neal forced himself to relax. To compensate, he clenched his fists in the sheets. As Neal rocked back and forth on the bed, the bow affixed to his collar came loose. He pulled the ribbon off and balled it up in his fist.
After a minute, Peter settled into a rhythm and Neal started to adjust to the thrusting. Despite the earlier shock of it, his cock was still hard. His erection slapped against his stomach. With each thrust, Peter's cock brushed against his prostate.
Neal heard the bedroom door open.
"Having fun?" Elizabeth asked.
"Oh, yeah," Peter said, panting. "He's so tight."
Neal buried his face in the pillow in front of him.
Elizabeth didn't say anything more, and Neal was only aware of her presence by the sound of her footsteps. When the sound stopped, he turned his head and saw her sitting in the chair across the room, watching them. She'd taken off her dress and was in her bra and panties.
As Neal watched, she slipped a hand down the front of her panties and started to stroke herself.
He didn't know if Elizabeth's presence helped or hindered his stubborn erection. As much as he wanted to hold on, the pleasure kept building. With a small grunt, he came on the bed below him. His ass tightened around Peter's cock, and Peter let out a low moan.
As his orgasm faded, Neal shuddered. With the build-up of pleasure gone, it seemed like Peter had been fucking him for a long time. His ass felt raw and tender.
He had no idea if either Peter or Elizabeth had noticed his orgasm. He thought Peter would have made an annoying comment about it if he had.
Suddenly, Peter stopped thrusting. He dug his fingers into Neal's hips and grunted. This was it—Peter was coming inside him. Neal buried his face.
After a few moments, Peter pulled out with a contented sigh. He rubbed Neal's hip.
"There," he murmured. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"No," Neal said softly.
"Yeah, I didn't think so. See? I told you I'd take care of you. You were worried about nothing."
Peter stretched out on his back beside Neal. His face and chest were covered in a sheen of sweat.
Neal felt something wet around his hole, and for a moment he worried that he was bleeding. But he quickly realized that it was come and lube. His legs ached from being spread and he had to close them slowly.
Neal collapsed onto his stomach and immediately regretted it when his come rubbed onto his skin. Before he could compose himself, Elizabeth got up and sat on the edge of the bed by Neal's head. She had taken off her panties.
She managed to get one of her legs on the other side of Neal's head. He realized what she wanted and crawled closer. She was wet and her clit was engorged from arousal.
Neal lapped at her clit. Her wetness was tangy against his tongue but not unpleasant. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peter watching, mesmerized. But even if he enjoyed the sight, he looked too tired to even consider round two.
Neal was too tired and foggy-headed to focus on what he was doing. His headache was getting worse, and now his temples were throbbing. Peter had a point—at least when he was getting fucked, he didn't have to do much.
Even so, it didn't take Neal long to bring Elizabeth to orgasm. She let Neal pull away and slumped back against the pillow.
"Honey?" Elizabeth said after a minute. "Why don't you and Neal get cleaned up? I bet you guys could use a nice, hot shower before bed."
Peter looked like he was ready to fall asleep, but he sat up. "Yep. C'mon, Neal." He gave Neal a pat on the ass.
Neal didn't move. He suddenly wanted a minute to himself. He settled for pressing his forehead against the bed, taking a deep breath, and blinking away a couple tears that sprang to his eyes. If they saw his face now, they would think he was upset, but he wasn't. He didn't know how he felt, but he thought he should feel worse about what had just happened than he did. Instead, he was overwhelmed by a mixture of arousal, embarrassment, defeat, and relief.
"I said c'mon," Peter said. Then, his voice softening, he put a hand on Neal's shoulder and said, "You all right? Not too sore?"
Neal suspected he'd be sore later, but he wasn't now. Hesitantly, he got up onto his knees. Both Peter and Elizabeth looked at the come smeared on his stomach, and then at the spot on the bed.
"I didn't know you came," Peter said, blinking.
"Yeah. Sorry about the mess...."
"Oh, honey," Elizabeth said, "don't be sorry. It's good you enjoyed yourself. That's what we wanted."
She obviously interpreted his hesitance as fear that they would disapprove. Some owners didn't allow their slaves to have orgasms. There was a whole school of thought that it was a way to maintain control over a slave. But Neal knew that Peter and Elizabeth didn't fall into that camp. They were too determined to have him as an active participant in the bedroom.
"Yeah," Peter said, grinning, "it's great. Guess I'm not too bad at this."
Suddenly, Neal knew why he hadn't wanted them to see that he'd come. Of course they would see it as a sign of success. And now Peter was going to see himself as an expert on fucking. The last thing he needed was an ego boost—wasn't it enough that he'd caught Neal and purchased him? Did he have to have control over Neal in this way, too?
"I'll just change the sheets while you guys clean up," Elizabeth said.
