Somewhat Clear

Erik didn't like eating at Shaw's place for too many reasons.

First, he was a fucking bastard and Erik hated him to guts.

Second, he liked to surround himself with tons of submissives but tended to treat most of them like shit, so every time Erik was invited to dinner he had to endure the sight of those poor trembling, scared things. Seeing them like that ripped his heart apart. Erik was a Dominant himself, but he wouldn't ever threatened a submissive of punishement just because -for instance- they had put the cutlery in the wrong order.

Third, during dinner Shaw got bored quickly, and didn't give a flying fuck if he had guests, if he felt like picking of his slaves and disappear in another room for a quickie, leaving the others with Erik, saying ‘be pretty and do whatever Erik tells you to do’, while they stood around him terrified and waited eagerly for more orders.

Orders that never came, naturally. It might have been a while since he had someone to pleasure him, but Erik could certainly live without; he used to enjoy going to public scenes, a long time ago, but now he found that he didn't like touching subs that weren't his own -he was probably getting old. Nevertheless, that didn't prevent Shaw from trying to tempt him with his prettiest slaves: Erik knew that the old man had more than thirty of them under full-time contract, mostly because he liked them to serve him in every way. They were so many that Erik couldn't even tell if they were new or if he had never seen them before. The only constant was Martin, as he was Shaw's favourite blonde submissive, who acted as home's head waiter.

Besides Martin, that night Shaw had chosen five particularly pretty boys. Apparently they didn't completely meet his taste, since when the moment came he went away for his usual quickie alone. Erik assumed that he would have picked another of his subs on the way, leaving his guest alone and still in the process of eating his steak.

The particularly terrified young man who stood behind his chair wasn't one he had seen before. He was very pretty. He had his hair shaved -Erik wasn't sure if it was to emphasize his status of submissive, or it was to punish him- but he had gorgeous eyes, the bluest and most stunning he had ever seen. Erik tried all evening to make eye contact, but the boy had avoided him carefully. His thin frame was covered in a well tailored waistcoat over a white shirt, and he was trembling from head to toes, frail and scared.

Erik finished his steak calmly, ignoring Shaw's absence. When he had finished, just to break the awkward silence, he ordered the boy to take away the empty plate. With a mumbled and quivering "yes, Master" the boy leaned over to pick up the dish. Erik thanked him with a nod, (he winced internally at the word 'Master' -he hated being called that) and took advantage of the moment to study his hands. They were soft-looking and white, slightly freckled on the back, with well manicured nails. He looked up, hoping to catch his eyes. He succeeded. And all Hell broke loose.

The young hairless man gasped, clearly startled by the gesture, made a little jump backwards and let the dishes drop and break against the floor. Erik managed to catch the cutlery with his power, by reflex. He put them carefully over the table, while the boy stood frozen in place, with his hands cluchted to his chest. Was he hurt? There wasn't any blood though, so Erik just assumed that he was in a bit of a shock. He didn't know why he had looked so scared even before that loud noise -was he panicking? Probably. Erik stood, and the boy started to shiver. Not wanting him to believe that Erik was going to hit him or something, he slowly knelt on the floor to pick up the pieces even though there were four subs that were supposed to do it, because it was their damn job -nobody made a move to help him, though.

He stood again slowly, and put the shards on the table.

The boy wasn't there anymore.

“Where did he go?” he asked Martin, who hesistated before finally answering "That way, Master".

Erik followed the man’s gesture and went through a couple of doors before hearing a soft whimpering, coming from a very narrow space between a wall and a piece of furniture. Erik came nearer, slowly, and crouched down before it. In the dark corner he could see the young man, curled up in a ball, with tears streaming down his face.

When Erik came in sight, he stopped abruptly, holding his breath.

”Darling, everything is fine,” murmured Erik softly, trying to soothe him. ”It's fine, don't be scared. Don't cry, love.”

”I-I can't, Master,” whispered the boy, choking on the words. ”M-My Master is going to kill me.”

Erik screamed internally in rage. He knew that Shaw absolutely loved to picture himself as a terryfing Dominant, but that was really ridiculous. A submissive should feel secure and safe with his Dom, for fuck's sake, not the opposite. Especially not for something so trivial and stupid like breaking a fucking plate.

”Don't be silly, boy. It was my fault, you didn't certainly drop it on purpose. Now, come out of there, will you?”

The young man didn't move. Erik sighed. That was going to be pretty tough.

Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, Erik heard Shaw behind him returning from his quick fuck with a half naked, ginger-haired, and very embarrassed submissive. Shaw himself looked absolutely perfect and immaculate, as if he hadn't just screwed the boy into the mattress or -more likely- up against a wall.

”There you are!” Shaw said, adjusting the latex gloves that always wore around his subs, as though he was afraid to contract some illness. Looking over his shoulder, Erik saw that Martin was at his side, whispering something in his ear -probably the whole accident.

