“I finished tagging the evidence, and Cath’s talking to Brass about the witness statement, but she should be done in a little…Gris? Hello? Grissom!”

Gil’s head snapped over at Warrick’s exclamation. “What?”

“Did you hear a word I just said, man? What has got you so distracted, anyhow?” Warrick demanded, looking around.

Pointedly not looking back at the Pen he’d been staring at, Gil answered innocently, “Nothing. I was just thinking. And yes, I heard every word you said. I want you to have Greg run those fibers as soon as you get back to the lab. Have him fast track it.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Warrick snorted at that and replied, “Yes, Master Grissom, whatever you say, Master Grissom.”

Laughing softly, Gil reminded, “I could have you whipped for that.”

“Yeah, right,” Warrick countered, grinning. “Anything else?”

Gil thought a moment, then asked, “What do you think?”

“I think the dude’s wife is going to inherit a lot of money and position now,” Warrick answered.

Nodding, Gil agreed, “Where she had neither, before. It’s motive, but not opportunity. And besides, wives tend to use poison, even today.”

“Good point. All right, I’ll see you back at the lab.”

Gil nodded again and waited until both Warrick and Catherine had gotten into the SUV and driven off, pretending to look over some evidence on the ground. Not that he needed to pretend to do anything, but he definitely didn’t want to listen to their razzing if he was found ogling a slave.

On that thought, Gil’s eyes drifted over to the Northeast Pen of the slave market. It was only about ten yards away and mostly empty at this time of the month. The first of the month was typically a dry time, the middle of the month being when debtors collected and sold off the people who couldn’t pay.

This young man didn’t seem like a criminal, the typical occupant of the Pens at this time of the month. He was clean-cut and his eyes rarely left the ground, only occasionally looking at his surroundings and the people in it. It was the sign of a slave who had either been born to it, or sold as a child. Deference was written into his very body language. Drifting closer, Gil saw that the loose-fitting shirt did little to conceal a well-muscled body.

Then the slave’s head lifted for one of those few times and their eyes met. Gil’s breath caught at the innocence and beauty he found therein, even from a distance. The slave’s eyes instantly lowered to the floor.

Releasing a shaky breath, Gil took a moment to gather his composure. Approaching the Dealer, he asked, “What’s that one’s story?”

The stylishly dressed man looked over at the slave and beamed. “Master has excellent taste, if I may say so. His name is Nick and he’s been a slave since he was ten years old. His father was executed as a traitor and the rest of his family sold into slavery at the time. He has served in three honorable Houses. His first owner died of old age shortly after acquiring him. His second owner’s wife received him in a divorce settlement eight years ago and then four years ago, she fell on hard times and sold him. His last owner was murdered just last week and he fell into my hands three days ago.”

“So he was in police custody for the intervening days between the murder and when you acquired him?” Gil questioned.

“That’s correct, good Master.”

Gil looked thoughtfully at the young man and asked, “Does he have any education?”

“Oh yes, Master, he does indeed! He has finished the equivalent of a bachelor’s degree in science and technology.”

“And what sort of work did he do for his former owners?”

“He is a house slave, Sir. A personal assistant, if you will.”

“Mmm. I bet,” Gil murmured. “What sort of personal assistant?”

The Dealer met his gaze seriously and replied, “It is in part due to his diligence that his Mistress stayed afloat as long as she did. He has an excellent aptitude for mathematics and did her accounting the last two years that he belonged to her. And it was only because of him that she escaped such a fate of her own.”

“I suppose it’s too much to ask for him to be a virgin. Not at his age,” Gil murmured in regret.

Raising a hand and grinning broadly, the Dealer countered, “Not at all, Master, not at all. He is a virgin, despite favored odds to the contrary.”

Astonished, Gil’s eyes swept over to the slave. Nick’s back was rigid, which showed that he was listening to everything that was being said about him. Recovering quickly, he looked coldly at the Dealer and stated flatly, “Lying to increase the profit of a slave’s sale is against the law, and I do work for the Las Vegas Police Department.”

Round eyes widened in alarm and he said hastily, “No, Master Grissom, I make no false claims, I swear! My reputation is pristine and I certainly would not endanger it by…”

Gil held up a hand, cutting off the rest of the obsequious speech. “Just explain yourself.”

