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Defiance 18+ (YellowMelon)


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Name: David Wēland Vertox

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Likes: Power, magic, cunning, domination

Dislikes: Rain, running water, showers, cold air

Abilities: Witchcraft (potions, conjuring, languages of magic, divination and spells)

Weaknesses: Dust, pollen, cold air, winds, etc. He has no well of power like a wizard would. His lungs are severely damaged. They are scarred, weak and there are sections of dead tissue. He has a larger than usual lung capacity but the oxygen doesn’t always make it to his blood. Sometimes his airways will constrict or he will bleed into them. He gets respiratory infections several times a year and always carries at least one puffer.

 

Personality: David’s mind, body and soul are tainted by torture and pain. His heart had once also been scarred but it had healed after the spells he’d cast over it wore off and healed. He is a scarred being, bordering on deranged. He is sexually devious, paranoid and self-centered. In essence, he is in survival mode, always trying to rise above that which hounded him. David is defensive and unyielding. He does not trust anyone and does not bow to them. He acts of his own accord and for his own benefit, nobody else's. The only other person he cares about is his oldest brother, though Demetri does not yet know. They have been estranged since David was eleven.

 

David pushes himself to his limits and works himself into exhaustion for his craft. He knows his limits incredibly well though, always tested them and always left enough for him to defend himself. He gets a rush from each spell he casts but has to be careful how much he uses, as he has no well of power to draw from. Instead, he uses his life force, body's physical energy and draws on free energy from the world around him. He still holds his sanity intact enough to keep himself in control. He is not evil, though perhaps dangerous in his anger. Nobody who knows him would ever consider him safe.

 

Biography: David is the second of four sons to Lord Louis Vertox. Vertox started training Demetri when David was four and started on David the next year. There were a lot of things Vertox did not like about his second son, who was supposed to be an opponent to challenge Demetri so both would rise to further heights. David refused and for the next two years lived to defy his father. At age seven, Vertox found out David was studying witchcraft and sought to purify him through water torture and drowning. A year later, at age eight, David developed lungs problems. He regularly had asthma attacks, pneumonia and respiratory infections. Despite this, David continued to defy his father. He remained a male witch, a homosexual and continued having incestuous thoughts for his brother.

 

It wasn't until the age of eleven when David decided to pull away from his brother because Demetri was defending him too much and getting punished for it. David did not know what was happening to Demetri and vice verse, they would only try to keep their father's attention off one another and end up both getting in trouble for things that would otherwise be minor. The last time he saw Demetri was when they were eighteen and nineteen. David turned up to a party in a horrible mental state, seemingly drunk, and lashed out at his brother. They fought hard and David did not back down, even though he is not as advanced a martial artist as his brother. Even when he was beaten into the ground he refused to stay down, letting himself get hit only to feel his brother's touch. After that, David burned out his heart in a ritual using a horse's heart. He collapsed from the spell and his father took advantage of it. He slit his son's wrists and made it look as though he suffered from borderline personality disorder. It was a false diagnosis but the mental institute was paid well to keep him in there for the next 100 days. His father would often visit to goad him, telling him of such things as losing his scholarship, early entry into university and would have to repeat his last year of schooling.

 

David was eventually let out early but instead of going home he was sent to a one bedroom apartment in town. All his more personal possessions had been destroyed or locked away, leaving only clothes and other necessities. He has lived there ever since. He had plans to gatecrash his brother's graduation and announce his return into Demetri's life but his father got to him first. David's dabbling into witchcraft had seen him suck the life force out of two men he thought would go unnoticed, leaving them each with only a month left to live. Unfortunately, Lord Vertox was waiting for such a conviction and bought it down upon David with the full force of the law. In case there wasn't enough evidence to convict him, he was also accused of raping and erasing the memories of the men who came into his bed. Several men came forward with similar stories but there was no evidence to prove what happened was non-consensual.

 

 

 

 

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Name: Vesper Len Hazsarath

Age: 27

Race: Demon

Strengths: Shadow magic and night vision

Weaknesses: He doesn't like to be anything less than fully covered. He has mild mysophobia. He doesn't like anyone who moves too fast, speaks too fast or acts unpredictably.

Biography: Vesper's story really starts when he went into a local antique store. He often went to such places because he found them curious and was very particular about what he wore. One one such expedition through the antique stores he noticed something new, or at least new to the store. On one of the shelves was a thing. It looked like a little wooden house and had numbers around the circumference of a little circle on the lower level. He'd never seen anything like it before so he picked it up and began toying with it. After glancing to see that nobody was looking, he prized the little doors open and peeked inside, where he found a little bird with a red chest. It looked as though someone had taken the care to glue individual feathers across the bird's entire body. There were even little amber gems that gave off a faint sparkle from where it hid. This was a passion begun.

 

Since then, Vesper has had a fascination with wheels and cogs. He began collecting anything that worked with mechanisms rather than electricity and began studying how they worked. Eventually he even tried to make a few himself. The first ones were rather bland looking and the springs burst in one but he kept trying. For hours on end he'd sit at home drawing more and more complicated diagrams. Finally he understood the ways of the ancient devices.

 

During this time, he still managed to come out of his dwelling. People remarked that for a small while he spoke more than usual. He had more passion and excitement than usual, which wasn't much compared to them. He spoke of the thing, his ideas and a cave he'd found. He never said where it was or what was in it, only that he'd found something.

 

Vesper was thinking of cogs, wheels and eggs. He'd played around with the ideas for so much time that a pattern was starting to emerge, a creation. He'd scribble down different views of the pattern and even a few different makes until he was ready to make his idea have form. He'd practised, studied and taught himself the ways of the cog. He was now ready. He would create his first magnum opus, his first secret keeping egg. When it was built he sanded and polished it so smooth that he could see his reflection on it. The paint came next. He wasn't a great artist but he was persistent, detailed and had a perfect picture in his mind. This first egg was pearlescent green to blue with a gold top player. For the gold layer he needed magnifying glasses to complete, the work was so intricate and so time consuming. It was done in Celtic design with a bare area where he painted a golden snake, which curled around like a four-leaf clover. Into this first egg he whispered his full name. The wheels turned and the cogs hummed against one another. He closed the egg then listened to the sound of the lock clicking into place.

 

He placed the egg on his mantle piece and stood back. He was content again.

 

Since his first egg, Vesper has made many more. He now has a whole vault of them locked away inside the back of his home. He sells them and is paid to keep them locked away in his vault. There is only one way in and one way out and he has the only key to it hidden amongst the many pockets of his jacket. He has many pairs of other keys too but they are only for decoration. They do not yet have any lock for them to fit within.

 

Personality: Vesper is a quiet man: solitary and refined. Even his voice is as soft as the gentle hum of the eggs he so lovingly guards. He is the type of person who does not approach someone lightly, or even notice them lightly. There is always a reason for everything he does, and it has to be a good reason otherwise he simply will not do it. He's not a very active person. At times this makes him seem lazy or sluggish but in fact it's simply because it takes a great deal for him to change.

 

It takes a lot for Vesper to decide to act upon something, and usually it's done after a great deal of thought. He doesn't like surprises or spontaneity at all. It's most likely he'll think about his actions for a long time after they've happened too.

 

Extra: Vesper holds many secrets. He takes them away and locks them in his precious eggs, his magnum opera. Each one is lovingly hand crafted and locked away in a vault deep in demon territory. His duty is to guard over them and protect the keys and their locks with is very life. He spends much of his life locked away, wondering amongst his eggs and playing them. The sounds of the wheels and cogs ticking over in time with the words of secrecy is music to his ears.

