The Trick in the Saturday
by Sebastian Blade
Perpetua gave me come great ideas for expanding it, places where it was confusing. The final version is going to have about three more chapters at the beginning, but I am going to finish the blog version first!
Thank you for reading and commenting!
Fear translated into nerves for Corey. He'd only spoken once on the van ride. He'd asked if the crazy eyed man knew Jesus as his savior, if he'd been baptized. The man had offered to tape his mouth shut. The driver had warned him not to tape the 'red head slut's nose over'. And that was that. Corey found he could actually be quiet.
It wasn't actually that long of a ride, but it felt longer, as John, Corey had decided to call him John, started drawing a razor blade lightly over his arms, carving obscene words in red. So he silently recited the Lord's Prayer, over and over again. Deep in his past, before his mother had abandoned him, before Saint Sarah's had taken him in, he'd been a very angry boy. Even afterwards, there had been many fights. He had two bridges and seven caps for dental work, all the result of liking to hit people bigger than he was.
"Are you fucking crying," John asked, pointing the bloody razor blade at Corey.
"Scared now? You know we're going to hurt you, right?"
"I'm not scared."
John grimaced, scooted closer. "I got HIV tainted blood on this blade," he said with a vicious smile.
"I'm so sorry that happened to you. There are good treatments."
John's mouth hung open, lips tight into a little o, until he twitched and reached out for Corey's hand.
"NO! Sammy! No cutting him! You crazy fucker! He's for sale!"
Sammy brought his bleeding arm to his lips and licked. "Sale. Not cheap though. Christian you think your god loves you if you're a slave?"
"Many of the first Christians were slaves. In God there is no free or slave. He loves everyone."
"But I can still tape his mouth shut," Sammy asked.
"We're almost there, for Christ's sake."
"God hates faggots," Sammy sneered.
"God made us all. God loves everyone."
"God don't love me," Sammy said, "But for a hundred and fifty bux, he could stick it up my ass!"
Corey leaned forward a little, just a spark of anger in his green eyes, "If that was the only way to get to you, maybe he would. Angels come in all forms."
"I hope I get to fuck you before we sell you. We have a buyer you know. He's old, some old Arab pervert. He was in love with your boy. I bet he'll cut of your balls for touching the ass he wanted to bang."
Mouth open slightly, at a loss for words, Corey scratched his cheek. He had to remember that in his stomach was a gummy candy and inside that was a tracking device. They weren't going to have them long enough to sell them. They'd never sell anyone again.
He couldn't see outside of the van, but he knew when it slowed, when it tipped and went into what he thought might have been a parking garage. He hoped that it wasn't like a cell phone and they'd still be able to track it.
Bon yawned, hated the hotel bed he slept on, then remembered it was a couch, in a safe house. August.
He blinked back tears. He threw off the blanket someone had put over him, sat up and had a very bad feeling over the quiet around him. "Roman! Corey!"
The silence got the better of him. He jumped to his feet. "You little shits! God fuck me!"
"That might be a little hard. I expect you're too tight even for the Holy Spirit's tiny cock."
Bon actually vaulted over the couch, hands on the back, anger and fear a powerful mixture on his face. "Dad. What are you doing here? Where's Roman?"
The man who sat in the chair across from the couch seemed brittle as century old newspaper, yellowed and lined with time. His hands covered the sharpened handle of his cane and he smiled. "Nice to see you too, boy. Roman's gone to do what a MAN ought to be doing."
"Where are the police officers? How did you get in here?"
"The FBI agents are attempting to do their job, which they're going to fail at. Do you want that flashy little faggot of a son back or not?"
Bon moved back around the couch, feeling all of fifteen again. "Yes, Dad. I want August back. What do I need to do?"
"Nothing," Avery spat. "You're a worthless waste of skin, August. Just sit here like the woman that you are. Leave Roman alone. He's mine. He's gonna inherit the real business. Don't even give me that look. I've had it with you being ashamed of where we really come from. You're done. You can't even protect your own fucking blood. After I get the new August back, I'm gonna put him in office like I put you in office and he's gonna do what I tell him."
"You didn't put me in office. I followed in my real father's footsteps!"
Avery rolled his eyes. "Terrance was my partner. The only thing he didn't do like I told him on was whipping you. You think I run our business for sixty years and don't know what I'm doing? God, I think I might like the priest fucking faggot better than you."