Neal got up and followed Peter into the bathroom. In the shower, he stood still and let the water run down his back. He washed himself mechanically and soaped up his chest for at least a couple minutes before Peter took over and ran a soapy washcloth over Neal's body. Neal remained passive. It wasn't meant as defiance—he was simply tired. He didn't even react when Peter washed the crack of his ass, cleaning up lube and traces of come.
Peter played with his collar and gave him a soft bite on the neck. "Tonight was good, wasn't it? I didn't hurt you."
"No, you didn't."
"And you were good. See, this is how it should be. No arguing or conniving. Just you doing your job and us having some fun."
Neal tilted his head, letting the water soak his hair. "Hate to break it to you, but I don't think the three years you spent chasing me were very good foreplay. If you were looking for a bedmate, you could've been more romantic. 'Specially after I sent that champagne to your surveillance van."
"Oh yeah, that was very clever of you. No, I'm just saying that just because I'm your master doesn't mean this has to be a battle. I mean, I guess I like you. I wouldn't have bought you if I didn't."
"How flattering."
When they were done, Peter took Neal by the arm and led him, still naked, back to the master bedroom. Elizabeth had changed the sheets and was lounging on the bed in an oversized pajama top. She'd laid out Peter's pajamas and a pair of Neal's boxers.
"You're going to sleep with us tonight," Elizabeth said to Neal.
He pulled on his boxers and didn't argue. Despite his earlier desire for some time alone, he wasn't sure if he would like spending the night alone with his thoughts.
He lay down in the middle of the bed and Peter and Elizabeth leaned over him to kiss.
"I hope you liked your present," Elizabeth said.
"It was the best, Hon."
Neal expected to have trouble sleeping, but he didn't. Sex had always made him sleepy, but tonight he was truly exhausted.
The next day, he was stiff and sore. He was tempted to complain, to tell Peter (or, better yet, Elizabeth) that getting fucked had hurt. But that would be a twist of the truth, at best—his ass was only a little tender. It was his legs that ached the worst, from being spread in a way they weren't used to.
He stretched as he got ready in the morning. He knew his muscles would get used to it eventually, whether he liked it or not.
Fandom: White Collar
Characters/Pairing: Neal/Peter, Peter/Elizabeth/Neal, Neal/Elizabeth, Peter/Elizabeth, references to Neal/Kate
Rating: Explicit
Contains: Non-con, dub-con, institutionalized slavery, spanking, humiliation, dark!Peter, dark!Elizabeth, sex, rimming
Word count: 6650 this part. About 122k total.
Summary: After being convicted of bond forgery, Neal is sentenced to four years of slavery. But he isn't prepared to be purchased by Peter Burke. Or for what Peter has in store for him.
Notes: See Chapter 1 for details.
A few days later, Elizabeth took him to the mall for a pair of black dress shoes.
He was pleased, and a little surprised, by how quickly things were moving. He hadn't been sure if she was serious about enlisting his help at work or if it was just an idea. An idea Peter might shoot down.
She further surprised him by letting him get a pair of dress pants, as well.
"I'd like to start taking you with me to work sometimes," she said. "Not just for events. You can be like an assistant."
Neal liked the sound of that. He thumbed through the racks, looking for a nice pair of pants in his size. Elizabeth had left the leash in the car, and seemed content to stand back and let him make his own selections with minimal guidance.
"Of course, it won't be every day. Peter and I want you to focus on us and the house, and we don't want to overwhelm you. But we've decided we're both going to use you at work more."
That meant he would be going back to the FBI offices, as well. Or at least helping Peter out from home. Neal welcomed it. It would keep him from getting bored, and maybe now they would see him as more than an expensive sex toy. And being Elizabeth's assistant was a great idea. Neal didn't have a problem serving at parties, but helping plan them was much more appealing.
Looking up, he said, "If I'm going to work, you know what would look good? A tie."
Elizabeth gave him a sympathetic smile. "Don't you think it'd be a little hard to wear a tie with your collar?"
Neal's face fell. She had a point. He'd worn his collar long enough that sometimes he managed to forget about it.
Seeing his expression, Elizabeth's brow furrowed and she said, "Well, maybe we can get you one next time, and you can give it a try."
A half hour later, they'd purchased a pair of pants and were making their way out of the store. As they made their way toward the entrance of the mall, Elizabeth stepped into a few other stores to browse, and Neal obediently followed.
"Just one more stop," Elizabeth told him.
He expected it to be another clothing store, but then he saw that she was leading him into Laurent's Slave Boutique.
Laurent's Slave Boutique was like the supply store Peter had taken him to—except classier and more expensive. That didn't stop Neal from tensing at the sight of the leashes and cages in the display window.
As they stepped inside, Elizabeth put a hand on his arm and said, "Why don't you take a look around? I'll just be a few minutes."
Neal wasn't stupid. He was going to keep an eye on Elizabeth. He pretended to look around and stopped by a shelf of books. He found one titled 100 Ways to Please Your Owner: A Guide for Slaves and opened it. Keeping his head down, he raised his eyes and watched as Elizabeth went up to the counter.