 

When he is not guarding his eggs he can usually be found wondering about antique stores looking for old clockwork artifacts. He prefers alternative and demon run stores but he will sometimes hood up and hope to go unnoticed in human stores. He has a fascination with old things, especially keys and clocks. He can spend hours holding a piece and moving it around in his hands, studying its intricacies, faults and workings.

 

Vesper does not like the cold, which is why he keeps his hair long and clothes covering as much of his skin as possible. He is usually wearing more then two layers too, though most are tight fitting. He doesn't like the feel of baggy clothing because it moves around too much, making the air around him stir and chill his skin. He doesn't like the look of baggy clothes either. He considers them rather dumpy looking.

 

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⎈ 5’7” without boots, but with heels, which he likes to wear, can be several inches taller depending on the height of the heel. He also has a slim, fit body with little muscle.

⎈ Eyes are a dull and emotionless dark brown.

⎈ Dyed lava hair with a few strands highlighted white, and his undyed, dark brown hair can be seen underneath. His hair goes from midback length in front to hip length in back. He cuts his own hair and brushes it every day until he can easily run a comb through it.

⎈ Pale complexion that burns easily, which is why he likes to stay indoors. He also has pale lips that turn blue when cold and he tends to bite his bottom lip out of habit.

⎈ He has a tattoo (as shown above) on his left shoulder and a tattoo on the underside of his right wrist. The tattoo on his wrist, a bright red circle, was put on him when he was caught stealing to mark him as a thief, but he usually hides it.

 

Name: Eli Ries

Age: 26

Race: Human

Strength:

+ Can be very manipulative to get what he wants.

+ Swift and silent in his movements. He likes making sneak attacks or sneaking around places where he, usually, isn’t allowed.

Weaknesses:

- Eli can be an instigator, and, when he starts, he doesn’t know when to stop.

- He can be oblivious to his surroundings and can get lost/distracted easily if he’s not given instructions.

Extra: Eli worked his way up to becoming the head slave and, although he isn’t always obedient, he likes the position he’s in and will do anything to keep it.

 

 

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✧ 6’4” including the height of his horns, with an average weight and muscular body.

✧ Eyes are turquoise with cat-like pupils that have a shiny reflection to them, making them look as though they are covered by a thin layer of water. He also has thick eyelashes.

✧ Platinum color, neck length hair with longer, armpit lengths bangs. His hair is naturally messy, sticks out in many directions, and curls outward, but he slicks back his hair with gel before going out anywhere.

✧ Somewhat pale complexion that can turn ghost white without sunlight or with sickness. He has a few, light scars covering his body, unnoticeable to the naked eye, and his lips have a glossy, red look to them.

✧ Each of his pointed ears have three piercings on them, his two horns are covered with a sheet of silver armor, and he always files his fangs and fingernails.

✧ He does have a tail, although not shown in the picture, which is covered in scales and made out of muscle, with the tip of his tail being a spear.

 

Name: Dexter Gordanav

Age: 29

Race: Demon

Abilities:

+ Shadow Magic (he can manipulate darkness, summon lesser demons, and summon shadows.

+ Night vision

Weaknesses

- His tail is extremely sensitive, and he doesn’t like anyone touching it.

- He doesn’t like touching people with his hands, which is why he wears leather gloves. Without his leather gloves, he either won’t touch someone or be very reluctant to.

Extra: Dexter has a lot of exotic pets.

 

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The guards were taking no chances with this one. Even with the collar on preventing him from using any magic, David was a cunning son of a bitch. Already he'd broken out of the prison once and made it just past the perimeter before he'd been shot down with tranquilisers. The beating he'd received afterwards had had to be taken care of by a healing demon because there was no way they could show him off and sell him in that state. He'd turned to taunting his guards after that, knowing they couldn't touch him without ruining the sale. He knew his worth. There weren't many practicing witches left amongst humans, they knowledge had near been snuffed out by demonkind who did not trust such power to human hands. It was not outlawed but many witches found themselves in the very same position David Vertox was now in - demon ownership.

 

'I can walk myself!' David growled as he tried to himself free of the guards again.

 

The two men had a tight hold of his chains and there was a third with a taser pressed to his bare back. He couldn't get away but that didn't mean he was going to do things their way. He constantly tugged his arms out of one or the other's grip, stopped suddenly or shoved his body at them. So long as he didn't actually break free, which he had no intention of doing currently, they wouldn't use their weapons on him.

 

'It makes your dick hard pointing that thing at a defenceless prisoner, doesn't it? You can tell me,' he said as the taser was pushed firmly into his back in a way that was meant to be threatening. It was more annoying than anything though. David stopped suddenly and shoved his weight backwards. He spun on his heel, smacked his shackled wrists down then kicked the taser beyond the man's reach. David was yanked backwards by the chain running down his back and he almost stumbled – almost. He took a few steps back and let the momentum propel him into the guard. He elbowed the man hard before spinning around and walking forward. When he was a few steps ahead of the men, he stopped and turned his head to call over his shoulder.

 

‘Hurry up, men. You’re going to make me late,’ he demanded as he walked himself to the pickup zone. His bright green eyes glinted with delight at having got one up on them.

 

Despite David’s efforts to goad the guards and taunt them, they made good time getting to where the master would pick up the new slave. He was bound in chains running down the back and front of his body that connected down to his ankles. There was another attachment up between his neck and wrists so he couldn’t use his hands to break away. He was entirely naked, showing of his private wares and strong chest. There was a thick cuff of tattoos about four inches wide around each of his wrists that would normally allow him to cast and maintain smaller spells without needing to utter them. They covered a thick scar at each wrist that looked like he’d attempted to slit his wrists more than once. They were raised and thick, as though at least once they’d been cut down to the tendons.

 

One of the guards grabbed him by the back of his highlighted brown hair and he shook his head. He tugged his head out of reach but only managed to make himself wince. It seemed there would be no letting him go without a fight.

 

‘This would be easier on you if you stopped fighting it,’ he said.

‘But I’m having so much fun,’ he said sarcastically.

David received a rough yank of his head and was shoved forward.

‘You sit,’ the man ordered.

 

The young man was forced down onto a long bench seat while the men stood behind him. He reached down as far as he could to try to cover himself and rub off some discomfort in his groin but the chains wouldn’t stretch that far. Instead he just looked around and sighed. The demon who was coming to pick him up hadn’t arrived yet. He didn’t think of the man as his master so he wouldn’t use that word to describe whatever was coming to get him. David went for another yank to dislodge the man holding his hair but to no avail.

 

‘So what do you know about this demon I’m supposed to be working for?’ he asked.

‘Do you mean your new master?’ the guard holding his hair asked..

‘Yeah, that bastard.’

‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

David scowled. The arsehole knew something, he was sure of it.

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A white limousine pulled in front of the bench where the slave was seated. Tinted windows hid the passenger in the rear seat, but the chauffeur could clearly be seen moving the gear shift to park. It was no mistake that this limousine was here at the time when a master was supposed to pick up his slave. It was this car that held the master, and the demon, who had yet to make an appearance. For a long while, nothing happened. The chauffeur stayed behind the wheel, looking forward, and the passenger door remained closed. A few more minutes passed when, finally, the door was pushed open. The demon stepped out of the limousine, ducking his head to not hit his horns, and towered over the men in his presence. He had a leather notebook in his hand and a golden watch on his wrist. His first task was to check the time, then it was to introduce himself.