The old man leaned his head forward, glaring hatefully at his only son, dark brown eyes clouded by years of pain and guilt and anger. "Your hands are clean, August. Let them stay that way. Or maybe," the old man said, his cane lashing out to hit hard against Bon's shin, "Or maybe you ready to actually get them dirty a little. You want to actually kill the people that took your blood? They shoulda known better than to touch my blood."
"Dad," Bon said softly, feeling deeply, deeply ashamed of himself. "I'm not going not going to kill anyway. I don't have it in me."
"Yeah. You don't. You don't even got the priest's hope that God's gonna fix everything. What good are you August?"
"My name is Bon. It's been Bon for fifty years, Dad. You're right, I don't have Corey's faith in his God. I believe in August though. I believe that Roman's not stupid enough to follow through with what you put him up to. I know that if you hit me again, I'm going to file assault charges against you."
"You believe the law is going to protect you? What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm calling the FBI, Dad. No better than the ones that took August."
"Put that phone down, August! Stop pretending you have the nerve to do anything!"
"Dad, I've been a US Senator for more years than you were in my life. I have more nerve than you can understand. Taylish? Hi. Avery Richards is in the safe house and he's threatening my life."
"Today is the day," Taint said, pressing the gun into Roman's hand. "You can do it."
The gun felt heavy in his hand, cold, and every part of him wanted to put it down. "Yeah. Fuck that!" He gave her a cocky grin.
She had blue hair, brown eyes, the same thick dark lashes that August had. She wore black leather pants, sheaths for blades sewn into the outer thighs. She had three tear drops tattooed on her cheek. They sat in the back seat of a black SUV. The driver was a muscular black man, more mercenary than gang. He hadn't spoken,but the little blip on the GPS that was Corey was all Roman wanted to hear anyway.
"You did great," Taint said. "You were so right that the priest would take the bait. You're so smart Roman! As soon as we get August and the priest out of there, we'll take them straight to see the Wizard. He'll give you your real name and you'll be part of the family. I told you! It's all going to work out perfectly."
"Auggie's going to respect me for saving him," Roman said, shoving the gun into his waist band. "He's going to know who the man is."
Taint reached over and flicked the safety on. "Hit that there with your thumb, when you pull it. Then you just shot anyone that ain't August or the red head."
"Yeah," Roman said with as much bravado as he could summon, which was maybe more than it should have been. "We're doing this to save Auggie. It's not about me proving I'm a bad ass."
Taint shifted down in her seat, arms across her chest, sneering. "It's all about saving that faggot. Shithead. It's about proving no on touches what's ours."
Roman's jaw went tight, his stomach cold. "Auggie is not a faggot. Stop being like that. You know August. Of course we're going to save August! I don't care about joining some other family, Taint. I have my own family, you know that."
"You come to me when you're in trouble? You just wait till you meet the Wizard. He's going to blow your mind."
"I said I'd meet this guy, but first we save my brother. Hey! The beeping stopped!" Roman scooted forwards, holding onto the back of the driver's seat. "Why did it stop?"
"Probably went into a parking garage or somewhere underground, or they got him into something that blocks a signal."
"How are we going to find them?" Roman said, focused on the map.
"The explosion," the driver said.
"What? What explosion?"
"It's just the stupid priest. You hate him."
"I don't hate Corey. I'm done! I'm done playing games! God! I'm so stupid! What explosion and what has that got to do with Corey? That thing you gave me for him to swallow, that wasn't big enough to cause an explosion."
"Yeah. It is," she smiled, a satisfied hatred on her face. "Bang bang. Your brother will be the grieving, repentant senator. Man up Roman."
"You're crazy. You're not my friend. I thought you were my friend."
"I thought you were a man."
Roman turned back from her to look really intently at the map, the center of it where the beeping dot was before it disappeared. He memorized the address. As soon as the SUV stopped at the next stop light, he threw the door open.
Taint grabbed for him. He hit the side walk, fell hard against the wet asphalt. The pistol fell free of his pants, but he scrambled forward.
"Roman! Stop! They're after you too! You need the gun!"
