Healing Hands

By Juli

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

“I raped Miles last night.”

Frank’s fingers stilled on his laptop and he looked up sharply at his friend’s comment. Stephen was looking out the window of his office, back stiff with tension.

“That’s impossible,” Frank said firmly. “You’re not capable of rape.”

Stephen laughed bitterly. “I wanted his body and I took him to my bed, whether he wanted it or not. That’s rape.”

The investigator got up and went to his friend’s side. “Stephen, let me remind you that Miles is a slave. His body is yours and anything you want to do with it is fair game.”

The blond man sighed and finally turned to face Powell. “I know, I know. I just never thought I’d stoop to taking someone unwillingly, even a slave. Maybe especially a slave.”

Frank caressed Stephen’s cheek. They’d been lovers a long time ago and Stephen brought out a gentleness in Frank that even his wife didn’t inspire. Maybe because Stephen held everyone to such high expectations, especially himself.

“You forget, I know you. Miles might have started out unwilling, but I’m guessing that by the time you were finished, he was enjoying it as much as you were.” Frank stated. When Stephen didn’t answer, he pressed the issue. “Did he fight you?”

“No,” Connor’s answer was clipped, “he was too well ‘trained’ by previous owners… but he was passive.”

Frank chuckled, earning him a glare from Stephen, which made him laugh even harder.

“I’m glad you find this funny, Frank.”

“No, it’s not funny,” Frank responded, putting a reconciliatory hand on Stephen’s arm. “If there’s anything you hate, it’s passive, Stephen. I bet you took it as a challenge and made sure Miles enjoyed himself by the time you were done, even more than you did.”

Connor huffed and looked away.

“Did you make him come?” Frank asked. When the doctor nodded, Frank continued. “Well, then, he enjoyed himself. That’s more than most slave owners would do, Stephen.”

The other man was quiet for several moments and then turned. When he spoke, his voice had that infamous Connor intensity. “That’s not enough, Frank.”

Powell blinked. “This kid’s really got to you, hasn’t he?”

Stephen nodded. “He’s being punished for a crime his father committed, not him. As a Citizen, I can understand why it was necessary to set an example; if not, abolitionists would run rampant. But the more time I spend with Miles, the more I find simply being with him isn’t enough. Despite all he’s been through, Miles is still compassionate and wants to learn… I want to own more than his body, Frank.”

“You want his heart too,” Frank guessed. “Stephen, that’s not a bad thing.”

“No?” The doctor shrugged. “Tell that to my wife.”

Frank snorted with disgust. “Is this the same wife that makes you feel guilty for loving your job and is turning your son against you? Nope, not going to work, Stephen. You’re not going to use her as an excuse.”

“But….”

“But nothing,” Powell told his friend firmly. “You’ve been letting your wife run your marriage bed, ruining it. Take it from me, Stephen, you need an outlet. Miles is perfect. He’s smart; he’s compassionate; he’s attractive; and Gods, he even has a medical background.

“And he can’t say no,” Stephen’s eyes were flat and cold.

“Stephen, you’re not capable of rape, trust me,” Frank begged. “Whatever went down between the two of you last night, I’d bet my life that it was seduction, not rape. That boy’s half in love with you already; he just needs a little coaxing.”

Stephen’s resistance to the idea was melting. “But he’s so… wounded….”

Frank slapped him on the shoulder and chuckled. “Good thing you’re a healer, then. Heal him, Stephen. It’s what you do best.”

There wasn’t much Connor could say to that.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Stephen Connor was a pain in the ass. Literally.

Miles shifted on the uncomfortable lab stool, the throb in his butt an unwelcome reminder of the night before. It wasn’t that his Master had been rough, but simply that Miles hadn’t been taken sexually in a couple of months. The ache in his ass wasn’t an unfamiliar one. In fact, it had been his almost constant companion since becoming a slave. Miles figured that his body would reacquaint itself with being used regularly.

He wasn’t so sure about his heart.

He’d really thought Stephen was different, that he saw Miles as more than a convenient ass to be fucked. Miles had fallen asleep berating himself for the colossal mistake of trusting Stephen. He wasn’t feeling any better about the situation in the light of day. Miles had tried to be as inconspicuous at breakfast as he possibly could. He’d been lax in studying Stephen, so he had some time to make up. Miles didn’t know what his owner’s sexual triggers were. Until he figured that out, he had no way of knowing when his Master would next want to use him.

It had been less than twenty-four hours and already Miles missed that feeling of safety, even if it had all been a fake.

Before he could get too worked up about it, Miles was interrupted by the sound of Natalie and Eva’s voices. The slave managed to compose himself before the women entered the lab. It was bad enough that Stephen had decided to start using him; it would unbearable if everyone knew about it.

“Good morning, Miles,” Natalie called out as she entered. The doctor’s arm was around Eva’s waist and both of them were smiling.

Miles managed to smile back. “Good morning.”

Eva paused as she glanced at him, eyes narrowing as she got a good look at his face. “Good morning.” Her vocal tone was much more guarded than her lover’s.

Knowing that it would be harder to hide anything from the former slave, Miles dropped his gaze. Luckily, he had work in front of him, so he hoped it didn’t seem too obvious.

“Miles,” Natalie asked a few moments later. “I need some test results that Frank has in his office. Could you go get them for me?”

The slave sighed and obediently got up. Well aware that he was probably being observed, he was careful to walk as normally as possible. Only when he was out of the sight of the lab did Miles allow himself to step a little gingerly in order to spare his sore bottom.

Frank Powell wasn’t in his lab, a stroke of luck that Miles was grateful for. Powell had made some pointed comments and Miles knew the investigator would be pleased at last night’s turn of events. Not that Frank wished Miles ill, he was just Stephen’s close friend and had Connor’s best interests at heart.

Miles quickly found the files Natalie needed and headed back to the lab. He’d gotten out of the habit of keeping his head down in the NIH offices, but now but kept his eyes to the floor as he walked down the corridor. Miles was passing some office when a strange noise caught his attention. Looking up, he saw Aldo Parravinci leaning in a doorway and leering at him. The doctor pursed his lips and made a smooching noise at Miles. The slave shuddered and dropped his eyes.

As Miles hurried down the hallway, Parravinci’s mocking laughter followed him. In his distraction, he forgot to hide his limp and, when he’d reached the safety of Natalie’s lab and turned over the files to her, he belatedly realized his mistake. The kind look in Dr. Durant’s eyes made it clear not only that she’d seen, but also knew what it meant.

“Miles, did Stephen Claim you last night?” Natalie asked gently.

Miles felt his face flush and he withdrew to his seat. “Not exactly.”

Eva wouldn’t let him retreat completely. She stood next to him and put a delicate hand on his shoulder. “He took you,” she guessed.

The slave shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Honey, I’m sorry,” Eva said quietly. Her eyes were dark with memories.

Natalie was frowning as she crossed the lab to join the other two. “Stephen didn’t hurt you.” It wasn’t, quite, a question.

“No,” Miles admitted. “He used… he prepared me well.” Having been raised in a strict Christian household, he wasn’t used to speaking so frankly about sex. As a slave, he’d rarely talked about it, only endured it.

“Miles, I can’t imagine what it’s like not having a choice about sharing your body,” Natalie said gently. “But I do know that Stephen cares for you. He would never hurt you.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” Miles stated reluctantly. “It’s just-….”

To his embarrassment, Miles felt tears well up and he gave up trying to explain.

Eva, at least, didn’t need him to.

“It’s just that you would have liked a choice,” she finished for him quietly. “It doesn’t matter if you like Stephen. In fact, it’s probably worse because you *do* like Stephen.”

“Why’s that?” Natalie’s pretty face was screwed up in a confused frown.

“Because when it’s someone you don’t like making you have sex, you can dismiss it as a Master exerting his rights,” Eva explained. “But when it is someone you could care for, then you start thinking about what might have been, had you met the person when you were free.”

Natalie’s face softened. “Like you and James.”

Eva nodded and, with sad eyes, she turned to Miles to explain. “James Graham was my last owner.” She glanced at Natalie and her expression lightened. “Well, my last owner before Natalie. He was kind and gentle and I cared for him deeply, but he was still my Master. I was his ‘kitten,’ not his lover.”

“James loved you,” Durant contradicted the other woman. “He saw to it that you’d be freed or taken care of, depending on what you preferred.” Natalie turned to Miles. “I may not know what slavery is like, thank the Gods, but I do know Stephen Connor. He cares for you, trust me, and he’ll never hurt you.”

Miles looked away. Natalie was a nice woman and he wasn’t willing to scoff openly at her comments. As much as he appreciated her and Eva’s attempts to make him feel better, he didn’t know how much longer he could do this. His emotions had already been raw and this conversation wasn’t doing much to soothe them.

Luckily for Miles, his female friends were as observant as they were wise and knew when to back off.

“I know you don’t believe us now,” Eva stated quietly before moving away. “But it’s going to get better, just you wait and see.”

Natalie didn’t comment, just patted his shoulder and turned to her work. Miles sighed deeply and tried to do the same. The ladies meant well, but they weren’t taking into account the fact that he was a slave.

There simply was no ‘better’ when it came to his situation.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Stephen remained at the window, pensively looking out as Frank packed up his things and left. Stephen wasn’t seeing the scenery outside, though. Instead, he saw Miles’ face. That morning had been awkward, to say the least. Miles-the-ghost had put in another visit at the breakfast table. The young man kept his eyes down and answered every question with a monosyllable response. Stephen had quickly had enough of that, but when he put a hand under Miles’ chin and forced the slave to look at him, the wounded expression in Miles’ big brown eyes had brought him up short. It had been a relief to come to work, but a change in venue didn’t change the direction of his thoughts. It was a good thing there was no case on the docket; Miles was the only thing that Stephen could think about.

Was Frank right? Could Stephen help Miles to heal?

Stephen decided to do what he did best, approach the problem as a diagnosis. Unlike his medical cases, he knew exactly what the cause of Miles’ problem was. Namely, the trauma from the loss of freedom and repeated sexual assault. The symptoms Miles was presenting were equally clear. The young man showed a reluctance to trust, a lack of confidence, and a fear of physical intimacy.

“Okay, Doctor,” Stephen muttered to himself. “You know the cause and the effect. Now what about a cure?”

“I’d recommend TLC.”

Stephen looked up to see Natalie leaning against his door. He winced. Miles had all but fled to Natalie’s lab once they’d arrived to the NIH offices and Stephen had a feeling his colleague had a bone or two to pick with him. Nat was more than a little protective of the slave.

“Do you want to have this conversation in the morgue?” Stephen asked. When Durant just looked confused, he explained. “I thought it might be more convenient, for when you flay me alive.”

Natalie came into the office and helped herself to a chair. “Oh, I’m not going to chastise you. We’ve been expecting this.” She smiled slightly. “You might want to walk softly around Eva for a while, though.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Connor smiled ruefully. His expression turned more serious, however, as he considered the rest of what Natalie had said. “What do you mean, you were expecting this?”

Natalie shrugged. “You’re a healthy man in the prime of his life. It stands to reason that your libido would be working just fine. Despite my personal preferences, I have to admit that Miles would be awfully hard to resist.”

“Still, you’re taking this calmly,” Stephen pointed out. “Given how you felt about becoming involved with Eva while she was still Chained and how you mother hen Miles.”

Durant shook her head. “Eva’s situation was completely different,” she disagreed. “Miles has convict slave status; a relationship with you will offer him as much freedom as he can hope for.” She smiled gently. “Besides, Miles is wasting away emotionally. He needs you as much as you need him.”

One of Stephen’s eyebrows arched up. “I need him?”

“Frank’s not the only one worried about you,” Natalie said softly.

Stephen felt himself blush. “At least you haven’t been nagging me about my sex life.”

For the first time, Natalie looked uncomfortable. “Stephen, I don’t need to tell you that Miles is fragile. Have you considered that you might need help with him?”

“Help as in psychiatrist?” Stephen asked.

Natalie nodded and dug a card out of her pocket. Handing it to him, she explained, “Max helped Eva and me, I’m sure he could help Miles too.”

Stephen tapped the card against the desktop. “I remember you telling me about him. Isn’t his specialty helping freed slaves or soon-to-be-freed slaves?”

“Yes, but-…”

“How would he feel about me, then?” Stephen asked. “Miles will never be free and I’ve taken him to my bed.”

“Max isn’t going to judge you, Stephen,” Natalie assured him. “He helps with all sorts of slave-related issues. Yes, he has a vested interest in the slave’s welfare, but where Miles is concerned, I hardly think you’d object to that.”

Stephen thought about it for a minute and then shook his head. “Thanks, Nat, but it just doesn’t feel right. I’d like to try and help Miles on my own.”

Natalie made a soft sound of disgust. “That’s just like you, Stephen, thinking you have to fix everything yourself. What if you can’t this time?”

“I have an idea that I want to try out,” Stephen explained. “If it doesn’t work, I’ll give Max a call, I promise.”

Natalie got up as she conceded the point reluctantly. “All right, but I’ll hold you to that.”

Stephen watched his friend turn to leave. “Natalie,” he stopped her, “my lawyer is looking for any loopholes in Miles’ convict slave status.”

This time, Natalie’s smile was wide and bright. “We kind of expected that too.”

“Don’t tell him, though,” Stephen requested. “It’s a long-shot at best and I don’t want to get Miles’ hopes up. Sam says it’s highly unlikely that he’ll be able to do anything and he can’t push too hard or they might revoke my ownership.”

“You couldn’t be the man you are and not try,” Natalie stated. With a last smile, she left the office, walking slowly in the direction of her lab.

Stephen felt oddly buoyed by the conversation; Natalie’s confidence in his good intentions went a long way to dissipating the lingering guilty feelings. Besides, with friends like Natalie and Frank supporting him, Connor felt more sure of his chances in successfully healing Miles.

In a much better mood, the doctor went back to planning his course of treatment.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

The ride home was quiet and Miles couldn’t decide if that was a good sign or not. Normally he and Stephen would talk about the day’s cases or Miles’ schoolwork. That easy camaraderie had come to a screeching halt since Stephen had taken him. It had only been a day, but already Miles missed it.

It couldn’t be helped, though. Miles had allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security once already. He wasn’t about to permit that to happen again.

When they arrived at the apartment, Miles hunched down, trying to make his tall form as inconspicuous as possible so he could slink off to his room. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten what a keen observer his Master was.

“Miles, a moment please.” Stephen’s quiet words stopped Miles in his tracks.

The slave risked a brief glance at his owner. Stephen’s expression was light and open, not marred by lust. Even so, Miles opted for caution.

“Yes, Master?”

Stephen’s face fell, registering both disappointment and resolve. Miles flinched. He hadn’t seen that look on Stephen’s face before, but he’d seen it on other Masters. That was the kind of expression that usually meant punishment. He did his best to don his slave mask, steeling himself for what was to come. It wasn’t quite as easy as it used to be to find that sense of detachment that was necessary for survival. Had just a couple of months with Stephen Connor softened him that much?

Not aware of the thought processes going on in his slave’s mind, Stephen blithely continued.

“I think that’s quite enough of that,” Stephen took Miles by the elbow and led him to the kitchen. “I have asked you time and again to call me by my first name when we’re alone. I’ve tried to be patient, but apparently you need some help remembering.”

Miles felt ill. Ever since Stephen had taken him and shown himself to be just like any other Master, Miles knew it wouldn’t stop there and had been preparing himself for ordeals to come. Now that Stephen was about to beat him, however, Miles found he wasn’t prepared at all.

After they entered the kitchen, Stephen swung Miles around. Miles wasn’t sure what exactly the other man had in mind, but as soon as his Master got a good look at Miles’ face, he stopped.

“Miles, are you all right?”

It was the last thing in the world the slave expected to be asked and he could only stammer in response. “I… I’m….”

“You thought I was going to hurt you, didn’t you?” Stephen asked, clearly shocked. “That I was planning on beating you?”

The doctor didn’t wait for Miles to answer. Instead, he abruptly pulled Miles into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, young one. I wasn’t thinking,” He whispered as he tucked Miles head under his chin. “After what you’ve been through, of course you thought I was going to beat you.”

In spite of his hurt feelings over the night before and despite trying all day to convince himself that Stephen Connor couldn’t be trusted, Miles clung to the older man. His body shook in a delayed reaction and Stephen held him until the tremors stopped. Then, to Miles’ embarrassment, he kissed the slave on the top of the head and encouraged him to take a chair at the table.

Seating himself across from Miles, Stephen launched into an explanation of what he’d meant by teaching Miles a lesson.

“Miles, I know when I’m instructing you to use my first name, I’m asking you to break three years of very harsh training,” Stephen explained. “That’s why I’ve been so patient with you about it. It’s more than a common courtesy, though, it was a command. It’s not in your best interest for me to continue to allow you to get away with disobeying.”

“I don’t mean to,” Miles whispered. He felt awful. Last night aside, Stephen had been nothing but kind to him and Miles repaid him by not even addressing him the way he preferred. His mother would be appalled at Miles’ bad manners.

“I realize that,” Stephen responded warmly. “And if were up to me, I’d allow you to become comfortable with it at your own pace. But what happens if you disobey me some other way in public? And someone saw? If they called me on it, I might be forced to beat you. Worse yet, if they challenged my ability to keep a convict slave in check, I might lose you altogether. I don’t think either one of us wants that.”

“No, Ma-Stephen,” Miles caught himself just in time. Stephen grinned at him and Miles smiled shyly back.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” the doctor pointed out. “So, to help you remember, I think you need to practice.”

Stephen got up from the table and rummaged around in the kitchen junk drawer. He came up with a pad of paper and a pen. Placing them both in front of Miles, Stephen tapped on the paper and gave his instructions.

“I want you to write my name out 100 times,” he directed. “And every time you call me Master when we’re in private or when it’s just members of the team, you’ll do another 100.”

Miles wrinkled his nose, but obediently picked up the pen. By rights, Stephen could beat him for his disobedience. This was boring, but mild.

“Remember, this isn’t to humiliate you,” Stephen reminded him. “It’s for your own good.”

The slave nodded and bent to his work with a surprisingly good will. So maybe Stephen wasn’t the paragon of virtue Miles had thought he was, but he cared. For the moment, that was enough.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Stephen watched as Miles bent his dark head over the pad of paper and diligently started writing. The doctor breathed a silent sigh of relief; a disaster had barely been averted. He mentally berated himself. There was no question that Miles needed to get into the habit of addressing Stephen in the way he’d been instructed to. While Stephen truly did understand that he was asking Miles to break training, he simply could not allow Miles to disobey a direct order, even one so insignificant. It was a bad habit for a slave to get into and could have tragic consequences down the road.

While Miles worked, Stephen warmed up some leftover pizza for their dinner. It didn’t take long, but then, neither did Miles’ chore. Stephen hadn’t forgotten the conversation he’d tried to initiate earlier, but wanted to get some food into the slave first. Afterwards, Miles might not have much of an appetite.

At least the whole Master incident and subsequent punishment had broken the ice. Miles wasn’t as relaxed as he’d been around Stephen prior to last night, but he wasn’t flinching anymore either. When they were done eating, Stephen pitched in to help clean up the mess and then stopped his slave from retreating into his bedroom.

“Miles, a moment please,” Stephen said, careful to keep his expression open. He’d already unintentionally frightened the younger man once and didn’t want Miles to get the idea that he was in trouble. “We need to talk.”

“All right,” Miles responded readily enough, but Stephen could see the worry building in those dark eyes.

The doctor led the way to the living room and sat down on the couch. At his gesture, Miles joined him on the sofa, but not surprisingly, chose a seat on the opposite side.

“I want to talk about last night,” Stephen opened the conversation. Sure enough, Miles tensed right away.

“I’m sorry,” the slave apologized. “My body is yours to use as you see fit; I know that. I shouldn’t have acted so… so offended. I have no right.”

“I didn’t buy you to warm my bed,” Stephen assured him. “I bought you because you impressed me and I wanted to see you reach your full potential. But I will admit, I am attracted to you as well.”

“Thank you,” Miles said softly, dipping his head to avoid eye contact.

Stephen shuffled on the couch until he was close enough to stretch out an arm and cup Miles’ chin in his hand. Gently, he lifted Miles’ face until the slave was looking at him.

“You’re more to me than an outlet for my physical needs, Miles,” Stephen stated warmly. “I care for you and whatever we do together sexually, I want you to enjoy it too.” He looked at Miles pointedly. “I wasn’t the only one who came to orgasm last night, Miles.”

Miles looked away, jerking his head from Stephen’s hand, and whispered, “No, you weren’t.”

“And this shames you?” Stephen asked gently. When Miles just shook his head silently, Stephen didn’t press the point.

“Perhaps I’m just being completely arrogant here,” Stephen theorized, “but I would swear that, on some level, you care for me too. I thought we had real conversations, that when you do something for me like bring me coffee, that it’s more than just a slave looking out for his own interests by pampering his Master. And yet when I touch you and try and bring you pleasure, you flinch. Am I such an ogre?”

“No!” Miles’ head snapped up at Stephen’s last comment. “You’re the kindest Master I’ve ever had, you’re educating me and letting me work with medicine. Even, even when you wanted sex, you didn’t hurt me. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” He blushed. “I… if I have to belong to someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Stephen smiled, touched by the confession. “I’m glad too, Miles.” There was one statement, though, that he couldn’t leave unchallenged. “But when we had sex, it was more than an absence of pain.”

Miles’ blush deepened. “Yes, it was more.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

“This is a problem?” Stephen pressed.

It was obvious that this was a difficult subject for Miles, but the doctor knew they had to hash it out sooner rather than later. The sooner they got it out into the air, the sooner he could help Miles get past it.

“I, I was taught,” Miles stammered, “before… before I was a slave, that sharing your body with someone was not to be done lightly.”

Stephen put a hand on Miles’ knee. “And it wasn’t, I assure you. I care for you Miles and wanted to show you that, in the most intimate way possible.”

Seeing the miserable look on Miles’ face, Stephen had a sudden, terrible thought.

“Miles, you weren’t a virgin when you were Claimed for the first time, were you?” He asked, aghast at the idea that this sensitive young man’s first sexual encounter might have been a public, violent Claiming with multiple partners.

“No,” Miles assured him. The blush seemed to be a permanently painted feature on his cheeks. “At least, I’d been with women before. No men.”

Stephen closed his eyes in sympathy, then opened them again as something the slave said struck him as odd. “Women? I thought you told me you didn’t perform well with women, when you thought I was lending you to Eva?”

“I just can’t ‘perform’ on demand,” Miles answered, clearly miserable. “When it’s a man, usually it’s not necessary for me to be… hard. I had girlfriends… before.”

“Is sex with a man against your religion?” Stephen asked.

The doctor had Christian friends and didn’t remember them considering same sex liaisons to be taboo. However, he also knew that unlike the Roman pantheon, where there were many Gods but typically only one version of each one, the Christians had only the one god, but his nature seemed to change with every denomination.

“My parents are… were… part of a very conservative sect,” Miles explained. “One that preached against homosexuality. That’s one reason I went to school in another part of the country. I felt myself attracted to other men and didn’t want them to see. I didn’t want them to be disappointed in me.”

The irony being, of course, that it had been Miles’ parents, or at least his father, that had ended up disappointing him. If Montgomery McCabe had limited himself to legal activities, then Miles wouldn’t have been enslaved in the first place.

“Well, I’m very sorry, my own, that your first experiences with other males were so horrific,” Stephen said. “I hope that last night showed you that it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“No,” Miles responded quickly. “I mean, yes. I mean…” He slumped against the cushions of the couch. “I don’t know what I mean.”

Stephen chuckled. “That’s what I thought. Your body has been out of your control for so long, you don’t know what you want anymore.” He reached for Miles’ hand and twined his fingers with the slave’s. “That’s going to change.”

Miles looked down at their joined fingers as though it were an animal that might turn and bite him. Hastily realizing that might not be the best reaction to have; he quickly returned his attention to Stephen. “How?”

“You need to relearn that your body can bring you pleasure,” Stephen explained. “So we’ll have lessons.”

“L-lessons?” Miles squeaked. To Stephen’s intense pleasure, however, the slave didn’t attempt to pull his hand from his owner’s.

“Yes, lessons.” Stephen assured him, gently but firmly. “My mistake last night was in overwhelming you. I’m sorry about that, young one, but with the state of my marriage, it had been a long time for me as well.” The doctor’s face had a sheepish expression on it. “I won’t make that misjudgment again. We’ll take it slowly, but each set of lessons will build on the one before it.”

“Lessons,” Miles repeated hesitantly, “that build up to… what?”

“Intimacy,” Stephen responded. “We’ll have a lesson every night, increasing in intensity every week or so.” He noted that his answer made Miles close down again. “What? What’s wrong?”

Miles opened his mouth, but shook his head without answering. The doctor noticed that the hand still held in his had grown cold.

“Please, Miles,” Stephen asked gently. “I’d like to know what’s upsetting you so much. Come, my own, tell me. I promise you won’t be in trouble.”

“There’s still no choice,” the slave blurted out. “Not for me. Not about if I share my body or when.”

Stephen didn’t answer right away. He had to admit, Miles had a point.

“You said earlier that what we shared last night was more than an absence of pain,” Stephen said carefully. “I have to believe that there’s some part of you that craves touch from a caring hand. These lessons aren’t to teach you how to pleasure me, but to teach you how to find pleasure in your own body.”

Miles didn’t look convinced, but had been too harshly treated in the past to voice his opinion. Stephen couldn’t help but chuckle at the barest hint of a mulish expression on the slave’s face. He stroked a thumb across the back of Miles’ hand.

“I see what you mean about not having a choice on the timing,” Stephen added. “How about this, if I say it’s time for a lesson, you have the right to deny me.” At Miles’ shocked expression, he clarified. “Twice. You can put off the lesson two times, but the third time I come to you, it takes place.” He reached over and ruffled Miles’ hair. “Otherwise, you’d think of an endless supply of excuses for putting it off and we’d never make any progress.”

The slave opened his mouth to protest, but then his innate sense of honesty kicked in. “You’re probably right about that.”

“And if at the end of the lessons, you’re still not enjoying yourself,” Stephen offered, “then there are other things we can try.” The doctor thought of the counselor Natalie had mentioned. If his own idea of how to heal Miles didn’t work, then he’d give Max Mason a call.

“Really?” Miles looked relieved that intimacy lessons weren’t his only option. Visibly steeling himself, the slave asked, “All right. When’s the first lesson?”

“Right now,” Stephen informed him. “The first lesson is simply to be together, to get used to being close, physically.”

Miles gulped and Stephen could feel the slave’s hand clutch at his own.

“Come here,” Stephen coaxed him, lifting his arm in invitation. “It won’t be so terrible, I promise.

The slave obeyed, sliding reluctantly across the couch until he was pressed against Stephen and the doctor’s arm draped around him in a loose embrace. At first Miles’ body was stiff against his, but as the heartbeats went by and Stephen took no further action, the younger man’s trembling started to ease.

“That’s it, Miles,” Stephen comforted him. “Just relax. No harm will come to you in my arms. Ever. I give you my word on that.”

They sat together for several minutes. At first it was awkward, but with Stephen’s continued murmured encouragement, Miles continued to lose his tenseness. He didn’t exactly melt into the doctor’s arms, but he did become more easy there and that was all Stephen could hope for in this first of their lessons.