”What the fuck are you doing here, hunting down some stupid submissive?” he exclaimed, disapprovingly. He looked at the corner in disgust and annoyance. ”I should have got rid of him a long time ago, but he always looked so pretty. He's so clumsy all the time that he's of no use at all though.”

Erik, who had his back to Shaw, cringed seeing that the boy seemed to shrink even more in his hiding place. Erik stood. ”It wasn't his fault, really. My arm caught in his hand, and he drop the plate,” explained Erik, tweaking the accident slightly so that the blame was completely on him. ”He just got scared -because of the noise, I think- and ran away. No big deal at all, this is ridic-”

”Do not fool me,” Shaw interrupted, looking at him with a I-know-better-look. ”Charles,” He called.

The young man -Charles- crawled out of his haven and knelt before his Master, his head bowed to the floor, shaking.

”Look at me.” Charles complied. ”Is Erik saying the truth? That was how it went?” asked Shaw firmly.

”N-no, Master,” answered Charles, whimpering slightly.

”Oh?” Shaw gave Erik a significant look. Erik bit his tongue. ”So,” he continued. ”How did it go?”

”I... Master Erik finished his steak. He ordered me to clear the table, so I took the empty plate, and then I dropped it, Master,” answered Charles shakily, with such a broken voice that Erik was really surprised that he wasn't even crying.

”Just like that? You can't even pick up a plate without dropping it, now? That's really something, Charles, I'm impressed. I think I never met such a clumsy slave before. I knew it was a mistake, keeping you for so long and letting you serve dinner tonight. I had thought that maybe Erik would have appreciated your pretty face, but I don't think that even a good heart like him could bear someone like you. And do you know why, Charles? Because you are so. Fucking. Clumsy!” By the end of his long lecture Shaw was practically shouting, but instead of looking furious and outraged he had a somewhat amused expression. ”Stand,” he ordered. Charles obeyed.

Then, slowly, Shaw peeled off his right glove and lifted his hand. Charles squeezed his eyes shut, and Erik knew what was coming next. Without a second thought, he blocked Shaw's wrist before the blow could be delivered.

Charles' eyes shot open, and the boy let escape a hiccup of relief. Shaw stared at Erik, livid and furious. Martin behind his back looked stunned and a bit afraid.

”What the fuck are you doing, Erik?” asked Shaw, recollecting quickly his usual cold amusement, but with something that sounded like a snarl.

”Don't hit him,” said Erik with dangerous certainty. ”Hit him, and I'm going to hit you.”

Shaw raised an eyebrow. ”Oh wow, scary,” he said, unimpressed. ”Look dear, he's my sub, and I punish however I like. Now get lost, before I hit you.”

”You're not simply punishing him, are you? That's deliberate and gratuitous humiliation. Punishment it's supposed to correct behaviors, not to amuse you , Shaw. You should know that a sub willingly gives up control of his body because he trusts his Dom to bring him happiness anyway. Are you trying to get rid of him by talking him to his own death? Because that's not only sick and cruel, but it even makes you more of a coward than I thought, abusing your powers of Dominant over defenseless submissives. Not that I didn't know that already. You do that daily.”

Suddenly Erik had an idea, so rash that it could even work. ”If you want to get rid of him so badly, give him to me.”

Shaw stared at him again in shock. Then barked out a laugh.

”Well, if you really want him, keep him. Your funeral. He really is clumsy, you know? Whatever,” the older man shrugged. ”I had hoped to push you into some guilty relationship with a sub who wasn’t your own, and to snap some pictures of his lips wrapped around your cock so I could blackmail you. But of course, Mr. Lehnsherr had to go all emotional and idealistic and pro-subs' right and stuff. So -BOOOOORING. You really don't know how to have fun.” He looked at Charles, who hadn't moved from his spot and was shaking between the two of them.

”Congratulation Charles, you have a new Dominant.”

Erik blinked. ”Just like that?”

Shaw smiled maliciously. ”Just like that. It's not like I'm going to miss him, I told you. I still have plenty of slaves anyway, and he was a weight for the rest of the team because of his incompetence, so you're really doing me a favour.” He looked at Charles, up and down. ”But I may need those clothes, sometime. Strip, Charles.”

Technically, Charles shouldn't have been able to follow orders from Shaw anymore, but he started stripping anyway. Erik was about to protest, but the young man was already slipping out of his clothes, folding them neatly before placing them in Martin's hands. In a few minutes he was completely naked, except for Shaw's collar. He had a fair and creamy complexion, narrow lightly freckled shoulders, and he was so thin that his bones protruded against his skin.

On the top of his thighs there were the red marks of hard cane blows. Beautiful, but Erik suspected that those marks weren't there because Charles had wanted his Master to make him his, and he felt a wave of rage washing over him.