Nervous now that the hard edge of Gil’s power had been unsheathed, even just a little, the Dealer replied, “His first owner had a problem with either boys or men as sexual partners, I’m not sure which.”

“A Christian then?”

“Apparently,” the Dealer replied. Shrugging his personal bemusement of the belief system, he continued, “In any case, such was also the situation with the next owner. And when Nick was given to the wife in the divorce settlement, well, she’d left her husband for a woman…”

Gil winced. “Ouch.”

“Yes, exactly. So obviously she had no…designs…on Nick herself.”

“And his final owner?”

“No idea,” the Dealer admitted. “Not a Christian, had affairs with men in the past and apparently Nick was even his, well, type. But for whatever reason, he never touched Nick.”

“And you have proof of this?” Gil questioned skeptically.

“Polygraph.”

Thoughtful again, Gil gazed at the slave. While not impossible to beat a polygraph test, it was highly unlikely that a slave like this one would have come by the knowledge and skills to do so. It was a bizarre twist of fate that this young man would make it to… “How old is he?”

“Twenty-eight.”

That Nick would make it to twenty-eight years of age and still be a virgin. The thought of taking the young man’s virginity caused a shudder of need to go through Gil, but he had long years of keeping a poker face. None of his lust showed through to the Dealer as he said, “I want to speak with him.”

“Of course, good Master,” the man agreed deferentially with a slight bow.

Gil followed the Dealer to the gate where Nick was called over. He approached with downcast eyes, not once looking up, though Gil knew he’d heard every single word. The slave had to understand what Gil was thinking, even if he’d had no personal experience with sex. When the slave stood silently before him, head bowed and hands clasped loosely in front, Gil said quietly, “Nick.”

“Yes, Master?”

The voice was soft and held just a touch of a southern twang, Texas, if Gil wasn’t mistaken. Hearing Nick call him Master sent another thrill through him and an image of the young man writhing under him in pleasure and shouting for him flashed through his mind. Keeping his expression neutral, Gil commented, “I understand that you recently lost your Master to a murder. Were you injured?”

“No, Master. He…he protected me from the attacker.”

There was sorrow there, easily read in the tremor of the words. Gil was entranced by the lilting cadence and ordered softly, “Look at me.”

Obeying instantly, Nick met his gaze without fear. Gil found no trace of negative emotion anywhere in that look. No fear or uncertainty, just acceptance and trust. That told Gil all he needed to know. This slave was accustomed to being cared for, had most likely been a favored servant from day one with his first master. Filing that away for later, Gil said, “I understand you have had an education.”

Nick nodded and confirmed, “Yes, Master. My original owner, Lord Hiram, was very strict about that. He insisted that I have every advantage a slave can have.”

“Why is that, do you suppose?”

For the first time, Nick hesitated. “He was old, Master. I believe he thought that raising me and taking care of my needs would assure him a place in Heaven.”

“Were you raised Christian?” Gil asked curiously.

“No, Master. My parents were Olympians and though Lord Hiram instilled the Christian doctrines in me, I have never truly connected to them.”

Honest. A definite favor in the slave’s advantage. Smiling faintly, Gil asked, “Have you ever been with another slave, Nick?”

Flushing, Gil’s eyes dropped for just a moment before he dragged them back to Gil’s with an effort as he replied, “No, Master. There was…almost…once. One of the women in Mistress Yvonne’s mansion wanted to, but we were discovered before anything really happened.”

Gil moved closer, invading the young man’s space and stared into his eyes. “And what did ‘anything really,’ include.”

“Uh, kissing and, and she touched me on my, ah…”

“Cock,” Gil prompted, shifting even closer.

The flush darkened and Nick nodded jerkily, his breath increasing a little. “Yes, there.”

He couldn’t even say the word. Gil was just about ready to bend him over the nearest table and take him then and there, the need thrummed through him so tight. Forcing the impulse down, Gil slowly circled Nick, stopping just behind him and leaning in to murmur into his ear, “Sounds like she was very forward with you, Nick, touching your cock like that. Was she punished? Were you?”

A high, breathy sound escaped the young man before he cleared his throat and answered, “Yes, Master. We were both punished.”

“And what sort of punishment did you endure for letting her touch you?”