“Well done, my own,” Stephen praised Miles warmly after about a quarter of an hour went by. He would have enjoyed sitting that way for a lot longer, but didn’t want to press Miles past endurance. He withdrew his arm from around Miles’ shoulders, telling himself that this was only the first of many lessons to come. “I hope that wasn’t too bad.”

“No,” Miles admitted with a shy smile. “That wasn’t bad at all, Stephen.”

Pleased at both Miles’ confession and at the use of his first name, Stephen released the slave. “You can have the rest of the evening to yourself, Miles. Use it for homework or to watch television, whatever you like.”

“Thank you, Stephen,” Miles replied as he got up from the couch. Just before leaving the room, he turned to look at his Master. “I think I’ll just go to bed early. Good night.”

”Good night,” Stephen responded warmly.

The doctor watched as the slave left the room. He was a little disappointed that Miles didn’t stay out in the rest of the apartment, but for once it didn’t feel like Miles was retreating to his room. Rather, it seemed like the younger man had a lot to think about and, frankly, Stephen didn’t blame him.

In any case, the first lesson was under their belts, so to speak. He didn’t know how Miles felt about it, but Stephen was certainly looking forward to their continuation. According to the school files that Eva had dug up on Miles, the young man had been at the top of his class. Stephen could only hope that the slave proved as an adept a student with this set of lessons as well.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

The National Institutes of Health.

Even before Miles had been a medical student, he’d been in awe of the NIH. It was in the news all the time, how the NIH had swooped down into a medical crisis and saved the day. Once he reached the university, Miles’ admiration for the agency had only grown. NIH was part research and part clinical work; only the best of the best worked there. Miles had been determined that, someday, he would be on the NIH roster.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. He’d made it to NIH all right, but as a slave, not as a doctor.

The reality of NIH work didn’t quite match his idealized ideas of what it would be like. There was research aplenty and more than enough drama with the cases that were handled. Unfortunately, there was also less than riveting lab work, including the fecal smear he was currently examining under the microscope. Somehow, that had never been part of Miles’ daydreams about what working at the NIH would be like.

“Natalie, can I borrow Miles for a few minutes?”

It was with a sense of relief that Miles heard his Master’s voice. Stephen was at the doorway of the make-shift lab they’d set up. The team had been called out to an outbreak at a nursing home and were doing as much of the work on-site as possible. The victims were among society’s most fragile and everyone was working around the clock to try and track its source.

Dr. Durant looked up from her own microscope. She looked as tired as Miles felt; they’d all been working for 36 hours straight.

“Sure,” she said, taking the opportunity to stretch her back. “I think we could all use a break.”

“Thanks, Nat,” Stephen smiled at her, exhaustion clear in his own face.

Miles got up from his seat and willingly followed Stephen out of the room. Fecal samples weren’t so interesting that he was reluctant to take a break. Besides, he’d hardly seen the other man since the case started. To his surprise, he found he missed his owner’s presence.

Stephen led Miles into a small, out of the way room. Once they were both inside, he closed the door and locked it. That action made Miles vaguely worried until Stephen turned around and he got a good look at the doctor’s face. There was nothing but kindness there. Kindness and perhaps a bit of anticipation.

“What?” Stephen asked with a smile. “You didn’t think our lessons would stop just because of the case, did you?”

Miles blushed. That’s exactly what he had been thinking.

“We’re at a lull at the moment,” Stephen explained, walking slowly towards Miles. “I would never compromise the safety of a patient, but it won’t hurt anything to take a few minutes for ourselves.”

The older man engulfed Miles in his arms, leaning into the wall to support both of their weight. His hands came up to rub circles across Miles’ back and the slave felt himself relax at that caring touch.

The lessons hadn’t been as onerous as Miles had feared. It was… nice… to be held. Just held; nothing else. After that first night, it hadn’t been as awkward either. One rare lazy Saturday afternoon, the two men had even stretched out together on the sofa and watched a football game on television. An hour passed before Miles knew it and he was surprised to find that he was actually enjoying the game, even if Stephen was holding him.

“Stephen?” Miles asked quietly after several moments .

“Hmmmm….” the older man sounded distracted. “What do you need, Miles?”

“It’s been eight days,” Miles pointed out. “When… when will we be moving on to the next set of lessons?”

Stephen chuckled and ruffled a hand through the younger man’s dark hair. “Are you eager, my own?”

Miles shook his head. So far, the lessons weren’t too bad, but he didn’t look forward to them either, even if he hadn’t used his pass option yet. “I just want to know, so I can be prepared.”

“That was an estimate, Miles,” Stephen explained. “If you’re not ready to move up to the next set of lessons after a week, I have no problem with waiting until you are.”

“Oh.” Miles wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Stephen’s cell phone rang and the doctor sighed. He pressed Miles close before letting him go so he could dig around for his phone. “Connor.”

Miles watched as Stephen listened to what was being told to him. The older man wiped a hand over his face, as though that would help take away his exhaustion.

“I’ll be right there,” the doctor promised the caller, then flipped his phone shut. He looked at Miles apologetically. “I’m sorry; our lesson is over for the day.”

“Is there a break on the case?” Miles asked, avoiding the issue of the lesson altogether.

“Powell has something, maybe the cause of the contagion.” Stephen unlocked the door and gestured Miles out ahead of him.

The slave was thoughtful as his owner escorted him back to the temporary lab. When they reached it, Stephen patted him one last time on the back and turned to leave.

“Stephen,” Miles called back to him. When the other man turned around, Miles shrugged sheepishly and asked, “What is the next lesson?”

The smile that came over his Master’s face erased the signs of Stephen’s exhaustion. “Kissing.”

And, whistling, Stephen walked down the corridor with a jaunty step.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*

Sometimes life was a kick in the gut.

Over the last weeks, Stephen had been happier than he could remember being in a long time. Work was going well and Miles was settling in. The addition of the slave had affected Stephen in unexpected ways. He’d been aware in a vague sort of way that he was lonely, but hadn’t realized the depth of his loneliness until Miles had come along. The addition of the intimacy lessons was another positive development. Not just for Stephen’s physical needs, but he also found he enjoyed observing the slave as Miles became more comfortable with being touched. That he was the one helping the younger man heal was incredibly satisfying.

And then the letter from his son had arrived.

Jack was on an extended tour of Italy with Stephen’s estranged wife and her father. At first Stephen had been excited to see the envelope addressed with his son’s handwriting. The one sliver of darkness that marred his growing happiness with Miles was the way he’d missed his child. The letter was a poor substitute for Jack in the flesh, but Stephen was anticipating hearing some details of the trip or maybe even an estimate of when they’d be coming home.

Instead, the letter was full of questions about why Stephen hadn’t accompanied them or spent more time with Jack and his mother. ‘Dad,’ Jack wrote, ‘Do you love your job more than you love me?’

A small part of Stephen recognized his wife, Lisa, in those hurtful words. There was no doubt that Jack wrote it, but Lisa must have been egging him on, at least to a certain extent. On some level, Stephen knew that. Mostly, though, he just hurt. Stephen could hear the accusations being spoken in Jack’s clear, child’s voice and his heart just broke.

Like a kicked dog, Stephen grabbed a bottle of whiskey and retreated into his bedroom to lick his wounds. He didn’t know how long he’d been in there, drinking and rereading the letter, hoping each time that it would say something different. When he and Miles had arrived home, the sun was just beginning to lower in the sky. By the time a tentative knock came at the door, it was full dark and Stephen wasn’t quite sure when that had happened.

“Stephen?” Miles asked softly before the doctor could tell him to stay out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Stephen claimed, after clearing his throat.

His voice sounded rough, even to himself, so Stephen wasn’t entirely surprised when Miles came fully into the room. The younger man was a caring person and his worry for his owner overcame his reluctance to enter the Master’s bedroom.

“Are you sure?” Miles forehead was wrinkled as he looked at Stephen in concern.

Stephen ran a hand over his face. “I’m sure.” He turned the tables on the slave. “Was there something you needed?”

Miles looked uncomfortable. “I was wondering,” That adorable blush reappeared. “Were we going to have a lesson tonight? If not, I’ll just go to bed.”

A glance at the clock showed that it was indeed near the time that Miles usually turned in, if they weren’t on a case. It had grown much later than Stephen had realized; no wonder Miles was worried.

Another, deeper look at Miles showed that the younger man’s body was tense and his face awash with conflicting emotions. Having Stephen disappear right after they came home, sitting alone in the dark and drinking, must have been a little frightening since it was so out of character. To approach Stephen under those circumstances and to use the intimacy lessons as an excuse showed an understated kind of courage.

Stephen put his whiskey glass down with a decisive thunk and laid his letter aside. “Yes, my own, we are. Right now, in fact.”

The doctor was seated on an easy chair that he’d hidden away in his bedroom. He’d had it since collage and it was too shabby to have out in the living room, even in his sparse bachelor’s apartment. What it lacked in appearance, however, the chair made up for in size. Stephen knew from experience that two men could fit on it, easily.

“Come here,” he instructed, holding out a hand to Miles.

The slave obediently approached, although he did give the large bed nearby a wary glance. Stephen stifled a chuckle.

“It’s all right, Miles,” he reassured the younger man. “We’re not going to progress any further tonight than we have before. I’m not going to ravish you, I promise.”

Miles stopped when he reached the chair. “Where do you want me to sit?”

Stephen patted his knees. “Here.”

“On your lap?” Miles squeaked. “M-Stephen, I’m too big for that.”

“You let me be the judge of that,” Stephen stated firmly. He held his hand out to the slave again. “Come on, I won’t bite.”

Miles bit his lip, but obeyed. With Stephen’s help and encouragement, he was soon situated on the doctor’s lap, long legs dangling off to the side. If Stephen thought Miles had looked tense before, it was nothing to how stiff the younger man’s body felt in his arms.

“It’s all right,” Stephen crooned. “Nothing’s going to happen to you here. All I’m going to do is hold you.”

Stephen ran his hand up and down Miles’ arm, being careful to keep his movements unthreatening. It had been almost two weeks since the lessons had started and Miles had handled them well, becoming increasingly relaxed even in close proximity to his owner. This was, however, a closer embrace than anything they’d used before.

He wanted Miles to be able to concentrate on the sensations being created in his body, even if the sensation intended from these early lessons was simply that of comfort and safety. To that end, Stephen didn’t try to initiate a conversation, instead just murmuring quiet endearments along with the stroking. It took time, but eventually Miles was relaxed and even willingly tucked his head underneath Stephen’s chin.

The lessons were intended for Miles’ benefit, but something odd happened with this particular session. As he sat with Miles’ warmth in his arms, Stephen felt his own concerns start to melt away. It was still disturbing that his son felt so neglected, but Stephen began to believe that he could fix the situation. If he could help an emotionally tortured slave like Miles find solace in the arms of another human being, he could mend the relationship with his son.

When he found himself nodding off, Stephen realized it was time to end the lesson. He looked down to find Miles wide awake. The doctor smiled sadly, wondering if Miles would ever be able to trust enough to fall asleep while being held.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Stephen stated, reluctantly opening his arms and granting Miles his freedom. “You’re doing very well, Miles. I’m proud of you.”

“I feel like I’m not doing anything,” Miles admitted, blushing.

“Oh, you are,” Stephen assured him. “I know how difficult this is for you.”

“Well, good night,” Miles avoided responding to his Master’s comment. He eyed the whiskey bottle with an obvious look of disapproval. “Can I put this away for you before I go to bed?”

“No,” Stephen answered, watching with a certain amount of satisfaction as Miles’ face fell. He couldn’t help but be pleased that the slave worried about him. “I don’t want you to put it away; I want you to pour it down the drain.”

Miles looked at him in surprise.

“I won’t be needing it anymore,” Stephen explained with a grin.

The slave grinned. “Good, I’ll take care of it right away.”

Miles grabbed the bottle and turned to leave the room. Before he got through the door, however, Stephen called out to him.

“Miles?” He waited until the younger man turned to him. “Thank you.”

The slave looked a little embarrassed. “It was my pleasure,” he blurted out before beating a hasty retreat from the room.

Stephen stared after him. “Well, what do you know,” he said quietly to himself.

The doctor picked the letter up and, with great precision, folded up and slid it back into the envelope. The situation with his son was still a concern, but Miles had given him hope.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*

“Miles, your thoughts are a thousand miles away, child.”

Startled, Miles looked up from the text he’d been staring at. He was supposed to be studying it, but so far had managed to do little other than gaze blankly at the page. Doctor Irene Chimienti had been a teacher for far too long not to notice his lack of attentiveness to the words he was supposedly reading.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Miles apologized. “I’ll do better, I promise.”

The slave was mortified. It was a miracle to be allowed to study medicine again; he shouldn’t be squandering one moment of it. Not only that, but studying one-on-one with the likes of Irene Chimienti was an unheard of opportunity. Even when he’d been free, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine such thing. Master Stephen had arranged it all and Miles was an ungrateful beast to not to give his studies the full attention they deserved.

“Youngster, normally you hang on my every word,” Irene responded kindly. “And that’s a welcome change from the ungrateful louts who fill my lecture hall. It’s not like you to be so inattentive, is everything all right?”

Miles bit his lip and bent his head, not sure how to answer. Stephen Connor had been Irene Chimienti’s star pupil; she’d taken Miles on as a student only for Stephen’s sake. How could he tell her that Stephen was the problem?

If he were being truthful to himself, Miles would have to admit that ‘problem’ was not the precise word to use to describe Stephen Connor. His Master had been the soul of human kindness with Miles and the slave was grateful for the mercy that had placed him in the doctor’s hands. Stephen was a compassionate man and, miracle of miracles, actually cared for Miles’ well-being. Given Stephen’s drive for success, however, nothing would do but to completely heal Miles and that was the true problem.

For Miles’ healing, in Stephen’s opinion, included intimacy lessons.

Last night had been disturbing, on more than one level. To see his Master upset over a letter had worried Miles, especially when the man grabbed a bottle and retreated into his room. That was never a good sign, but was especially upsetting when it was a normally strong person like Stephen Connor acting that way. When hours passed and Stephen hadn’t emerged, Miles had decided to check on him. By that time, Miles knew his owner well enough that he was fairly confident he wouldn’t be punished for approaching him, but it had still been hard to do. It was his Master’s bedroom, after all, and he’d never willingly entered an owner’s room. Even if it was Stephen, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be tossed onto the bed and nailed through the mattress.

What had happened had not been sex, although Miles wasn’t exactly sure what he’d call it. He’d been appalled when Stephen wanted him to sit on his lap, but once he’d been there and Stephen’s arms wrapped around him… it had been good. At first feeling the other man’s strong body all around him had been intimidating, but as they’d sat and nothing worse than some stroking to his arm had occurred, he’d relaxed. Not as much as Stephen had, though. The doctor had started to fall asleep, something Miles knew he’d never have to worry about. Kind or not, Stephen was still Miles’ owner and, after all he’d experienced, there was no way that Miles would sleep in the presence of his Master.

Any Master.

It was after Stephen had released him and when he was pouring out the whiskey that it had hit Miles. He’d enjoyed it. He’d enjoyed being held on the other man’s lap and he realized that it had been Stephen’s voice and touch that had soothed him. Miles had even felt a measure of pride that he’d been able to comfort his Master.

What kind of a slut did that make him?

“Miles, you’re doing it again.”

Guilty, Miles glanced up at Dr. Chimienti. His professor didn’t look upset with him, but she did appear to be worried.

“Dr. Chim-….”

“I know, I know,” she waved off his second apology. “You’re very sorry.” Irene’s piercing gaze fixed on Miles’ face. “Are you sure you’re all right, child?”

Miles looked down at his book and started fiddling with the pages. “I’m fine, Professor.”

When several moments passed by and she didn’t say anything further, Miles looked up. Irene was sitting across from him, arms crossed on the table, gazing at him patiently.

“I’ve been lied to by a lot of young men, young women too,” the professor stated. “Don’t give me ‘fine.’ You’re about as fine as the pimple on my butt.”

“Ma’am, I’m not - ….”

She held up a hand. “Don’t bother, child.” Her face gentled. “Is someone at NIH bothering you? Stephen walks you to my office, so I know that no one here could be troubling you.”

Miles winced at his Master’s name and looked down again.

“Ah, so that’s it,” Irene’s voice was sad. “Miles, I know that Stephen would never hurt you.”

The slave shook his head, but didn’t look up. “Master Connor didn’t hurt me.”

“Then perhaps it was the opposite of hurt?” Irene persisted. “Is that the problem?”

Miles shrugged. Part of him wanted to open up to Dr. Chimienti, but caution kept him from it. The old professor had been kind to him, but Miles didn’t forget that she was Stephen’s teacher first. He didn’t know if he could confide in her about what was taking place between him and Dr. Connor. Besides, he knew that the old woman owned slaves herself; he didn’t know if she would have any sympathy for him.

“Miles, not everything is black and white,” Irene stated gently. “Your parents did you no service if they raised you to only see things that way. The world consists of infinite shades of gray.”

He had nothing but respect for Irene Chimienti, but Miles couldn’t agree with that statement. He knew of one thing, at least, that was pure evil. He opened his mouth to say so, but remembered at the last moment that he wasn’t in a position to speak freely. He snapped his mouth shut and looked down.

“And that includes slavery,” Irene added, as if reading Miles’ mind. When he shot a nervous glance her way, she chuckled. “No doubt if I were you, I would think differently, but the institution itself isn’t inherently evil.” She sighed deeply. “Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who abuse the system and, yes, much evilness takes place. But there’s good too.”

Miles couldn’t help it; he knew his skepticism was written all over his face. Instead of being angry, though, the professor laughed at his expression.

“Yes, Miles, there are good things about slavery,” she claimed. “What about the man who works to pay off his debts rather than wasting away in a prison and learning even more bad habits? Or the slave that serves faithfully for years and is treated like a member of the family?”

When Miles didn’t answer, Irene sighed and patted his hand. “No matter. I’ve had this debate before, with a dear friend of mine who’s an abolitionist.” Her eyes took on a dreamy cast. “Dear, dear Donald. I do miss those arguments and, even more, the make-up sex that followed.” She sighed again. “Now that he’s got Gerald, those days are over.”

Miles didn’t know what to say to that and so remained silent. Seeing him shift uncomfortably on his seat, Irene chuckled. “Ah, there, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“Trying to corrupt him already, Irene?”

Both Miles and his teacher turned, to find Stephen standing in the doorway. The doctor had been grinning at being able to surprise them, but that expression faded as he realized there was tension in the room.

“Did I come at a bad time?” Stephen asked, looking from one of them to the other.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course not,” Irene jumped in before Miles could respond. “False modesty doesn’t become you.”

Stephen only grinned, completely at ease with his former teacher’s sharp tongue. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Miles breathed a sigh of relief as Dr. Chimienti ably distracted his Master. The last thing he wanted was Stephen knowing that his slave had been discussing, even indirectly, their sex life. Irene directed Stephen’s attention to a pile of papers waiting to be graded and then glanced over at the younger man. Miles mouthed ‘thank you’ at her and the professor responded with a wink.

As the two doctors talked about Irene’s latest crop of students, Miles gathered up his texts and other materials. Stephen and Irene were deep in conversation, so it was only Miles who noticed as a man approached Chimienti’s door. The newcomer leaned against the doorframe as though he owned it. Instead of calling out to Irene, however, the stranger took a long, leisurely look at Miles. There was heat and possession in that gaze. Miles found himself down on his knees before he even really thought about it.

The movement caught Stephen’s eye and he broke off his conversation with Irene. “Miles, are you okay?”

“So, this is Stephen Connor’s slave,” the man drawled. “Connor, I’m impressed. Your taste in men has certainly improved with time.”

Stephen’s face lit up. “Chip! It’s good to see you.”

Miles watched as his owner embraced the auburn-haired stranger. As he waited on his knees, he got a closer look at the man. Whoever this Chip was, he was as tall as Stephen, although not quite as broad in the shoulders. There was a distinct aura of the aristocrat about him and that made Miles nervous. The nobility, in his experience, were anything but noble.

“Miles, I want you to meet Dr. Charles Pacer,” Stephen turned to the slave, frowning as he realized that Miles was still on his knees. He put an arm under Miles’ elbow and encouraged the young man to stand. “Chip and I were roommates in school.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Pacer,” Miles said obediently. He didn’t offer the other man his hand, though, since many took offense at a slave’s use of the traditional greeting.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Pacer purred in response. When he held out his hand, Miles had no choice but to take it. He repressed his shudder as Pacer’s thumb stroked his palm just a moment longer than was strictly necessary.

Stephen and Irene didn’t seem to notice.

“Chip is also a professor here,” Irene explained. “And he’s agreed to tutor you when I take my vacation.”

Miles gulped. “Thank you, sir.” In truth, he felt anything but grateful. He’d met far too many men like Charles Pacer.

“Oh, I think we’ll have fun,” Pacer responded. “Besides, I owe Connor for helping me through med school.”

Stephen snorted. “I might have helped you over a rough spot or two, but nothing more than that.”

“Yes, well, it turned out for the best,” Pacer responded breezily. “Of course, I’m not a hero with the NIH; just a lowly college professor.”

“Right.” Stephen rolled his eyes. “Wellstone accepts any quack to be one their teachers of the next generation of doctors.”

“It has its perks,” Pacer admitted. “Regular hours, no emergency trips to track down some pesky virus, pretty coeds.”

Miles wasn’t fooled. The man acted jovially enough, but the slave detected an undercurrent of jealously in Charles Pacer’s voice. Stephen, however, seemed to take what the man said at face value.

“There aren’t many who are tapped to become a university professor so young,” Stephen praised his former roommate. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”

The two old friends continued to trade compliments back and forth, Irene looking on in contentment. For once, the old woman didn’t have anything saucy to say. Miles, on the other hand, became more and more uneasy. It was with a sense of relief that the slave realized his Master was finally ready to leave.

“Until we meet again, Miles,” Pacer said as he walked Stephen and Miles down the corridor. “I look forward to working one-on-one with you.

“Thank you, sir,” Miles responded, knowing there was no other possible reply that he could make.

“He’ll work hard for you,” Stephen assured his friend. “Miles is an exceptional student.”

“I look forward to putting him through his paces,” Chip replied, shaking Stephen’s hand and heading towards his own office.

Much to Miles’ dismay, the ride home was filled with Stephen’s reminisces of Chip and medical school. The slave began to feel sick to his stomach as he realized that Stephen had every intention of having Miles study with the man. Miles could almost feel Pacer’s hands on him already and the thought made his skin crawl.

“Stephen,” Miles began as they entered the apartment. “Is it really necessary to have me study with Dr. Pacer while Irene’s away?”

The other man stopped in the process of hanging up his coat and looked at Miles in surprise. “I thought you were enjoying studying medicine?”

“I am,” Miles assured him. “I mean, I do, but it’s not necessary to go to all the trouble to find a replacement when Dr. Chimienti is gone.”

“It’s no trouble,” Stephen stated, putting his coat in the closet and holding out his hand for Miles’. The slave obediently took his jacket off and handed it over. “Your education is very important, Miles.”

“I know and I appreciate it, Stephen, I truly do,” Miles hastened to say. “I just….”

Stephen finished hanging Miles’ coat and turned to the slave in concern. “What is it, Miles? You’ve been quiet ever since Irene’s, when Chip came in.” He saw Miles flinch at the sound of his friend’s name. “Is that it, does Chip make you nervous?”

“Yes,” Miles answered, relieved that it was finally out in the air.

“Miles, you have to get past this,” Stephen said gently.

Miles’ felt his stomach drop. “Get past what?”

“Your fear of men,” Stephen answered. “I know the past three years were horrific, but not every man you meet is out to hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid of every man,” Miles protested weakly, remembering how he’d felt so secure in Stephen’s arms the night before.

“Then why is it that you warmed up to Natalie and Eva much faster than you did to Frank? Or to me?” Stephen pointed out.

Because Natalie and Eva didn’t have cocks and, in Miles’ hard-won experience, that made them less of a threat. Not that Miles hadn’t been hurt by a woman before, because he had, but it wasn’t the same. Women lacked the physical attributes necessary to rape a man and that’s what counted in Miles’ book.

But he couldn’t tell Stephen that.

“Chip Pacer is an old friend of mine,” Stephen reassured Miles. “You’ll be as safe working with him as you would with me.”

Miles shook his head. How could Stephen be so blind? Maybe it was that he was so good himself that he expected everyone else to be too.

“He’s looking forward to working one-on-one with me,” Miles reminded his owner. “And putting me through my paces.”

Stephen put his hand on Miles’ shoulder. “All right, I can see where those kinds of statements might make you a little uncomfortable, but you don’t know Chip like I do. He’s my friend. If anything, he was complementing me by admiring you.” He smiled reassuringly to the slave. “He meant nothing by it.”

“Yes, sir,” Miles reluctantly said, but he was still far from convinced.

“You’ll see, young one, you have nothing to be concerned about where Chip Pacer is concerned.” Stephen assured him. “Now, what do you want to order for dinner? Thai or Chinese?”

“I’m not hungry,” Miles said softly. “I think I’ll just go straight to bed, if that’s okay.”

“We haven’t had our lesson for the night,” Stephen reminded him.

Miles felt his throat clench. He couldn’t face a lesson. Stephen’s arms, which had come to represent security, would feel like hypocrisy after their conversation about Dr. Pacer.

“I-I don’t want to do a lesson tonight,” Miles stuttered as he invoked for the first time his privilege to pass on a session. He stood and tried hard not to tremble as he waited to see if Stephen would keep his word.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Stephen stated quietly. “Good night.”

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Miles headed towards his room. “Good night.”

“Miles,” Stephen called after him. “I hope you know that I would never for a moment consider having you study with Charles Pacer if I thought it was in any way a danger to you.”

“I know,” Miles told him. The problem was that Stephen didn’t see the danger, but then why should he? The man had never been a slave before; he’d had no reason to develop the ability to recognize a predator of the human variety.

He’d turned back when he heard Stephen’s voice again.

“And, Miles, that’s one.”

The slave sighed at the disappointed tone in his owner’s voice. “I know that too.”

And he disappeared into his room.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~*

He was probably, Stephen reflected, the only man in the United States happy that his slave had argued with him.

At first he’d been disappointed when Miles had used his pass option on their nightly lesson. Not only because Stephen had been looking forward to moving on to the kissing sessions, but also because Miles’ automatic distrust of other men was frustrating. He would have thought a couple of months of care and security would have dispelled some of that innate fear.

As he got ready for bed, however, Stephen realized there was a positive spin on what happened. Miles had argued with him. It hadn’t sunk in at first, but the more he thought about it, the more Stephen realized importance of that fact. As arguments went, it wasn’t much of one, but for Miles, it had been a huge step. That Miles felt comfortable enough to disagree and then stick to his guns about it was a positive sign. Stephen still felt that Miles was wrong about Chip Pacer, of course, but eventually the slave would come to learn that Chip was a good man.

Stephen was in a better frame of mind when he went to bed and, as a result, slept well. He kept up a cheerful demeanor at breakfast, wanting to prove to Miles that there were no hard feelings about passing on the lesson. Stephen couldn’t help but notice that the slave was eyeing him warily while they ate, but when Stephen didn’t chastise him or try to maul him, Miles relaxed.