"Hi," she said, "I had an order delivered to the store. My last name is Burke."
The woman behind the counter crouched down and came up a moment later with a cardboard box.
"Here it is. Will that be all?"
"If you don't mind, I'm just going to take a look at your books."
"No problem. I'll check you out whenever you're ready."
Neal put the book he was pretending to look at back on the shelf. He eyed the package sitting on the counter. It wasn't very big. What could Elizabeth have ordered?
Elizabeth started to browse the books, and Neal felt safe to take a look around the store. There were some restraints, mostly leather cuffs, to his right. Laurent's had more sexual items than the other store did. A shelf in front of him held an impressive array of dildos. One of the larger ones looked as thick as a soda can, and Neal's ass clenched.
He made his way to the back of the store. A sign hanging from the ceiling said "Furnishings." This was where they sold sleeping mats and bedding. Along the back wall was a modest selection of cages. At the far end of the row, a master with a male slave was looking at one of the floor models. He was tugging on the slave's leash, trying to get him to crawl inside the cage to try it out. The slave put up an impressively understated resistance. Neal could see him dig his heels into the floor.
Neal had been kept in a cage for most of his first day of slavery. Slaves always were for the first day or two, until the blood tests came back and the trainers were confident that there wouldn't be any outbursts.
He knew some slaves were caged as punishment, or even as a routine, and he was glad Peter and Elizabeth hadn't expressed an interest in that.
After a few minutes, Elizabeth paid for her order and motioned for Neal to come along. Neal took a deep breath as they left the store, as though the air inside had been toxic.
"So," he said, "what's in the box?"
"A surprise. I had it sent to the store so it wouldn’t be delivered when Peter's home. I don't want him getting his hands on it early."
A surprise for Peter. Purchased from a slave boutique. That didn't sound ominous at all.
Peter was still at work when they got home. Neal set down his shopping bags by the sofa and took off his coat.
"We could hide the package in my room," Neal said. "I don’t think Peter looks in my dresser very often."
"Nice try. I've got my own hiding places. Why don't you go put a kettle on in the kitchen? I'm in the mood for some tea."
Neal grudgingly went in the kitchen while Elizabeth ran upstairs with the package.
Elizabeth joined him a few minutes later. She'd taken off her shoes, and he barely heard her come into the room.
She got a mug out of the cabinet. "You want some tea?"
"Sure."
She grabbed a second mug for him and put them on the kitchen island. She sat down on one of the stools.
As Neal poured the water, Elizabeth said, "Peter told me the two of you have come to an understanding."
"I guess you could say that."
Elizabeth dipped a chamomile teabag into her mug. As she twirled it around, she said, "Peter has done a lot for you. He saved you from going to auction, remember?"
She made it sound like he'd done it out of altruism. Though, maybe some small part of Peter justified it that way. Maybe they both believed they were saving him from the system. Or from himself. But he wasn't naïve enough to believe that was their main motivation.
No, Neal was there because chasing him had given Peter a hard-on.
Neal tried to take a sip of his tea. The water was still too hot, and it burned his tongue.
"Peter has been very patient," Elizabeth continued. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but he doesn't want to hurt you. And you know Peter's been working hard this week."
"Yeah, that art theft, right? Someone stole a painting from the Met."
It was big news. There'd been an article in the paper yesterday. He wondered if the thief was anyone he knew.
"It's almost Christmas," Elizabeth said, "and I think Peter deserves a treat."
"The surprise?"
"That's right. Tomorrow, we're going out to dinner at Donatella's. And when we get home, I want the two of you to spend some time together. There are things Peter has been waiting a long time to try."
Neal leaned on the island and tapped his fingers on the marble. He could figure out what "things" she meant, and he shook his head. "You know I can't promise that."
"I've planned a nice night. You're a big part of it. Can't you just try, for one night? You'll see it's not so bad."
"If you really want to give Peter something special, don't you think he'd rather be with you? I mean, I don't mean to pry, but it doesn't seem like you guys are having any trouble."
She smirked. "Having sex with you hasn't hurt our sex life yet. I think I'm safe."
"I know. Look, I'm not saying Peter's getting old, but he's not sixteen anymore. Guys need a little time between performances, and if you're planning a big date, I just think it'd be nice if you could really spend some time with him."
"Your concern is noted. I think Peter and I can figure out a way to enjoy ourselves—even if you do manage to tire him out." She patted his hand. "No matter what Peter thinks, I know you'll make us proud."
Neal looked down at his tea. It seemed he'd finally encountered the flaw in his strategy of sucking up to Elizabeth. Or rather, she'd learned how to use it to her advantage.
Still, what could he do about it, aside from playing along?
He put a smile on his face and lifted his mug in a toast. "Your confidence is flattering."
Neal had assumed that when Elizabeth talked about going out to dinner, she meant just her and Peter.