“I didn’t…! Um, I was caned, Master.”

Interesting. Nick had obviously been going to protest his innocence and, despite the fact that this Mistress Yvonne hadn’t believed him, Gil did. Switching to the other ear, Gil informed him, “Caning isn’t something I believe in, it’s not nearly permanent enough. If anyone touches you, I will make certain that the perpetrator is castrated and you will be beaten. Badly.”

There was a loud swallow and Nick whispered, “Yes, Master.”

Gil’s eyes landed on a bead of sweat trailing down the muscled neck and without thinking, he licked it up.

Nick moaned, a soft, not-quite restrained sound.

Smiling at the response, Gil pulled back and strode to the Dealer, who was facing the other way. Obviously a man who knew how to close a deal. “Get the paperwork taken care of now. I’ll wait here.”

The Dealer’s face lit up and he nodded, bowing a few times in happiness. The fact that Gil hadn’t even asked how much the slave cost told the man that it didn’t matter.

And it didn’t. With his position and power, not to mention his Spartan way of living, Gil had been sinfully wealthy for about a decade. Gil could have bought ten slaves of Nick’s quality and not had any trouble paying for them in cash.

Turning to look at his new acquisition, Gil found a strangely fearful expression on the young man’s face. It was quickly erased and for a moment, Gil couldn’t understand why it was there in the first place, when it hadn’t been before, during their conversation. Then he realized that Nick understood exactly why he’d been bought, and being a personal assistant had nothing to do with it.

Gil smiled.

* * * *

“You bought a slave at the crime scene?” Catherine demanded in disbelief.

Restraining a sigh of exasperation, Gil warned, “Not one word, Catherine.”

Amusement flashed in her blue eyes and she bowed, mocking, as she replied, “Of course not, Master. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Catherine…”

She laughed and held up her hands. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist, Gil. It’s just…you buying a slave. I thought you were a closet abolitionist, to be honest.”

Surprised, Gil shook his head and explained, “I’ve just never had a use for them. They get in the way.”

“And now?” Catherine questioned.

Gil followed her gaze to where Nick stood uncertainly in the hall outside of his office. He was dressed in jeans and a shirt, nothing to make him stand out as a slave, which was what Gil wanted. Though he wasn’t sure why. Shaking the thought from his mind, Gil admitted, “I have no idea. I just knew…when I saw him, I had to have him.”

Smiling, Catherine observed, “You always were a hopeless romantic.”

Eyes rolling, he demanded, “Do you want your assignment or not?”

“Yes, Master.”

Scowling, Gil held out a file and said, “Casino homicide.”

Catherine read the first page and frowned. “Grissom, this was last week.”

“I know. It’s Nick’s last owner,” Gil explained. “I want to make sure that the murder was as random as the cops seem to think.”

Understanding crossed her face and she stood with, “Not a problem. I’m solo on this, I take it?”

“Please.”

“Got it. I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Could you send Nick in, on your way out?”

She nodded and left. Gil watched with interest as she said something to Nick that caused him to flush a bright red before entering the office.

“What did she say to you?” Gil asked curiously.

Eyes downcast, Nick repeated, “She said you were, um, very demanding. In bed and out of it.”

Almost groaning, Gil shook his head in dark amusement and ordered, “Have a seat, Nick.”

Nick sat, but kept his eyes on the floor.

“Now, I know that the linoleum floor patterns are fascinating, but when we talk, you will look me in the eyes,” Gil commanded softly.

Instantly looking up, Nick apologized, “I’m sorry, Master.”

Gil smiled. “It’s all right. I’m going to lay down some ground rules so there aren’t any misunderstandings. First of all, while we’re on CSI property, or in the police department, or anywhere official, you will call me Gil, Grissom or, at worst, Sir. Do not refer to me as Master. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma…Grissom,” Nick amended.

“Good. Second, you do belong to me, and I fully intend to own you body, heart, and soul, but I expect you to think for yourself. The fact that you’ve been educated tells me that you have a brain and I expect you to use it.”

“Yes, Grissom.”

Funny how Grissom sounded a lot like Master. It was all in the tone.