The ride to NIH headquarters had been perfectly normal and, by the time they separated, Stephen to go to his office and Miles to the lab, the doctor was confident that there’d been no permanent damage to their relationship. As he settled in for his day, however, Stephen couldn’t help but think about Miles’ concerns regarding Chip. Every time he started to read a report, Stephen saw Miles’ face and the worry in those dark eyes as the slave tried to articulate why Chip made him so nervous.

“To hells with it,” Stephen muttered.

He put aside his own work and turned to the computer. With the investigative work they did on their medical cases, NIH staff had access to a variety of databases. Making a mental apology to his old college roommate, Stephen’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he began to access them.

Half an hour later, Frank came in and found Stephen leaning back in his chair, a look of satisfaction on his face.

“Now don’t you just look like the cat that ate the canary,” Powell said, clearly amused.

“I hate being wrong,” Stephen commented, but didn’t elaborate. “Just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t.”

Frank raised one eyebrow skeptically. “You? Wrong? Yeah, like I’m going to believe that.”

Stephen grinned. “Well, not today anyway.”

“So what are you not wrong about?” Frank asked, coming around the desk and sitting on the edge. He took a look at Stephen’s computer screen and whistled lowly. “The H&HS database? What case are you looking at that for?”

“It’s not for a case,” Stephen admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I’m just doing a quick background check of Dr. Charles Pacer.”

“Dr. Charles Pacer?” Frank repeated. “That name sounds familiar. Did he consult on a case?”

“Ah, no,” Stephen answered, flushing. “He was actually my college roommate.”

Frank’s face briefly cleared. “Chip Pacer, that’s where I know the name. You told me a little bit about him. Rich kid, better athlete than he was with the books?”

“That’s Chip all right,” Stephen agreed. “But he did okay for himself. Turned out his forte was plastic surgery; now he teaches at Wellstone University.”

“Wellstone, huh?” Powell’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that the school that Miles is going to?”

Stephen scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Chip is going to be filling in for Irene while she’s on her annual sabbatical to Rome and Miles is a little nervous about it. I thought I’d do a little background research on Chip; see what he’s been up to since med school. Reassure Miles a little.”

Frank shook his head. “You spoil him rotten, Stephen.”

“Like you don’t?” Connor accused his friend. “Who was it that drove five miles out of the way last week just to find a sandwich shop that had vegetarian items on the menu?”

“That was different,” Frank claimed. “If the kid’s hungry, then he’s not as efficient. I was just looking out for the effectiveness of the team.”

“Uh-huh,” Stephen responded, not hiding his amusement at Frank’s dissembling.

“So, what did you find out about your old pal, Pacer?” Powell asked in an obvious ploy to change the subject. “He on the up and up?”

Stephen shrugged. “As far as I can tell. He’s owned slaves before, although he doesn’t have any currently. There’s no real way to tell how Chip treated them, but he’s not on any of the abolitionists’ list of known cruel Masters. There’s also no record of him poaching on someone else’s slave. And, of course he doesn’t have a criminal record. If he did, he wouldn’t be teaching at Wellstone.”

“Of course.” Frank repeated cynically. “So, you going to make Miles go through with the tutoring?”

“I think I have to,” Stephen admitted. “If I’d thought about it more carefully and how nervous he is around men, I would have just had him take a break in his studies while Irene was gone. The way it is now, though, if I back down on this, well, it sets a bad precedent.”

“Yeah, those puppy dog eyes are cute now,” Frank commented sagely. “But a spoiled slave is an ugly thing all around.”

“He’s a man, not a dog, Frank,” Stephen retorted. “It’s not an obedience issue anyway, I just want him to break his pattern of distrusting men.”

“Good luck with that,” Powell stated, suddenly serious and sincere. “If anyone can, it’s you.”

Stephen smiled. Frank put on a good show with his claims that Stephen was being far too easy on Miles, but he was as concerned about the slave as any of them.

“Thanks, Frank. Coming from you, that means a lot.”

A case came up shortly after that, pushing the issue of Chip Pacer to the back of Stephen’s mind. It was a rare situation for them, a medical mystery that turned out to be a fraud. A group of friends had faked symptoms of botulism, thinking to bilk a neighborhood restaurant out of some money. A local doctor had been in on the scheme or it wouldn’t have gotten as far as it had. Luckily, a nurse got suspicious and called the NIH, so the ploy had soon been discovered. The team had actually spent more time gathering their gear and in transit than they had on site. It was frustrating, although there was a sense of relief that there hadn’t been a true outbreak.

With no stressful case to tire them out, both Stephen and Miles were in a good mood when they returned to the apartment. The whole team had treated themselves to dinner together and the warm camaraderie had further mellowed their evening. Once they stepped through the door, however, Miles seemed to tense. Before he could retreat to his room, Stephen laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“I think we have time for a lesson before you go to bed,” Stephen suggested.

He thought for a moment that Miles was going to refuse again, but after a long hesitation, Miles nodded.

“Where do you want me?” The slave asked.

There were a lot of ways that Stephen could have answered that question. Wisely, he chose to limit his reply to the lesson at hand.

“Let’s start by just sitting on the couch together,” he suggested, holding a hand out to Miles.

The younger man looked at Stephen’s outstretched hand for a moment before tentatively placing his own in Stephen’s and allowing himself to be guided to the sofa. It was such a simple action, but Stephen’s heart swelled at the level of trust it implied. Sitting on the couch, Stephen carefully tugged Miles down beside him and settled the younger man so that he was pressed close.

So far, so good. They’d done this part before.

Stephen wrapped an arm around Miles’ thin shoulders and snuggled him close. At first the slave was stiff with tension, but that was nothing unusual. Miles always started out a lesson on edge, although he eventually he would manage to relax. Stephen stroked his hand up and down Miles’ side, keeping up a softly voiced one-sided conversation about the day’s events. Miles relaxed even further and, when Stephen felt the young man place his head on his shoulder, knew that it was safe to move on.

Connor put his hand under Miles’ chin, tilting the slave’s face upwards. Moving slowly and carefully, Stephen tilted his own head down. Miles’ eyes widened briefly as he realized what his Master was going to do, but he didn’t pull away. Stephen couldn’t help but wonder what kind of courage that took.

The kiss was gentle. How could it be anything else, given the circumstances? As he felt Miles’ lips warm and pressed against his own, Stephen’s natural inclination was to deepen the kiss, to plunge his tongue into that unresisting mouth and plunder it thoroughly. He didn’t dare. Being too aggressive during this first kissing lesson could ruin Miles’ trust in him and, no matter what, Stephen was determined that was something he would never do.

Reluctantly, Stephen pulled back. Sometime during the kiss, Miles had closed his eyes and, as the slave realized his Master’s lips were no longer covering his own, he opened them. Stephen was inordinately pleased to see that the younger man’s gaze had become somewhat dazed.

“Was that okay?” Stephen asked, hoping he already knew the answer.

Miles reached up and brushed a finger across his lips, as though he didn’t believe the sensations the kiss had provoked. “It… it was fine.”

Only fine. Stephen stifled a sigh of disappointment, but Miles wasn’t quite through speaking.

“More than fine,” the slave continued softly. “Most of my other Masters, they didn’t kiss me or have me kiss them.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “They had other uses for my mouth.”

Stephen cupped Miles’ cheek. “Not anymore, Miles. This Master happens to like kissing you. Very much, in fact.”

Miles blushed, but Stephen wouldn’t let him turn away. Instead, he bent his head and took another kiss. This time he was thrilled to feel Miles’ lips part as the younger man gasped. It took every inch of self-control he had, but Stephen didn’t take advantage it.

With one last kiss, Stephen released Miles’ mouth. He was pleased to feel the slave lean into him before realizing what he’d done. Miles straightened, but didn’t try to completely pull out of Stephen’s arms.

“I think that’s enough for tonight, Miles,” Stephen stated. “You did very well. I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, M-Stephen,” Miles replied politely as he rose from the couch. “I think I’ll study for a little while and then go to bed.”

Stephen decided to ignore the near-lapse about the use of his name, not wanting the evening to end on a sour note. He watched as Miles walked towards to door. At the last minute, Miles looked back and smiled.

“Good night, Stephen.”

Stephen returned the smile. “Good night. Pleasant dreams.”

Connor knew, after the session they’d just had, that his dreams would be most pleasant indeed.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

“Miles.”

“G’wy. S’eepin’.” Miles batted at the voice calling his name, not ready to wake up.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” the voice addressing him was kind and sounded as though the man speaking were smiling. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable in your own bed, my own.”

It was the use of ‘my own’ that successfully woke the slave. Only one person called him that pet name in that tone of voice.

“Stephen!” Miles exclaimed, abruptly sitting up. The young man went from asleep to wide awake in less than a second. “I’msorryIdidn’tmeantofallasleep….”

Laughing, Stephen put a hand on Miles’ shoulder. The two men were in Stephen’s office at the NIH quarters. They’d just gotten back from a case in Pennsylvania and Miles had tried to study while the doctor finished up with some paperwork. He must have fallen asleep over his books. Mortified, he looked up at his Master, but the older man was looking down at him fondly.

“It’s all right, Miles,” Stephen reassured him. “I told you to get some rest. It wasn’t that long ago that you had meningitis.”

Miles hastily stood and packed up his books, not wanting to delay his Master more than he already had. Stephen needed to rest too. When he was done, though, the slave found Stephen looking at him speculatively. Thinking maybe he’d drooled on himself during his inauspicious nap, Miles tried to nonchalantly wipe at his mouth.

“I have an idea,” Stephen said as he handed Miles his jacket.

The younger man gulped. That wasn’t a comforting phrase to hear from a Master, even one as kind as Stephen Connor. The last idea the man had sprung on Miles had been the intimacy lessons and Miles still wasn’t sure how he felt about those.

Something of Miles’ thoughts must have shown on his face, because Stephen grinned. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“Of, of course,” Miles stammered.

Once he had his coat on, Stephen led him out of the office and towards the elevator.

“I’m thinking, now that you’ve had some time to recover from the meningitis, that it’s time for you to visit the gym regularly.” Stephen stated.

Miles looked at him in disbelief, but waited until they were alone in the elevator car before answering.

“Do you think I’ve gotten too fat?” Miles asked, trying not to sound like he was accusing his Master. It just seemed so odd. Ever since Stephen Connor had bought him, the man had been shoving food at him. Surely now he wasn’t concerned that Miles was too heavy?

Stephen laughed heartily at that and wrapped an arm around Miles’ waist. “No, my own, that’s the furthest thing from my thoughts. You may not look like you’re about to starve anymore, but you’re far from being overweight.” The doctor’s expression turned more serious. “Our job is demanding, Miles. We have to be in top condition, physically as well as mentally, to keep up with the pace that’s often required of us. Now that you’re healthier, we need to work on your general physical condition, build stamina in you.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Miles replied slowly.

It wasn’t that he was lazy or didn’t want to be physically fit. Before being a slave, Miles had enjoyed sports and was naturally athletic. It would be good to use his body again, for more than sex or field labor. The problem was going to a gym. Miles remembered them from his days as a free man. They’d been a meat market then, with as many people there to ogle and flirt as there were those there to genuinely work out. He dreaded to think what that kind of atmosphere would be like as a slave, even with Stephen there to shield him from the worst of it.

“Don’t worry,” Stephen reassured him heartily with a slap on the back. “It won’t be that bad, you’ll see.”

Any hopes that Miles had that Stephen would forget about the idea or change his mind were dashed. With his usual efficiency, Stephen added Miles to his gym membership the very next day and, less than twenty four hours after his Master had first suggested the idea, Miles was following his Master into the gym.

“Good evening, Dr. Connor,” the hostess greeted him at the desk. “I have that identification card you requested right here.” She handed him a what looked like a credit card on a lanyard, which Stephen immediately passed over to Miles. “Have you decided if you want your slave to accompany you to the main gym facilities or did you want him to use the facilities set aside for slaves?”

Stephen turned to Miles. “Do you have a preference?”

It was tempting to just follow Stephen, but Miles spent the majority of his time with free people. As a pleasure slave, he’d been kept somewhat isolated from other slaves, but Miles thought it might be kind of nice for a change to be around people in his own situation.

“The slave gym, please, Sir,” Miles answered, mindful to be more polite since they were in public.

Stephen turned to the hostess. “The slave facilities it is, then.”

“Very good, Dr. Connor,” she responded. She motioned a young man over. “Alec here will show Miles around and explain the rules. Did you have anything in particular that you’d like the trainers to work with him on?”

“Oh, Miles knows best what he needs,” Stephen answered her confidently. He turned to head to the main gym, patting Miles on the arm as he walked by. “I’ll see you in about an hour. Have a good time.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Miles murmured in response.

“Come on, I’ll show you around,” the young man, Alec, said.

Miles turned his attention to his guide. Alec was of Asian decent and wore a multi-stranded braided Chain. He obediently stepped into line with the other slave and allowed himself to be led beyond the welcome desk and into the gym itself.

“This is a really classy operation,” Alec explained. Miles could tell from his smile that the young man believed in what he was saying. “No one will bother you here.”

Miles grinned ruefully. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you’re a little gun shy?” Alec laughed. “Yeah, just a little.” He reached out and lightly fingered Miles’ Chain. “Wow. I’ve never seen one like that.”

“Thanks,” Miles blushed. He never thought a Chain would be a point of pride, but even he had to admit that his was distinctive. “I haven’t had it very long.”

Alec shrugged. “Most of the slaves here are Most Favored Slaves or owned by really rich people. The Masters don’t like having their property messed with, so we have a lot of monitors.” He jerked his head first to a uniformed man stationed along the wall and then to a security camera mounted in the corner. “No one’s going to bother you here, trust me.” He grinned suddenly. “Just make sure you don’t try a little slap tickle yourself.”

“No need to worry about that,” Miles muttered.

“I didn’t think so, but better safe than sorry,” Alec explained and Miles appreciated his caution. “You’re lucky, your Master is giving you a lot of freedom in choosing your own routine. Most of them want us to kill ourselves so we look our best. Body sculpting and all that.”

“I just need some general fitness stuff,” Miles explained. “My job has me working long hours and sometimes under pressure. I need to have the stamina to handle it.”

Alec nodded. “Yeah, I can help you come up with a program to do that.” He tilted his head to the side and grinned slyly. “So that Master of yours is pretty hot. Is he good in bed?”

Miles blushed and the other slave chuckled. “I guess I have my answer.”

The hour went by quickly, as Alec demonstrated the various pieces of equipment, chatting as he went. Miles found that his new friend knew most of the other slaves present and that he’d been right, no one bothered Miles. In fact, there was no sign of any hanky panky and the security personnel kept their hands and their leers to themselves. It was relaxing to just exercise for a while in the camaraderie of other slaves.

Miles was almost sorry to find that his time was up. After saying goodbye to Alec, he went back to the lobby to meet Stephen.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to ask if you enjoyed yourself,” Stephen greeted him with a smile.

“It was great, Sir,” Miles smiled back. “Thank you, Master.”

“Hold on to those thanks,” Connor cautioned him. “Wait until your muscles are good and sore.”

Despite Stephen’s warning, Miles was still flying high when they got back to the apartment. His Master had showered at the gym, but Miles hadn’t been quite that trusting. Not on his first visit. He jumped into the shower while Stephen started dinner. By the time he was done and back out in the kitchen, Stephen had a delicious-smelling stir fry going. Miles automatically started getting plates out to set the table.

“That’s nice,” Stephen commented.

“It does smell good,” Miles responded, already moving on to the drawer with the silverware. “I guess working out gave me an appetite.”

“Not that,” Stephen corrected, smiling gently. “You were humming.”

“I was?” Miles asked, astonished. The drawer was left half open.

“You were,” Stephen assured him. “I’ve never heard you do that before. It was nice.”

Miles considered. “I guess, I just really enjoyed today, Stephen. It was good to use my body again,” he blushed as he realized how that sounded. “I don’t mean like that, like with… with sex, but with something clean.”

He looked up to find Stephen looking at him intently. The doctor moved the stir fry skillet off the burner and very deliberately turned the stove off. Miles gulped as his Master moved towards him.

“Stephen?”

The nervousness in his voice brought a gentler expression to the older man’s face. “I thought perhaps we’d have a lesson before dinner.”

Miles licked his lips. The kissing lessons had been an eye-opening experience. Most of his former Masters hadn’t kissed him much, so there weren’t a lot of bad feelings associated with the activity. Stephen had kept the lessons gentle, so far, but Miles could remember the power in the other man’s strong body. It thrilled him in a way that was very confusing.

He stood still while Stephen stalked him across the kitchen, mesmerized by the frank appreciation in the other man’s eyes. Stephen moved slowly until he stood in Miles personal space. The slave shifted back nervously, his hip catching the drawer and closing it with a thump. He jerked in surprise and turned his head towards it. When Miles turned back, Stephen had one hand to either side of him, trapping Miles between his body and the kitchen counter.

Miles’ eyes widened as Stephen bent his head down, but he didn’t turn away. Instead, he leaned into the older man’s body. Miles felt some satisfaction at the groan his Master uttered as their lips met and melted a little more into Stephen’s arms. The mouth pressed against his became a little more demanding than it had before and Miles opened his lips deliberately for the first time in their lessons, encouraging the other man’s tongue inside. Instead of surging forward, it was a gentle exploration. Miles tentatively touched his tongue against the welcome intruder. He would have pulled away at the sensation, but Stephen’s hands came up and cupped his head, holding him in place.

They kissed for longer than any other lesson, with tongue and without. Some of Stephen’s kisses were short and sweet, while others lingered and came close to devouring Miles. Just when Miles began to get lightheaded, Stephen pulled back. Even then, his Master didn’t seem to want to give up contact, standing with for a few moments with his forehead pressed against the slave’s.

Finally, with one last chaste kiss, Stephen stepped back and out of Miles’ personal space.

“Do you think you can finish dinner?” Stephen asked. Miles was surprised and a little gratified to hear the breathlessness in his Master’s voice. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

“Sure,” Miles responded, a little dazed by the transition from heated kissing to normal conversation. “ But didn’t you take a shower at the gym?”

“I did,” Stephen admitted, walking carefully towards the doorway. As he turned before exiting, Miles could see a prominent bulge in his Master’s pants. “But now I need another one. Preferably, a cold one.”

He grinned and left the room. Miles stared after him a minute, before smiling himself. His Master wanted him. No, Stephen wanted him and, what meant more to Miles, was going to hold himself to his own lesson schedule. Miles knew without saying that Stephen wasn’t going to rush him.

Humming under his breath, Miles turned the stove back on and put the skillet on the burner. It seemed he’d worked up quite an appetite himself.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Stephen wasn’t sure he heard the message correctly, so he pressed the replay button. Sure enough, it was his wife, Lisa’s, voice coming out of his answering machine.

“Stephen,” her voice was thin with either distance or stress. “Jack and I will be returning to the States on Thursday. We’ll be flying into LaGuardia and spending the night with my parents, then flying on to Baltimore on Friday.” There was a hesitation before she continued. “It’s a long flight and Jack will be exhausted. I think it would be best if you didn’t stop by until Saturday. Late morning would be best. Remember, he has Boy Scouts and I’m sure he’ll want to see his friends.”

The message ended without her saying goodbye, but Stephen hardly noticed. His family was coming home.

“Wow, that’s really good news.”

Stephen turned around. Miles was standing in the doorway to the living room, a tentative smile on his face. Stephen felt an answering grin blossom across his.

“Yes,” he responded to Miles’ comment with satisfaction. “It’s very good news indeed.”

Suddenly thinking of something, Stephen gestured for Miles to come closer. Once he was near enough, Stephen pulled the slave into his arms.

“Miles, I want you to know,” Stephen stated seriously. “This won’t make a difference between you and me. Lisa and I are estranged and I don’t see that changing any time soon.”

The young man reacted in a way that Stephen hadn’t expected. He chuckled.

“I know it won’t, Stephen,” The slave reassured his owner. “Most of my Masters were married and it never seemed to affect how much they wanted to make use of me.”

Stephen flinched. Miles’ eyes widened as he realized how his last words had sounded.

“Oh, no,” Miles rushed to say. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re not anything like my other Masters. It’s just that, well, I’ve heard some things around the office. I know that your wife being back’s not going to change anything.”

Stephen sighed and gathered Miles closer. “It was an arranged marriage. There was a time when I thought that Lisa and I had something more, but I think I was just fooling myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Miles said softly. “My dad might not have been the best husband, but he loved my mom.”

“It doesn’t matter if the marriage didn’t turn out quite the way I had planned,” Stephen said. “It produced Jack and having my son is something I’ll never regret. I can’t wait for you to meet him. He’s great kid. Can you believe that when I told him that his mother and I were separating, he tried to comfort me?” Stephen shook his head in disbelief. “He’s a very compassionate boy and he’s so smart, it’s almost scary.”

“He sounds a lot like you,” Miles responded shyly.

Startled at the compliment, Stephen glanced down at his slave. Miles looked back up at him with calmness that spoke of trust. “Miles, I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Miles blinked, obviously taken back by his owner’s comment. “Well, it’s the truth.”

Stephen put a finger under Miles’ chin and raised the slave’s face while lowering his own. The kiss started out as chaste, but Miles quickly relaxed and Stephen took that as an invitation to deepen it. Wrapping a hand around the back of Miles’ neck, he kept the younger man still as he plundered Miles’ mouth thoroughly.

“Mmmmm….” Stephen hummed as he pulled back.

Miles was panting lightly and, although he wouldn’t look at his Master, he did run his tongue along his lower lip. The sight nearly undid Stephen. The happiness he felt at his family’s imminent return mixed with his pleasure at Miles’ growing comfort with physical intimacy. It was an opportune time for an another lesson.

Taking his slave by the hand, Stephen led them to his bedroom. Once there, he was gratified to note that, while Miles did shoot a wary fleeting look at the bed, the glance didn’t last long. In fact, it seemed more of a reflex action than any true concern. Certainly, once Stephen sat himself in the big recliner, Miles came into his arms willingly enough. This time, however, Stephen had Miles sit straddling his lap, so that they were face to face. He didn’t, quite, let their crotches brush together, but it was a close thing. He grinned fiercely at Miles, who gazed solemnly back before smiling himself. The action caused those edible dimples to come out and Stephen couldn’t resist.

“Now, where were we?” He murmured, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Miles’ dark hair. “Oh, yes, now I remember.”

Stephen took no prisoners, kissing Miles more aggressively than he ever had before. The slave was tentative at first, but soon was caught up in the passion, letting his tongue duel with his Master’s. He squirmed on top of Stephen’s lap, causing the older man to smile. There’d been a reason he’d positioned Miles the way he had and his forethought was being rewarded. Miles’ wiggling was causing their cocks to rub together ever so slightly. The slave probably wasn’t even aware of it, but watching for it like he was, every brush brought of frisson of pleasure to Stephen’s body.

Although Stephen had intended to move on to the next set of lessons soon, he had planned on spending at least one or two more days on kissing. Miles, however, had taken to kissing much more quickly than Stephen had dreamed. The slave had said that not many of his Masters kissed him, so clearly the act wasn’t marred by bad memories. Wanting to build on the momentum of Miles’ enthusiasm, Stephen decided to move on to the next step.

Running his hands up Miles’ back, Stephen pulled his mouth off of Miles’, amused when the younger man gasped. His lips, though, didn’t leave Miles’ skin for long. Stephen trailed kisses down Miles’ jaw. As his hands burrowed under Miles’ shirt to find the warm skin underneath, Stephen’s lips made their way to Miles’ neck. Once there, Stephen couldn’t resist a taste and his kisses gave way to small nips and licks as he made his way down to the slave’s collarbone.

When Stephen heard the first whimper, he assumed it was a sound of pleasure. By the second whimper, Miles’ body had gone stiff and the doctor realized that there was something wrong.

“Miles?” He asked, pulling back in concern to look at the other man.

The slave was sitting rigid on Stephen’s lap, eyes tightly closed and hands fisted at his sides. He looked miserable; a far cry from the wanton young man who’d been kissing Stephen so enthusiastically just a few moments before. At the sound of Stephen’s voice, he just shook his head, a couple of tears escaping to trail down his face.

“My own,” Stephen asked as he reached to cup Miles’ face. He was concerned to find the slave’s skin cool to the touch. “Please tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?”

He expected Miles to recoil from him. Instead, the slave moved forward, burrowing himself closer to Stephen. The doctor took the extra weight gladly, leaning the recliner back to settle Miles against him more comfortably. He didn’t try to get a coherent answer out of the young man, just murmured soft endearments and stroked Miles back until the slave’s trembling started to ease.

“Was one of your Masters a biter?” Stephen asked when the trembling finally stopped.

He’d had a chance to think while Miles’ calmed down. Stephen’s thoughts had gone back to the first time he’d taken Miles. A similar situation had taken place, where Stephen had nibbled on the slave during love making and Miles had whimpered. At the time, he’d assumed it was a sound of pleasure, but now Stephen knew better.

“The third one,” Miles answered without looking up, voice hoarse. “He… he used his teeth a lot.”

Stephen kissed the top of Miles’ dark head. “Then I won’t. Ever again. You have my word on it.”

“You, you don’t have to do that,” Miles turned his face up so that he could meet Stephen’s gaze. “Just because I’m a wimp about it, doesn’t mean….”

Stephen stopped him with a finger over his lips. “Yes, it does. I made you a promise, Miles. Nothing we do together will ever hurt you.”

“You weren’t hurting me, exactly,” Miles pointed out.

Stephen grinned, amused that Miles was defending him. “No, I wasn’t. The purpose of the lessons, however, were to show you that your body can bring you pleasure. If you’re frightened of something, you’re hardly enjoying it, are you?”

Miles bit his lip. “Maybe I could learn to like it?”

“Maybe,” Stephen conceded. “But not tonight.”

He kissed Miles again, tenderly. At first the slave was as awkward as the first time they’d kissed, but when Stephen didn’t push, Miles seemed to regain his confidence. The tension went out of his body as he gave himself over to Stephen. As the doctor felt Miles’ growing acceptance, he slipped his tongue past the other man’s lips. There was no resistance, and soon he felt a shy tongue brushing against his own.

With a great deal of reluctance, Stephen sighed and opened his arms. “I think that’s enough for tonight, young one. We both have an early day tomorrow.”

To his surprise, Miles leaned in and stole one last kiss before sliding off Stephen’s lap. He smiled briefly at his Master’s reaction and headed for the door.

“Good night, Stephen,” he said before leaving. “I really am glad for you that your family is coming home.”

“Me too, Miles,” Stephen responded warmly. “Good night.”

After the slave left, Stephen savored the taste of Miles on his lips. He damned the cruel men who’d owned Miles before. How they could see such a gentle soul and try their best to destroy it was beyond his comprehension. That any compassion, not to mention passion, had survived the horrors of slavery was something of a miracle.

Stephen couldn’t help but compare the slave to his wife.

Miles, who’d endured cruelty, humiliation and rape for three years was doing his best to become the lover that Stephen wanted. He fit into Stephen’s life like a hand to a glove. Lisa, on the other hand, had never wanted for anything and yet was satisfied by nothing. If it were up to her, no doubt, there would be no place for Stephen in her life.