 

“Dexter Gordanav.” He stated, not bothering to add a welcoming hello or how are you. He was here for business, not to waste time with meaningless chatter. “I have the documentation here saying that this is my slave.” Dexter held out the document for the guards to see. Both his signature and that of the seller were at the bottom of the page. “Now, if you would remove your hand off my slave,” he eyed the man who held onto the brown hair, “And let me have the keys to unlock the chains, I’ll be on my way.” The demon held out his hand for the objects. Upon receiving them and his document back, he immediately pulled the slave to his feet by the chain between his neck and wrists. “David Wēland Vortex,” he spoke to himself as he opened up his journal and wrote down the name in red pen, “I need your measurements.”

 

Inattentive to whether the guards left or stayed, and uncaring, Dexter turned around and disappeared into the limousine before reappearing with a tape measure. His document and keys were left on the passenger seat as he unrolled the plastic ruler. He, then, wrapped the tape measure around the waist of his new slave, going under the chains that stood in his way. He recorded the measurement in his journal and used the tape measure, again, to take another body measurement. His tight leather gloves slid along the skin of the younger man with every new measurement. He would measure and record one body area several times, always overwriting the previous measurement with a new one, to be as accurate as possible.

 

While he pressed the tape measure against David, he also felt around for any imperfections. His hands swiftly ran up and down his body, and recorded any markings or scars. No place was off-limits, even in his nudity. Dexter failed to make any eye contact with the slave as he did this and stayed quiet most of the time, except for the occasional numbers he repeated under his breath. By now, and even before, it was obvious the demon was not a first-time master. He had bought many humans before this one, which was why he was doing such extensive research. David was part of his business, the business of buying, selling, and training slaves for auctions. His father had done it, and he inherited his position. He had to upkeep his reputation as heir to his inheritance.

 

When he pulled away from the body he was touching, it was a signal that he was done. He finalized the measurements in his journal, which was now a page full of red ink, and left a couple of lines blank for other information he planned to gather. "Height? Age?" Dexter asked, not looking at the slave, but staring at the page. He could have easily taken the height of the individual, but he found it to be more accurate when asking the slave directly. However, if the slave chose not to answer, he could always guess, using his height as a comparison to find the other. Impatient with a reply, and expecting Vesper to meet him soon, Dexter shut his journal closed with his pen dueling as a bookmark.

 

“You can answer the questions in the car.” He stated, collecting his belonging off the seat and sliding down the row of leather. The leather seating lined one wall of the limousine and continued along the back to form a half u-shape. Parallel to the seating was an aquarium and a mini fridge. Dexter forcefully pulled his slave onto the end seat by his chains, then reached over his body to slam the door shut. "We’ll leave momentarily.” The demon wasn’t afraid to leave his half-brother behind if he was running a second late. He had done it before and, with a new slave waiting with him, his patience was wearing thin by the second.

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The man crossed his legs as best he could and sat back to eye off the limousine. It was no surprise this master came from money if they could afford a witch. David knocked at the man holding his hair while he waited, receiving a harsh yank that had him scowling. He whacked at the man holding him and received another shake just as the door opened. The grip on his hair tightened but he was too interested in the man alighting the car.

 

The man wasn’t too bad looking, for a demon of course. He was taller than David would have liked and he looked like a banker or some sort of nerd. It seemed strange to David that the man would be carrying around a book for notes. He’d never seen the slave sales before so had no clue how they were conducted but the way the man was behaving did seem odd. His manner was nothing less than cold-blooded. Then again, the man was a demon so many it shouldn’t have been a surprise. Those bastards were fucked up.

 

‘Dexter Gordanav,’ the man with the taser repeated. ‘That’s right. We have you here for the 12pm pick up. If you’d kindly show 100 points of I.D, we’ll get the paperwork sorted and you can take him with you.’

 

The guard holding the taser waved to one of the two men holding David let go of the slave’s hair and opened up a plastic file with the last of the paperwork in it. He unzipped it to remove the release papers. The head guard signed his end and waited for Dexter to sign the other part and record which I.D. he would be using before the papers, release receipt and keys were handed back to Dexter.

 

‘You’ll want to keep the chains and collar on this one. Don’t trust him for a second,’ the guard said.

‘Oh, come on. What am I going to do running around naked like this?’ David asked, rolling his eyes.

‘You got out of the compound while naked; I doubt it bothers you,’ one of the two men said.

‘I’ll have you know I do not enjoy having my inheritance swinging freely,’ he scowled.

 

The moment he was yanked to his feet, David shoved the man back. It wasn’t with full force but it would likely cause the man to take a step back. At the very least the demon would know David preferred to stand of his own accord. He straightened himself up to his full height and eyed the other man off as though he were a piece of meat. David was so arrogant and obvious about it, it was hard to tell who was the master and who was the slave if not for the chains around David’s body.

 

'The name's Vertox, Poindexter. Get it right next time,' David grunted. ‘Now if you’ll kindly remove these chains...’

 

David scowled as the man started measuring and whacked the demon’s hands away. He was not at all attracted or excited by the man’s touch. It was impersonal and far too probing for David’s liking. Through the whole affair he grabbed at the man’s wrists, shoved them back and generally showed his disapproval. He figured the demon likely needed his measurements to have clothes made for him but he still did not approve of doing it at the slave pick-up point.

 

‘Get off it!’ he growled. ‘You can do that in private.’

 

There was an arcane tattoo cuffing each of David’s wrists, inscribed in blank ink. They started at the crease of David’s wrist and covered half his forearm. The markings were written in an ancient language used now only used by those who cast spells. The details were incredibly fine in order to get as much information on them as possible; they were writ with no human hand. They had been cast upon David’s arms by yet another spell rather than chancing human error. For those who could read the spells, they would learn the left drew upon power to cast a spell and the right drew upon power to maintain a spell. It meant that, without the suppression collar around his neck, David did not have to speak to cast lower range or simple spells with only one layer upon them. Anything more advanced or with multiple levels to it would still have to use the traditional symbols, utterances, diagrams and written word.

 

Beneath the two spells at each wrist, there was an ugly, thick scar as though David had attempted suicide on more than one occasion. They were very deep, even down to the tendons, but they were old and had healed as much as they ever would. The placing of the tattoos hid them well enough but the placing was convenient rather than deliberate.

 

‘You’ve got my papers, don’t you? They’ll have my date of birth. Figure it out for yourself,’ he snapped. He held his hand up and waved them in front of the man’s face. Dexter hadn’t once looked him in the eye and it was getting annoying. ‘Aren’t you going to take these shackles off?’

 

David rolled his shoulders and tugged the chains to get the demon off him but otherwise decided he’d rather be in the car than standing in the slave lots. He scowled at the way he was being man-handled and sat as close to the door as possible. The chain down his back was uncomfortable to sit on and he shifted around a bit before settling. He stared out the window and discreetly studied the car he was sitting in. He didn’t bother speaking to the demon or acknowledging him any further. It was as if the demon was a servant there to escort him home.

 

Vesper always told himself to be somewhere ten minutes before he actually needed to arrive. If he was meant to be somewhere at 6pm, he would tell himself he needed to be there by 5:50pm at the latest. It was a grace period so times like today never happened. He was always found himself searching through curios and workshops longer than intended and would otherwise be late to most meetings. Today was one such instance where he’d overshot the grace period. It was likely his half-brother wasn’t even in town anymore. It would be just like Dexter to ditch his brother even a second after the allotted time.