The next evening, however, he was told to get ready to go out. He'd never been invited along on anything resembling a date before. The thought of a nice dinner almost made up for his apprehension about what was going to happen later.
He and Peter were in the kitchen waiting for Elizabeth to finish getting ready. Peter was going through one of the junk drawers, haphazardly shoving stuff around. Neal had just organized that drawer a couple weeks ago, and he glared as he watched his work being undone.
With a sigh, Peter said, "Neal, have you seen a small screwdriver? I could've sworn I put it in one of these drawers."
"Not that I can recall."
He had seen it, in fact. It was now upstairs in his shoebox. He'd found it shoved in the back of the drawer, tangled in a pile of rubber bands. Could he be blamed for assuming they'd never look for it?
Peter stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. He pursed his lips and looked around the room with narrow, discerning eyes. He was on the hunt, now. Neal wondered if he should "find" the screwdriver somewhere and return it. Then again, he doubted Peter cared enough about it to institute a search of the entire house.
After a minute, Peter gave up on the screwdriver. He walked over to Neal, who was leaning on the kitchen island, and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"El tells me I'm in for a treat when we get home."
"Mm," Neal said, strained, "did she?"
"Yep."
He ran his hand down Neal's back and rested it on his ass. He gave his left cheek a hard squeeze and then patted it gently when Neal jumped.
Before he could harass Neal any further, Elizabeth came downstairs. She was dressed in a purple dress and heels.
"You guys ready? I want to get to Donatella's before it gets too busy."
Neal was all too eager to get out of the house. During the drive to the restaurant, he peered out the window at the city lights. He didn't get out at night that often.
Donatella's was warm and cozy, with soft lighting. Neal just wished that Peter hadn't insisted on taking him inside on the leash. The hostess noticed it right away.
"Do you want a kneeling pad for him," she asked, "or will he be joining you at the table?"
She gestured to a stack of kneeling pads. Most restaurants had them on hand for slave owners who didn't allow their slaves to sit with them.
Elizabeth put a hand on Neal's back. "He'll be at the table with us."
"All right. If you could just follow me...."
She led them to a corner booth. Peter stepped aside and motioned for Neal to get in first. Neal ended up sitting in the middle with his back against the wall.
As she handed them some menus, the hostess said, "If you'll look on the back, we have a selection of slave meals."
Neal had not been given a menu. He looked over Elizabeth's shoulder at the "slave meals" and frowned. His choices were a sandwich (bologna, turkey, or cheese), soup and bread, or a dish succinctly called "pasta with chicken."
"Seriously? Are these really my options?" Neal asked.
"Oh, no, sweetie," Elizabeth said. "You can get whatever you want."
"Within reason," Peter said.
That was better. He scooted closer to Elizabeth so he could read the menu more easily. It was difficult to decide what to get. It wasn't like he was deprived of good food at home, but this was the first time since his conviction that he'd been in a restaurant. He finally decided on the eggplant parmigiana.
Peter and Elizabeth ordered a bottle of red wine. When it arrived, Neal looked wistfully at it. He hadn't even been given a wine glass.
When their waitress came with their salads, however, Elizabeth asked for a third glass.
She filled the extra glass with wine and pushed it over to Neal. "There you go. A special treat."
Neal glanced at Peter. He offered no objections. Neal was a little suspicious of his good fortune, but he accepted the glass and took a sip.
He imagined the staff and other diners must think he was spoiled. He liked that.
While they ate, Neal listened with rapt attention while Peter talked about the missing painting from the Met.
"Do you have any leads?" Neal asked.
"Yeah," Peter said with a smile. "We think it's connected to three other thefts over the past decade. We have a few suspects."
Neal was on his second glass of wine. He'd poured it himself, and either his owners didn't notice or didn't care.
When dinner was over, Peter and Elizabeth ordered dessert. They didn't order anything for Neal, but Elizabeth allowed him to eat a few bites of her chocolate cake.
With the good wine and conversation, it was almost easy to forget about what was awaiting him at home.
"Hold still."
Neal was squirming. He was kneeling naked on Peter and Elizabeth's bed, and Elizabeth was sitting beside him, trying to affix a blue ribbon to his collar.
"I mean it," she said. "If you don't hold still, I'll have to spank you."
Despite her threat, her voice was calm. He was reminded of a couple weeks ago when she put together a gift basket for some new neighbors who moved in down the street. He'd watched her fuss over it, making sure the presentation was just right. He felt like that basket, now.
Sometimes he forgot how much of a perfectionist Elizabeth could be. She'd been messing with the ribbon for five minutes, while Peter waited out in the hall for his "present."
The ribbon tickled his neck, making his muscles twitch. His knees were getting stiff.
At last, Elizabeth sat back with a satisfied smile. "There. Now, we just need a couple more accessories...."