He’d promised Miles that Lisa’s return would have no impact on their relationship. It was becoming increasingly obvious to Stephen just how unnecessary that promise had been. There simply was no comparison between the two.

All Stephen had to do was figure out what to do about the mother of his child.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Lost in thought, Miles absently twisted his lab stool. The test he was running for Natalie didn’t require his whole attention and he was distracted. Normally, he’d be spending the down time with his nose in a book, but the slave had far too much to think about.

Stephen had actually stopped.

Last night, when he realized Miles was uncomfortable, the doctor had actually stopped what he was doing. He’d promised way back in the beginning that nothing they would do together sexually would hurt Miles and apparently that extended to past hurts as well. If that weren’t enough, Stephen had also promised that there would be no more nibbling, since it brought up such bad memories for Miles. Stephen had promised and Miles believed him.

Miles had been caught up in the heat of Stephen’s kisses, but the feel of teeth on his skin had been like a bucket of cold water dumped over him. His mind flashed back to Master William and the way he liked to gnaw on Miles, as though the slave were his favorite chew toy. The marks had eventually faded from his flesh, but Miles suspected that he’d never truly forget. It was a miracle that Stephen understood and didn’t force the issue.

Up until that point, Miles had been enjoying the kissing lessons very much. They were unlike anything he’d ever experienced with an owner. In fact, the long necking sessions felt a lot like it had back when he was free. Of course, then Miles was kissing women, girls really, not having gotten the nerve to approach someone of the same sex. He was just beginning to overcome the inhibitions pressed on him in childhood when the arrest had been made. He had to admit that he liked kissing a man, liked it a lot. There was something about having Stephen’s powerful body pressed up against his own that made Miles feel… good.

“You look like you’re a million miles away.”

Miles looked up to find both Eva and Natalie looking at him with fond expressions. The women came arm in arm into the lab and Miles belatedly realized he’d been stroking his lips with his fingers. Blushing furiously, he dropped his hand, but not in time, he realized, to avoid being teased.

“I think Miles has been holding out on us,” Eva commented to Natalie, a gleam in her eye.

Natalie was a little less merciless. “Leave the poor boy alone.” She turned to Miles with a soft smile. “They did look like happy thoughts, though.”

“They were,” Miles responded, surprised to find out he was telling the truth.

“Miles,” Natalie’s voice sounded concerned and he looked at her in mild dismay. The pretty doctor had that crease in her forehead that meant she was worried about something. “You do know that Stephen cares for you very much, don’t you?”

”Yes, of course,” Miles answered easily. His Master had done so much for him, with medical school and even with the damn intimacy lessons. It was obvious that he cared for Miles on a level that was deeper than what an owner had for a simple possession.

“And you know that fact won’t change,” Eva added. Like Natalie, she looked worried. “No matter what else does.”

For a minute, they really had Miles concerned. It was obvious that they were trying to reassure him about something, but were afraid to come out and say exactly what it was. After a moment of trying to figure out what could possibly have them so anxious on his behalf, he figured out what was wrong.

“You’ve heard that Stephen’s family is coming back to town,” Miles speculated.

The way the two women’s postures relaxed told him that he’d guessed correctly.

“Stephen and Lisa were separated before you came into the picture,” Natalie told him. “Nothing should change that much for you now that she’s back.”

“And Jack’s a really great kid,” Eva added. “From the times Stephen’s brought him to the office, it’s clear that he’s very bright and not at all spoiled.”

“I’m not worried,” Miles reassured them. “I’m really happy for Stephen. I know he’s missed his son a lot.”

The two women exchanged glances before looking at him intently.

“You’re not worried?” Eva questioned him. An ex-slave herself, she was intimately aware of how changes to a Master’s life could be detrimental to his slaves.

“Family is important,” Miles stated firmly. “I didn’t know just how important mine was to me until it was too late. I’m very happy for Stephen that his are back in his life again. He’s a good man; he deserves to be happy.”

Eva grinned. “You care for him, don’t you?” She poked him playfully. “Admit it.”

“He’s been very good to me,” Miles claimed, trying to avoid the whole caring issue. “I truly am glad for him. Except, there is one thing I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?” Natalie asked. She pulled Eva to her so that the other woman wouldn’t continue to bedevil Miles.

“If Lisa is Stephen’s wife,” Miles asked slowly, as though trying to work it out in his own mind while he spoke. “Why was she in Italy for so long while Stephen was here?”

”Because she’s a spoiled rotten brat, that’s why.”

All three of them turned to find that Frank Powell had come into the lab while they were talking. If he thought it odd that the three of them were discussing Stephen Connor’s marital woes, it didn’t show on Frank’s face.

“Now that Lisa’s coming back to town,” Natalie explained. “Miles is curious about what happened with Stephen’s marriage.”

Miles cringed. Gossiping about a Master happened all the time. For a slave, it wasn’t just a matter of being nosy, it was often a necessity for survival. Being caught gossiping, however, was a no-no. Luckily for Miles, Frank didn’t appear to be offended. He looked at Miles searchingly and then scrubbed a hand over his face.

“I guess if anybody’s got a right to know,” Powell stated, “It’s you.” He settled himself against a desk and started to speak. His comments were addressed to all three of them, but maybe a little more towards Miles.

“You know that Stephen’s a member of the nobility, right?” Frank asked.

“Yes,” Miles answered. “Although you wouldn’t know it unless someone told you.”

Frank half-grinned. “That’s because he doesn’t act like it. You see, being noble doesn’t always mean you have money. The Connors spent the last of the family fortune trying to cure Stephen’s sister. It didn’t do any good, she died anyway and by then, the family was broke.”

“That’s why Stephen put himself through medical school,” Natalie supplied. “With a military scholarship, right?”

“Right,” Frank confirmed. “He was almost through school when Lisa’s family approached the Connors about an arranged marriage. They’re a trading family, but didn’t have the connections to be able to trade with noble classes. They had the money; the Connors had the name. It seemed like a match blessed by the Gods.”

“I don’t know,” Eva commented. “Marrying someone just as a business deal sounds almost like slavery.”

“Stephen was already married when I met him,” Frank commented. “But he seemed pretty happy with the arrangement. I think he loved Lisa already by then and she was all googly-eyed over him.”

“What happened?” Natalie asked.

Powell sighed. “Remember, Stephen funded his medical school with a military scholarship and he had to repay that with a mandatory tour in the service. At first, I think it was fun for Lisa, sort of like playing house. When his tour was over, though, she expected him to take a position in a nice cushy medical practice, one arranged by her daddy.”

“Stephen wouldn’t have liked that,” Miles stated, his knowledge of his Master’s preferences earning him an approving glance from Frank.

“I honestly don’t think he considered it for more than a minute,” Powell said. “By then Stephen already had a pretty impressive reputation at diagnosing even the most complex medical cases. NIH snapped him up as soon as he was available, right about the time Lisa got pregnant with Jack.”

“Let me guess,” Natalie interjected. “With a baby on the way, playing house wasn’t so much fun anymore.”

“You got it,” Frank nodded. “Stephen loved Lisa and absolutely adores Jack, but you know how driven he is about his work. Lisa wasn’t used to not getting her way and she sure as hell wasn’t used to not being top priority.”

“But you said the marriage was arranged while Stephen was still in medical school,” Natalie asked. “Surely she had to have some inkling of what being married to a doctor would be like?”

Frank shrugged. “I don’t know about that. All I know is that the longer Stephen worked at NIH, the more she seemed to resent it. Hells, the marriage was on real shaky footing by the time you started working here, Nat, and that’s been years ago.”

“It was an arranged marriage,” Miles said slowly. “It wasn’t really her choice in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Frank disagreed. “You haven’t seen Lisa with her father. She’s the apple of Daddy’s eye and I think he would give his little girl anything she wanted. Stephen better be careful. This extended trip to Italy might be just the beginning.”

“And Stephen’s too loyal to divorce her,” Eva commented.

“Could he even put her aside?” Natalie asked. “He has grounds, I think, since she asked him to move out of the house, but it was an arranged marriage.”

“I don’t know,” Frank admitted. “All I do know is that Stephen gave up as much choice as she did in the marriage, but at least he tried to make it work. I just hate to see the woman treat him like a second class citizen.”

“Stephen deserves better than that,” Natalie said, shaking her head sadly.

“Damn straight he does,” Frank agreed. “But just try to get him to see it that way. He thinks he deserves what Lisa’s done.”

“Well, at least Stephen has Miles in his life now,” Eva stated, turning to the slave. “You’ve been very good for him.”

“I don’t know about that,” Miles stammered, blushing. “But he’s been very good to me.”

“Trust us, Stephen’s been a lot less tense since you’ve been around,” Natalie assured him. “I think rescuing you, rescued him, in a way.”

“And now that Lisa’s on her way back,” Frank added. “He’s going to need you more than ever.”

“What can I do?” Miles asked, looking at each of them in turn. “I want to help him, I do. But I don’t know how.”

“Just be you, honey,” Eva suggested, reaching over and giving his arm a squeeze. “That’s all you need to do, is to be yourself.”

On that note, the conversation turned to other things. Miles, however, couldn’t get it out of his mind. He spent the day contemplating his Master’s predicament before finally coming to the resolution that, if he couldn’t help Stephen with his marital problems, then at least he’d try to be as little trouble to his owner as he possibly could.

As a result, later that evening in their apartment, when Stephen pulled Miles into his arms, the slave went willingly. Eagerly even. The two men sat on the couch, kissing, and Miles leaned into Stephen. As their tongues dueled, Stephen put his hands on Miles’ upper arms and laid back, pulling Miles with him so that the slave was stretched out on top of his body.

“Hello there,” Stephen said, nose to nose with the slave.

“Hello,” Miles replied shyly. “Did you have a nice day?” Although they’d been working on the same floor, the two men had hardly seen each other.

“Very nice,” Stephen replied. He kissed Miles on the nose. “This is even better, though.”

“Yes, yes it is,” Miles agreed.

Stephen grinned before taking his mouth again. Miles was sucking on the older man’s tongue when he felt Stephen’s hands on his back. They rubbed up and down his spine before sneaking under his shirt. He moaned when he felt his owner’s agile fingers caressing his skin.

“Too fast?” Stephen broke off the kiss to ask.

Miles shook his head. “No. It feels good.”

“Here, sit up a minute,” Stephen instructed.

Miles let himself be raised to a sitting position. Moving carefully, Stephen grasped the bottom of Miles’ shirt. Not breaking eye contact with the slave, he slowly drew it up and over Miles’ head, tossing it casually aside when it was finally off.

The slave’s first instinct was to cover himself with his hands. One look into Stephen’s loving face, however, and the impulse went away. He leaned forward and kissed his Master. It was almost chaste at first, but then Stephen groaned and Miles reacted by opening his mouth, willingly accepting the tongue that surged into his mouth.

Stephen’s hands roamed over Miles’ bare torso while they kissed, never staying still long enough to tease any one area. They awakened fire in their path, however, as Miles’ skin burned with their touch. He stiffened at first when Stephen pulled off his mouth to trail kisses down his neck, but when they remained kisses and not bites, he started to relax.

“Good,” Stephen murmured encouragement. “No pain, Miles. Trust me.”

Miles buried his face in Stephen’s neck, a little overcome. “I do.”

“I know and I’m honored,” Stephen’s voice was a rumble low in the chest. “I know what this means to you, my own.”

His owner’s hands moved to his chest, brushing first across one nipple and then another. Miles cried out softly at the sensation.

“Too much?” Stephen asked, his hand coming down to rest on Miles’ flat belly.

“Maybe just a little,” the slave admitted.

Stephen kissed him one last time and pulled back, taking his hands from Miles body. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Miles tried not to feel disappointed. “Okay.”

Rising from the couch, Stephen ruffled Miles’ hair. “I claim first shower tonight. I’ll try to make it quick.”

Since Stephen usually let him have that privilege, Miles couldn’t complain. He noticed with some amazement how gingerly his owner was walking and it occurred to Miles that Stephen was sporting an erection.

“He wants me,” Miles whispered as his Master left the room.

And for the first time, Miles admitted to himself as he watched Stephen walk away, he wanted his Master too.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Risks were part of diagnostic medicine. Knowledge and research were tools that helped minimized the consequences of an occasional misstep, but sometimes Stephen found, you just needed to go with your gut. Being Miles’ Master, he’d discovered, was somewhat similar.

Stephen knew he might be pushing things a little, but felt it was worth it. Miles’ responses to the lessons had been everything he’d hoped for and more. This weekend would be the first time they would be separated for any prolonged period and he wanted to make sure that the slave didn’t lose any ground. If he were being honest with himself, Stephen also just wanted a pleasant memory to take with him, in the hopes it would help him get through what was shaping up to be a very unhappy meeting with his wife.

He led the slave into the bedroom, as he’d done several times before during their lessons. This time, however, he eschewed the easy chair and walked straight to the bed. Without dropping Miles’ hand, he turned to face the younger man.

“We’re not going to do anything we haven’t before,” Stephen assured Miles. The slave’s eyes had widened when he realized his Master intended for them to use the bed. “No ravishment, I promise.”

“I know, Stephen,” Miles assured him. Then he smiled wanly. “Nothing we do in a sexual way will hurt me, right?”

“Right,” Stephen agreed.

He dropped Miles’ hand so that he could cup the younger man’s face. The kiss was tender, but deep. Soon, both men were sinking to the soft mattress. Stephen’s hands stroked down Miles’ torso, eager to get to the soft skin hidden by the knit shirt the younger man was wearing. Before he could go about removing it, however, Miles pulled back from his caresses.

“Stephen,” the younger man began hesitantly. He wouldn’t look his owner in the face. “May I? I mean, would you allow me to?”

“What?” Stephen asked when Miles stopped. “What is it that you want?”

Miles finally lifted his head to look at his Master. “I want to touch you. Is that okay?”

Stephen knew he was grinning like fool, but just didn’t care. “It’s more than okay, Miles. Touch me whenever and however you want.”

Even with that reassurance, Miles’ hands were still tentative when he brought them up and placed them on Stephen’s chest. The doctor closed his eyes in pleasure, imagining that he could feel the warmth seeping from Miles’ body into his own. His expression must have conveyed how much he was enjoying it, because Miles’ hands moved to stroke and pet.

“Is it all right?” Miles asked, the stroking petering off, but the slave’s hands remaining on Stephen’s chest.

Stephen opened his eyes and found Miles looking at him with a solemn expression of concentration. “It’s perfect,” he reassured the younger man. “In fact, there’s only one way it could be better.”

While Miles’ watched, Stephen disengaged himself from the younger man’s hands and leaned back. He made short work of removing his shirt, letting it drop carelessly to the side of the bed. Miles’ answering smile was a little tentative, but to Stephen’s surprise, the slave copied his actions. Soon, both men were sitting bare-chested on the mattress, looking at each other. Stephen, with frank appreciation and Miles with a lingering shyness that seemed to be giving way to a hesitant desire.

“You are so beautiful, my own,” Stephen murmured, reaching out to cup Miles’ cheek again. He could feel the warmth in Miles’ skin as the younger man blushed.

“Not,” Miles swallowed heavily. “Not compared to you, I’m not.” His eyes roamed Stephen’s body, before darting away, as if he were afraid that even looking was forbidden.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Stephen suggested, pulling Miles into his arms and kissing him soundly.

The kissing led to more stroking, this time against bare flesh. Soon Stephen had Miles pressed back against the mattress. He thrilled to the sensation of Miles’ hands wandering across his back. Stephen would have liked nothing more than take the lessons to their natural conclusion, but it wasn’t meant to be. Not only had he promised Miles, but it also was the day Stephen was supposed to see his son for the first time in months.

“That’s all we have time for today,” Stephen said mournfully after kissing Miles one last time. He glanced at the clock. “We have to leave for Natalie and Eva’s in about twenty minutes. Think you can be ready?”

“Yes, but I really don’t need to go,” Miles responded, not quite pouting. “I can stay here by myself. I’m not a child.”

“I know you’re not,” Stephen answered, thinking of all the things that could go wrong with a slave as vulnerable as Miles left on his own. “But humor me this weekend, okay? Maybe the next time, you can stay in the apartment by yourself.”

Miles sighed, but either didn’t feel that strongly about the subject or realized that Stephen was under a lot of pressure. In any case, he didn’t press the subject. “Yes, Stephen.”

Stephen grinned at the resigned tone of Miles’ voice. “Besides,” he said helpfully as he got off the bed. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint the girls; I hear they plan on taking you shopping again.”

His comment got the desired the result. Miles’ eyes widened in dismay and he scrambled off the mattress, following Stephen.

“Shopping?” His voice cracked when he reacted. “You’re kidding, right?”

Stephen’s grin widened and he couldn’t help but chuckle. Miles, realizing he’d been had, smiled sheepishly.

“Shopping’s not my favorite activity,” the slave admitted.

“That’s what Eva told me,” Stephen commented. “And after that last experience, I guess I don’t blame you.”

“And you didn’t even see the clothes we didn’t come home with,” Miles murmured, shuddering. He grinned when Stephen raised one eyebrow in question. “Let’s just say that Eva can be really, really devious.”

Stephen grinned. “I’m just glad she’s on our side.”

“Yeah,” Miles responded softly. “Me too.”

With a last kiss and pat on the ass, Stephen urged Miles to his own room to begin getting ready. In short order, both men were showered, packed and headed out to the apartment that Natalie and Eva shared. On the way there, Stephen was able to convince himself that they were just on their way to work or to a case.

It was silly, really. It was a simple overnight trip. On a particularly difficult case, they might go longer than that without seeing each other, even if, technically, they were in the same building. Even so, when it came time to leave Miles behind with Natalie and Eva, Stephen found himself strangely reluctant.

“We’ll take good care of him,” Natalie assured Stephen as he prepared to depart. “Don’t worry.”

“I won’t,” Stephen replied. His glance at Miles was warm and the slave blushed, reminding Stephen just how attractive his young man was. “Don’t take this the wrong way, ladies, but I need to make something clear.”

Natalie and Eva looked at each other before turning to him, question marks in their eyes.

“Yes?” Eva prompted.

“Although I’m giving Miles over to your care for the weekend,” Stephen stated firmly, feeling outlandish saying the words to these particular women, but nonetheless compelled to do it. Miles’ safety was too important. “Your responsibility and privileges don’t extend to the bedroom. There will be no sexual contact.”

“Stephen!” Natalie protested, clearly appalled that he thought such a warning would be necessary. The doctor would have said more, but Eva’s hand on her arm calmed her.

“We understand,” Eva replied solemnly. “I only wish a few of my Masters had bothered to make such a distinction.” She grinned suddenly. “It’ll be hard, but we’ll keep our hands off him.”

Although the joke diffused the situation, Miles blushed a deep red and refused to look at anyone. Stephen couldn’t resist, he grasped the young man gently by the chin and lifted his face up, kissing him tenderly but thoroughly.

“I’ll miss you, my own,” Stephen said softly enough that only Miles could hear him. “Never doubt that.”

“I won’t,” Miles promised.

It was only the ache of missing his son that enabled Stephen to tear himself away. The timing was bad; he’d made such progress with Miles in the last few days and hated to interrupt it. Maybe it was Stephen’s ego talking, but he got the impression that Miles was going to miss him too.

Well, Stephen could hope anyway.

When he last saw Miles, the young slave was standing in the door of apartment, watching Stephen get on the elevator. Natalie stood next to Miles, with a supportive hand on his arm. Eva, on the other hand, had a speculative expression on her face. Stephen bit back a grin. Apparently Miles hadn’t confided in the ladies about the lessons, the way Stephen had with Frank. No doubt the young man would have some explaining to do.

The afterglow of Miles’ growing affection lasted about halfway to his destination. Although Stephen was looking forward to seeing his son, his wife was another matter. Their relationship had been strained at best lately and this trip to Italy hadn’t improved matters any. The reception Stephen had arranged for Lisa upon her return likely hadn’t helped. Stephen’s lawyer had been surprised, but in a good way and was more than happy to make the arrangements. Like Frank, Sam felt that Stephen let Lisa take far too much advantage of him.

Lisa and Jack still lived in the house that he and Lisa had purchased in the suburbs shortly after Stephen had gone to work for the NIH. For years it had been home, but the closer Stephen got to it, the more uncomfortable he got. As he pulled up to in front, he realized why. It was just a house to him and not ‘home’ anymore. For months, Stephen had been without a home, sleeping at the NIH offices more often than not. Since Miles had come into his life, however, ‘home’ had gradually become the apartment he shared with the younger man.

Moving slowly, Stephen got out of his car and went to the door. He raised his hand to knock, but stopped himself short of it. Technically, it was still his house, just as Lisa was still his wife, and he had every right to enter freely. Steeling himself, he went in.

“Lisa?” He called out. “Are you here?”

She came from the direction of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Stephen looked at her lovely face and waited for his heart to constrict with the usual longing and sense of loss that had haunted him since their separation. It didn’t happen. He still found her lovely, was fond of her for bearing his child, but his heart no longer ached for her.

“I thought I asked you to come by later?” Lisa asked irritably. “Jack’s not here yet, he’s still at Boy Scouts.”

“I know,” Stephen responded calmly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed. “I take it this has something to do with why our passports were seized in New York? How could you do that to your son?”

“Ah, then you do acknowledge that he’s my son,” Stephen replied. “You had him in Europe so long, I was beginning to wonder.”

“It’s not every child that gets a chance to visit the mother country,” Lisa said, too quickly and too defensively. She whirled and walked briskly back to the kitchen. “You should have been happy that Jack had such a wonderful opportunity.”

“You had our son out of the country for two months,” Stephen countered, following her. “Without my permission, I might add. I think that’s a little excessive.”

“I’m his mother,” Lisa commented bitterly. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Of course it does.” Stephen sighed. “But, Lisa, two months? I had to take steps to make sure that it didn’t happen again, because maybe next time you wouldn’t bring him back. I’ll have your passport returned to you if you’d like, but Jack’s stays with me.”

Lisa tossed her head back, causing her soft brown curls to bounce. “My father’s looking into the legality of that.”

“When you married me, I was just a med student,” Stephen said with forced calm. “Circumstances have changed.”

“Is that some sort of threat?” Lisa demanded to know.

“More like a warning,” Stephen explained, leaning casually against the kitchen counter and refusing to get defensive. “I think your father has failed to take into account the kind of influence working with an organization like the NIH brings. I’ve saved whole communities, numbered politicians among my patients, even healed the grandson of a Supreme Court justice. Should your father try to interfere with Jack, he’ll find I’m not as powerless as he might think.”

Lisa turned pale, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she looked away. Stephen took the opportunity to study her profile. A part of him felt bad for coming on so strong; he’d loved Lisa for a long time. It had hurt when he realized she didn’t feel the same, but he had thought they were at least united in their desire to give Jack a good home life. When Lisa had asked him to move out, though, even that illusion had been broken.

“So I don’t get a say how my son is raised?” Lisa asked, voice trembling.

“Isn’t that what you did to me, when you stayed in Italy so long?” Stephen shot back. “I didn’t object when you told me that you were going. Told me, I might point out, and not asked. But then you stayed so long, I don’t think it was unreasonable to start to wonder if you were coming back. I don’t intend on going through that uncertainty again.”

The couple looked at each other, Lisa with a glare and Stephen with a steady gaze.

“So you can be off doing your job for weeks at a time,” Lisa stated acrimoniously. “And I’m supposed to understand, but I take Jack on a wonderful tour of Europe and you get spiteful.”

“You can have a divorce if you like,” Stephen offered seemingly out of the blue. Lisa’s jaw literally dropped but he continued as though he hadn’t seen. “Our marriage contract specified that we remain together at least long enough to produce an heir. We’ve done that. If you’re really that unhappy, you can leave and I won’t try to stop you.”

“Really?” Lisa asked hesitantly. She’d originally wanted a divorce when they’d separated, but Stephen wouldn’t cooperate.

“Really,” Stephen confirmed. “But Jack doesn’t go with you.”

Lisa gasped. “That’s no choice at all.”

“Sure it is,” Stephen disagreed. “There’s always a choice; just like you chose not to give our marriage a chance.”

“And how would you manage to raise Jack by yourself?” Lisa asked pointedly. “You wouldn’t give up your precious career to save our marriage; would you really let Jack suffer just to get back at me?”

Having expected this argument, Stephen just looked at her steadily. “You knew I was a medical student when you agreed to the marriage contract and I was upfront with you about what kind of doctor I wanted to be. You thought you could change my mind and when you finally conceded that you couldn’t, you asked me to leave. I agreed, only because of the fact that I did love you, despite of what you thought, and didn’t want to continue my presence in the house if it made you so unhappy. Even so, you started undermining my relationship with Jack. I won’t have that, Lisa.”

When she wouldn’t look at him, Stephen took a deep breath and continued. “As for taking care of Jack, that could be arranged,” he explained. “I recently acquired a slave, a young medical student. Miles could attend classes while Jack was in school and be home by the time Jack was.”

“A slave?” Lisa exclaimed. “You would let our son be raised by a slave?”

“This slave I would, yes.” There was no hesitation in Stephen’s reply. “Miles is a responsible young man, who is intelligent and compassionate. Jack could only benefit by being around him.”

“You’re sleeping with him,” Lisa correctly guessed, clearly appalled. “You bought a slave to replace me in your bed and now you’re going to expect me to allow this little catamite of yours to raise my child?”

Stephen wanted to slap her for using that term to describe Miles, but he restrained himself, wanting to keep to the higher road during this particular argument. The Gods help her, though, should Lisa ever use it around Miles.

“I would prefer,” Stephen emphasized, “that Jack be raised by his mother, as he should be. No child should be ripped away from a parent. But only if I’m confident that I can trust you not to run off with him or that you won’t continue to badmouth me to him.”

“What you’re saying is that you’ll be off fucking your pleasure slave whenever you want and I’ll be here at home, minding the house and raising our son,” Lisa concluded. “Who’s really the slave here?”

“It could have been so different,” Stephen stated sadly. “I tried, Lisa. I loved you for a long time, but you didn’t love me back. If you had, you would have known how important medicine is to me and supported me, not made me choose between being a doctor and being your husband. You demanded I move out and I complied. Now I’m telling you to stop turning our son against me or you’ll get more freedom than you bargained for.

“I suppose I could buy a slave to fill my bed,” Lisa mused aloud, her face taking on a dreamy look. “After all, you have one.”

The very idea sent chills up Stephen’s spine. Not that he begrudged Lisa some physical affection, but he could not bear the thought of a man not of his choosing having a hand in raising his son.

“Absolutely not,” Stephen ordered. He wasn’t used to utilizing his power as a husband. It felt out of character, but this was an important issue to him. “A woman, I wouldn’t mind, but I’ll not have another man in this house. Not when my son lives here.”

“But Stephen,” Lisa protested, eyes welling with tears, “I don’t follow Sappho’s way.”

“Then you’d better learn or get used to an empty bed,” Stephen replied firmly. He didn’t let himself be swayed by her tears, remembering how it had ripped him up inside to move out and away from her in the first place.

Lisa’s expression turned contemplative. “Maybe we should have another child. I was happiest when Jack was a baby.”