A yellow two door car, older than his brother, with a crappy black strip down the center slowed on the other side of the street. The door opened and he recognized the blond cop from earlier. As fast as he could, he scrambled into the back seat of the ugly little car. Sobbing he fell over on his side. The door slammed shut and they drove off. Roman just curled up in a ball and sobbed.
Immaculate nails, long slender fingers, dark golden skin, dark eyes, and an elegantly tailored suit wrapped a taught nervous energy so that energy became regal, imposing. The black leather chair he sat on might as well have been his throne. His shumagh lay white and pure around his shoulders, held in place by a flawless black igal. He templed his fingers, lips tight. "I am not my father," he said, voice absolutely frigid. "As you may well have noticed. You will, immediately, disclose to me the nature of my father's most recent purchase. I want to know exactly what he spent five million US dollars on."
Dr. Christopher Wade had trained one hundred and thirty-two wild captured submissives in his career. Powerfully built, with neatly trimmed white hair me the young prince's gaze steadily, vying for dominance. "That would be your father's affair. Where is your father? We were expecting him to take shipment of his product at the end of the month."
Prince Al'al din Qureshi pressed his palms together, dark chocolate eyes not giving even the slightest way to the Western doctor. "My father, may god honor him, is dead. In his last days, he spoke incessantly of this product of which you speak, but no amount of urging could bring forth exactly what he, may god honor him, had actually purchased from you. My father, may god honor him, was not a retiring man, Dr. Wade. This product must be very valuable and very, very private. Now before you answer me with another evasion," the prince motioned and huge guards closed off the only exit from the twenty story room, "please consider that we are in the embassy of my country. Fo'recature laws apply on our land, which our embassy most definitely is. Therefore, the continued gift of your life is mine to allow. I will ask you one last time. What is the product?"
Frustration and disgust clawed over Dr. Wade's face. He clenched his fists, jaw shift to the side. "Of course, Your Highness." He reached inside his suit jacket to withdraw a small envelope.
"My organization has had a long standing relationship with your father," Wade explained, a bit of customer service edging out less pleasant emotions, at least on the surface. "We have supplied him with many pets over the decades."
A woman took the envelope from the doctor, opening and examining the contents. She wore a crisp floor length gown, split down the side though all of her demurely covered, she moved with a confidence and power that hinted the gown and head covers would not restrict her movements at all if her Prince needed her protection. She laid the two photos on top of the open envelope and handed these to her prince.
The older photo was black and white, of a dark haired white man, elegant and arrogant, a business man perhaps, young though, maybe early or mid twenties. He smiled out of the photo. It was a copy and Al'al din felt as though he'd seen the photo before. The second photo was of a very similar man, a son, or grandson, in color, very modern, a handsome and confident man in a black suit, standing next to a Catholic priest. "Who are they?"
"The older photo is of a man named Avery Richards. He is Senator Bon Richards' father. He was in Fo'recature when your father was a very young man. An obsession developed."
"This man was obsessed with my father, may God honor him," Al'al din asked.
"No. Avery had no interest in pretty gay Arab boys, even if they were princes. Your father's retribution for the rejection ruined Avery's business and life. He successfully faked his own death, arranging for his son to be raised by a wealthy business partner. Those matters are rather complicated. What is of current import is the second photo. That is August Richards V. On paper the family goes back to the seventeen hundreds. In reality, this is the first August Richards, but that is again, beside the point. You can, I expect, see the striking resemblance that August bares to Avery."
Al'al din set the photos down, his eyes a little wider than a calm man's should have been. He pressed his palms together. "Are you suggesting that August Richards is available for purchase? I find it difficult to believe that even five million dollars US will buy such a man."
"Oh of course it will," Wade said with a smile. "He will do anything you ask, wherever, whenever, however. He will live to serve you. As this is the start of our relationship, I will see the purchase price refunded and we will deliver him to you, for the private use of your harem. We can get him out of the country, deliver him directly to your palace, within a month. If you'd like, as a sign of good will, we will also include the red headed priest. They were lovers. It will be your pleasure to do anything you wish with them."
"My father, may God honor him, has made many successful purchases from you?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Should you tire of your pets, we will gladly 'rehome' them for you."
"That is a most excellent service you offer," Al'al din said, without emotion, face completely relaxed. "So you have many options, should I wish to expand my purchase?"
"Yes, of course."
"I will view your merchandise this evening. Prepare yourself."