 

Thankfully, this time his brother was still there.

 

‘Dexter,’ was the only greeting his half-brother received as Vesper opened the door to the limousine. There was no point commenting on the slave in the car, no point continuing any conversation. He had a few parcels parts he needed for his mechanical eggs and some little tubs of metallic paint to decorate them with. They were the reason he’d come so far into town, which was a rare occasion indeed. The young demon spent most of his time training slaves, with Eli or working on his mechanical eggs. He didn’t like the hustle and bustle of the town with everyone moving so fast and carrying on like monkeys. Versper was glad to slip into the car, parcels on his lap, and get away from it all.

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Dexter was in no mood to play games, especially not with this slave. If he thought he would have his chains unlocked soon, he was poorly mistaken. The demon never let a slave free of his chains before arriving at their designated location. A free slave could easily become an escaped slave. But, even if Dexter had considered loosening the chains on his slave, any compassion was quickly thrown out the window because of the way he acted. Slaves tended to fall into three categories, based on their behavior, as the demon learned through his business.

 

The most common group were the ones, like David, who put up a fight. They don't give in easily and they need constant attention, but they're not unbreakable. Dexter found this group the hardest to work with, but he always had fun when having them trained. He liked watching them struggle, then loved to seeing them give in. The second group, which he dealt with often, knew how to push the right buttons and play their cards right. Whether they liked being a slave or not, and they likely didn't, they were on their best behavior. They listened, they obeyed, and they sought to please their master. The third group, and the most rare, were the quietest. The quiet ones are the ones that have to be watched out for, as they say. These slaves were boring and quick to be thrown out because of their unsatisfying behavior. Dexter knew some masters who liked such slaves, which was why he had a few, but he, personally, would rather toss them or sell them.

 

Dexter reopened his journal on his lap to stick the papers he had collected inside it. While there was still missing information to be filled out, he didn't worry about it too much. He could keep David as long as he wanted. Just because he bought a slave to be sold didn't mean he had to put him on the market right away. He still had to have him trained and disciplined. Until then he was unsuitable for sale. When Vesper finally met him in the limousine, the chauffeur immediately hit the gas pedal, jolting them back into the cushioned seats. The chauffeur knew how precious time was to the demons, and he didn't want to be the one to get in their way. The ride back from town was, usually, a twenty minute drive, but the driver knew how to cut it down to fifteen by taking the back roads. A five minute difference didn't seem like much, but it was when the traffic from an auction could turn a twenty minute wait into an hour stop. For this return, the chauffeur chose wisely, as he did with every new slave. Dexter wasn't the only one who acted out of habit.

 

For ten minutes, out of the fifteen minute drive, Dexter nonstop, mindlessly talked to his half-brother and to the slave. Most of what he said Vesper had heard before, going through the same basic rules he always did when buying a new slave. All slaves followed the same rules, except for the ones that were higher up in rank. They had some freedoms that were off-limits to the newcomers.

 

"Rule number one," he didn't bother to look at David, although he was talking to him, "You are not to talk back. You already broke this rule more than a few times, but the first day for a new slave will always be the easiest." At least, with Dexter it was, but the same statement couldn't be made for other masters. "Rule number two," Dexter continued to look out the window, "You are not to act aggressively towards your master or to any other slave in the household. Neither are you to act aggressively towards any visitors. If they tell you to do something, you do it, unless I specifically tell you not to. The words of your master should always be listened to first." Rule number three was stated at the end of rule two, but, still, he continued counting.

 

"Rule number four," he looked at Vesper as he said this, "Under no circumstances are you to sleep with the other slaves. The only slave you will have contact with for the rest of the day is the head slave, but you are not to touch him." The head slave was to be used for training purposes only. He knew Vesper wouldn't have it any other way. "Rule number five, the last rule," Dexter finally turned to look at the witch, "If you misbehave you will receive a punishment, which you are not to complain about. However, if you do choose to complain, for every complaint, another slave will suffer the punishment with you." No rules were offered to be repeated after they were listed, and no question of "do you understand?" was asked to make sure that the slave really understood. For Dexter, the problem wouldn't be a misunderstanding, but that he wasn't listening.

 

The last five minutes of the ride was spent in silence, except for a few words muttered here and there, with Dexter speaking to himself. When the ride was over, the limousine had parked in front of a brick mansion. From the outside, the mansion appeared to be two-stories, up kept, and with no inhabitants. No one was outside to greet them, and, because the mansion was isolated from the town, the land was silent. Dexter, again, reached over David, but this time it was to open the door, not to shut it, and, instead of shoving David out, the demon left him in the car to approach the double wooden doors. One knock was all it took for the doors to be answered.

 

Eli hadn't expected his masters to come back so soon. He was used to them leaving, especially since they had a business to run, but the time they always returned varied from an hour to several hours. He had anticipated the latter, so, when he heard a knock on the door, he first had to look through the peep hole to know who it was. When he saw Dexter, he immediately opened the doors, hoping that Vesper would be with him. Everyone knew he had a habit of forgetting his half-brother or purposefully leaving him. With the open doors, all the noise that filled the mansion was let out. Slaves were yelling at slaves, servants were doing their chores, and someone was yelling for Eli, but the head slave kept his composure.

 

"Welcome back," he spoke his usual greeting with a quick bow, "I'll get everything out of the limo." Eli waited for Dexter to pass him into the house before he momentarily disappeared into the mansion himself, only to reappear with a black fabric leash. With every new slave, he was responsible for bringing them into the mansion and preparing them for training. On days like these, he had to devote his time to helping the newbie. Eli walked up to slave and, without a sound, clipped the leash onto the collar. He liked to get things done fast; it was better for both him and the slave. Not immediately forceful, the long-haired individual took his time to look through the journal, which Dexter had purposefully left behind for his use, to gain information about the slave he now had control of.

 

"Vertox, huh?" He closed the journal. "I'm the head slave. I'm sure the master already went over the main rules with you, but I'll be introducing some more throughout the day. First, I'll give you a tour of the mansion, then you'll be bathed, fed, and trained." Eli excitedly tugged on the leash; he couldn't wait to get started. It was always fun training a new slave. It was times like these that he forgot about Vesper, and, in his excitement, he had completely ignored Vesper, not giving him a glance or a greeting.

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David was in fact not listening to Dexter at all. He was far too busy looking for the opportune moment to escape. He picked up scraps of what the demon was saying, something about rules, but missed the first three rules completely. He scoffed after Dexter said the fourth rule about not touching other slaves. Like he was going to follow that. He'd goddamned touch who he wanted to touch and have sex with who he wanted to have sex with. Little things like rules never stopped him before and they wouldn't stop him now. There had once been a time, not long past, when he'd had his own set of slaves to molest and fuck. The only person whose rules he had respected were his older brother's. For some reason the man liked to rehabilitate broken slaves by nurturing them and downright coddling them, at least in David's opinion. They were the only "off-limits" people David never touched, as it was counter-intuitive to Demetri's cause. David respected his brother so respected the man's rules. He did not respect this demon therefore could not give a damn about his rules. With any luck David would be gone soon anyway.

 

'Like I'd want to touch any of your slaves. They're likely all simpering idiots who wouldn't know their arse from their mouth,' he said without bothering to look at Dexter. He didn't comment about getting other slaves beaten for his complaints. He genuinely didn't care if the man beat other slaves on his behalf. He had no reason to care about Dexter's property.