Stephen was appalled. “I refuse to bring another child into the world just because you’re bored.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Look, if you want to be around children, I’m all for that. In fact, I met a woman during a case a few weeks ago that runs a crisis nursery. I’ll email you her phone number and you can arrange to do some volunteering.”

He’d often wondered if part of their problem had been that Lisa had never had to work for a living; had never had to earn anything of her own. Perhaps seeing families with a real need would open her eyes to how cushy she’d had it.

“I’m not sure about that Stephen,” Lisa hesitated. “I don’t know if I’d want to work with other people’s children.”

Stephen sighed. This conversation was going about as well as he’d expected. In other words, like crap. “It’s up to you, Lisa, I know it doesn’t seem that way, but I’m not trying to run your life.”

She laughed bitterly and just glared at him.

“Truly, I’m not,” Stephen asserted. “At least, only where Jack is concerned.

“Dad!”

Jack’s entry effectively finished the conversation and Stephen turned joyfully to greet his son. It was a good thing he was still standing by the kitchen counters, because he needed their support as his ten year-old launched himself at him. Stephen caught the child and laughed out loud as he enveloped Jack in a big bear hug.

“I missed you, Jack,” Stephen told the youngster, his voice catching as he spoke.

“I missed you too, Dad,” Jack exclaimed, lifting his shining face to meet his father’s gaze. “It was so awesome. We saw gladiators and everything.”

Stephen lifted one eyebrow as he looked at his wife. “Gladiators? Really.”

“It was a matinee,” Lisa hastened to explain. “The family version. No blood.”

“It was so cool,” Jack expounded. “There were guys with swords and they whacked at each other and when the swords met, they made this clanging noise. Grandfather bought me a sword, want to see it?”

“I’d love to,” Stephen responded, gently putting Jack onto the floor. He gave one last look at Lisa as he followed Jack out the back door. His wife had a pensive look on her face. Clearly, their conversation had given her a lot to think about and, for the moment, that was the best that Stephen could hope for.

Jack led him to the garage and, once there, darted inside for a moment. When he came back, he had a long length of shaped wood in his hand.

“Mom won’t let me play with it in the house.”

“I should hope not,” Stephen said firmly. “Actually, son, you shouldn’t play with it at all.”

“I shouldn’t?” Jack asked, face wrinkled in confusion. “But, Dad, it’s a toy.”

“No it’s not,” Stephen corrected him. He gently took the wooden sword from the boy. “This is a bona fide practice blade, Jack. You should treat it with the same respect that you would live steel.”

Stephen was no slouch with a sword, although he didn’t boast or show off about it. Seeing the glow of awe in his son’s eyes, though, at his display of knowledge, he decided it was time to start giving the boy some instruction. Duels weren’t as common as they used to be, but they still happened, particularly at their social level.

The next hour was thoroughly enjoyable for Stephen, as he guided Jack through the bare basics of sword fighting. It was a rare opportunity for him to spend one-on-one time with the child, for once not being interrupted by work. The sword work also let them get used to each other again in a natural way, avoiding any potential awkwardness from their prolonged separation.

Finally, however, Stephen called a halt and the two sprawled on the lawn under the shade of a tree. For a while, simply lying there and breathing was enough, but eventually it dawned on Stephen that there was an undercurrent of tenseness in Jack’s silence. Lifting himself up on one elbow, he looked at the boy.

“Jack, is everything all right?”

The ten year-old was shredding a twig with his fingers. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” Stephen pressed.

The twig shredding stopped, but not in time to save the unfortunate little stick.

“Why didn’t you come with us?” Jack asked, his eyes full of the hurt that only children could possess. “Don’t you love us anymore?”

Stephen sat up and wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Of course I love you,” he addressed the last question first. “More than anything else in the world and I always will.”

“Then why didn’t you come with us?” Jack repeated the question.

There were a lot of things that Stephen could have told him, starting with the fact that he hadn’t been invited. He wanted to take the high road, though. It wouldn’t be fair to chastise Lisa for undermining him with Jack and then turn around and do the same thing to her.

Even if she deserved it.

“Look, Jack,” he began.

“I know, your job,” his son finished for him, head down as he contemplated the grass. “You had to work.”

“You’re my son and I love you,” Stephen stated firmly. “More than anything else in the world. More than your mother, more than the Gods, and certainly more than my job.” Stephen sighed. “I thought I explained before, when I moved out, that whatever happens between your mom and me, it doesn’t affect how I feel about you.”

“You won’t stop loving me, the way you stopped loving Mom?”

“There’s a part of me that will always love your mother,” Stephen explained, trying to smile around the pain in his heart. His son shouldn’t be having these kinds of questions; no child should. “After all, she gave me you, the most important thing in the world. But the love between mothers and fathers is different than the love between a father and his child. Feelings between husband and wife can change, but there’s a bond between parent and child than can never be broken.” He looked at Jack intently. “Do you understand that?”

”I guess so,” Jack lifted his head in seeming reluctance. “So you’ll always love me?”

Stephen nudged him with his shoulder. “You bet. You’re stuck with me forever, buddy.”

Jack’s smile was tentative, but held a world of sweetness in it. “That’s okay, Dad. I kind of like being stuck with you.”

The boy snuggled under Stephen’s arm and the two sat that way for a long time. Finally, though, a chill breeze started and Stephen realized that they’d have to go in. Before they did, there was one more thing he needed to explain, out here, where it was clean and devoid of Lisa’s influence.

“Jack, there’s something I have to tell you,” Stephen said. Seeing the apprehension in his son’s face, he hastened to explain. “While you were gone, I bought a slave.”

”A gladiator?” Jack asked, really having been taken with the warriors while he was touring Rome.

Stephen chuckled. He couldn’t think of anything more disparate from the gentle medical student than a gladiator.

“No, not a gladiator,” he corrected his son. “A medical student. Miles is living with me and comes to work with me. When he finishes his schooling, he’ll be able to help me with my job.”

”He’s not a little kid, is he?” Jack asked suspiciously. It probably was wrong of him, but that made Stephen feel a little good, that his son might be jealous of him.

“No, he’s a grown up,” Stephen responded, tempted to qualify that statement to indicate that Miles was barely an adult. “I think you’ll like him.”

“Jason Olson’s dad has a slave that stays at their house,” Jack commented, a look of worry in his eyes. “Jason says that she dresses up in his mom’s clothes and his mom has to wait on her like a servant. Nessa even slapped Jason’s mom once when her coffee wasn’t hot enough.”

“Miles is nothing like that,” Stephen reassured his son. “He’s not going to mistreat you or your mom. He’s not the type and, even if he was, I wouldn’t let him.”

“You like him a lot, don’t you?” Jack asked shrewdly.

Stephen blinked. “Yes, I do. Very much so.”

Jack was silent for a moment and then nodded decisively. “Good.”

”Good?” Stephen repeated, nonplussed.

“You’re alone too much,” Jack responded, sounding far older than his years. “I have Mom and Mom has me, but you don’t have anybody. I’m glad you do now.”

“Me too,” Stephen whispered hoarsely, all he could get out past the lump in his throat.

He’d hoped Jack would accept the idea of Miles in his life, but this exceeded his wildest expectations. Like he had when Stephen had broken the news of his separation, Jack had surprised him with the depth of his compassion.

Stephen got up and offered Jack a hand up before stooping to brush the grass and dust from his pants. Slinging an arm across his son’s shoulders, he led the boy back to the house.

“I want to meet Miles,” Jack stated. “He sounds nice.”

“He is,” Stephen assured him. “I’ll bring him some time when I come.”

“Good,” Jack replied. Then, with the emotional resiliency of the child he was, bounced ahead of his father. “Come on, Dad. Mom said she was going to make cookies today. Italy was okay, I guess, but they don’t have chocolate chip cookies. Not as good as Mom makes anyway.”

Bemused by Jack’s reaction to the news about Miles, Stephen could only shake his head in wonder as he followed his son into the house. If only a little of Jack’s compassion and enthusiasm would rub off on his wife.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Miles turned his attention from the elevator his Master had just left on and found Natalie and Eva looking at him like a pair of cats that had just cornered a poor, unsuspecting mouse. He swallowed heavily, remembering their interest the morning after his Master had taken him for the first time. The two women had been caring, but it had been so very awkward talking to them about sex. He dropped his eyes, damning the blush that always seemed to appear at exactly the wrong moment.

“Miles has some explaining to do,” Eva said with a grin.

“Well,” Natalie responded as she drew Miles into the apartment and shut the door behind him. “We need to fortify ourselves first and there’s one thing that’s an absolute necessity for a conversation like this one. It’s a little early in the day for it normally, but I think we can make an exception.” She grinned. “Let’s break out the good stuff.”

Several minutes later, Miles found himself setting cross-legged on the floor, sharing a quart of Chunky Monkey with his hostesses, even though it was only the middle of the morning. They were on the floor too and each had a spoon, dipping into the communal ice cream container at will as Miles explained the new intimacy between him and his Master.

“These lessons Stephen’s been giving you,” Natalie asked slowly around a mouth of ice cream. “You don’t mind them?”

“At first I didn’t know what to think of them,” Miles admitted. “I still don’t, really. I just know that Stephen wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

“And maybe it feels good?” Eva asked softly.

Miles blushed again and ducked his head, reaching for another spoonful of ice cream as a way of avoiding the question.

“There’s nothing wrong with feeling good,” Eva went on to add. “Trust me, I know that a slave has to grab any chance at pleasure that comes along.”

“But shouldn’t there be more to it than just pleasure?” Miles lifted his face to look at the former slave. “I was taught that sex was more than just the body’s release.”

“And can you honestly say you don’t care for Stephen?” Natalie asked softly. She rested one hand on Miles’ knee as she looked at him intently.

“He’s my Master,” Miles answered, a little bitterness creeping into his voice. “My owner. He purchased me, probably even has the receipt to prove it.”

“That’s true,” Eva agreed. “Still doesn’t mean you can’t care for him.”

Miles deflated. “I don’t know what I feel.”

The slave felt like a traitor, but to what? On one hand, Natalie was right, how could he not care for Stephen Connor? His Master a good man who’d been nothing but kind. Miles was well fed; free from pain, and, most importantly, allowed to pursue his beloved calling to be a doctor. He hadn’t had it so good since he was free. Unfortunately, that was the problem. He wasn’t free and finding any sort of contentment as a slave felt like he was being a traitor to the beliefs he’d been raised with.

“Well, it’s not something you have to solve today,” Natalie commented. “Just try to keep an open mind, okay?”

“Okay,” Miles promised hesitantly. “I’ll try to anyway.”

“That’s all anyone can ask,” Eva stated with satisfaction. She got to her feet and offered Natalie a hand up. “And since we’ve come to the conclusion that we’re not going to be able to solve Miles’ problem today, maybe we should go out and have some fun.”

Miles got up without any assistance, bending to pick up the now-empty Chunky Monkey container. “What did you have in mind?”

Natalie and Eve looked at each other and grinned.

“Shopping,” they said in unison.

Miles felt himself blanch. “Shopping?”

“Yes, we want to take advantage of having a big, strong man with us to carry all the packages,” Natalie explained. “We both need a new spring wardrobe.”

“Okay,” Miles responded carefully. It didn’t sound so bad if the ladies were going to be the ones trying on clothes. “I can do that.”

“That’s not all; we’ll need your opinion too,” Eva added mischievously. “When we try outfits on, we’ll need a man’s opinion on whether or not they make our butts look fat.”

Since neither lady in question had a butt anywhere near fat, Miles knew he was being teased. Feeling greatly daring, his confidence bolstered by their support in the previous conversation, he managed to tease back.

“You mean as fat as they look now?” He asked innocently. “Or fatter?”

Natalie’s laughter rang out and, after a moment of surprise, Eva chuckled too.

“You’re learning,” Eva stated proudly, linking her arm with Miles’ as she started directing him towards the door. “See, we don’t bite, either one of us.”

“I know,” Miles responded. “I appreciate your friendship, both of you. Being able to talk with you about things helps a lot. Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” Natalie assured him. “You’re not alone, you need to remember that.”

Miles smiled sadly. He’d learned that being a slave meant always being alone.

“And no shopping, promise,” Eva assured him. “I wouldn’t put you through that again. At least, not so soon since the last time.”

True to that promise, the afternoon contained no shopping whatsoever. Instead, the three went out to lunch and then took in a matinee. Miles hadn’t been in a movie theater for three years and was amazed at how far special effects had come in that time. Sitting in the darkened theater, the smell of popcorn heavy in the air, he realized that no one could see his slave collar. It felt oddly normal, to be out with friends and not have a care in the world otherwise.

After the movie, they went for a long walk in the park, enjoying the sunshine. Dinner was a light one back at the apartment, with all three of them sharing the preparation duties. When evening came, he was allowed to retreat to the guest room in order to study. Miles had a feeling the two women had some serious cuddling in mind, otherwise they probably would have made him stay out in the living room. Sure enough, when decided to call it a night, Miles could hear the rustling of sheets and soft murmurs of pleasure coming from the main bedroom.

Despite the pleasant day and comfortable bed, sleep was hard to come by. The noises coming from the women sounded a lot like the noises he and Stephen had been making during the last few lessons. The comparison unsettled him.

As Miles wiggled in the bed, trying to get comfortable on the strange bed, his eyes kept wandering to the door. His eyelids would droop and almost close, popping open at the last minute as though he were waiting for something. Eventually, it occurred to him that waiting was exactly what he was doing. Stephen usually checked on him at least once at home, standing in the doorway and just looking at Miles silently. Miles always feigned sleep, but it had gotten so he waited for those silent visits. Apparently, he couldn’t sleep without them.

Sitting up, Miles punched his pillow. Theoretically, he was fluffing it up, but if he were being truthful with himself, he was just working out some frustration. He could sleep without those visits from Stephen, truly he could. He didn’t need his Master there to feel safe and secure enough to rest, that was just ridiculous.

But it still took him another hour to drift off.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Stephen was pensive as he returned to Natalie and Eva’s apartment to collect Miles. Seeing Jack had been wonderful, especially after that awful letter he’d received that Jack had written while still in Europe. Given how eager the boy had been to see him and how little resentment he seemed to have against his father, Stephen was more convinced than ever that Lisa had been behind the hurtful words. It made him feel a little bit better about confronting her.

The whole situation made Stephen think about family and how important it was. His marriage was messed up, but at least he did still have access to his family. Not so Miles. The way the slave had understood Stephen’s need for his son, showing absolutely no fear or jealousy at all, indicated that Miles understood the importance of family too. The younger man rarely spoke of his own loved ones, but the wistful tone in his voice whenever the subject came up in conversation proved that they were still on his mind.

“Hello, Stephen,” Eva greeted him as she opened the apartment door for him. “Did your visit go well?”

“Very,” he responded with satisfaction as he entered the home she shared with Natalie. “And how did your weekend go? Did Miles have a good time?”

Stephen tried to be subtle in looking around the apartment for the young man in question, but by Eva’s chuckle, he’d been more obvious than he hoped.

“Don’t worry, Miles missed you too,” she assured him as she closed the door behind him.

Connor grinned sheepishly. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a little,” Eva teased him gently.

“Where is Miles, anyway?” Stephen asked, trying to change the subject. Not that he was anxious to see Miles or anything of that sort.

“He was getting a little antsy, so Natalie asked him to go on a walk with her,” Eva explained. “You got back a little earlier than we were expecting.”

Stephen sighed, trying to not be disappointed that Miles wasn’t there to greet him. “Yes, well, Jack had a lot of homework that needed to get done before he went back to school. Since I was being a distraction, I left a little early.”

“Speaking of homework and distractions,” Eva commented, “we took Miles to a movie yesterday, but today he tried to keep his nose buried in a book. You’re not really that much of a taskmaster, are you?”

“I’m not,” Stephen claimed, “and neither is Irene. I think Miles pushes himself harder than anyone else possibly could.”

“Maybe he’s trying to stuff as much learning in as he can, before it’s taken away,” Eva suggested. Seeing the look on Stephen’s face, she quickly offered an alternative to her own theory. “He could also be trying to make up for lost time.”

It was an almost perfect opening.

“Eva, I was hoping I could ask you another favor,” Stephen asked. “It’s for Miles.”

A small frown marred the petite woman’s face. “For Miles? Sure. I just hope there’s nothing wrong.”

“No, nothing wrong,” Stephen reassured her. “I just was thinking of family and that maybe Miles might like to contact his. Would you help me track them down?”

“I don’t know, Stephen,” Eva hesitated. “For a slave, family is a touchy subject. Miles may not be ready to try and contact them yet. He might not ever be ready.”

“I promise that I won’t force Miles to get in touch with them,” Stephen vowed. “I’ll leave it totally up to him. I just want him to know it’s an option.”

Eva wavered a moment longer and then nodded. “All right, I’ll see what I can dig up. I’ll warn you, though, that high profile convict slaves like his parents won’t be easy to track down.” She smiled grimly. “The Empire wouldn’t want Abolitionists to swoop down for a rescue purchase, give them a chance to survive their slavery or anything like that.”

Stephen nodded his understanding. “Just do what you can.”

Their conversation turned to more mundane things. Stephen hovered by the window. They were several stories up, but he was still able to recognize Miles’ tall form as Natalie and the slave came strolling around the corner. He grinned, looking forward to having the young man with him again.

“Oh, you are so gone,” Eva teased.

Stephen reluctantly turned from the window to face the other woman. “Excuse me?”

“Did you even hear the last thing I said?” She asked.

After a moment of trying, Stephen had to admit that he couldn’t. “Sorry. I guess I was a little distracted.”

“Just a little,” she agreed, winking at him. Her face grew serious. “Miles told us about the lessons.”

“I thought he might,” Stephen admitted. “Eva, you know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t lay a finger on him if I truly thought it were unwelcome.”

“I know,” she assured him, then sighed. “Miles wasn’t born a slave, Stephen, and he’s had an especially rough time of it since his Chaining. He’s had to build up some pretty impressive emotional walls just to survive.”

“Am I wrong to try and break them?” Stephen asked frankly.

Eva paused before answering and Stephen was glad she was giving the question the consideration it deserved. She thought about it so long, in fact, that Stephen thought Miles and Natalie would have time to get all the way to the apartment before she was ready to comment.

“I don’t think so,” she finally answered. “Unless, of course, you’re planning on selling him if you get bored with him.”

“Never.”

“Then I think you’re doing the right thing,” Eva stated. “Miles doesn’t seem like the type to me who can survive without human touch and I’m not talking about the sanctioned rape that occurs with a pleasure slave. You’re teaching him to remember good touch and caring. That can only be positive in my book.”

“Thank you,” Stephen replied, relief coursing through him. If Eva, an ex-slave, thought he was on track, then surely he was.

Eva looked like she was going to say more, but the apartment door opened. Natalie shooed Miles in first and it was obvious that the young man had seen Stephen’s SUV outside. The slave’s eyes locked on to Stephen almost instantly and Miles’ face lit up with the biggest smile Stephen had ever seen him have.

Just as suddenly, however, Miles’ grin dimmed. It was as though the slave realized his eagerness to see his Master was giving something away.

“Stephen, you’re back,” Miles said awkwardly. “I hope you had a good visit.”

“I did, my own, a very good visit,” Stephen responded, crossing the room where Miles stood just inside the door. “I’m glad to be back, though.”

“You are?” Miles asked, holding his ground as Stephen approached. The older man could clearly see that he was nervous.

“Yes, I am.” Stephen reached Miles and pulled the slave into his arms. Needless of their female audience, he kissed Miles thoroughly, not stopping until he felt the young body relax against his own. Breaking away, he looked at Miles’ dazed eyes in satisfaction. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“I’d tell you two to get a room,” Natalie’s voice interrupted them, “but I’m afraid that you’d take ours.”

Reluctantly, Stephen shifted his focus from Miles to his friends. “Thanks for letting Miles hang out with you this weekend.”

“It was our pleasure and I mean that,” Natalie responded easily. She’d wrapped her arm around her lover’s waist and the two women were looking at them with twin expressions of approval. “Miles is a joy to have visit; he’s welcome any time.”

Stephen smiled. “Forgive me if I don’t take you up on that too often. I’ve gotten kind of used to having him around.”

“I bet,” Eva murmured, grinning cheekily at them.

Miles groaned in embarrassment and hid his face in Stephen’s shoulder. Stephen chuckled and kissed the top of his head. “Come on, my own. Grab your gear. The sooner we get out of here, the less time she has to tease you.”

With more thanks, the two men left shortly thereafter. They knew they’d seen their colleagues at work the next morning anyway. The ride home was filled with conversation, as each man told the other how he’d spent his weekend. Miles asked all sorts of questions about Stephen’s time with Jack, but Stephen was careful not to tell the slave very much about his confrontation with Lisa. Miles was having a hard time as it was, Stephen didn’t want him worried about a difficult Master’s wife on top of it all.

As they approached their own apartment, both men wound down. Stephen reached over and took Miles’ hand. He was pleased that Miles gripped it instead of letting his hand just lie there limp. He knew without a doubt that Miles had been happy to see him, but maybe there was more to it than that.

It was all Stephen could do not pounce Miles as soon as they got inside the apartment. As much as his body craved closer contact with the young man, however, Stephen knew that kind of action would be counterproductive. Maybe someday Miles would be secure enough to be pounced, but they weren’t there yet. Not by a long shot.

Both men went about the mundane chores of unpacking from the respective overnight trips. Stephen had grabbed a quick dinner on the drive back from his old house and he knew that Miles had eaten with the ladies, so preparing a meal was a chore they didn’t have to worry about. He found himself monitoring Miles’ progress more than he normally would and, when he observed Miles shyly watching him back, realized he’d given the slave enough space.

“Miles,” Stephen said as he poked his head into Miles’ bedroom and found the younger man putting away his schoolwork, “when you’ve got a handle on that, please come to my room. We’ve got a lesson to do yet tonight.”

Stephen wondered how long it would take Miles to come to his room. Would the slave dawdle, showing his reluctance, or would he come right away? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. He’d barely reached his room and walked over to the bed before he heard the quiet pad of Miles’ feet behind him.

Turning, Stephen let all of his pleasure in Miles’ eagerness show in his face. Holding out a hand to the slave, he beckoned him closer. “Come here, my own.”

Miles smiled shyly, but Stephen was glad to see that he didn’t hesitate. Miles willingly let himself be pulled into Stephen’s arms and even turned his face up to receive a kiss.

“I missed you, young one,” Stephen murmured, nuzzling the dark hair. “Missed this.”

“Me too,” Miles responded, then added quickly, “I mean, I missed you.”

Stephen smiled at the quick clarification. No, Miles wouldn’t be willing to admit missing the lessons, not yet. Well, he’d just have to see what he could do to change that reluctance.

Drawing Miles down onto the bed with him, Stephen started kissing his slave more thoroughly. He deliberately didn’t give Miles much of a chance to breathe in-between, not wanting to give the younger man too much time to think.

It wasn’t long before the kisses became deeper and more intense, each one melting into the next. Caresses became lingering strokes and Stephen’s hands burrowed underneath the layer of Miles’ clothing until he found bare skin. He grinned fiercely at the gasp that touch invoked. At that sound, Stephen sat up a little in order to pull his shirt off, inordinately pleased that Miles did the same, without hesitation this time.

It was Stephen’s turn to gasp when Miles reached for him, stroking Stephen’s chest with a touch that was slowly growing more sure. Growling, Stephen encouraged Miles to lie back down and carefully lay next to him. With Miles hands clutching his shoulders, Stephen kissed Miles repeatedly, his hands stroking up and down the younger man’s torso. He could still feel the slave’s ribs, but there was more flesh there. Miles was recovering, in more ways than one.

They kissed and petted for several moments, but Stephen knew something had to give. Continuing to plunder Miles’ mouth, Stephen slowly slid one hand down the slave’s body, stopping when he got to Miles’ groin. Gently, he cupped the bulge he found there, squeezing ever so slightly.

Miles squeaked.

Stephen relinquished the younger man’s mouth long enough to grin. Kissing Miles’ on the nose, he squeezed again, even as he spoke encouraging words to the younger man.

“Remember, my own, no hurting,” Stephen crooned. “I promised no pain, just like I promised no teeth and I’ve kept my word.”

“I-I know,” Miles stammered. “You just startled me is all.”

That was obvious. The bulge wasn’t straining against Miles’ pants quite as badly as when Stephen had first laid a hand on Miles’ groin, evidence that his action had diminished the nervous slave’s enjoyment of the lesson a little. Stephen switched his grip, altering his stroke, but not completely removing his hand. He couldn’t retreat, not now. It was too important that Miles grow comfortable being touched, even so intimately.

Slowly, they regained their rhythm. Miles held on to Stephen, returning his kisses with slowly renewed enthusiasm, while Stephen petted Miles with one hand on the slave’s bare chest and the other stroking his groin through slowly tightening jeans. Eventually, however, Stephen’s own jeans became uncomfortably tight and he knew it was time to end the lesson. It was either that or bring it to a conclusion that he didn’t feel Miles was quite ready for yet.

“All right, my own,” Stephen said, letting a hint of his regret color his voice. With one last kiss and fond pat to Miles’ crotch, Stephen sat up. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Miles lay flat on his back, panting. When he didn’t say anything, Stephen became a little concerned.

“Miles, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” the slave answered, voice a little tense. Moving stiffly, the young man pushed himself up off the bed. “Would you mind if I took the first shower tonight?”

Stephen grinned when he saw the way Miles was moving. The younger man was enjoying the lessons far more than he was willing to admit, if the state of his body was any indication. Stephen felt inordinately pleased with himself for bringing Miles to that point. Pleased and feeling absolutely no guilt for sending him away semi-hard and unfulfilled. After all, he’d promised Miles slow.

“No, I don’t mind,” Stephen answered. He waited until Miles had almost made his uncomfortable way to the door before adding, “And Miles?” He didn’t continue until the slave turned to look at him. “If you need to relieve any tension while you’re in the shower, go right ahead. Unlike other Masters, I have no issue with you indulging in self gratification if it makes you feel better.”

Miles blushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “Thank you, Ma - Stephen.”

The young man turned and fled. Stephen couldn’t help chuckling. He’d reveled in Miles’ touch and the younger man’s slowly growing response was more than Stephen had let himself hope for. He couldn’t help but tease a little, just happy that their relationship had progressed enough for Miles to be able to accept it without too much discomfort.

Thinking about how that young body had felt underneath him and Miles’ growing responses to their intimacy, Stephen realized that he was beginning to feel some discomfort too, particularly when he thought about what else Miles might be doing in the shower other than getting clean.

“You’re a dirty old man,” Stephen murmured to himself.

Miles wasn’t the only one who was going to need relief after this particular session.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Miles hummed under his breath as he worked. It felt so good to be alone in the apartment, doing a mundane chore like washing up the dishes. It was almost as if the last few years hadn’t happened and that he was still in charge of his own destiny. If he tried hard enough, Miles could imagine he was still a normal college student spending a weekend in his own bachelor pad.