She got up and opened the nightstand drawer. Neal watched as she pulled out a pair of padded leather cuffs, a thin silver chain, and a strangely-shaped object that Neal suspected was supposed to go up his ass somehow.
These must have been what she'd ordered from Laurent's.
Holding up the cuffs, she said, "These are just in case we want to use them. I'll leave them over here for Peter."
Next, she picked up the silver chain. Now, Neal saw that they actually had small clamps on each end. Nipple clamps.
He started to pull back as she approached him, but she gave him a firm look. Gently, she reached out with her free hand and rubbed his nipples between her thumb and forefinger, making them harden and protrude from his chest. Then she opened one of the clamps and attached it to his left nipple.
Neal sucked in his breath. The clamp hurt.
Before he could protest, Elizabeth quickly attached the second clamp.
Neal squirmed. The movement made the silver chain sway back and forth, which caused the clamps to tug at his nipples. Then the chain settled, cool and heavy, against his stomach. At least the clamps had rubber tips.
Elizabeth cooed at him and patted his chest. "I know it takes some getting used to, but it's very sexy."
He was so distracted by the clamps that he barely registered Elizabeth reaching for the third item. She held it in front of his face. It looked like a large anal plug, except it had a second "finger," creating a sort of U shape.
"This is a prostate and perineum stimulator," Elizabeth said. "It's supposed to help provide a little foreplay."
"I don't think it's necessary."
"Peter will like it."
"Then why doesn't Peter put up his own ass?" Neal asked shortly.
Elizabeth gave him a quick swat on the ass, making the chain swing back and forth painfully. Neal let out an undignified groan.
"No complaining. I want you to have a good attitude for Peter."
She motioned for him to turn around, and he shuffled so that his back was to her. She put a hand between his shoulder blades and gently pushed him down.
"I can put it in myself..." Neal said. He didn't want to, but Elizabeth had never touched his ass before. Perhaps in other circumstances, he would have welcomed it. The sex they had together always approximated intimacy. This, getting bent over and prepared for Peter's dick while gravity caused the clamps to tug at his nipples, was something else entirely.
It hit him. He was going to get fucked. Maybe he could talk Peter out of it, but even if he did...it'd just be another temporary reprieve. There was something almost comforting about the inevitability, and for a moment he considered giving in. Neal shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to the bed. He was getting a headache—too much wine at dinner, maybe.
Elizabeth rubbed his thigh. "It's all right. We're going to make this enjoyable. You'll see—it's going to be fun." She reached around with her other hand and gave his cock a quick stroke.
The air cooled around him as she stepped away. He heard the sound of a bottle opening, and a moment later, he felt her finger, slick and cool with lube, circling around her hole.
Her touch was slow and gentle. Neal wondered if she'd done this before. He didn't think Peter had—when he put his fingers in Neal's ass, there was something impatient about it. Last time, he'd tried to poke his thumb inside him before Neal was relaxed and lubed enough, and he'd huffed in disappointment when Neal's hole was too tight.
When Elizabeth placed the tip of the toy against Neal's hole, the urge to tighten up against the intrusion battled with the knowledge that he should relax. Comfort won over dignity, and he relaxed and bore down, letting the toy slip inside him. When the widest part of it stretched his hole, it was shamefully pleasurable. But it only lasted a moment before the whole thing was inside him.
The other finger rested firmly against his perineum.
Neal had just started to adjust to the sensation when Elizabeth fiddled with the base and the toy began to vibrate. A loud hum filled the room. Neal jumped and Elizabeth laughed.
"Oh, sweetie...that got a reaction. Well, the website did say it was supposed to be intense."
She touched the base again and lowered the vibrations a little. The shrill vibration became a duller hum.
"There," Elizabeth said. "I think we'll start you off with a lower setting."
Neal raised up onto his knees. The vibrator shifted inside him, rubbing against his prostate. When he turned to face Elizabeth again, she squeezed his shoulders and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"You're going to be great tonight," she said. Looking over her shoulder, she called out, "You can come in now!"
The bedroom door opened. Peter leaned in the doorway, holding a bottle of beer. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the t-shirt he wore underneath. He grinned at the sight of Neal.
"Oh," he said, chuckling, "you weren't kidding when you said you had a present. What's that buzzing?"
"A vibrator. To help put him in the mood."
"Looks like it's working."
Neal's face reddened.
Elizabeth got off the bed. She walked over to Peter and kissed him on the lips. "I'm going to run downstairs. Yell if you need me."
"You're leaving?" Peter asked, frowning.
She ran a finger down Peter's chest. "Oh, I'll be back. In the meantime, I'll let you check out your present."
She took his beer bottle for him and left the room, closing the door behind her. For a minute, Peter continued to stand where he was. He crossed his arms and appraised Neal with a grin.
"El really got you trussed up, huh? I like it." He walked over to the nightstand and picked up the cuffs. "These look handy."