 

The witch leaned forward in his seat and shifted about. The chain under his arse was getting uncomfortable and he saw no chance to make a break for it. They were going the backstreets rather than the main way across the busy bridge. He would have waited until they'd just ascended the bridge when it was near impossible to turn around. The plan was to jog - not run, for it would set off his asthma - as far in the opposite direction as possible, hide in amongst the buildings and find someone who could take off his suppression collar. The moment it was off he would be able to teleport to the shed at Demetri's home. He wouldn't be able to notify his brother that he'd escaped, it would be best his brother remained ignorant so he didn't have to lie when the investigators came knocking. Alas, they came to no heavy traffic, one way streets or long bridges so David had to sit there and ignore Dexter talking to his brother for the rest of the trip. Luckily, it wasn't far from the slave lots.

 

Vesper shifted the parcels on his lap and gracefully alighted the car. He immediately looked about for Eli to give him the load then remembered his slave would be attending Dexter's new acquisition for the rest of the day. He let out a soft sigh of mild disappointment and walked up to the doorway carrying his packages. He watched for the new slave and studied him. The slave was rather attractive - for a human. He was well built with plenty of muscle and had the most startling light green eyes. He was well endowed too, quite formidable in size where it counted. The slave noticed Vesper staring and glared straight back at him. Vesper raised his head slightly at the challenge in the man's eyes and walked over to him. He reached up and went to grasp the slave's jaw but was knocked back immediately.

 

'Is there something wrong with your eyes, slave?' Vesper asked in his quiet voice. He'd raised it just a little in annoyance.

'Yes, you're in them. Stop fucking perving and lower your eyes.'

'It is you who should lower your eyes, slave. Dexter, do you have the whip?' he called, not taking his eyes off David.

 

The demon then walked off, David was no concern of his. He had better things to do than bloody his hands with human blood or arguing with a slave. That one wouldn't last long. He'd seen the type before. David was arrogant and pampered but he would break soon enough. As he came past Eli, he stopped a moment and looked across at him. That he bothered to make eye contact showed how much he preferred, though perhaps not respected, Eli. He was a good slave, did what he was told and was pleasing to the eyes. It was obvious though that Eli was far more interested in the new slave than his own master so Vesper let out a soft tut and considered the outcomes of striking the man across the face. He decided to wait until later.

 

'Try not to take too long, I'd like you back after supper,' he said in a mild manner. He then ducked away to unpack his parcels.

 

The slave stretched himself out and cleared his throat a few times, not to attract attention but to clear away the feeling of tightness. He looked about the mansion he'd mansion he'd been brought to and studied it in great detail, wanting to know as much about it as possible. He'd at least be diligent as he was shown about the place, even if he did not bother with what was being told to him. As soon as the collar was brought up to him, he yanked it out of Eli's grip and threw it across the yard. He already had chains, shackles and a limitation collar. He didn't need a leash and collar too.

 

'I am not wearing that,' he stated adamantly. 'Yes, the name's Vertox. Who are you, head slave, or is that what they call you now?'

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Eli watched the short confrontation between his master and the new slave. He couldn't say he appreciated what Vesper was doing, but he was in no position to stop him. If Vesper wanted to provoke a reaction from David, he was free to do so. However, it wouldn't make it any easier on Eli, or make him move any faster. In fact, it almost guaranteed that he wouldn't be finished before or after supper, which he knew the demon wouldn't be too pleased about. If Eli had a choice to attend to the slave or his own master, he certainly would have attended to the latter. He liked being able to train the new slaves because it gave him something to do, but it was also a long and tiring process. By the way the slave spoke, he could already predict how much time he would have to spend with him. Some slaves took a few days to break in, others took several weeks. It would take Eli more than a couple of days to get David fully trained, which meant he would have to devote a week or more of his time to train the slave.

 

Eli was unfazed when David grabbed the collar and leash from his hands, letting out a sigh of annoyance. If he didn't want to wear the collar, he wouldn't make him wear the collar. At least, not yet. He wouldn't even make him retrieve the items he had rudely thrown into the air. What he would make him do, though, was bathe, but, before he could do that, he would have to get him into the mansion. If he had the leash on him, Eli could have made some attempt to pull him through the doors. However, since he had aggressively thrown the collar and leash away, the head slave had to call for some help.

 

"Master Gordanav!" He yelled, knowing that, if he didn't hear him, one of the servants would go get him. If Eli had the strength of a demon, he wouldn’t need assistance, but, alas, he was human, and, compared to David, was the weaker being. "You can call me head slave." The witch would hear his name eventually, which was why Eli didn't feel obligated to tell him himself, along with the fact that he didn't like his attitude.

 

Dexter had stopped in the main entrance of the mansion to remove the silver armor that covered his horns, and handed them to one of the servants for cleaning. While the silver armor protected his horns from scratching and breaking, they couldn't prevent staining. The white keratin had lines of off-white discoloration, which Dexter ordered a slave to brush. However, just as he sat down to have them brushed, he could hear his name being called. It was Vesper wanting “the whip,” but the specific whip his half-brother actually wanted, Dexter had no idea where or what it was. He had many whips, but he hadn’t been carrying any with him.

 

“Get a riding crop off the wall.” The demon kept all his riding crops organized on crop hangers scattered throughout the mansion. He liked to have whips readily available whenever he needed one. Although they couldn’t do as much damage as other whips within the household, he liked the style of riding crops, and, since he didn’t own any horses, he only had one use for them. “If you’re looking for a stronger one, they should be in the training room.” Dexter didn’t know why Vesper wanted a whip to begin with, but he could only assume that it was for Eli or David. As Dexter waited for his horns to be brushed, with the slave gathering the proper items to do the brushing, he heard his name coming from outside again. This time, no question followed after his name, which meant the demon had to get up and walk outside to see what the problem was. “What do you need?” Dexter asked, standing in front of the head slave and his slave.

 

“I can’t put a collar and leash on him right now. Will you move him to the bathroom?”

 

Without added words, Dexter grabbed David by the chains that connected to his wrists and brought him into the main entrance. In the main entrance, there were two staircases, parallel to each other, that lead to the second floor of the house. Between those two staircases, on the first floor, was a circular, wooden table with a pile of collar and leashes on it, and, on each side of the table, was a hallway. Dexter brought the slave to the left side of the table, down that hallway, and pushed him into the first door on their left. “Stay” was all the master said, not taking one step into the white marble bathroom. “Don’t let this happen again.” He, then, demanded of Eli, who had followed close behind the master and slave.

 

Once Eli stepped into the bathroom with David, and the demon had left to return to his brushing, the head slave shut the door behind him, although not completely, leaving it a crack open. “Good, now we can start,” Eli immediately got down to business, tying his hair into a messy ponytail and kicking off his boots. Besides his boots, Eli wore a baggy, white t-shirt that reached to his midthigh and covered his briefs, neither of which he bothered to take off. Just because David was naked didn’t mean he had to match his unclothed state.

 

“I’ll unlock your chains.” The belongings he had collected from the limousine he had given to a servant before he walked into the bathroom, but he kept the keys to free David. Now, he wasn’t actually going to free the slave because he wanted to give him his freedom, but because it would be easier to wash him without the obstructions. Eli unlocked the chains on the wrists, then tossed the keys onto the sink counter. “You can finish the rest,” the head slave sounded as though he was doing David a great favor, allowing him to unlock himself the rest of the way, “Make sure you push the chains against the wall so no one trips on them.” After somewhat instructing the slave on what to do, although it was more of a suggestion, Eli sat on the edge of the rectangular tub, closed off the drain, and turned on the water. He didn’t wait for the water to warm, but let the tub silently fill to the brim. “Get in, get in,” Eli rushed as soon as the tub was filled, motioning for David come. This wasn’t going to be some luxury bath, but a quick wash of the body.