Stephen was away, visiting Jack. Normally he was scheduled to see his son every other weekend, but because of their long separation, Stephen had visiting privileges two weekends in a row. Unlike last week’s visit, however, Miles had been left on his own instead of being packed up and sent off to stay with Natalie and Eva. The slave was really enjoying the rare opportunity for solitude. Oh, he’d been alone as a slave before, but there was a world of difference. Before, he’d been alone while waiting in a glorified cell for his Master to arrive to rape him. Now, he was alone in a space he normally shared with a very caring man, an apartment that had begun to feel like home.

The night before had been strange. During the day, Miles had kept busy studying. It was nice outside, but he wasn’t tempted to leave his refuge. It was safe in the apartment and, besides, he’d promised Stephen. By evening, though, Miles had begun to miss the other man. That came as something of a surprise. Miles knew he was lucky to have Stephen Connor as a Master, but it was a large leap from gratitude to craving the man’s company.

Just when Miles had begun to feel lonely, Stephen had called and the sound of the older man’s voice had been reassuring. The apartment had begun to feel big and empty without him there to fill up its empty spaces, but that sensation had been dissipated by Stephen’s warm voice over the phone line. After their chat, Miles had been able to sleep, undisturbed by nightmares.

Like the week before, they’d done a lesson the morning before Stephen left. Remembering it, Miles blushed, even though there was no one there to see. Stephen hadn’t progressed the lessons in the last week and was still touching Miles only through his pants. Slowly, Miles had relaxed at the intimate stroking.

Yesterday morning, he’d greatly surprised them both by reciprocating Stephen’s touch. Miles had thought he’d never be grateful for the skills he’d acquired as a pleasure slave. Watching Stephen’s face closely as he stroked his fingertips across the crotch of the older man’s jeans, Miles put his hard-won experience to use willingly for the first time. He used his fingers to manipulate his Master through the thick, soft fabric of his pants and it was only a few strokes before Stephen was gently grasping his wrist. At first, Miles thought that maybe he was doing something wrong. As he looked carefully at Stephen’s face, however, he realized that the opposite was true; Stephen was stopping him because he was on the knife-edge of control.

And Miles had put him there.

Miles didn’t know if that scared him or gave him a sense of power. In any case, Stephen had stopped the lesson then and there. Miles hadn’t pushed for more. Stephen was always so careful with Miles and respecting his boundaries that it would have been sheer hypocrisy to do so. Instead, Miles had taken a long shower after Stephen left. He’d been mortified when his owner had given him permission to masturbate and then shocked to find it had been necessary. In the three-plus years that Miles had been a slave, he’d been taken sexually more times than he could count. Sure, he was learning with Stephen that he could endure sexual touch, but he never thought he would ever have enough sexual tension build up that it would actually need to be relieved.

He was wrong. Boy, was he wrong. The lessons were turning out to be a learning experience, on several levels.

It was Sunday afternoon and Stephen would be back soon. Miles had promised that he wouldn’t spend the whole weekend studying and it was time to make good on that vow. He’d tidied up the apartment, not that they were ever in it long enough to truly make it very dirty, and now it was time to tackle a job that had been waiting since Stephen had brought him home. Stephen had probably intended that Miles do something fun when he wasn’t studying, but that was all right. He hadn’t thought to forbid Miles from doing any work around the apartment and Miles wanted to repay his owner for the many kindnesses he’d been shown since coming into Stephen’s possession.

One of Miles’ first tasks as Stephen’s slave had been to organize the books on the bookshelf. He’d been miserable at the time, still half-sick and terribly unsure of his new owner and what to expect. Even so, it had been a chore he’d ended up enjoying. Not only had he been allowed to handle medical texts for the first time in years, but seeing Stephen’s books had given him an insight to the kind of man who’d purchased him.

It said something about Stephen that his books were the first thing he’d wanted unpacked, but the boxes for the entertainment center had sat for a couple of months now without being touched. His Master had moved into the apartment shortly before acquiring Miles, so the slave had observed the place as it slowly became more livable and homey. Those last few boxes in the corner of the living room were the last remnants from the move. Every once in a while Stephen would mention them, but it was usually when they had just gotten in from a case and were sprawled in the living room, too tired to do anything about it. Now, however, Miles had time and energy on his hands. He wanted to surprise Stephen by having them unpacked by the time the doctor got home.

Still humming softly under his breath, Miles pulled the three boxes from their corner and into the middle of the living room floor. If there was one thing he’d learned from setting up the bookcase, it was to take an inventory of everything that had to fit on the shelves, to see if there were any logical patterns to be found for their placement. With that in mind, he began to unpack all of the boxes, taking their contents out and grouping them into very generic piles as to the type of media, CDs, DVDs, and the occasional video.

He was about halfway through the second box when he found it; a DVD that had his own face pictured on the back cover.

Miles stopped humming as his heart plunged right through his stomach. He recognized it. Of course he did. Many of his Masters, especially in the early days of his slavery, had owned a copy. The DVD of the abolitionist cell’s punishment, including Miles’ and his mother’s public first Claiming, had been very popular. Or so he’d been told. More than once, a Master would have a party and stage a reenactment, taking Miles first before letting his friends try him out, all the while with the damn thing playing in the background.

With shaking hands, Miles set the DVD on the carpeted floor before backing away from it slowly, like it was a snake that was preparing to bite. When he was about a body length away, the slave lurched to his feet and fled to the bathroom. He barely made it to the toilet before violently losing his last few meals. He retched for what felt like forever and when he finally stopped vomiting, Miles slid to the floor, heedless of the tears streaming down his face.

How could Stephen own a copy of that vile thing? Try as he might, Miles could not reconcile in his mind the kindness he’d received from Stephen with the type of lustful Master who would own a recording of such an event. Was the kindness a lie? It would have to be, wouldn’t it, if Stephen owned a copy of a documentary that depicted nothing but torture and rape?

Miles smiled bitterly at his own stupidity. He remembered thinking of the apartment as home and now his home was defiled. The safety he’d begun to count on with Stephen was all a sham. No wonder his Master hadn’t bothered to unpack those boxes; he was probably just waiting to lull Miles into a false sense of security. That way, when he brought out the DVD and sprung it on Miles, the slave’s appalled reaction would be that much sweeter.

Well, he couldn’t do anything about who owned him or how Stephen intended on using him. But he could ruin one aspect of his Master’s fun.

Miles pulled himself together enough to sit up and eventually stand. He ran some cold water in the sink and splashed it on his face. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he snarled at his hagridden reflection.

“You are never going to learn, are you?” He whispered to himself hoarsely.

That was all the time he had for recriminations. More time had passed during his shocked reaction that he’d realized and according to the clock, Stephen would be home soon. Miles had a lot to do before then.

Working quickly, Miles cleaned up the boxes from the living room, thrusting the contents haphazardly onto the entertainment center. He dug out a white sheet from the linen closet and tucked it around the large ottoman. Lastly, he went back to his bedroom, thankful that Stephen had bought him at least one set of a male slave’s traditional pants. At the time, Stephen said it was just a precautionary measure. He didn’t expect Miles to ever need to wear them, preferring his slave in ‘street clothes,’ but figuring it would be a good idea to have a set just in case there was an occasion where Miles would need to be more conventionally garbed.

Yeah, right. Miles no longer believed that.

By the time Stephen came home, a scant hour after Miles’ discovery, the slave had everything set. The DVD had been opened, cued to the correct spot, and paused, so Stephen would only have to hit the play button to see Miles’ first Claiming. Miles himself was kneeling next to his improvised rape couch, nude except for the flesh-colored pants, all in preparation to reenact the event.

“What in Hades’ name is this?” Stephen demanded when he entered completely and got a good eyeful of the spectacle that had been prepared for him. “Miles, what are you doing?”

“I found your DVD, Master,” Miles explained quietly. He kept his face down, but watched his owner from beneath lowered lashes. Stephen looked suitably shocked. “I thought you would be pleased. Most of my Masters have wanted to recreate the scene and I know I can make it good for you. I’m ready whenever you are.”

“What?” Stephen asked. “What are you talking about? And, Miles, look at me. Please.”

Miles obediently looked at his Master. He knew his expression was defiant, but didn’t care. Let the punishment fall where it may; at least Stephen would know that Miles was on to him. “All you have to do is press the play button, Master.”

Stephen looked from the television to Miles. His expression was blank and his movements stiff, but he did as Miles suggested. As he picked up the remote and got the DVD to playing, the apartment was filled with the agonized sounds of Miles’ pleading, his mother’s whimpers clearly audible in the background.

Miles straightened his spine as he forced himself to remain ramrod straight. What was playing on the television screen had happened years ago. He’d survived, just as he’d survived all the reenactments. Just as he’d survive whatever Stephen wanted to do now. That was part of the point of forcing his Master’s hand in this. Having the choice of when it occurred took some of the shame out of it. In just this small way, Miles would be in control. He couldn’t help his eyes filling up with tears, though. He knew what was coming and couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness that the safety he thought he’d found was just an illusion.

The slave was prepared for a brutal Claiming. Instead, Stephen calmly used the remote to turn the DVD off before walking over to the entertainment center. The doctor’s face was completely devoid of emotion as he coolly picked the DVD player up, ripped it from the shelf, and threw it violently onto the floor. In spite of his preparedness, Miles jumped at the harsh sound of the electronic equipment shattering on impact. Stephen walked by him and into the kitchen. Miles remained kneeling, but he could hear the sound of retching as Stephen vomited into the sink.

Miles started to shake. His Master wasn’t quite reacting the way he’d been expecting. By the time Stephen finished throwing up and came back to the living room, tears were once again streaking down the slave’s face.

“I don’t know what made you think I would enjoy seeing you like that,” Stephen stated in a hoarse voice.

“You had the DVD,” Miles answered brokenly. “What was I supposed to think?”

Stephen closed his eyes as if in sudden pain. “Lisa gave it to me. Years ago, for my birthday. I guess if that doesn’t tell you something about the state of our marriage, nothing will.” He opened his eyes to look beseechingly at Miles. “But, I promise you, my own, I never watched it. I’d forgotten I’d had it, really. I should have thrown it away, long ago.”

Far from being reassured, Miles found himself getting angry. How dare Stephen act as though he were the wounded party? He’d never been stretched over a bench and raped by three different men while an audience hooted and shouted their appreciation. He’d never had to watch his mother be sodomized by man after man, all while she wept and pleaded for her son to be spared the same fate. He’d never been ripped from his life and given over to others, each more cruel than the last. Never to be happy again, never to have a choice over his own life. To never be more than the Chain around his neck.

It was only when Miles realized his throat was sore that he became aware that he’d gone from thinking those thoughts to shouting them. He cringed. Kind or not, no Master liked such defiance from a slave. Miles wasn’t so far gone that he wanted to die. He threw himself to the floor and prostrated himself, waiting for the beating that would surely come.

He bit his lip when he saw Stephen’s feet approach, soft on the carpet, and braced himself. Instead of whip coming down, though, Stephen knelt next to him and gently gathered Miles into his arms.

“It’s all right, Miles,” Stephen crooned as he cradled the young slave and started rocking gently. “Let it out, my own. You’ve been punished cruelly for a crime you didn’t commit. You’ve a right to be angry and hurt. But I’m here now and no one will ever harm you again. It’s safe to cry, Miles, and mourn your old life.”

Miles had stiffened instinctively when Stephen first touched him. At the sound of the soft voice, however, he relaxed a little. His body recognized the warm touch that surrounded him and relaxed even more. His anger at Stephen melted away as the soft patter of words continued and at that, Miles really did begin to weep. He was angry at his father and the Empire, for putting him in such a position of vulnerability and angry at his God too for letting it happen.

But he wasn’t angry at Stephen anymore.

It was as though Stephen’s words opened the floodgates even wider than discovering the DVD had. He buried himself as deeply as he could into the older man’s arms and gave himself over to grieving. Stephen became his anchor, his touch and his words of comfort letting the young man know he wasn’t alone in the maelstrom of emotional pain that had finally been unleashed.

An indeterminate time later, Miles sniffed. His head was pillowed on Stephen’s shoulder and his body was filled with a lassitude that left him feeling oddly calm.

Stephen’s large hand stroked Miles’ hair. “I’ve think you’ve needed to do that for a long time, my own.”

Miles didn’t even have the energy to nod. “At first when the authorities came to arrest me, it was all so unreal. It was like it was happening to someone else; I kept expecting someone to come and fling open my cell door and say it’d all been a big mistake.” The slave swallowed heavily. “The Claiming kind of shattered that illusion.”

“I bet it did,” Stephen murmured, keeping up that wonderful stroking.

“Afterwards,” Miles stammered. “Afterwards, I think I was in shock for a long time. And when that finally wore off, I had all I could do to just survive. There wasn’t any time to mourn what I’d lost.”

He felt Stephen’s lips brush against his head. “Until now.”

“Until now,” Miles agreed, finding the energy to lift his head to look at his owner. “Thank you.”

Stephen smiled, although he looked almost as worn out as Miles did. “You’re welcome.”

Miles did his best to smile back, but knew the result was far from successful. Stephen looked at him carefully.

“Hold on just a moment, Miles,” Stephen instructed, shifting Miles so that the young man was propped up against the couch. “I’ll be right back.”

Miles blinked owlishly at his owner, but didn’t protest as Stephen left the room. He drifted in a haze, only vaguely aware that the older man was doing something of a domestic nature. Before he could work up enough curiosity to care, Stephen was back at his side.

“Here, I thought this might feel good,” Stephen said as he lifted a wet washcloth to Miles’ face.

The cool, damp fabric felt downright blissful against Miles’ overheated face. He closed his eyes in pleasure. It wasn’t just the washcloth that felt good, it was the caring.

And that made Miles feel miserable.

“Stephen, I’m so sorry,” Miles stated, but words failed him before he could say what he was apologizing for. He had so many options to choose from.

Stephen finished wiping Miles’ face and discarded the washcloth casually to the side. He sat back down on the floor and gently pulled Miles back into his arm.

“I can’t imagine the kind of surprise you must have felt finding that,” Stephen said, rubbing circles onto Miles’ back. “I’m so sorry you were here alone when you came across it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Miles defended his owner. “I should have given you the benefit of the doubt before jumping to conclusions.” Something else occurred to him. “Oh my God. I yelled at you.”

“So I noticed,” Stephen responded with, of all things, a smile.

Miles groaned, which served only to turn his Master’s smile into a chuckle.

“Don’t get me wrong, I wish you would have noticed that the DVD was unopened,” Stephen stated. “But all things considered, it didn’t turn out too badly.”

Appalled, Miles gaped at him. Stephen gently reached up and used one finger to close the slave’s mouth.

“You had all those bad feelings pent up in you,” Stephen explained. “They needed to come out, Miles.”

“But, Stephen, I yelled at you,” Miles protested. “I acted utterly inappropriately.”

“And under other circumstances, there might be repercussions for that,” Stephen admitted. “But not this time.” He tilted Miles head so that the slave was looking at him. “I do want this to be a lesson learned, Miles. No more jumping to conclusions. If you need to know something about me, you ask. Or, if you’re not comfortable asking me, ask Natalie, Eva or Frank. Any one of them would be willing to help you.”

“Yes, Stephen,” Miles answered meekly.

Stephen laughed softly and kissed him on the top of the head again. The doctor snuggled Miles against him for a few more moments, then with a sigh that seemed full of regret, he again put Miles aside.

“My bones aren’t as young as yours,” Stephen stated reluctantly. “Any more time on this floor and I’ll be a pretzel come morning.” He held out a hand towards Miles. “Think you can make it to your bedroom?”

Miles let himself be pulled to his feet. He swayed for a moment before getting his balance, but once he had it, knew he’d be just fine.

“Let me clean this up before I go to bed,” Miles pleaded. “It’s the least I can do.”

Now that he wasn’t in the middle of a catharsis, Miles was amazed that the DVD player was in scattered pieces on the floor. Stephen must have thrown it hard indeed for it to have shattered that badly on a thickly carpeted floor.

“There’ll be time for that in the morning,” Stephen answered him. “I’m going to call us both in late to the office.”

“Thank you, Stephen,” Miles said. The words were inadequate, but he didn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t thank me too much,” Stephen replied. “You owe me two hundred lines.” Some of Miles’ confusion must have shown on his face, because Stephen explained. “You called me Master twice tonight.”

It seemed trivial compared to everything else that happened, but it steadied Miles, to have that bit of normalcy back.

“I can do them tonight, if you’d like,” he offered.

Stephen shook his head and strode over to Miles, wrapping an arm around the slave’s waist and guiding him from the living room. “Don’t worry so much, my own. What happened this afternoon is not the end of the world. In fact, I think we made great strides here.”

Miles looked at him askance, but didn’t disagree. Stephen saw the expression, though, and kissed him gently. “Trust me, Miles, we did. We made a lot of progress.”

As he made his slow, tired way to his bedroom, Miles realized that he did, in fact, trust Stephen. And that thought didn’t frighten him anymore.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Stephen Connor could be a patient man, but he wasn’t a saint and not just because he wasn’t a Christian, either. It had been three long days, and two even longer nights, since Miles’ breakdown. Stephen had fully expected Miles to use his pass option the evening following the meltdown and so wasn’t disappointed when that actually happened. Finding that damned DVD had brought a lot of bad memories to the surface and he understood Miles’ need to work through them. He’d hoped that they could work through them together, but he supposed it was too soon for that. The emotions that had been stirred were still too raw.

By the second evening, Stephen had hopes that Miles would be more comfortable in accepting his touch again. One look into those dark, confused eyes, however, and he knew there’d be no lesson that night either. He’d reluctantly let Miles retreat to his room, determined to keep his promise to the slave. Stephen’s instincts were telling him that his touch would help comfort Miles, but it was more important to keep his word and play by the rules that he himself had set.

Miles had passed on two lessons. Tonight would be the third and skipping it was not an option. Stephen tried not to feel guilty for his plan to force the issue, because he knew deep down that Miles benefited far more from the sessions than he did holing up in his room and retreating from the world. Not only that, but as a Master, even a compassionate one, rules were important. There were times to bend them, but these particular circumstances didn’t warrant it. What Miles needed was a sense of normalcy and the lessons had become part of the slave’s routine. That made it important that they continue. Miles also needed to know that he wasn’t alone and the sessions accomplished that quite handily.

And, well, Stephen really needed them too. He’d missed having Miles in his arms.

When Stephen was being brutally honest, he could admit to himself that his feelings were hurt. He’d gone out of his way to be gentle and respectful of Miles, more so than any Master he’d ever heard tell of. Yet, in spite of Stephen’s efforts, the slave had been quick to jump to assumptions after finding the DVD. Stephen supposed he couldn’t really blame Miles; a couple of months of care and safety couldn’t completely heal years of brutality.

It helped that Miles so clearly regretted his actions. Not only had he apologized repeatedly, but those puppy dog eyes followed Stephen everywhere, at work and at the apartment. Stephen was actually rather surprised that Natalie and Eva hadn’t come pounding on his door, demanding to know why Miles was so withdrawn. Either Miles had confided in them or they trusted Stephen enough to keep their distance.

“Stephen, do you have a minute?”

Stephen looked up from his contemplations. Standing in the door of his office, as though his thoughts had conjured her, was Eva.

“For you? Always,” he responded, sitting back in his chair with a slight smile.

Eva was carrying a folder and she tapped it nervously against her hand as she approached Stephen’s desk. “You know that favor you asked me? About Miles’ family?”

Stephen’s smile slid away from his face as he sat up straight in his chair. “You have something for me?”

“Part of it, anyway,” she explained, taking the chair opposite from him. “I’m still working on locating his mother, but I have information on Miles’ father and sisters.”

”His father?” Stephen asked. “I thought he would be the hardest one to track down.”

“Me too,” Eva sighed. “And if he were still alive, he probably would have been almost impossible to locate.”

“Ah, he’s dead then.” Stephen sighed, not sure if he was disappointed or not. “I was afraid of that.”

Eva shook her head. “Montgomery McCabe died less than a month after being Chained. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“What do you mean?”

“He only suffered for a couple of weeks,” Eva stated flatly. The flinty expression on her face was at odds with her delicate form. “Miles suffered for years.”

“Miles is a strong man,” Stephen commented reflectively. “Stronger than he gives himself credit for.”

Eva tilted her head to the side. “Does that have anything to do with why he’s been so quiet the last couple of days?”

Stephen grinned sheepishly. “I was wondering when that subject would come up in conversation.”

“You’ve been looking a little rough around the edges too,” Eva explained. “Natalie and I decided it might be best to give you a little space.”

That wasn’t hard for Stephen to translate. “Frank told you to back off.”

Eva blushed, something it was rare for her to do. “He might have said something like that,” she admitted.

Stephen sighed, blessing his old friend’s protective nature. Frank had noticed right away that something was wrong, but hadn’t pressed Stephen for details. Apparently, he’d taken steps to make sure no one else did either. Stephen appreciated that, but he also felt compelled to acknowledge the concern in Eva’s face. He wasn’t the only one who cared about Miles.

“If Miles didn’t tell you about what happened, I don’t think I should,” Stephen said.

“He’s not in trouble, is he?” Eva asked, voice full of concern.

On that, at least, Stephen could reassure her with a clear conscience. “No, not at all,” he replied. “Let’s just say that we had something of a misunderstanding.”

Her frown smoothed a little, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “Just a misunderstanding?”

“Something like that, yes,” Stephen confirmed, but he didn’t offer any additional information. He knew that Eva could be like a bulldog when she was on the trail of something, but this wasn’t a topic he had any intention of discussing in detail with her. It was too private. “You said you found Miles’ sisters too?”

Eva blinked at the sudden change of subject, but Stephen had to give her credit. She recovered quickly.

“Miles was the baby in the family,” she launched into an explanation as she handed him the folder. “He was just a year shy of his majority, but his sisters were adults and married when the abolitionist cell was broken up. When the Empire decided to punish entire families, Miles’ sisters were no longer considered McCabes. They both still live in the San Francisco area. The oldest, Margaret, is married to a lawyer and they have a two year-old little girl. The younger one, Maureen, is a teacher and married to a chemist in San Francisco.”

While Eva was speaking, Stephen opened the folder. A photograph was on top of the documents and it was obviously a picture taken of Miles’ father. Stephen could see where Miles got his good looks. Montgomery McCabe had been a handsome man, with classic handsome features and piercing eyes. Stephen hated him on sight.

There were two more photographs underneath; Miles’ sisters with their families. Like Miles and his father, they were dark-haired and attractive. Unlike Montgomery McCabe’s portrait, which obviously had been taken before his arrest, the photos of Miles’ siblings showed an echo of sadness in their eyes. They may have escaped the Empire’s punishment, but were suffering anyway. Not as severely as Miles or his parents, but their pain over what happened to their family was evident in their expressions.

“Their addresses and phone numbers are in there too,” Eva stated quietly. “Just be careful, Stephen. This will not be easy for Miles.”

Stephen nodded. “You have my word, Eva.”

She studied his face carefully and Stephen got the definite impression that he was being judged. Apparently he passed muster because Eva nodded before getting out of her chair and walking out the door.

Later that day, Stephen remembered her words as he and Miles made their way home. Since the cupboards were bare at the apartment, they stopped for dinner after hitting the gym. Stephen kept the conversation light, not wanting to broach such a sensitive subject in public. Miles seemed a little distracted, but responded well enough that Stephen wasn’t overly concerned. He knew that Eva wouldn’t have told Miles about the search for his family, so that didn’t concern Stephen. Rather, it was likely the fallout of the DVD incident that was bothering the younger man or maybe the upcoming lesson that he couldn’t defer.

When they got back to the apartment, Miles made a beeline for the bedrooms. Stephen grimaced. He’d thought they’d made more progress than that.

“Miles, a moment please,” he called to the slave before Miles could get too far. “We have some things to attend to before you can call it a night.”

Miles turned and looked at him. “I know, Stephen. I just thought I’d go to your room, that’s where we’ve been having the lessons lately.”

Stephen must have looked as nonplussed as he felt, because Miles shrugged before explaining.

“I know,” Miles licked his lips nervously and started again. “I know there’s going to be a lesson tonight. I thought if it was okay with you, we could get it over with early.”

Not the best choice of words, but Stephen understood the sentiment behind them. He walked over to Miles and cupped his face.

“Touching you is always ‘okay’ with me,” he said with a smile. “But I have something I want to discuss with you first.”

“Mas-, Stephen, if it’s about the other night,” Miles’ voice broke. “I really am sorry.”

“I know and I’ve told you before that I understand,” Stephen answered. “Now please sit down.”

Miles sat down gingerly on the couch and, after digging the file out of his bag, Stephen joined him.

“As you’re aware, I’ve really enjoyed being reunited with my son,” Stephen began. “It got me thinking about family and how you’ve been separated from yours.”

Miles stiffened. “I – I miss them.”

Stephen nodded. “I thought so. That’s why I asked Eva to help me track them down.”

“What?” Miles’ face looked stricken.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t invited them for tea tomorrow or anything like that,” Stephen assured him. “I just thought it might give you some comfort to know how they were doing and that you could contact them.”

Miles became too agitated to sit on the couch. He jumped up and started pacing, hands fisted at his sides.

“Only if you want to,” Stephen clarified. “Miles, no one is going to force you to get in touch with them. I just wanted you to know it’s an option.”

“My sisters,” Miles said. “They, they can’t see me like this.”

“Like what?” Stephen asked softly.

“Chained,” Miles responded succinctly.

“I see.”

Miles turned to face him. “They’re free, Stephen. They don’t know what it’s like and I don’t want them to know.”

Stephen sighed. Eva had been right.

“I think I understand, my own,” he said. “I didn’t ask Eva to get this information to bring you pain, Miles.”

Miles sighed and stopped pacing. “I know, Stephen.” He came and sat on the couch by the older man. He reached for the folder sitting on Stephen’s knees, but didn’t quite bring himself to touch it. “Are they doing all right?”

His obvious curiosity brought a smile to Stephen’s lips. “Your sisters are doing fine. In fact, you’re an uncle. Your sister, Margaret, has a little girl now.”

A smile flitted across Miles’ face. “Really? What’s her name?”

“Mary,” Stephen informed him. “She’s a toddler now.”

Miles’ smile was sad as he stared at the folder, clearly wanting to open it but not quite daring. “Mary is my mother’s name.”

“Eva hasn’t been able to locate your mother yet,” Stephen spoke quietly. “But she’s not giving up.”

“And my father?” Miles asked, lifting his face to look at Stephen. “What happened to him?”

Stephen steeled himself. “He’s dead.”

He hoped Miles wouldn’t ask anything more. After Eva had left his office, Stephen had let his curiosity get the better of him and read the details of how Montgomery McCabe died. He almost wished he hadn’t. Miles’ father had been a good-looking man. When he’d been sent to the mines for hard labor, he’d never even made it underground. Instead he’d been raped to death in the barracks, tied to a cot face down for three weeks and taken by anyone who wanted.

A horrible death, even though Stephen felt it was deserved. Montgomery McCabe wasn’t his father, though. Even after all he’d been through, Miles might feel differently.

“Good,” Miles responded, surprising Stephen with a stark expression of approval.

And then his face crumpled.

Stephen shoved the folder out of the way and gathered Miles into his arms. The slave didn’t weep, but he did shake. Stephen just held him and rubbed his back until the tremors finally subsided.

“Your sisters might appreciate knowing that you’re all right,” Stephen commented quietly.