Neal was silent. His nipples ached, and the vibrator...hell, he didn't know what to make of the vibrator, except that his dick was getting hard. Of course, Peter could see everything. There was no hiding his erection, or his face.
Peter put down the cuffs and sat on the bed.
"You're in trouble now, aren't you?" he said.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yeah you do. You've got El convinced that you can be cooperative in bed. Now you'd better prove her right or she might catch on to your little act."
Neal didn't respond. Peter continued.
"But you know, we both want the same thing, here."
Neal looked up in Peter's eyes. "Oh, yeah?"
Peter reached out and stroked Neal's chest. He gave the silver chain a small tug, eliciting a gasp.
"I don't want to hurt you. I want to fuck someone who acts like he wants to be here. And even though I know you'd love to lie here like log, or tighten up, or do whatever else you can think of to make this difficult, you don't really want that."
Neal gave him a bitter smile. "Then what do I want?"
"You put up a good front, but I can tell you're nervous. It's all right. I know my dick is bigger than those plugs we've been using. I thought I was doing you a favor by waiting, but maybe I just made it harder. Maybe I should've broken you in right away. But it doesn't matter. This is inevitable, so let's make it easy. You're supposed to be a damn good conman, so put a smile on your face and show some enthusiasm for once."
Neal swallowed and considered what Peter had said. There were only a couple ways to keep his dignity: resisting, and making the most of it. He'd been trying to resist, but resisting and failing brought its own special brand of shame.
There was really only one other option now.
Smiling, Neal placed his palm on Peter's chest. "Like this?"
"Yeah, something like that."
Peter looked so damn pleased with himself that Neal felt like slapping the smug look off his face.
Peter touched the ribbon on Neal's collar. "Nice touch," he said. He hooked a finger around the chain connected to the nipple clamps and tugged.
Neal winced and, to spare his poor nipples, let himself be pulled closer. One of the clamps slipped off, causing a sharp sting that quickly faded into a dull burn. Peter pulled off the other clamp and set the chain on the dresser. The "leash" was no longer needed—Neal's body was only a couple inches from Peter, well within reach.
Peter cupped Neal's cheeks and kissed him. When he felt Peter's tongue against his lips, Neal parted them. For the first time, he kissed Peter back. He slipped his tongue into Peter's mouth. Peter tasted of alcohol. The overwhelming reality of what he was doing almost overtook Neal, but he kept his lips against Peter's and pressed his hips against Peter's groin.
It was Peter who broke off the kiss, and Neal's shoulders sank in temporary relief.
Peter wrapped his arms around Neal. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm going to make this feel good, and you'll see it's not so bad. Besides, getting fucked should be right up your alley—you don't have to do anything. You just spread your legs. I hope that wine got you loosened up."
So that was why they'd let him have the wine. Neal was prepared to comment on the obvious manipulation, but looking into Peter's eyes, he saw a crack in his facade. His gaze was hopeful and tentative, as though he really did want Neal to enjoy himself.
Peter liked to present himself as a stern master, but a stern master would just fuck his slave. Peter clearly had some hopes that this would be mutually enjoyable, even if he was prepared for something less. He wondered if Peter even understood his own feelings and motivations sometimes. He seemed torn between viewing Neal as a slave and recognizing that he was still a person whose opinions mattered.
"Turn around," Peter said, softly.
Neal did, and he quickly found himself in the same position that Elizabeth had put him in not long prior, with his head on the bed and his ass in the air. Peter turned off the vibrator and pulled it out. Neal sighed with relief.
Peter set the vibrator aside and stood up. He started to strip off his clothes, and Neal turned over and leaned against the pillows, watching him.
When Peter took off his pants, Neal saw that he was hard. Hell, he'd probably gotten a head start out in the hall.
Now that Peter wasn't touching him, Neal started to think again. Seeing Peter's arousal made him reconsider acquiescing. Maybe there was another way....
Peter returned to the bed, and as soon as he sat down, Neal bent over and took Peter's cock in his mouth. Peter jumped and made a surprised sound. Neal was not known for his enthusiastic blow jobs, but if enthusiasm was what Peter wanted, Neal would muster some up. With luck, maybe it would end things early, before Peter could do anything else with his dick.
Neal thrust Peter's cock in and out of his mouth. His neck ached from the awkward angle, but he was determined not to stop. Perhaps he was moving too fast; Peter always preferred a gentle build-up. But it was worth the risk.
Peter clenched Neal's hair in his fist and moaned. He started to grind his hips against Neal's face, thrusting his cock even deeper down Neal's throat.
But suddenly, Peter pushed him away. His cock was firm and glistened with saliva. Neal wiped some spit and pre-come off his chin.
"Didn't you like that?" he asked. He cleared his throat.
"It was great," Peter said with a breathy chuckle. "Best blowjob you've given. But if you kept it up, I would've come in your mouth instead of your ass. Don't want that."
Neal reached for Peter's cock, intending to stroke it, but Peter slapped his hand away.