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It was amusing to see the effeminate head slave call for his master when he himself could not do anything to make David budge. David smirked in amusement at how ineffectual the system here was proving to be. He was sure he could run rings around these people if this is how they acted with new slaves. He wouldn't push them intentionally though. David had no intention of seeing where his limits were and how far he could go until they cracked. He would rather they did not crack, he liked to keep himself in one piece after all.

 

'Slave shall be your name then,' David replied. He was not going to defer to the head slave as though he were of higher position.

 

Vesper took the riding crop from Dexter, wishing there was something heavier on hand. He placed his parcels down on the table inside and walked back out to David, who was standing there as proud and arrogant as any king. The man obviously didn't understand his situation. They were not servants running around at his bidding, they were his masters to punish and treat him as they saw fit. The demon held the riding crop in one hand and tapped it against the other gloves hand. There were a few things he wanted to get straight with the human before he became a problem. Unlike Dexter, Vesper did not like the type of slave that fought against their masters. He hated their seeming unpredictability, loud noises and resistance. The demons arrowhead tail danced back and forth in annoyance.

 

'You fail to understand the situation you find yourself in,' Vesper said in a soft yet stern tone as he walked over. 'You are a slave. You committed a crime and these are the consequences. You are no longer free to do as you please, think as you please and behave with the attitude you are used to. You must learn to adapt, Vertox, or you will be destroyed. Smart slaves learn to behave themselves. It is better for everyone, especially yourself, if you learn to curb your attitude and comply with instructions.'

 

David looked Vesper up and down. He laughed hard and watched as Vesper grit his teeth. Did the demon actually expect the sight of a puny riding crop and a few words to get him to behave like a good little slave? The witch just turned away and walked off, laughing to himself at how ridiculous the man's advice was. Okay, it wasn't that ridiculous but he wasn't about to heed it. He would bow to no demon.

 

Alas, or perhaps luckily, for Vesper, Dexter came along and yanked David along before things could get ugly. Vesper was in a relatively good mood and did not want it spoiled by the irritating creature. At least now he would not have to cleanse himself all over after beating the slave as well as possible with the riding crop. He shuddered to think of getting any of that dirty blood from him. All slaves were dirty in Vesper's opinion until they had been thoroughly trained and scrubbed off. Only then would he bother to touch them, and still need to change his gloves and wash his hands afterwards. It was exactly what Vesper was off to do now. He needed to clean himself up after going out for the morning and he needed to sterilise the parts he'd bought before he could bring them into his workshop.

 

A sharp, annoyed hiss escaped David's mouth as he was dragged along by the chains. He yanked them back and scowled at the back of the demon dragging him along but there was little he could do to stop it. He pulled hard once then moved forward so it looked as if the demon was guiding him rather than dragging him along like a village goat. All the while, David kept his eyes sharp and back proudly stiff. He was looking about the place and committing it to memory. He certainly didn't like the situation but he wasn't going to sulk about it. He was always looking for opportunities to turn it to his advantage. If only he could get that damned limitation collar off. Unfortunately for him, he could not touch it without setting it off; someone else had to do that for him.

 

'Piss off,' came a quick sneer as David was told to stay, as if he were some dumb dog that would follow behind its master. Fuck that. David immediately turned and walked inside to take a look around. He shifted in his chains and lifted his hand up to rub at the suppression collar. It grew hot and started to sting as he played with it. It was at the point where it started to get painful without actually doing any damage. It grew hotter still and David sighed, letting his hands fall down to his chest. He held them up again when the other slave offered to remove them.

 

'Are you going to take the collar off too? The fucking thing reacts to water,' he said, tugging on it again to show where there was already a nasty red mark. If he kept touching it too much he'd toast himself.

 

With the shackles unlocked, David shook out his wrists then began to unlock the rest of him. He'd had them on him since he'd been removed from the prison lockup a few days before his trail and they were quite uncomfortable. He was glad to be rid of them but they weren't his main concern. He tossed the offending chains against the wall and pushed past Eli to get to the tub. He waited for the water to warm up and adjusted the taps so it wouldn't get too hot. He didn't like the idea of someone being near him when he bathed. He didn't particularly like water. He'd experienced water torture and drowning through much of his childhood and didn't like the idea of showing his discomfort in front of others. He glanced across at the other slave and scowled.

 

'No sense of privacy, I see,' he growled.

 

Still, David was glad to get clean and had no qualms about sinking into the tepid water. He tensed up as he lowered his body in, as he did every time he got into the water. It was better than if the water was completely cold. He'd have felt his heart racing at that, even though he'd got used to his discomfort of water long ago. So long as he didn't get his head under or get splashed, he would be fine. He just had to make sure his collar didn't get wet.

 

'Pass the soap,' David ordered. 'A clean cloth or something for me to scrub myself too, then you can stand back and look the other way.'

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  • 3 weeks later...

After moving the slave to his destination, Dexter returned to the main entrance for his brushing. He sat in a wooden chair with a slave on either side of him, both holding a toothbrush and a jar of transparent nail polish. The nail polish, normally, would be used as a base coat for fingernails, but, with horns covered in the same material, the demon had an added use for it. As the slaves worked to clean his horns, Dexter instructed them on what to do. Although they had done it many times before, he was always worried they would screw up, and the way his horns looked was something he prided himself on.

 

They, by no means, were large or intimidating, which was why he wanted them to look pleasing to the eye. Their height was a mere four inches, from the base to the tallest tip, and they curved out and up to form an almost perfect 90-degree angle. The end of his horns split into a fork, with one point lower than the other, and both curving towards each other. Their symmetry, unnoticeable at first, was aesthetically pleasing.

 

"Brush harder," Dexter ordered, noticing one of the slaves hesitantly touch the toothbrush to his horn, "I don't want to see any marks." He wanted them white and polished without scratches, lines, or spots. "Paint on a thin coat." As the slaves painted the horns to a finish, the strong, chemical smell of nail polish spread throughout the mansion. "Don't get it in my hair." Eventually, with more waiting, his horns had a clear shine to them. He inspected each horn with a mirror, bringing the mirror closer, then slowly pulling it back, using it as a magnifying glass to magnify any mistakes. Besides a few strokes going in the wrong direction, Dexter had no complaints. The slaves passed the inspection and now had to finish their job. They were to clean up and air out the smell.

 

"Open the windows here," their master instructed, the smell stuck to him, "I don’t want to smell this all day." With a nod of their heads, the pair went to work. One collected all the items to be put away, and the other pushed open the windows. The demon stayed in his seat as he waited for the polish set. Every five minutes Dexter would touch a finger to his horn to test the dryness of the nail polish. However, while it was still damp, he was forced to stand by a cold breeze coming from the open windows, sending a chill down his body. Shivering was not something he liked to do.

 

After that disruption, Dexter went about to find his half-brother. He didn't know where he would be, at this moment, but he knew he could find him somewhere cleaning or in his workshop. Knowing that Eli was occupied, he doubted he would be with him, along with the fact he had an obvious dissatisfaction for the slave he was overseeing. Plus, since he had just gone shopping, it was likely Vertox was doing the usual, unpacking and sterilizing what he bought. Having this thought direct him, Dexter eventually found the demon doing what he had predicted—cleaning.