"It's not done like that," Wade objected, holding up his hands.
The prince smiled.
The consummate Master and human trafficker paled.
"We will have a life long relationship, Dr. Wade. You must understand that I need to see your facilities, so that we can build a long and trusting relationship," the prince said, thick dark lashes making half closed eyes look interested in many things. "You may keep the five million US dollars. It is a pittance with the price of oil. Haydar, see that my guest is comfortable until we are ready to depart together."
"Your Highness," a huge man said, bowing with obvious reverence. "Dr. Wade."
"I," Wade said, almost stumbling over his words, "I will need my mobile. I have to let them know we'll be arriving this evening and to have product on display for you."
"Yes, of course. Haydar will supply you with everything you need."
As soon as the doctor was out of the room, the young prince stumbled out of his chair, only making it far enough to have one hand on the arm, the other on his gut as his stomach turned inside out. The woman laid a hand on his back, a cloth in her hand. Neither of them felt any concern for the valuable carpet, for the memory of the previous emir, or for pride in that moment. As the convulsions slowed, she rubbed his back, and he leaned against her. "I going to kill them."
"I know, Your Highness. Such people are already dead. It's just a matter of putting things right with the world."
"And?" Ann asked.
The lab lacked for nothing. It was well equipped for making any cosmetic changes required to products, organ harvest, artificial insemination, or a broad variety of other medical needs. They were a full service resource for their clients. Pumping the stomach of an unwilling patient was not difficult. Unlike most medical facilities, they had perfected many styles of custom restraints. There were a lot of people with medical fetishes.
"It exploded," Dr. Sing said pleasantly. "Never had one of those before. Of course, it was contained and the merchandise is unharmed. It is a unique style of explosive. I would dearly love to obtain an un-detonated sample. I believe that, if it had detonated within him, that it would have used the hydrogen in the water molecules of his body to be a very substantial explosion. Someone doesn't like him much."
"Oh but what a suicide bomb," Ann raved, running her fingers over the thick transparent shielding the doctor had encased the little explosive with. "That'd be worth way more than what we're getting for the senator's son."
Ann's mobile rang and she fished it out of her pocket. For staff, the facility had a booster that both made sure they received signal and encoded it. "Ann."
Dr. Wade's voice held an edge of panic she'd never heard before. "The Emir is dead. His son is Emir now and he wants to see our facilities, our products. The main product needs to be ready, tonight. He needs to be perfect."
"How am I supposed to do that? We need at least a month to condition him properly. He killed Amaryth last night. He's a complete mess."
"Did Sammy bring in the priest?"
"Yes," Ann said, waiting to hear Wade's idea.
"Use 93c. Make him rape the priest."
"He's too fragile for that."
"It'll work. We have to make him think he has no one that will accept him, then we can bring him back together as the good slave he's meant to be."
"If we completely shatter him, it's on you."
"Yes, yes, just do it. Have him cleaned up and coherent by the time we get there. Don't get rid of the priest though. The client might take them both."
"Like a flower arrangement for the deceased?" Ann said, trying to lighten the mood.
The call ended and she made no attempt to hide her feelings.
"The Emir is dead and Wade wants the new product ready for sale tonight."
"Not possible." Sing said, shaking his head.
"Give me a dose of 93c. This is going to be Wade's big fuck up that gets him put out to pasture."
"What a waste," Sing complained, but he was up, getting what he'd been asked for. "If the priest is to be disposed of. I want him."
"Sure," Ann agreed, taking the medicine. "Where's the priest now?"
"Treatment room 12," Sing said, grinning like a satisfied cat. "He makes the most lovely sounds of discomfort, blushes so pretty."
"Yeah, yeah," Ann said affectionately. "Get someone to move him to playroom 7."
"Your wish is my command."
Naked, August huddled on the floor, hands over his head, rocking wordlessly. He'd been that way since they hosed Parker's blood off of him. Deep in his mind he sat in Corey's little room, sipping tea, talking about the weather and Corey's fundraising goals. He was never, ever going to leave Corey's room. He'd become a priest too. He'd grow old together, as too old priests. He was never going to have sex again. He would never be naked again. Everything hurt. Pain like a blot so big it covered all of him.
The door slid open and he scrambled deeper into the corner.