Miles nodded and pulled back. “Could you call them for me?”

”Of course,” Stephen answered. “I can do it tonight, but first we have something else to take care of.”

It hadn’t escaped Stephen’s notice that Miles had clung to him a few moments ago, when he was overwhelmed with emotion. Insisting on a lesson might seem harsh, but Stephen knew it would help Miles reconnect. The younger man craved human touch; he just had to be helped past his fear from previous experiences.

Stephen got up from the couch and extended a hand to Miles. “Come on, we have a lesson.”

Miles sighed, but let himself be pulled up. He followed Stephen obediently down the hall and when they entered the bedroom, would have gone straight to the bed. Instead, Stephen took him by the hand and tugged him towards the easy chair. Once there, the doctor sat down and pulled Miles into his lap.

“Mmmmm,” Stephen purred, nuzzling Miles’ hair. “You feel so good.”

Miles wiggled, still not completely comfortable with lap sitting. The movement pressed his buttocks against Stephen’s groin. The doctor was hard-pressed not to grab Miles by the hips and grind their bodies together until they both came. He held on to his self-control and restrained himself. Stephen was resolved to go back to the very first lesson, if necessary. He didn’t want to give up any ground, but if that was what Miles needed, he was willing to do it.

To his immense relief, however, it only took a few minutes before Miles was relaxing in his arms.

“You feel pretty good too,” Miles admitted shyly.

There was only one response Stephen could make to that. He kissed Miles and something in Stephen’s heart healed when he felt the slave kiss him back.

Stephen’s intentions of going back to the beginning were clearly not necessary. Miles’ opened himself so readily to Stephen’s kisses that soon his hands were working themselves underneath Miles’ shirt.

“Sit up a minute,” Stephen ordered breathlessly, after tearing his mouth from Miles’.

Miles was also breathing hard as their lips disconnected, but he sat up enough that Stephen could pull his shirt off over his head. When he reached for Stephen, however, the older man stopped him with a hand to his chest.

“No, this is all for you tonight, my own,” Stephen stated. “Let me do all the work.”

Stephen watched as Miles bit his lower lip. It looked as though the slave would protest his Master’s orders, but he just laid his head on Stephen’s shoulder instead. Stephen kissed him again as a reward. He let his hands roam as their lips tangled, pleased to find that Miles’ nipples were already taut with desire. He palmed them, rubbing lazy circles on Miles’ chest

“Ah,” Miles moaned, wiggling again in Stephen’s lap.

“Does that feel good, my own?” Stephen asked. “No pain?”

“No, no pain,” Miles panted.

“Good,” Stephen murmured, capturing Miles’ mouth again.

While he was kissing the breath right out of his slave, Stephen’s hands wandered lower. His fingers easily found Miles’ groin, the crotch of his pants straining with the bulge of a heavy erection. Stephen ran his thumb along the zipper and was gratified to feel Miles press up into the touch.

Given how Miles was responding, Stephen decided to move forward with the lesson. He grabbed the zipper pull and slowly drew it down, so slowly that Miles apparently didn’t notice. Stephen made sure Miles was overwhelmed with sensation and didn’t realize his Master had a hand down his pants until Stephen’s fingers slid underneath the waistband of his briefs. That got his attention.

Miles gasped.

“Shhhh, my own,” Stephen crooned. “No pain.”

Stephen licked Miles’ ear as he carefully grasped the younger man’s erection. It was already slick with pre-cum and he stroked it slowly. Miles face was an open book as the sensation washed over him. No doubt he’d done this for Masters many times in the past, but being on the receiving end was rare.

It wasn’t too surprising that Miles came to orgasm quickly. In fact, Stephen was probably more prepared for it than Miles was. The slave suddenly stiffened in Stephen’s arm and, with a small cry, he spilled into Stephen’s hand.

Stephen held Miles as the slave trembled in the aftermath, stroking his arms and back, anywhere that he could touch bare skin. When the shaking stopped, he loosened his arms. To his pleased surprise, Miles didn’t move to get up. Instead, he nuzzled into Stephen’s neck.

“As much as I hate to, my own,” Stephen murmured, “I’m going to have to declare this lesson finished. My back can’t handle falling asleep in this chair and you might be more comfortable if you take a shower.”

Miles unfolded his lanky body from Stephen’s lap, tucking his spent penis back into his pants with a blush that Stephen found absolutely adorable. The slave turned to leave, but at the last minute, ducked down and kissed Stephen on the lips.

“Thank you, Stephen,” Miles said quickly and then rushed from the room.

Stephen ran his fingers across his lips. An unprovoked kiss from Miles was still rare enough to be treasured. It left him too keyed up to sleep and, after a quick trip into the bathroom to clean up, he found himself looking for a distraction. He wandered into the living room and his eyes went almost immediately to the folder. Stephen looked at his watch. California was three hours behind them, making it still early enough to call.

After making sure that Miles was safely ensconced in his room, Stephen opened the folder and rifled through the documents until he found the first phone number. A moment later and he was dialing.

“Hello, may I speak to Margaret Callahan?” Stephen asked when the phone was answered.

“This is her,” a woman’s voice answered, wariness filling her tone. “Who is this?”

“My name is Dr. Stephen Connor,” Stephen explained. “And I’m contacting you about your brother, Miles.”

Her gasp was clearly audible. “You must be mistaken; I don’t have a brother.”

Stephen frowned and rechecked his paperwork. It definitely wasn’t like Eva to make a mistake. “Is this the Margaret Callahan that used to be Margaret McCabe, daughter of Montgomery and Mary?”

“She doesn’t exist,” came the strangled answer. “Just like they don’t exist anymore. I’m a respectable member of the Empire.”

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Stephen tried to explain. “I just thought you’d want to know that your brother was okay.”

“Leave me alone,” Margaret begged, not acknowledging what Stephen had said about Miles. “Don’t ever call here again.”

And the line abruptly disconnected.

Whatever warm feelings left over from the lesson dissipated.

“What in Hells was that?” Stephen muttered to himself as he put the telephone receiver in its cradle.

He and Eva had been worried about what contacting his family might do to Miles. They’d never stopped to consider that perhaps Miles’ family would have issues with it too. Stephen couldn’t understand that. His sister had died long ago, but if they had been separated under Miles’ circumstances, Stephen was certain that he would have jumped at the chance to receive word of Theresa.

He only hoped that Miles wouldn’t ask how his sisters had reacted to being contacted, because for the life of him, Stephen didn’t know what he would say.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

There were benefits, Miles found, to having a doctor for a sex partner. Stephen was thorough, dedicated, and demonstrated his intimate knowledge of the human body to Miles every evening in their lessons. Being the focus of that intense of blue gaze could be a bit disconcerting, but even Miles had to admit that the attention was benevolent. Miles didn’t know why, but Stephen truly did seem to care about him. In truth, Stephen wasn’t exactly a sex partner. He was like a lover, caring about Miles’ needs and responses more than anyone Miles had been with before had demonstrated, even if Stephen was his owner.

In the days since Stephen had brought Miles to orgasm using his hand, the lessons had drawn noticeably closer to their inevitable conclusion. Miles found he didn’t dread that nearly as much as he had in the beginning. In fact, it was entirely possible that he was looking forward to it. Honestly, Miles wasn’t quite sure. He knew that the only time he’d felt safe in the last three years was in Stephen’s arms.

Something else had shifted in the lessons. Miles was no longer content to lie still and let Stephen do all the work. Somewhere along the line it had become important to the slave to provide pleasure to his partner. At first shyly, and then with increasing confidence, he’d begun to touch Stephen. Learning a Master’s pleasure centers had always been a necessity; now it was a true desire.

“Miles. You have stop doing that now.”

Miles lifted himself onto one elbow and directed his best innocent look at Stephen. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

Stephen’s hips arched into his touch and Miles grinned. He continued to stroke Stephen’s erection with long, lazy caresses. Although his Master brought Miles to orgasm every night, he had yet to allow Miles to reciprocate the favor.

“I like it very much, my own, and I thank you,” Stephen replied, reaching up to stroke Miles’ face. “But it’s your turn now.”

Miles couldn’t quite bring himself to protest and remained pliant while Stephen rearranged them on the bed. Soon, he was on his back on the mattress, looking up into the smiling face of his Master.

“You are so beautiful,” Stephen murmured.

Before Miles could respond, Stephen was kissing him again and any thought of protesting flew right out of his head. While his Master plundered his mouth gently but thoroughly, Stephen’s hands ran down Miles’ bare torso. His fingers lingered over Miles’ nipples before dipping lower.

Miles gasped into Stephen’s mouth as he felt Stephen’s hand wrap around his cock.

“Mmmmm….” Stephen purred. “Nice.”

The kissing and the stroking continued, until Miles was breathless and felt about ready to explode. Stephen gave him one last deep kiss before pulling his mouth from Miles’. Dazed with lust, Miles blindly turned his face, hoping to recapture Stephen’s lips. They were busy, however. Stephen traced a line of kisses down Miles’ jaw and neck, laving the skin with his tongue as he went.

When Stephen’s mouth reached his chest, Miles stiffened a little. Only for a moment, though. He reminded himself that it was Stephen, who’d not only promised no teeth, but no pain as well. He’d never broken either promise and as that thought washed over him, Miles relaxed.

“Good, my own,” Stephen murmured. “No pain.”

“No pain,” Miles agreed, his voice becoming a gasp as his Master wrapped his hand around his erection.

Stephen shifted his grip and palmed Miles’ balls, causing the younger man to twitch his hips and spread his legs.

“Oh, very good, Miles,” Stephen praised him, clearly pleased at the slave’s response to his touch. “I think that deserves a reward.”

Miles didn’t have breath to ask what kind of reward his Master was talking about, but Stephen didn’t leave him waiting long. Stephen’s mouth traveled even lower, leaving a damp trail behind that made Miles’ shiver.

When Stephen’s mouth engulfed his cock, Miles did more than shiver. He cried out and his hips left the mattress as he tried to thrust into that moist heat.

Stephen put his hands on Miles’ hips, keeping him in place and, once he made sure the slave wasn’t going anywhere, had his way with him. Stephen pulled off Miles’ cock and switched to a slow licking motion, ending at the base and nuzzling his balls briefly. Miles felt himself beginning to lose control as Stephen started licking his way back to the tip, coming explosively as his owner’s generous mouth closed around the sensitive tip.

When Miles had the energy to open his eyes again, he found Stephen propped up on one elbow, looking at him. The doctor had a self-satisfied look on his face and Miles had to admit that it was well-deserved.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Stephen swooped down and captured his lips in a kiss. Miles tasted himself on Stephen’s tongue. It was a bit of a letdown to realize that his own flavor wasn’t appreciably different than any of the Masters he’d served in the past.

That was an unfortunate comparison for Miles to have made. The combination of thoughts of past Masters and the taste in his mouth brought back some very unpleasant memories. Miles clung to Stephen, his anchor.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Stephen murmured. He laid down and pulled Miles into his arms, situating the younger man so that Miles’ upper body was pillowed on his chest. “What’s wrong, my own? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Miles pressed close. “No, it’s just that –…” He looked up and was encouraged by the kindness in the other man’s face. “Did you really like doing that?”

“What?” Stephen asked. “Fellatio?”

Miles nodded. “You didn’t seem to mind doing it, but do you really enjoy it?”

“Ummmhmm,” Stephen responded. His fingers traced a lazy pattern across Miles’ chest. “It’s such an intimate act and, besides, I like knowing that that I’m bringing my partner so much pleasure.” He stopped the stroking and lifted Miles’ chin to make the slave look at him. “I take it you don’t?”

Miles shivered. He’d told Stephen about the nibbling and his Master hadn’t minded that, but this was different. From what he experienced with his other owners, oral sex was a favorite activity. Could he really ask Stephen not to expect it of him? He took another look into those intense blue eyes and knew he had no choice. He’d promised to tell Stephen if something bothered him. After overreacting to that damn DVD, he had to prove to Stephen that he trusted him.

“No, not really,” Miles admitted in a hoarse whisper. “My other Masters, they liked it a lot, but I wasn’t used to doing it.” His eyes lost their focus as his mind took him down into some very dark places. “Some of them, they’d just shove in and I couldn’t breath. They’d be thrusting and thrusting and I’d be choking and they didn’t care. And if I gagged, I’d be beaten or even flogged.”

“Miles, you’re safe now,” Stephen’s voice brought him back. Miles blinked up into his Master’s concerned face.

“I know,” Miles said gravely. “I’m always safe with you.”

Stephen’s grin was beatific and Miles knew he’d finally made up for his lack of trust over the DVD.

“I promised no pain, my own. We won’t do anything that you don’t like,” Stephen stated. “So you needn’t worry that I’ll ask it of you.” He got a hopeful look on his face. ““Does receiving oral sex bother you?”

Miles shook his head. “No, but that’s hardly fair. I can’t ask you to do something for me that I’m not able to do for you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Stephen assured him. “There are plenty of other things we can do sexually that I find pleasure in.”

“But you won’t let me,” Miles complained. “You won’t let me bring you pleasure.”

“You’re kidding,” Stephen protested. ‘Trust me, when you were touching me earlier, I felt a lot of pleasure.”

“Pleasure, yes, but not…” Miles blushed. Here he was nude next to his owner, having just come in the man’s mouth, and he was all tongue-tied. “But not orgasm. I feel selfish.”

Stephen chuckled. “Trust me, Miles, you’re not being selfish. These lessons were for you, remember?”

“I guess,” Miles replied, not convinced. He knew he sounded petulant, but he been plagued in the last few days with a need to give something back to the man who’d given him so much.

“Hey,” Stephen called gently, lifting Miles’ face again. “I don’t want you to feel that what we do in bed together is one-sided. Starting with tomorrow night’s lesson, we’ll do things a little more evenly.” He smiled reassuringly. “Except for the part you don’t like.”

Miles smiled and reached for the older man. “Why not start tonight?”

His hand drifted lower, but the slave didn’t find what he expected. Stephen chuckled when Miles looked at him for an explanation.

“I told you,” Stephen grinned. “I really like giving fellatio.”

Miles could have been pushed over with a feather. He knew that Stephen had been aroused, the erection he’d been stroking moments before his owner had switched positions with him had been evidence of that. Stephen’s penis was flaccid now and the presence of the fluid around it made it clear why. Bringing Miles to orgasm had apparently brought Stephen over the edge and gave him his own release.

“Watching you, knowing that I brought you that kind of pleasure in your body when all it had given you for years was pain,” Stephen explained. “That brings its own kind of gratification.”

“Some day, Stephen, I’ll be able to repay you,” Miles swore. “Maybe even be able to do, you know, *that,* for you.”

Stephen hugged him. “Don’t worry about it, my own. If there’s a time down the road when you’re comfortable with making love to me that way, well, I’m not going to argue with it. If not, though, there are plenty of other things we can do.”

“Promise?” Miles asked, suddenly unsure. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Stephen, but that he was unused to good things happening to him.

“Promise,” Stephen responded firmly. “Now, I think that’s enough for tonight. Go on, it’s an early day tomorrow; you’ll probably want to shower tonight.”

Miles smiled and kissed Stephen before sliding out of bed. With a last shy look back, he left the bedroom and padded down the hall.

Yes, the lessons were coming to their conclusion and Miles definitely wasn’t dreading that any more.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Miles was dawdling. It was unusual behavior for the young man, so Stephen let it slide. Besides, he had a feeling the uncharacteristic slowness was due to a case of the nerves. Since Stephen had some butterflies in his stomach over today’s meeting, he couldn’t very well get on Miles for having essentially the same problem.

Later in the day would be Miles’ introduction to Stephen’s family and that prospect made Stephen as jumpy as a teenager getting ready to pick up his prom date. Except this situation was much more serious than a silly dance. Stephen considered Miles to be a permanent fixture in his life and it was vital that the slave get along well with his son. Stephen knew he shouldn’t be so worried. Miles was a great guy and Jack a personable boy. They’d probably get along famously. Still, there was that niggling doubt that kept him on edge.

Stephen was less worried about Lisa. Frankly, her opinion of Miles didn’t concern him much. Her behavior towards Miles did, however. Not only for Miles’ sake, but Jack’s as well. He didn’t want his son picking up any of Lisa less admirable qualities.

The lesson that morning had been a little more rambunctious than most, an attempt to burn off some nervous energy. Stephen had come to be thankful that Miles had convinced him to allow Miles to participate more in the lessons. Miles, it turned out, had very talented hands and Stephen hadn’t missed receiving oral sex at all.

That morning, though, Stephen had tried something different. When they were both nearly at their peak, Stephen had pulled away from those skillful fingers. He’d positioned himself over Miles and ground their cocks together. It was a tactic Stephen had been wanting to use for days, but had been worried about how Miles would react. He shouldn’t have been concerned. Miles had welcomed his weight warmly and it had only taken a few thrusts before they both came. Even an hour later, Stephen’s smile was still plastered all over his face.

Stephen was carrying his duffle bag to the living room when the phone rang. Having just heard the shower turn off, he knew Miles was in no position to answer the phone, so he hurried to catch it before the caller gave up.

“Connor speaking,” he said into the receiver, using his usual briskness.

“Dr. Stephen Connor?” The female voice on the other end asked.

“Yes, it is,” Stephen replied. Then, impatient, he added, “I’m on the national Do Not Call list, so I’m really not interested in whatever you’re selling.”

“No, it’s nothing like that, please don’t hang up,” the woman sounded almost frantic. “Are you the Stephen Connor who contacted Margaret Callahan regarding her brother?”

Stephen felt his stomach drop. “Yes, I am. Who is this?”

“My name is Maureen Harris, but my maiden name was McCabe. I’m Margaret’s sister,” a slight pause while she took a deep breath, “and the sister of Miles McCabe.”

After Miles’ eldest sister had rebuffed his attempt at contact, Stephen hadn’t rushed to try to reach the younger one. Apparently, he wasn’t going to have to; she’d found him.

“Dr. Connor?” Miles’ sister prompted when Stephen didn’t respond. “Margaret said you had information about our brother. Do you know where he is? Is Miles all right?”

Stephen felt uncomfortable. He’d never had to tell someone that he owned their sibling.

“Miles is fine,” he finally said. “I won’t lie to you, though. Before he came to live with me, Miles had a pretty hard time.”

“You- you own him, then?”

Stephen didn’t know how to soften his answer, so didn’t even try. “Yes.”

He heard her take a shaky breath. “I see. May I speak to him?”

“I’m sorry, no,” Stephen responded. “Miles isn’t comfortable with that yet and I won’t force him.”

“Why?” Maureen demanded, voice desperate. “Why wouldn’t he want to speak to his family?”

“He feels self conscious,” Stephen explained. “Maybe someday he’ll feel comfortable enough in his new life that he’ll want to see you, but until then, I’m certainly not going to push him into it before he’s ready.”

There was silence and then she spoke again.

“I guess I can understand that,” Maureen admitted, reluctance obvious in her voice. “But he’s okay? You said he’d had a rough time of it. What happened? How did he end up with you?”

Stephen smiled. Curiosity must run in the McCabe family. It had been suppressed in Miles, but there were signs that his inquisitiveness hadn’t been completely beaten out of him. His sister, on the other hand, had it in full force.

As gently as he could, Stephen explained how he’d met Miles. He glossed over the condition the slave had been in when he’d found him in the camp and the details he’d learned about Miles’ slave experience prior to that. He had a feeling that Maureen could fill in the blanks anyway.

“And what does Miles do for you, Dr. Connor?” Maureen asked when Stephen wound down. “What-what kind of slave duties does he have?”

Stephen reminded himself that the McCabes had been an abolitionist family. It was possible that Maureen hadn’t been around slaves or Masters much, otherwise she would realize that her questions were completely out of line.

Or, maybe not, since it was her brother she was asking about.

With that in mind, Stephen decided not to let it bother him. If he was in Maureen’s place, he’d be every bit as concerned. It must be frustrating to realize that your sibling was completely at the mercy of a stranger and not be able to do anything about it. Later, when he knew her better, he’d warn her about the proper etiquette. Not that he particularly cared about it for Maureen’s sake, but she wouldn’t be getting near Miles until Stephen was absolutely certain that her behavior wouldn’t get the slave into any trouble.

“I’m a doctor for the National Institutes of Health,” Stephen told her. “Miles assists me with my work.

“He must enjoy that,” Maureen commented in a choked voice.

Stephen smiled, even though she couldn’t see. This next revelation would be a true pleasure. “He’s a valuable assistant and I imagine when he finishes medical school and is a doctor in his own right, he’ll be an even bigger help.”

Her gasp made him smile wider.

“Medical school?” She repeated. “You’re allowing him to go to medical school?”

“I’m insisting on it,” Stephen stated firmly. “Miles has a real gift; it would be a shame to waste it.”

There was a moment of silence and then she asked, “Are you a Christian?”

That question took Stephen aback. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I thought only Christians could be so kind,” Maureen answered. “Dr. Connor, thank you for treating my brother so well. It sounds like a miracle that he ended up in your care.”

“Miles is easy to be kind to,” Stephen responded, not knowing what else to say. He was vaguely offended that she thought only those of her own faith were capable of compassion. Miles had mentioned, though, that his family came from a very conservative upbringing. Like with slave protocol, no doubt she was a little sheltered.

Stephen also began to feel a little guilty. He’d completely eschewed the fact that he was also having sex with her brother, sex that hadn’t started out completely voluntarily on Miles’ part. Somehow, he doubted Maureen Harris would still consider him a kind man if she knew that and he figured it would be best to change the subject before it occurred to her to ask.

“I’m surprised to hear from you, Mrs. Harris,” Stephen stated, attempting to change the subject. “Your sister wasn’t exactly glad to hear from me.”

“You have to understand,” Maureen’s voice grew defensive. “They made us watch. While they punished them, they made us watch. Dad’s gelding, all three Claimings, all of it. Maggie didn’t handle it at all well.”

Stephen swallowed. Knowing what had happened to Miles and his parents, he could well imagine that being forced to witness had been heartbreaking. “I’m sorry.”

“Dad only lasted a couple of weeks,” Maureen went on. “They were going to make both of us identify his body, as if the authorities didn’t know perfectly well who he was, they put that damn locater chip in him. By that time, though, Maggie had found out she was pregnant and was excused for compassionate reasons.” She sighed. “They still watch us, probably always will. We’ll be under observation as potential abolitionist rabble rousers for the rest of our lives. It’s not so bad for me, but Maggie has her little girl to worry about.”

“And that’s why she denied knowing Miles?”

“Yes. And when she finally told me about it, I practically strangled her,” Maureen said with the impatience of a long-suffering sibling. “I can understand her fear, but we’ve both been half out of our minds with worry for Miles and our mother.” She paused and then asked hesitantly, “I don’t suppose you were able to locate our mother, were you? Maggie and I don’t dare even try.”

“I’m sorry, I have a friend looking, but nothing yet,” Stephen replied. “I’m told that convict slaves with a certain celebrity status are deliberately buried in the system. My colleague will keep at it, though, and I’ll let you know if anything turns up.”

“Thank you, again, Dr. Connor. I seem to be saying that a lot.”

“Call me Stephen,” he encouraged her. “And you’re welcome.”

“And you should call me Maureen,” she replied.

The lag between words became awkward as they both ran out of something to say.

“Look, Miles and I have somewhere to go this morning,” Stephen said apologetically. “Before we do, though, I want to give you my cell phone number. I’d rather you didn’t call here again. Miles might answer the phone and until he’s comfortable speaking with you, I don’t want to risk it.”

“All right,” she replied her reluctance to make that promise obvious as she took down the number. “Even if Miles doesn’t want to talk to me yet, do you think you could send a picture? Or maybe he’d like to write a letter.”

Stephen had absolutely no intention of forcing Miles to do either, but there was no harm in asking. “I won’t promise anything, but I’ll see if he’d be interested.”

“Thank you, Dr. C- I mean, Stephen.”

Stephen said goodbye with a smile. Apparently, Miles wasn’t the only McCabe that had a hard time using his first name.

“Good ol’ Mo.”

The doctor whirled to find Miles standing in the living room doorway, leaning against the door frame. Although he had the trail of a lone tear running down his face, the slave was smiling faintly.

“Mo wasn’t the oldest, but between her and Maggs, she was definitely the more mother hen,” Miles commented almost apologetically. “Sometimes it felt like I had two mothers.”

Stephen crossed the room and gathered Miles into his arms. “She loves you very much.”

“I know,” Miles rested his head on Stephen’s shoulder. “I still don’t want to talk to her yet.”

“How about a letter?” Stephen suggested. “Or a photo?”

He waited as Miles considered. Shaking his head, the slave said, “No letter. I don’t know what I’d say.”

“Then we’ll just wait until you do,” Stephen stated. “What about a picture?”

“I guess that would be okay,” Miles responded. Then he surprised Stephen by adding, “But only if you’re in it too.”

“Me?” Stephen leaned back so he could see Miles’ face. “Why me?”

“I want her to see the man that saved me,” Miles said shyly. “I’d be dead now if it weren’t for you.”

Stephen was touched. It wasn’t a proclamation of love, but it was as close as Miles had come to admitting he had feelings for his Master. He kissed the slave gently, eager to deepen the kiss and take Miles then and there, but it wasn’t the time.

“Come on, my own,” He instructed the younger man. “I wasn’t lying to your sister; we have to get on the road.”

The ride was quiet. At first the silence had a contemplative feel to it and Stephen figured Miles was thinking about his sister’s call. Stephen wasn’t sure how much of it Miles had heard and, even though he hadn’t talked to her, it probably had been a little unsettling for a slave who was self conscious about contacting his family.

As they drew closer to the house where Lisa and Jack lived, the atmosphere in the vehicle grew more tense. Stephen reached over and took Miles’ hand. He was pleased when the young man not only didn’t pull away, but gave Stephen’s a tentative squeeze.

“You don’t need to be so worried,” Stephen said. “I’m sure Jack will love you.”

“I hope so,” Miles sighed. “How about your wife? She’s probably not thrilled to have someone like me around.”

“Are you kidding?” Stephen did his best to hide his own concern on that particular subject. “Women seem to like you. I think it’s the dimples.”

He turned his attention from the road long enough to glance at Miles. The slave was looking at him like he was crazy. Stephen couldn’t help but grin, which clued Miles in to the fact that he was being kidded. He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips.

“Seriously, Stephen,” Miles prodded. “Most of my other Masters were not nice men; their wives were relieved to have someone to take their husbands away from their beds once in a while.”

“And I am a nice man?” Stephen asked, shamelessly fishing for a compliment.

“Very,” Miles assured him. Another quick glance showed that the slave was completely serious. “Your wife might not be so happy about sharing.”

Stephen sighed. “Miles, Aphrodite didn’t exactly bless my union with Lisa. The frank truth is that, even before we separated, Lisa and I hadn’t shared a bed in some time.”

“I just don’t want to cause you any trouble,” Miles murmured in an unhappy voice.

“You won’t, trust me,” Stephen assured him. Then, returning his attention to his driving, said, “there’s our turn off.”

Their route took them through a quiet suburban neighborhood. It occurred to Stephen that he really didn’t know that much about Miles’ upbringing. Maybe someday it wouldn’t be such a painful subject and the slave would share it with him. He found he was already looking forward to that.