 

"Vesper," he called, with no extra greeting, "You know I don't mind you beating the slaves, but I want you to go easy on this one. Right now, it’s likely that Vertox thinks our bark is worse than our bite, and I want to keep it that way for a while." He wanted to try somewhat of a different approach with this new slave. "Eli will ease him into training tonight and you may visit, but you are not to touch them, both your slave and mine." While he couldn't always tell Vesper what to do with his slave, he did believe he had a say when Eli was working under his instruction, especially for training. He didn't need the head slave getting distracted or his sibling getting carried away, not in the presence of the newcomer.

 

"Threaten Vertox when he makes mistakes, but don't punish him. Punishment will happen during training, where his mistakes will not be ignored." Instead of easing the slave into training, like he usually did, Dexter wanted to test David and, at the same time, try to fix that attitude of his. His sessions would reflect how he acted. "Even though Eli may be occupied more nights than others, you are not to interfere. Any objections?" The sole reason Dexter was telling the demon of his plan was because he was using his slave, which, for his business, he had a right to do. Whether Vesper had any objections or not, the demon would still go through with his plan. He was simply asking to hear his wishes, not out of care.

 

Eli ignored the slave when he asked him to remove his collar. It wasn’t his problem that the collar was hydrophobic or that he hadn’t even uttered a word of appreciation for his chains being unlocked. In fact, he didn’t seem grateful at all, only wanting another thing removed. Despite this, even if David had shown his appreciation, with a “thank you” or a shortened “thanks,” Eli had no authority to remove it. He had the right to remove chains and normal collars, but not to remove suppression collars. It was up to Dexter to remove it or to give him permission to, in his presence. Plus, the head slave was no idiot. He wouldn’t underestimate the abilities of any witch, especially those forced into slavery. They always seemed to be boiling with anger, which was why they needed such collars.

 

As David lowered himself into the water, Eli grabbed two loofahs and a bar of soap from the shelf. He wet the loofahs under the sink, instead of using the bath, and rubbed the soap onto the surface. “Here,” he put the soap back and approached the tub again, handing David a loofah, while he kept the other, “But I won’t be looking away.” Eli had no intention of leaving the slave alone or closing his eyes. It was his duty to help bathe him, and that was what he did. Starting with his shoulder blade, the head slave rubbed the loofah against his skin and across his back, careful to avoid the collar. He found that slaves were a bit more willing to take a bath if he let them do some of their own scrubbing, instead of doing the job himself. While he cleaned the hard-to-get places, the slaves could wash the parts that they didn’t want him to touch. As Eli scrubbed him, he also repeated some rules.

 

“You are expected to be clean at all times, but it cannot take you more than twenty minutes to wash and dry yourself. Don’t think you can take a bath every hour of every day either. The limit is one bath per day, either in the morning or at night.” The more he spoke, the harder he scrubbed. The force he used against the loofah would definitely leave David a little red and a bit sore, but Eli was determined to get the job done. "Now, are you done washing your self or would you like me to do your front? Of course, if you got something to hide, I'll make sure to look away." The redhead teased as he returned to the shoulder blade.

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  • 1 month later...

'Dexter?' Vesper asked calmly.

 

The demon looked up, wanting to know why it was his older brother had chosen to grace his workshop with his ever-loving presence. The younger brother had blue, nitrile gloves on, a clock in one hand a cotton tip earbud in the other. He dipped the earbud back in the disinfectant solution and set the green cutting board he was using to keep his workbench uncontaminated. When he saw that his half-brother had opened the door, he hurriedly removed the nitrile gloves and placed on his normal leather ones.

 

'Get back, get back,' he shooed, waving his hands to get Dexter outside the door.

 

Nobody was allowed inside any of Vesper's quarters unless invited. He was very particular about people staying on the mat outside his room unless he had directly permitted them in. Even Eli had to remain on the outside mat until Vesper was sure he was clean. Vesper shooed Dexter with his hands, hung up the apron he was wearing and rubbed his feet on the inside mat three times before stepping out of the workshop and closing the door behind him.

 

'Now you can talk to me.'

 

Vesper frowned slightly at what he was being told. He didn't like Eli being away for so long, especially at night. He could do what he wanted during the day, which was when Vesper would prefer most of the training to happen, but Vesper did not work in the evenings so had time to be distracted and attended by Eli.

 

'I thought he would be training the slave during the day, leaving the nights free for his usual duties,' he said as way of asking it to be so.

 

'You needn't worry that I will interfere. The slave business is your responsibility. Just make sure I get the notes at the end of each day so I can update the systems. How long do you want me to wait until I announce his acquisition to possible buyers?' he asked. Sometimes slaves were announced immediately after their acquisition while others Dexter preferred to hold onto until he made them public. In Vespers opinion, it was mostly curiosity or wanting more time with the slave personally that motivated Dexter to keep a slave's purchase quiet. Normally prospective buyers liked to be notified at once and get progress notifications along the way. Of course, all that communication was part of the paperwork Vesper did so he needed to know what Dexter wanted done with this one.

 

'Exactly what are you planning for this one?' he asked, though didn't sound as interested as he should be. He merely asked in case there was anything he needed to know so he could do his job properly.*

 

David was so used to people doing as he ordered. It was not for him to say “thank you” every time a servant attended him. He was not about to start that attitude now either. Instead, he expected a response from Eli and scowled when he did not get even a simple refusal to remove the suppression collar. It had been a long shot in the first place but it seemed as if it wasn’t going to be easy to have the thing taken off. He’d have to be very careful bathing.

 

‘I’m not using something some slave has touched,’ he grunted.

 

The witch knocked the loofah away when Eli came over and watched it roll over the floor. He certainly wasn’t going to use it now, or ever. How was he to know whether some other slave had used that very same thing to scrub his privates?

 

‘I could easily conjure a replica – one that hasn’t been touched by filthy slaves. And you [i[will[/i] be looking away, you fucking pervert. My body is none of your business,’ he stated.

 

The moment Eli touched the loofah to David’s skin, the man spun around and swung a round hook to Eli’s left cheek. He stood up, looking indignant, and got out of the bathtub. If there was one thing he could not abide, it was others coming near him while in the bath. He hated bathing or being too close to any form of water, especially running water, but sitting in a pool of it was still very triggering. He was not going to say why or explain himself in any way. It was none of anyone’s business why he hated water. All they had to know was to stay the fuck away from him while he was in the bath.

 

‘Come closer and I’ll give you another one,’ he growled at Eli. ‘Rule number one – stay the fuck away from me while I’m in the water.’

 

David had his fists up, ready to take another swing at Eli if he came close. He didn’t care that he was naked, he was ready to defend himself. They were going to do this bath his way or not at all.

 

 

 

*I do not actually need to know what you are planning. It’s up to you whether you gloss over this with something like “Dexter told Vesper his plan” and that’s it.

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  • 1 month later...

Dexter took a step back when his half-brother shooed him away from the door. He had forgotten how sacred the workshop was to him, as he did every time he bothered him during work. Still, that didn’t stop him from always being the one to interrupt. If he were to never talk to Vesper when he was working, he would be slowed down himself. Whether he had important matters to talk to him about or only wanted a casual conversation, he didn’t think he needed to set up an appointment to meet with him. He was a business partner and a family member, not a customer.