Ann had dressed defensively, body covered, ready for any resistance he might offer. "August, do you want me to give this drug to you or to Corey?"
Two well trained male attendants dragged a naked Corey into the room, arms behind his back.
"Corey," August asked, looking up, horror on his face. "Leave him alone."
"One of you is going to get injected with this drug. You get to chose. You or him?"
"Corey," August said, confused. "Why are you here? Are you real?"
Struggling, mouth tapped, Corey stamped on the booted feet of his captors. They just lifted him off the floor. He growled behind the tape.
"So I should give it to him?" Ann asked. She uncapped the syringe.
"No, no! Don't do that to Corey!" August, still hunched over, hiding his body as much as he could. "Please!"
"Put your arm out."
August clenched his eyes shut, but held out his arm.
"There's a good boy. You know that we're the only ones that love you. We're protecting you from a murder charge. Your father sold you to us because he was disgusted by you. Your brother is happy you're gone. Even your lover. He only came here to taunt you. We're the only one's that take good care of you, give you choices."
The drug hit him fast, even before she was done speaking, but she sounded so comforting, so sure, and he liked what she was saying. "Protect me, give me choices."
"That's right darling. We take good care of you, don't we?"
"We'll make sure you always feel good. You just have to do what we tell you."
"What do you want me to do?"
"The priest is a bad man. He came here to taunt you, tease you, but we caught him. His ass is all ready for you to fuck. You want to fuck him don't you?"
"Yeah," August said, feeling himself harden. "Yeah."
"He hurt you, didn't he? Didn't he leave you?"
"Yeah! He doesn't love you. He's just a cock tease, but you can get him now. You can show him how much he likes having your thick beautiful cock up his ass."
"I'm going to leave you alone with him. That candy I just gave you makes you feel really good, doesn't it? Really hot! You do what I tell you and you'll always feel like this."
August licked his lips, tried to think. His whole body ached to be touched, to fuck, to pin, to make Corey never leave him again.
The door hissed shut. Lights shifted, revealing mirrors all the way around the room, floor to ceiling.
Corey ripped the tape from his mouth, dropped to his knees. "Auggie."
"You left me!" August accused. "I cried and cried! I didn't get out of bed for six months! You left me!"
"I'm sorry. I was wrong." Corey held out his hands. "I came to find you because I love you. I want to protect you."
August lunged taking them both over onto the floor. His hard cock pressed against Corey's bare belly. "I need you! I want you. You smell so good! Then you'll never leave me again!"
Corey pressed his palms against August's face, holding him tenderly. "I will never leave you again. Look into my eyes."
Green eyes and brown locked, turmoil, pain, shame, and the root, the deepest feeling ... love. "Get away from me, Corey! I'm going to hurt you!"
"I love you, Auggie. I love you. I will always love you. I have never stopped loving you since you got me into that big fancy car of yours. You are the only person I've ever known sexually."
Hot tears fell down onto Corey's face. "I don't want to hurt you!"
"Do you trust me," Corey asked calmly.
"I trust you," August whispered, strained. "Corey, I killed a woman. I shot her."
"I hear your confession and you are forgiven," Corey said, running his thumbs over August's cheeks soothingly. "What you're feeling, this need for sex in this moment. It won't last. It's just a drug."
"But I want to fuck you! I want to ram my cock into your ass!"
"You will!" Corey said with a grin. "When we're home, on your bed, I'll lick your nipples and you'll run your hands through my hair and we'll be safe, alone, together."
"Now! I want to do it now."
"I know it feels that way. Do I love you?" Corey reached between them, ran his fingers tenderly up August's cock.
"You love me," August agreed. "I don't want to rape you," he asked, willing to trust Corey over his own experience.
"You don't want to rape me, August. Just lay here with me. Let me hold you. Our souls will outlast everything and they will always be together."
The tension melted out of August and he clung to Corey, hiding his face against Corey's shoulder. "Why? Why did this happen?"
"I don't know," Corey admitted, "But I've found you and I'm here with you. I love you so much Auggie. I'm so proud of you."
On the other side of the mirror, Ann grimaced, her phone to her ear. "He's not as fragile as I thought. The priest talked him down. I think they're going to lay there spooning talking about their souls."
Wade clenched his eyes shut, rubbed his temple. "Make the priest betray him."