“Well, here we are,” Stephen pronounced as he pulled in to a particular driveway. He turned to reassure Miles one last time, but noticed Jack in the front yard. With a last squeeze to Miles’ hand, Stephen got out of the SUV.

“Dad!”

“Hey there kiddo,” Stephen greeted his son as the boy launched himself into his arms. “Oof, you’re getting big.”

Jack was grinning as Stephen hugged him tight, enthusiastically squeezing his dad back before letting go. He peered around his father’s body, obviously eager to peek at Miles as the slave got out of the SUV and approached. Giving in to the inevitable, Stephen stepped back and let his slave and his son get a good look at each other. Miles was pale, but composed, while Jack was openly curious.

“Jack, I’d like you to meet Miles McCabe,” Stephen introduced them formally. “Miles, this is my son, Jack.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Miles murmured.

“Hi,” Jack responded, looking a little shy. That didn’t last long, however, as he turned to his father. “Dad, he’s old.”

Stephen chuckled. “I told you he was an adult, Jack.”

“Yeah, I know,” the boy admitted. “But Mom said something about you taking him out of a cradle. He’s too big to fit in a cradle.”

Miles made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but covered it with a cough. Stephen gave him a worried look, but saw that some color had returned to the slave’s face. Better yet, Miles’ eyes were dancing with mischief.

A movement caught Stephen’s eye and when he turned, it was to see Lisa in the house, stepping back from the window.

“I tell you what, kiddo,” Stephen said to his son. “I have to go talk to your mom for a minute. Why don’t you show Miles around out here?” Nodding to the football Jack was carrying, he added a suggestion. “Maybe the two of you could toss the ball around a bit. Miles is a big football fan.”

“Okay,” Jack didn’t sound overly sure. “But you won’t be long, right? We’re going to go do something.”

“Yes, we have tickets for the ballgame this afternoon,” Stephen assured him. “But we don’t have to leave for an hour or so. Plenty of time for me and your mother to have a chat.” He gave Miles a beseeching look.

“Jack, your dad told me about the tree house he built for you,” Miles said. “Do you think you could show it to me?”

“Sure,” Jack responded, leading Miles to the backyard.

Stephen breathed a sigh of relief. He watched fondly as the two walked away from him and then, with a set expression on his face, marched back to the house. Like before, he found her in the kitchen.

“He’s quite lovely,” Lisa commented dryly as she heard his familiar step. “No wonder you couldn’t resist him.”

“Did you tell Jack that I was robbing the cradle?” Stephen accused, crossing his arms across his chest and standing with one hip leaning against the kitchen counter.

She sighed and turned to face him. “Not directly, no,” she admitted calmly. “He might have heard me saying that to my sister, though. I’m sorry.”

The apology caught Stephen by surprise. He looked at his wife closer and saw that nothing had really changed. Her expression was still bitter and closed off. He knew she’d been putting in some volunteer time with the crisis nursery, but being around those that were less fortunate hadn’t widened Lisa’s world view yet.

“Miles is a part of this family now,” Stephen commented steadily. “I’m not expecting you to be happy about it, but I do expect you to accept it.”

Lisa bit her lip and, even from across the room, Stephen could see her eyes fill up with tears. “I know.” Her smile was watery. “Just don’t take Jack from me. Anything else, I don’t really care about.”

Acting the martyr didn’t really suit Lisa, although she’d always had the ability to cry on cue. It was obvious that she was forcing the words; her proud stance showed no true remorse. That was okay with Stephen. He didn’t require proper acceptance, just appropriate behavior with their son, particularly where Miles was concerned.

“Whether or not you stay a part of Jack’s life depends entirely on you,” Stephen reminded her. “I told you before that I think a child’s place is with his mother, but that I won’t countenance you undermining my relationship with Jack. For the record, that includes being snide about my relationship with Miles."

“Fine. I’ll just keep my mouth shut,” Lisa said bitterly. “That’s all you seem to want out of me anyway.”

Stephen didn’t bother trying to dissuade her. If that was what Lisa really thought, then no wonder their marriage had never worked.

“Dad!”

The sound of Jack’s happy call interrupted Stephen’s thoughts. His son ran into the kitchen and stopped just short of plowing into him. Rocking back on his heels, the boy grinned up at him.

“Miles says you’re a superhero, Dad,” Jack beamed as he said it. “He says that you save whole towns and stuff.”

Stephen looked over his son’s head at the slave, who’d entered the house with considerably more dignity. Miles just shrugged and smile wanly, eyes darting over to Lisa.

“Well, I don’t know about the superhero part,” Stephen admitted, “but that’s what the NIH does. Helps people. Sometimes just a few people and, yes, sometimes whole towns.”

“No wonder you’re so busy,” Jack claimed as he hugged his father. “Betcha there’s lots of people in the Empire that need saving.”

Stephen patted the boy on the back as he gave Miles a grateful look. Jack tried to be understanding about his father’s job, but he was just a boy and it was hard for him to comprehend the nature of Stephen’s work. Trust Miles to explain it in terms that made Stephen out to be some sort of champion.

“Miles, come here,” Stephen instructed, holding out his hand. “I want you to meet Lisa, my wife.”

Obedient, Miles walked forward. As he neared the Connors, however, he dropped gracefully to his knees and bowed his head. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Mistress.”

Jack’s eyes were wide as he looked up at his father. “Why’d he do that, Dad?”

Lisa, unfortunately, was quicker off the mark and was the one to answer his question.

“Because he’s a slave,” she stated sweetly. “That’s how slaves are supposed to act. Right, Stephen?”

Stephen ground his teeth, but forced himself to be calm as he educated his son. “Many slaves, yes, are expected to act very subserviently.” He gave Jack a squeeze before letting him go. Putting a hand under Miles’ elbow, he raised the young man to his feet. “Miles, however, is more like a part of the family. He’s not going to be expected to act so formally with us.” He glared at his wife. “Is that perfectly clear?”

She shrugged. “Crystal.”

“O-okay,” Jack said uncertainly, thinking his father had included him in that pronouncement.

Stephen ruffled his hair. “I tell you what, sport. Go get your hat. It’s a little early, but we’ll head out for the game. Maybe get some hotdogs before it starts.”

Jack’s face cleared up. “Awesome!” He looked from his dad to Miles. “Is he coming with us?”

“Yes,” Stephen held his breath, wondering how his son would react to that.

“Good,” Jack replied with a shy smile. “I like Miles.”

It was with a sigh of relief that Stephen watched his son run up towards his room. He looked at his wife triumphantly, but Lisa just shook her head and also left the room, muttering something about needing to go grocery shopping.

“I like him too,” Miles commented softly. He sagged against Stephen, who wrapped an arm around the slave’s waist. “He reminds me of you.”

Stephen kissed the younger man on the temple. “I don’t know about that, but he’s a great kid.”

“He adores you,” Miles told him.

That was nice to hear and Stephen grinned as he looked in the direction of his son’s room. “I’m kind of fond of him myself.”

“Stephen,” Miles said hesitantly. Stephen returned his attention back to the slave to find Miles staring at him solemnly. “I – I like you too.”

“That’s good to know,” Stephen told him after bestowing a chaste kiss. “Because I more than like you and you’re stuck with me now.”

Stephen’s heart was full. Miles had weathered his introduction to Stephen’s family and, despite Lisa’s unpleasantness, it had been success. Even more, the slave had admitted having feelings for Stephen. Maybe not the depth that Stephen hoped for, but if his instincts were correct, Miles felt more than he was admitting to.

And Stephen knew his instincts were pretty damn good.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Miles sat on the edge of his bed, one arm wrapped around his stomach. He was dressed only in a pair of soft flannel sleep pants and shivered despite the warm air of the apartment. Miles knew he probably looked as woebegone as he felt, but at the moment he didn’t particularly care.

He almost wished Stephen hadn’t told him that tonight would be The Night, the culmination of weeks and weeks of intimacy lessons. Miles didn’t really know why he was nervous; they’d been building to this point from the very beginning. It wasn’t like Stephen had ever misled him about what the expected outcome was and, besides, they’d had sex once already. He knew Stephen was a considerate partner and that was before the lessons had started. Just a few days ago, he’d almost been looking forward to this final lesson. Now that it was here, though, it was a different story.

Miles sighed and looked at the clock on his bedside table. It was nearly time to go. After they’d gotten home, Stephen had given Miles some time to prepare himself and instructed the slave to come to the master bedroom at a particular hour. It hadn’t taken Miles long to shower and change, so most of that time had been spent in quiet reflection. As result, his stomach was tied up in knots and he was on the verge of cursing his Master for his ‘consideration.’ It would have been easier on his nerves to just have been bent over the sofa and gotten it over with.

“You’re an idiot,” Miles chastised himself. “And you’re not being fair, either.”

In his heart of hearts, Miles knew that Stephen would never do anything like bend him over the couch and fuck him. Not unless he knew that was what Miles wanted, anyway. The man had been nothing but patience personified and Miles knew that his case of nerves was a poor way to repay his Master for all of his kindness. Stephen deserved so much more than an emotionally scarred slave like Miles.

One more glance at the clock and Miles realized it was time. He got up and took a shaky breath. Then, steeling his resolve, he made his way out of his bedroom and the few steps down the hallway to the master bedroom. The door was open and he tentatively poked his head in.

“Stephen?”

His Master was sitting on the easy chair. Like Miles, he was wearing only a pair of soft pants, but instead of flannel, the sheen of the material showed that they were made of silk. Stephen looked up at the sound of Miles’ voice and a brilliant smile brightened his face.

“My own, there you are,” Stephen greeted him by holding out a hand. Miles obediently entered the room and walked towards him. “I thought I was going to have to send out a search and rescue party.”

Miles blushed. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking.”

“I bet you were.” Stephen chuckled and, when Miles reached him, encouraged the slave onto his lap. Instead of across his legs, however, Stephen wanted Miles facing him and straddling his knees. “Sometimes, my own, you think too much.”

Knowing it was true, Miles nodded. “It just seems like, sometimes, that there’s so much to think about.”

Stephen looked carefully into Miles’ face. “Miles, there’s something I want to tell you before we go on with tonight’s lesson.”

His Master’s face was very solemn and Miles felt a stab of cold in his belly. The fear must have shown in his face, because Stephen was quick to try and reassure him.

“It’s nothing bad,” the older man hastened to add. “At least, I don’t consider it to be anything bad, but I don’t know what you’ll think. I hope you won’t take it that way.”

Stephen was babbling and, instead of being reassured, Miles became more nervous. Anything that made his confident Master insecure enough to prattle on was not likely to be a good thing. He frowned. Stephen saw the expression and stopped talking, moving to clasp both of Miles’ hands in his own. The doctor sat quietly, gathering his thoughts before speaking again.

“What I’m trying to say is that I care about you,” Stephen stated after a few moments. “It’s more than that, actually. I think I owe it to you to say it out loud, especially before what’s going to happen tonight.” He reached out one hand to cup Miles’ cheek. “I love you, Miles.”

Miles shook his head, certain he hadn’t heard that correctly. “What?”

Stephen’s smile was gentle. “I know you haven’t had someone say that to you in a long time, Miles, but it’s true. I’m not just fond of you; I love you.”

It didn’t make any more sense the second time he heard it. How could Stephen love him? He knew his Master cared, on some level or another, but love was totally unexpected.

“I don’t know what to say,” Miles admitted.

Stephen caressed Miles’ cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to say anything, my own. I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad, because I don’t expect you to say anything back. I just wanted you to know that tonight’s about more than sex. It’s about making love.”

“I- I,” Miles stuttered. He wanted to tell Stephen that he cared for him too, maybe even loved him, but the words wouldn’t come. “You make me feel things I haven’t for years.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Stephen replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s confusing,” Miles admitted. “Frightening, sometimes.”

Stephen kissed him gently. “Not feeling anything is easier, my own, but it isn’t always the best path. Call me arrogant, but I’m convinced that it’s not the path for you.”

Miles leaned into his Master’s touch as Stephen stroked his face. Somehow, no matter how mixed up everything was, Stephen’s arms made him feel safe.

Stephen chuckled at the younger man’s reaction. “Like I said, my own, sometimes you think too much. Every once in while, you just need to let yourself feel.”

With those words, the lesson started in earnest.

Stephen leaned forward and kissed Miles again. Unlike the earlier kisses, this one packed some heat and Miles felt himself responding. His body, it was clear, had no confusion at all. It knew what felt good and it wanted more. Miles pushed closer, bracing himself against Stephen’s shoulders as he pressed into his Master’s warmth.

Kissing didn’t satisfy either man long. Stephen’s large hands swept over Miles’ body and the slave shivered as he felt them brush against the bare skin of his back. Each touch made him remember an earlier lesson and he felt his body come alive all over again, just as the lessons had awakened in him the knowledge that physical intimacy could be good.

Stephen pulled back and Miles looked up at him confusion. Had he done something wrong? Apparently not, since Stephen was smiling down at him.

“Come on, my own,” his Master encouraged him as he began to maneuver Miles off his lap. “Let’s move this to the bed.”

Blushing, Miles let himself be tugged upright and across the room. Stephen stopped him just short of the mattress and pulled him in close for more devastating kisses. As their bodies pressed close, Miles gasped when he felt Stephen’s hands go down the back of his pants and cup his ass. Stephen swallowed that gasp, just as he was doing his best to swallow Miles’ mouth whole. When he finally allowed the slave some air, Miles was standing there completely nude, his pants having been removed at some point during the last oral assault.

“You are so beautiful,” Stephen whispered, voice hoarse with awe. Miles ducked his head.

“Not compared to you,” he said shyly, reaching for Stephen. He was grateful that Stephen had insisted on the gym. At least he didn’t feel quite so much like a scrawny chicken next to his owner’s toned physique.

He stroked one hand down his Master’s torso, the muscles of the older man’s abdomen rippling as he stroked downwards. When he got to Stephen’s hips, he stopped and bent forward to lick delicately at Stephen’s nipples. One of Stephen’s hands came up to wrap around Miles’ neck, but it didn’t make any demands other than that. Miles licked to his content and only then did he slide Stephen’s silk pants the rest of the way down. Stephen stepped out of them and solemnly lay down on the bed, holding up one hand for Miles to join him. The slave didn’t even hesitate, just climbed onto the mattress and went directly into Stephen’s arms.

“You’ve come so far, my own,” Stephen praised him, after kissing Miles gently. “I’m so proud of you.”

He didn’t wait for Miles to answer. Stephen shifted so that he was covering Miles’ body and Miles cried out softly as he felt his Master’s erection glide against his own. Once again, though, Stephen’s mouth descended on his, kissing him deeply as he bore down on the young man. His hips ground down onto the slave’s and the friction was delicious, as was Stephen’s mouth plundering his. They could have done nothing else and Miles would have been satisfied, but Stephen had other ideas.

Stephen pulled his mouth from Miles, grinning in satisfaction as he trailed one thumb over Miles’ kiss-swollen bottom lip. Miles tried to nip at it, but Stephen was too quick. With a final kiss to Miles’ chin, Stephen’s head lowered. He kissed his way down Miles’ neck and chest, lingering only long enough to lave each hard nipple a couple of times before leaving off to descend further.

Miles felt his Master nuzzle his groin. Unlike before, there was no licking or delicate exploration. Stephen engulfed Miles’ cock in one swallow. Miles cried out sharply and would have lifted his hips from the bed, but Stephen as prepared for him. His hands were already wrapped around the slave’s hips, keeping him on the mattress and preventing him from accidentally choking him.

Stephen did something wonderful with his throat, causing it to ripple in a most delightful way around Miles’ cock. Miles bit his lip and, when he felt Stephen’s fingers tickling his testicles, spread his legs wider. He was overloading with sensation and already almost ready to come.

And that’s when everything stopped.

The warm heat surrounding his cock disappeared as Stephen pulled off. Miles had been so close to orgasm that all he could was lay there and pant as Stephen kissed his way back up his body. When he was again stretched out along Miles’ form, the older man gathered Miles into his arms.

“I’m sorry, my own, I hope we’re not going too quickly,” Stephen explained. “But I really need to be inside you. Now.”

Miles nodded numbly. The lessons had been going on for weeks and were certainly the longest foreplay he’d ever heard of, even as a free man. It was unheard of for a slave and Master. Besides, with the way his body was straining for completion, maybe Stephen was right. When Miles stopped and thought about Stephen, he got all mixed up and twisted around inside. When he lay back and just let himself feel, however, the physical intimacy with his Master just felt right.

“Good, my own,” Stephen kissed him fiercely. “Now turn over.”

Miles obeyed, although the bedspread felt uncommonly rough against his super sensitized erection. Unfortunately, he had enough time to start thinking again and, by time Stephen started stroking his ass, Miles had tensed up a little.

“What did I promise?” Stephen asked as he kneaded the firm cheeks. “Way back when I first brought you to my apartment.”

“That nothing we did sexually would cause me pain,” Miles responded, relaxing at both the reminder and the touch. Then, without prompting, he added, “You’ve kept that promise too.”

“And I always will,” Stephen vowed.

He spread Miles’ cheeks and blew gently onto the puckered opening. Miles shivered, but it was in anticipation and not fear. Greatly daring, he spread his legs a little.

“Oh, bravely done,” Stephen praised him.

Miles smiled and then bit his lip as he felt a finger press into him. A large hand splayed against his back, holding him in place even as Stephen’s touch anchored him. Miles closed his eyes to concentrate more on the penetration. Stephen was being gentle, but thorough as he moved the finger around, opening the tight passage in preparation for something much larger. A second finger was added and Miles tensed a little, but patience and some softly crooned encouragement from Stephen got him through it. He cried out at the third finger, but knew it was necessary. It helped that Stephen didn’t move until he felt Miles relax around him and soon was thrusting all three digits inside with relative ease.

Miles tensed a little when he felt Stephen remove his fingers. Before his Master could say anything, though, Miles turned over.

“Let me get you ready,” he requested before Stephen could ask what was wrong.

Stephen nodded and Miles crawled over to the nightstand, where the condoms were readily in sight. With shaking hands, he pulled one out of the box. Stephen was kneeling in the middle of the bed and Miles went back to him. He kissed his Master quickly and grasped his cock, pumping it a couple of times as their tongues entwined.

“Enough of that, Miles,” Stephen panted as he ripped his mouth from Miles’. “I want to be inside you. That’s what tonight is all about.”

Miles fumbled with the condom package, but eventually got it open. He managed to sheath his owner’s cock, trembling anew as he got a reminder of how big it was. He told himself that it had fit before and with relatively little pain involved. Even so, when he reached for the lube laying next to Stephen, he made sure to slather a lot of it on. It didn’t hurt to be careful.

“All right, my own,” Stephen encouraged him. “On your knees.”

Breathing hard, Miles moved to obey. He shivered as he felt his Master’s large body move behind his and closed his eyes. Warm hands grasped his hips and slid down, spreading his ass. Miles felt vulnerable and visions of past Claimings slid across his mind. He was almost sobbing as he felt the slick head of his Master’s cock press against his opening.

“Miles, open your eyes,” Stephen’s voice commanded. Miles had no choice but to obey.

He was kneeling facing the dresser that was just a foot or so away from the bed. In its mirror, he could see himself. He was pale, with wanton red lips swollen from kisses. Behind him was Stephen, with an unmistakable expression of love on his face.

Memories of Miles’ other Masters faded. He only had one Master now, the only one that mattered.

“That’s it, my own,” Stephen coaxed him. “Relax for me.”

Miles did his best to comply. This time when he felt Stephen’s cock begin to breach him, he kept his eyes fixated on the mirror. He concentrated on Stephen’s face and he could tell from his Master’s expression, as much from the way his own body felt, how deeply the other man had gotten inside. With every inch that Stephen’s slid in, the look of joy in his face deepened, until by the time Miles was fully penetrated, his Master wore an expression of triumph.

“Gods, I love you,” Stephen murmured. “You’re perfect.”

Miles wasn’t so sure about that. What he was sure of was that he felt very full. “Stephen.”

“Shhhh, my own,” his owner crooned. “Remember, you’ll adjust. We won’t move until you do. No pain, I promise.”

That voice soothed Miles as nothing else could and, when Stephen added long strokes down his back and flanks, it helped even more. He felt himself relax around the intruder deep in his ass and almost sobbed in relief.

“That’s it,” Stephen praised him, moving slightly as the passage he was buried in eased. “This feels good, just let yourself remember that.”

Miles closed his eyes again so he could concentrate on the sensations washing over him. Stephen’s cock in him, Stephen’s hands on him, Stephen’s voice encouraging him. His erection had softened during the initial penetration but was now firming up again. Stephen rocked his hips just then, sending frissons of pleasure through Miles’ body.

“Stephen.”

Something about Miles’ tone must have told his Master that he was okay. Miles heard Stephen’s warm chuckle and then everything narrowed to the sensation of Stephen’s careful pull and push as he began to thrust in truth. Miles’ hands fisted in the bedspread as his Master rode him, the power and gentleness of it lighting a fire within. To his surprise, he started rocking back, his body eager for more.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Stephen responded by thrusting a little harder, a little less carefully. “Gods, Miles, you’re so tight. So sweet.”

Miles’ world narrowed down to that bed and the man making him feel desire. They coupled for what felt like hours, their bodies gaining momentum as both men worked towards orgasm. Miles felt sweat run down his back and his Master’s hands on his hips, as Stephen continued to drive himself against the slave’s body.

“Stephen!”

The third time Miles uttered his owner’s name it was a demand and Stephen responded.

“Come here, my own,” he gasped.

Wrapping his arms around Miles’ waist, Stephen encouraged the younger man from his knees. By this time, Stephen was virtually kneeling back against the bed and he insisted that Miles sit in his lap. The change in position allowed for a much deeper penetration, although Stephen’s thrusts were inhibited. That didn’t mean they weren’t effective, though, especially when he added a twist to his hips that allowed his cock to directly nail Miles’ prostate. Miles didn’t have to balance his weight on his arms anymore, but that didn’t mean his hands were free. He steadied himself by putting them on Stephen’s thighs, his Master’s skin slick with sweat from their exertions.

“Open your eyes, Miles,” Stephen ordered. “Look at us.”

Miles eyes popped open and his gaze immediately went to the mirror; there they were. The two of them joined as one. Even as he watched, Stephen kissed the side of Miles’ neck and reached around to grab the slave’s erection.

“Come for me, Miles,” Stephen crooned. “Please, my own, come with me inside you.”

The touch and the pleading did Miles in. He closed his eyes as he felt his body crest, arching back against Stephen as the orgasm ripped through him. Vaguely, he heard Stephen cry out. He definitely felt the older man’s grip on his hips tighten even as he felt the warmth in his ass that was Stephen’s ejaculation.

Miles gasped as his body came down from its physical high. When he was next truly aware, he was still fully seated on Stephen’s lap, the older man’s arms wrapped around him and Stephen’s face pressed against the sweet spot between his shoulder blades. His ass throbbed around the cock that still impaled it. He looked at their reflection in the mirror and, even though it was hard to see around the new smudge on it, Miles thought he’d never seen two such satiated men.

“Stephen?”

“Mmmmm….” The older man murmured indistinctly. Then he seemed to rouse, pressing a kiss to each of Miles’ shoulder blades. “Are you all right, my own?”

Miles managed a tired grin. “Just look at the mirror and tell me if I’m okay.”

Stephen lifted his head and his eyes narrowed as he looked across the short distance to the dresser. As he realized what the smudge on the reflective glass, he snorted. “We’ll clean it up in the morning.”

The older man lifted Miles off of him, pausing when the slave hissed. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Miles shrugged. “I’m a little sore. Nothing that a soak in a warm tub won’t cure.”

Stephen insisted on checking and his sigh of relief was audible when he realized that Miles was right. The younger man’s ass was red from use, but there were no tears. Reassured on that front, Stephen wiggled until his head was on the pillow, bringing Miles close to cuddle with him.

“And how about everything else?” Stephen asked when he’d tucked Miles close. “Are you feeling okay about this?”

With the evidence of how ‘okay’ he was currently oozing down the mirror, Miles could hardly deny that he’d enjoyed sex with Stephen. He couldn’t quite call it making love, yet, but was beginning to believe that maybe someday he could.

“Miles?”

Miles hadn’t realized that he’d wandered deep into thought. He looked at Stephen and found his Master gazing back at him in concern.

“I’m fine, Stephen, just thinking.” He smiled when Stephen snorted. “Don’t worry, good thoughts this time. You know how you said that, if after the lessons, I wasn’t enjoying myself, we could try something else?” Stephen nodded and Miles continued. “I don’t think you have to worry about that any more.”

Stephen’s smile was bright enough to light up the whole room. “Good. I’m glad.” He kissed Miles then, but after the orgasms they’d both just had, it was a chaste kiss. It might have turned into something more, but Stephen yawned hugely.

“Try and get some rest,” Stephen advised him. “This is one lesson I want to make sure you understand. We might have to go over it a few times.”

Miles smiled, trying to keep the sadness from showing. He doubted he’d be able to sleep in a Master’s bed, even if that Master was Stephen Connor. Luckily, the other man didn’t seem to notice, just cuddled Miles closer and drifted off into his own slumber. Miles lay quietly beside him, sleepy but far from sleeping. It was a rare opportunity to just observe Stephen. Asleep, without the intense personality that drove him when he was awake, Stephen looked every bit as gentle as Miles knew him to be.

Stephen must have been aware on some level that he was being watched, because less than an hour later, he woke up. Blinking, he realized that Miles was still awake. “Can’t sleep?”

“No.”

Miles didn’t elaborate. He could practically see the thoughts working in Stephen’s mind and a few moments later, his Master’s arms opened as Stephen let him go.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Stephen apologized. “Why didn’t you just go back to your own bed?”

”That would be a poor way to repay you,” Miles answered, then hastened to explain further when he saw the disappointment that Stephen was too slow to hide. “And besides, I kind of liked watching you sleep.”

Stephen’s smile was oddly shy. “Well, you’re going to need your rest. Go. Sleep in your own bed; we can talk in the morning.”

Miles kissed him. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Stephen answered firmly. “And you know I always keep my promises.”

“I know,” Miles answered bashfully. “Believe me, Stephen, that I do know.”

With a last kiss, Miles slid out of the bed. He considered putting his discarded pants back on briefly, but left them where they lay. After what the two of them just shared, it would be silly to cover up know. He knew that Stephen watched as he left and was tempted to wiggle his butt. Much lighter of heart than he’d entered, he left the room and went back to his own.

As he shut the door behind him, it hit him.

He’d had sex with Stephen Connor, his Master, but it was different than the first time. After that encounter, Miles had fled, feeling used and betrayed, even though he now knew he had no reason to think either of those things. What a world of difference the lessons had made. Now Miles knew better. He wasn’t being used, he was being loved.

Miles crawled into his solitary bed, but knew it for his own choice and not that he was fleeing from emotional overload. With the light off, he stared at the ceiling, fingering his Chain. For once, it didn’t feel like a burden; it represented Stephen. His emotions about that were tangled and complex, but Miles knew that was about the slavery itself, not the man who owned him.

“I think I love you too,” he whispered.

Maybe, someday, he’d be able to tell Stephen that to his face.

~ the end ~