Shaw, oblivious, gave Charles a last appreciative look and then checked the hour. ”Oh my, is it already this late? Martin, be a dear and take the coat to Erik. He won't stay any longer, anyway. Sorry if I skip the traditional ceremony of ownership's change, but you know how much I hate formalities.” Said the man who wants his submissive to call him Master, thought Erik bitterly watching him go to his rooms after having dismissed him without more than a wave of his hand, but he didn't say anything and accepted his coat from Martin with a courtly nod.

He turned towards Charles, who was still standing next to him, with his head lowered. Erik lifted it gently putting two fingers under his chin, and smiled softly. Charles blinked, unsure how to return the gesture.

”Welcome to my care, Charles,” whispered Erik, draping the coat over the young man's naked shoulders. He tried to sooth him caressing his cheek gently, but the boy flinched under his touch, before accepting the light brush of his fingers. Erik felt a deep pain in his chest. Poor thing, what have you been through? Thought Erik, seeing that Charles had remained as stiff as before.

After that, Shaw practically shouted from the other room to kicked them out, quickly bored over the whole thing. He had given Erik -through Martin, of course- Charles' leash and some documents, and then ushered them to the door.

Charles pliantly offered his neck, so Erik could clip the leash to the collar, but Erik undid the clasp instead, leaving him uncollared. Charles looked up at him, surprised and uncertain. ”Let's go, Charles. We don't want you to get a cold, do we?” said Erik, guiding his new sub with a hand on the small of his back. He didn't flinch this time, the layer of cloth probably softened the feeling of his touch, and Charles had felt safer. Erik made a mental note about it, and pushed him gently towards his car.

It turned out Charles was scared to death by cars, but he didn't make much of a fuss over it, and let Erik get him on his BMW. During the whole drive -which luckily wasn't very long- Charles shook under Erik's coat. Erik didn't know what to do, except to turn on the heating. When he still went to public scenes, Erik liked inexperienced subs, skittish and scared because of their own unsecurities and the novelty of the thing -- it was normal. Erik didn't lack the patience to deal with them, and he enjoyed guiding them lovingly in the joyous headspace of submission.

Charles instead seemed to have a long experience as a submissive - he had stayed with Shaw for over 10 years, if the documents were to be trusted, and it was mentioned a short period of headspace training before that- but he still looked unfamiliar with it. Even worse, he looked to be like one of those people who were so used to be in a 24/7 relationship that had lost the capacity to go out their headspace.

He probably wasn't used to move around much, if he was so afraid of cars, and wasn't used to be exposed to strangers. He seemed to not like being touched, which was weird, because he had somewhat expected him to be touch starved, seeing how Shaw was treating him. He tended to stand passively Erik's will, even while he was making sure that Charles wasn't cold. He didn't even try an attempt to cover himself when at a turn the coat slipped, leaving him half exposed in his nakedness. It was Erik who had to fix the garment, while he was waiting for the green light at a crossing. He clearly had been trained to not speak if not prompted, so he stayed quiet the whole time, even when Erik was making some silly observation about the surroundings in a nervous and ridiculous attempt to make conversation. After a while he just focused on driving.

When he pulled over, he noticed that Charles at some point must have grabbed his seat belt, gripping onto it so strongly that his knuckles were white, and he was breathing unevenly. Panic attack? He hoped not. He wasn't very sure how he could have helped him.

”Charles?” Erik called him, and touched him on a shoulder, careful to touch the cloth. The boy flinched anyway, maybe upset because of the sudden contact, but turned towards him with an eager -if scared- look.

”Master,” he panted.

”We're home, sweetheart. Calm down,” murmured Erik, reaching out with a hand to caress him on the cheek”. He caught himself in time, remembering that the young man didn't like to be touched that way. ”Now I'll go inside and I'll bring you a blanket, ok? This coat is lovely on you, but it's not very warm, and here it's much colder than at Sha-Sebastian's. So you wait for me here, are we good?” said Erik. For good measure, he added, ”Answer me, please.”

”Yes Master,” answered diligently Charles, a bit breathless. Erik prevented himself from flinching at the word 'Master'.That was the first thing that he would have to correct in the contract. Alongside with the existence of a proper contract, since he was sure that Charles hadn't ever had one.

”Good boy,” Erik praised him, and then he slipped out of the car, fumbled with his keys, entered the house, grabbed the blanket that he kept on his bed, and came back to Charles, as quick as he could. When he got back he found Charles sobbing quietly into the sleeve of his coat, and he didn't even stop when Erik opened the car's door to wrap him in the blanket.

”What is it, sweetheart?” asked Erik, concerned. Was he hurt?

Charles shook his head. ”I-I'm fine. Thank you, Master.”

”For what?” asked Erik, confused, gathering him carefully in his arm so that he wasn't touching an inch of skin.

”For telling me that I'm a g-good boy.”