"I mean it," he said, narrowing his eyes. "I don't want any more foreplay."
Neal watched, dejected, as Peter reached for the bottle of lube. He'd known, really, that stalling was pointless.
"Lie down," Peter said.
Neal lay back and rested his head against the pillow. Peter had him bend his legs, and then he nudged them apart at the knees. He slipped two lubed fingers into Neal's already slick hole. With his other hand, he jerked Neal's cock.
Neal squirmed. Peter was fucking him with his fingers, and it was hard not to get more aroused. He hated that Peter could see the flush in his cheeks and the hardness of his cock, and it was a relief when Peter pulled his fingers out and slapped Neal's thigh, saying, "All right, turn over."
As Neal shifted onto his knees, he looked at Peter's dick and said, "Aren't you going to use a condom? I don't want you to come in me...."
That earned him another slap on the thigh.
"I'll come wherever I please. In fact, I think I like the idea of doing it inside that tight ass of yours."
Neal didn't feel like delaying matters by arguing. Besides, if Peter knew how humiliating he found the idea of having come inside him, it would just make things worse. He turned over onto his hands and knees. Peter pushed his chest down to the bed and grasped his hips. Neal was bent at the waist with his knees tucked under his chest and his ass raised high. Peter tapped the inside of Neal's thigh, which Neal interpreted as a signal to spread his legs. He inched his legs apart with a sigh. From this position, he couldn't see what Peter was doing, but he heard the slick sound of Peter lubing himself up.
He felt Peter's cock, large and firm, pressing against him. Peter's fingers dug into Neal's hips and with a firm push, the head of his cock breached Neal's asshole.
Neal bit off a gasp. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it was big. So much for the training plugs—there was no way they could have trained him for this. Neal wondered if he should have swallowed his pride and tried the bigger ones, but it was too late now.
He had a hard time registering what was happening. He'd been convinced for so long that this would never actually happen. As much as he'd disliked the plugs, they didn't compare to the humiliation of Peter using his ass as his own personal sex toy.
Peter was still pushing, easing his cock inside. Neal wondered how much more of it there was. He'd seen plenty of Peter's cock, but it'd never seemed this long. Finally, he felt Peter's pelvis against his buttocks. His pubic hair brushed up against Neal's ass. Peter was fully-seated.
Then he began to thrust.
There was a small twinge of pain. The feeling of being fucked was incredibly foreign, and Neal didn't know what to do about it. He reflexively tightened his muscles to stop the intrusion.
"Relax," Peter said. "Loosen up. You're doing well."
Neal expected to hear annoyance, but Peter's tone was calm and cajoling.
It wasn't like Neal's tightness was preventing Peter from having his way. Neal knew that some of Peter's books said to hell with the slave's comfort. The only obligation, they said, was to avoid causing injury. Peter must have felt like a great owner for trying to make Neal enjoy himself.
Neal forced himself to relax. To compensate, he clenched his fists in the sheets. As Neal rocked back and forth on the bed, the bow affixed to his collar came loose. He pulled the ribbon off and balled it up in his fist.
After a minute, Peter settled into a rhythm and Neal started to adjust to the thrusting. Despite the earlier shock of it, his cock was still hard. His erection slapped against his stomach. With each thrust, Peter's cock brushed against his prostate.
Neal heard the bedroom door open.
"Having fun?" Elizabeth asked.
"Oh, yeah," Peter said, panting. "He's so tight."
Neal buried his face in the pillow in front of him.
Elizabeth didn't say anything more, and Neal was only aware of her presence by the sound of her footsteps. When the sound stopped, he turned his head and saw her sitting in the chair across the room, watching them. She'd taken off her dress and was in her bra and panties.
As Neal watched, she slipped a hand down the front of her panties and started to stroke herself.
He didn't know if Elizabeth's presence helped or hindered his stubborn erection. As much as he wanted to hold on, the pleasure kept building. With a small grunt, he came on the bed below him. His ass tightened around Peter's cock, and Peter let out a low moan.
As his orgasm faded, Neal shuddered. With the build-up of pleasure gone, it seemed like Peter had been fucking him for a long time. His ass felt raw and tender.
He had no idea if either Peter or Elizabeth had noticed his orgasm. He thought Peter would have made an annoying comment about it if he had.
Suddenly, Peter stopped thrusting. He dug his fingers into Neal's hips and grunted. This was it—Peter was coming inside him. Neal buried his face.
After a few moments, Peter pulled out with a contented sigh. He rubbed Neal's hip.
"There," he murmured. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
"No," Neal said softly.
"Yeah, I didn't think so. See? I told you I'd take care of you. You were worried about nothing."
Peter stretched out on his back beside Neal. His face and chest were covered in a sheen of sweat.
Neal felt something wet around his hole, and for a moment he worried that he was bleeding. But he quickly realized that it was come and lube. His legs ached from being spread and he had to close them slowly.