 

“Yes, Eli would usually train the slave during the day,” Dexter confirmed, not wanting Vesper to think every slave would now be trained at night, “Which is why my approach to training Vertox will be different. He’ll be trained at night and I’ll take care of him in the morning.” It wasn’t unheard of for the demon to want to “take care” of a certain slave himself, especially if he knew the slave would be troublesome. However, it was rare of him to make such a plan with a new slave. Usually, he would show his interest after one or two days of watching Eli train a slave, then make the decision to train the slave a little bit himself. This time, though, he didn’t hesitant. He clearly wanted Vertox in his possession. He didn’t want to keep him, but he wanted to get a feel of him. David was a spitfire and that’s what caught his attention. He always favorited the slaves who genuinely put up a fight. He liked finding out their weaknesses and breaking their strengths.

 

“Eli will continue to attend to the other slaves during the day, but I’ll have some of the servants pick up his other duties. That way you can spend time with him before he has to go back to training.” Dexter said this as though he was giving Vesper a grand gift―the gift of time with Eli―even though he would be making the head slave work longer. Since it wasn’t his slave to really worry about, he wasn’t concerned about overworking him. He had promoted him to head slave for a reason. “I’ll make sure you have your notes at the end of every session,” Dexter ended off his talking. He didn’t have anything to add to his plan, not wanting to get into the minor details of training. They would be in the notes after all and he hadn’t even planned that far ahead. Tonight, he would have Eli start off with the usual. He still wanted to ease Dexter into training, but he would definitely push more things on him in one night than he typically would.

 

Eli was not going to cry, He had been hit, kicked, punched, and even bitten as the head slave, so he wasn’t going to let David think that he could easily be beaten. He was in pain, but he wasn’t going to show it. With the witch acting the way he was, he had three options: leave, do what he says, or argue with him. He wasn’t going to walk out of the bathroom and leave David alone. He trusted that the slave would take a bath, since it’s not like he could run away, but it was his job to watch him. He couldn’t abandon him and abandon his duty. The next option was to let David bathe in peace, which meant he couldn’t look at him. Out of the three options, this one was the best, since he knew that arguing with him would definitely cause more trouble than he wanted.

 

“Quickly bathe and get out,” Eli snapped as he put his boots back on and turned around so that he was facing away from David. There was a rectangular mirror above the sink, but Eli made sure to shut his eyes so that the slave knew he wasn’t going to secretly watch him, not that he was interested in watching him bathe anyway, and the head slave undid his ponytail, since he no longer needed to worry about getting his hair wet. “The towels are on a shelf to your left, make sure to drain the tub once you get out, and dry off the floor when you’re done.”

 

Eli continued to keep his eyes close as he stepped forward and felt for the sink. Once he had both hands on the sides of the sink, he turned around and opened his eyes. He felt silly having to close them. “I don’t understand why you’re uncomfortable with being watched.” Well, he wouldn’t be all that comfortable having a pair of eyes stare at him while he bathed or showered, either, but, by now, he was used to it. He had bathed with other slaves in his presence before and he never let them affect what he was doing.

 

“You’re standing naked in front of me and I don’t think you’ll be doing anything weird.” After he said this, though, he paused, reconsidering the last part of his sentence. “Maybe you will, but there’s nothing to be embarassed about,” Eli reassured him, “You’re letting the warm water get cold while you stand there.”

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  • 1 month later...

Vesper wasn't bothered that Dexter had come to him. It happened from time to time and Dexter only ever came when he wanted something to do with work. He never made social visits or came around for the sake of it. It had to be something important. That's the only time they ever really came together, for something important.

 

'You're taking care of him this early? Very well,' Vesper said. He looked back at his workbench and sighed. He didn't like it but he wasn't one to complain. A dog that barks once gets rewarded; a dog that barks all night gets punished. He'd rather use his complaints for something more frustrating than having his slave service him at a different time of day.

 

'If that's all you came for, I'll bid you good day,' he said. He gave Dexter a polite nod then turned and closed the door behind him. He had his precious finds to clean, pull apart and inspect.

 

'Shut it!' David snapped. He wasn't going to be pushed around by some slave. He'd take his own sweet time in getting into the bath and cleaning himself up. He moved over to the tub and sank into it slowly. He closed his eyes as he sat back into the warm water. He didn't particularly care what the head slave did, so long as he didn't come near the bathtub. David was very particular about that. He hated water in general for reasons he was not going to share with anyone.

 

The witch gave a grunt at Eli's instructions and got on to cleaning himself with his hands. He splashed his face rather than ducking his head under the water and rubbed his face clean. It wasn't exactly a relaxing experience for him but it felt good to be clean after the slave markets.

 

'I don't see why it's so important that you watch me,' David replied in a sarcastic tone. He glanced over at Eli to make sure he was keeping back then sloshed the water through his short hair. He looked around a moment before clicking his fingers at the slave. 'Do you have any shampoo? Bring it over then go back to the sink.'

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  • 4 weeks later...

With their short meeting over, Dexter left to tend to his own work. Although Vesper hadn’t said much, he knew he had processed what was told to him. Little could be argued about the business where he owned the slaves and his half-brother did the paperwork. On his end, however, he also had to do paperwork. In his office, he had a stack of documents for the slaves he owned currently. Along with the proof of ownership, his own personal notes on each slave were part of the stack. He would also add the notes given to him by the head slave after each day of training and he would organize the papers by date.

 

For the most part, it was a lot of copying. He would give Vesper two copies of his paperwork, one was for the buyer when he sold a slave and the other was for storage. He was dependent on Vesper to not only separate the copies but to make sure that the notes were correct and that they were organized properly. Plus, anything extra Eli wanted to add to his notes that he forgot to when passing them in, he would have to go to Vesper to have them added. Once the copies were made and handed over, Dexter no longer was in charge of them.

 

Sitting behind his desk, the demon began to rewrite what was in his journal about David on a separate, larger piece of paper. He included all the measurements, his name, his birth date, and his first impressions. As they say, first impressions are always important, especially for buyers to know how much progress was made. On a different sheet, he would outline how he expected to train him and how long it would take. Then, on a sticky note, he would write his name and the day he got him, then attach it to the top of the ongoing paperwork. The sticky note was for organizational purposes to make it easier for both him and Vesper.

 

Eli didn’t know what the slave was trying to accomplish with his attitude, but he knew it wasn’t going to get him far. He had no right to boss him around, being in the position he was in. Still, he humored him, not wanting to waste his breath on a slave who was completely useless. He had better things he could be doing now, but he was stuck tending to the newcomer for the day. Admittedly, being the head slave had its ups and downs, and this was one of the latter.

 

“I don’t see why it’s so important that I watch you either,” the head slave mimicked the other as he bent down and opened the cabinet sink to pull out a bottle of shampoo, “If you don’t want me to be looking at you, then don’t look at me and you’ll forget that I’m here.” He knew it wasn’t that simple to forget they were sharing the bathroom, but he wasn’t the one bothered by another person being in the room with him. He was used to this; David clearly wasn’t. “Here,” Eli held out the bottle, as though he expected the slave to be able to reach him.

 

He knew David, likely, didn’t want to step out of the bath a second time and he didn’t want him to do that either, but he still found it a little fun to tease him. He really had nothing better to do, after all. “No, stay there, I’ll give it to you,” Eli walked toward the edge of the bathtub and handed it to him before retreating to the sink as he was told to do, “After you’re done and dry yourself off, you’ll get a tour of the mansion. I need to show you what rooms are off-limits, although I doubt you’ll be paying attention when I do.”

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