Neal collapsed onto his stomach and immediately regretted it when his come rubbed onto his skin. Before he could compose himself, Elizabeth got up and sat on the edge of the bed by Neal's head. She had taken off her panties.
She managed to get one of her legs on the other side of Neal's head. He realized what she wanted and crawled closer. She was wet and her clit was engorged from arousal.
Neal lapped at her clit. Her wetness was tangy against his tongue but not unpleasant. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peter watching, mesmerized. But even if he enjoyed the sight, he looked too tired to even consider round two.
Neal was too tired and foggy-headed to focus on what he was doing. His headache was getting worse, and now his temples were throbbing. Peter had a point—at least when he was getting fucked, he didn't have to do much.
Even so, it didn't take Neal long to bring Elizabeth to orgasm. She let Neal pull away and slumped back against the pillow.
"Honey?" Elizabeth said after a minute. "Why don't you and Neal get cleaned up? I bet you guys could use a nice, hot shower before bed."
Peter looked like he was ready to fall asleep, but he sat up. "Yep. C'mon, Neal." He gave Neal a pat on the ass.
Neal didn't move. He suddenly wanted a minute to himself. He settled for pressing his forehead against the bed, taking a deep breath, and blinking away a couple tears that sprang to his eyes. If they saw his face now, they would think he was upset, but he wasn't. He didn't know how he felt, but he thought he should feel worse about what had just happened than he did. Instead, he was overwhelmed by a mixture of arousal, embarrassment, defeat, and relief.
"I said c'mon," Peter said. Then, his voice softening, he put a hand on Neal's shoulder and said, "You all right? Not too sore?"
Neal suspected he'd be sore later, but he wasn't now. Hesitantly, he got up onto his knees. Both Peter and Elizabeth looked at the come smeared on his stomach, and then at the spot on the bed.
"I didn't know you came," Peter said, blinking.
"Yeah. Sorry about the mess...."
"Oh, honey," Elizabeth said, "don't be sorry. It's good you enjoyed yourself. That's what we wanted."
She obviously interpreted his hesitance as fear that they would disapprove. Some owners didn't allow their slaves to have orgasms. There was a whole school of thought that it was a way to maintain control over a slave. But Neal knew that Peter and Elizabeth didn't fall into that camp. They were too determined to have him as an active participant in the bedroom.
"Yeah," Peter said, grinning, "it's great. Guess I'm not too bad at this."
Suddenly, Neal knew why he hadn't wanted them to see that he'd come. Of course they would see it as a sign of success. And now Peter was going to see himself as an expert on fucking. The last thing he needed was an ego boost—wasn't it enough that he'd caught Neal and purchased him? Did he have to have control over Neal in this way, too?
"I'll just change the sheets while you guys clean up," Elizabeth said.
Neal got up and followed Peter into the bathroom. In the shower, he stood still and let the water run down his back. He washed himself mechanically and soaped up his chest for at least a couple minutes before Peter took over and ran a soapy washcloth over Neal's body. Neal remained passive. It wasn't meant as defiance—he was simply tired. He didn't even react when Peter washed the crack of his ass, cleaning up lube and traces of come.
Peter played with his collar and gave him a soft bite on the neck. "Tonight was good, wasn't it? I didn't hurt you."
"No, you didn't."
"And you were good. See, this is how it should be. No arguing or conniving. Just you doing your job and us having some fun."
Neal tilted his head, letting the water soak his hair. "Hate to break it to you, but I don't think the three years you spent chasing me were very good foreplay. If you were looking for a bedmate, you could've been more romantic. 'Specially after I sent that champagne to your surveillance van."
"Oh yeah, that was very clever of you. No, I'm just saying that just because I'm your master doesn't mean this has to be a battle. I mean, I guess I like you. I wouldn't have bought you if I didn't."
"How flattering."
When they were done, Peter took Neal by the arm and led him, still naked, back to the master bedroom. Elizabeth had changed the sheets and was lounging on the bed in an oversized pajama top. She'd laid out Peter's pajamas and a pair of Neal's boxers.
"You're going to sleep with us tonight," Elizabeth said to Neal.
He pulled on his boxers and didn't argue. Despite his earlier desire for some time alone, he wasn't sure if he would like spending the night alone with his thoughts.
He lay down in the middle of the bed and Peter and Elizabeth leaned over him to kiss.
"I hope you liked your present," Elizabeth said.
"It was the best, Hon."
Neal expected to have trouble sleeping, but he didn't. Sex had always made him sleepy, but tonight he was truly exhausted.
The next day, he was stiff and sore. He was tempted to complain, to tell Peter (or, better yet, Elizabeth) that getting fucked had hurt. But that would be a twist of the truth, at best—his ass was only a little tender. It was his legs that ached the worst, from being spread in a way they weren't used to.
He stretched as he got ready in the morning. He knew his muscles would get used to it eventually, whether he liked it or not.