“I’m going to set up a bank account for you and you will draw a paycheck from CSI as my assistant. That means you will have a lot of learning to do in the near future,” Gil informed him. “I want you with me on the job and eventually, you’ll become a CSI yourself, or a lab tech, or something here in this division. What position, is fully up to you. Pick something that interests you, something that will challenge you.

“I expect all of my people to do their best at all times, but I’m not a hardass unless I have to be. If you disagree with something I say, tell me. If you think that I’m wrong, I need to know and it’s your job to tell me.”

For the first time, distress showed on Nick’s face.

Gil paused, but the young man said nothing. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t know if I can, Grissom,” Nick replied, eyes wide and upset. “I’ve never…I mean…”

Seeing that Nick was truly disturbed, Gil rose and swiftly walked around the desk. Of course he’d be upset. The young man had been a slave for most of his life and probably hadn’t truly thought for himself for that entire time. Stopping beside the chair, he cupped Nick’s face and tilted it up, smiling at him. “It’s all right. I know it’s a lot to take in, Nick. All you really need to know right now is that I’m not the kind of master who is arbitrary or unreasonable. Be faithful to me and I will care for you the rest of your life.”

Calming down, a hesitant smile surfaced on Nick’s face and he whispered, “Yes, Grissom.”

A knock on the door interrupted them and Gil cursed the timing. Looking over at the door, he waved Jim in and moved to lean against the desk. “What can I do for you, Jim?”

“I really don’t appreciate being dumped on like this at the last minute,” Jim replied, clearly aggravated.

Gil shrugged. “Nothing I can do about that, I’m sorry.”

“Grissom. This is a load of bull. You want me to work with the Sheriff!? That putz?”

Stifling a laugh, Gil turned a stern look on the other man and replied, “He’s good at his job, Jim, just like you are. The only difference is, he looks better on television.”

Jim grimaced. “Very funny.”

“Do you see me laughing?” Gil added a hint of steel to his voice and kept eye contact with Jim. As expected, the cop backed down, though he grumbled about it. Placating, Gil continued, “It won’t be that bad. I already talked to him and he’s going to do his best to cooperate.”

“That’s like getting a bull to promise he won’t break anything in a China shop.”

“Maybe. But it’s a start. And I expect you to be on your best behavior as well. Don’t make me go to the Regional Lordship to request a new division leader.”

Sighing explosively, Jim asked, “Can I at least say ‘I told you so,’ when he ruins one of my cases?”

Gil hid another smile. “Yes. You have full ‘I told you so,’ rights in this case, Jim. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Who’s that?”

“Jim Brass, this is Nick. Nicky, this is Detective Jim Brass, Division Leader of Homicide and one of my employees,” Gil introduced.

Jim’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the lack of a last name, an obvious indicator of slavery, but he nodded a greeting before looking back at Gil and asking, “You planning to work tonight?”

“Actually, I’m going to bring Nicky home and get him settled in. You’re in charge until Monday.”

“Wonderful.”

At that, Gil grinned. “Come on, Brass, you’ve been telling me to take time off for months now.”

Sourly, Jim replied, “Not when we’ve got five unsolved cases on the books and two new ones just tonight.”

“I’m sure you can handle it,” Gil said, unrepentant.

“Uh huh. All right. Have a good long weekend and I’ll call you if there’s something I can’t handle,” Jim said, heading for the door.

Gil returned the wave and was surprised to find a shocked expression on Nick’s face when he looked at the younger man. “Yes, Nicky?”

“He was…he insulted you,” Nick exclaimed.

Almost smiling at the indignant tone, Gil clarified, “He had a difference of opinion. Jim’s not the most diplomatic man in the world, so I give him some leeway. He’s very good at his job.”

Sighing, plainly confused, Nick said plaintively, “I don’t understand, Master.”

Not bothering to correct the misnomer given Nick’s agitation, Gil pushed off from the desk and held out his hand. Nick took it and he pulled the younger man upright, then into his arms. Turning them so that Nick was leaning against the desk, Gil stared into his eyes a long moment before saying, “You don’t have to understand yet, Nicky. Just trust me.”

Mouth slightly open and eyes wide, Nick nodded, swallowing heavily.

Smiling, Gil turned his head and nuzzled at Nick’s throat, licking up the muscled column to just under the ear. Once there, he lightly nibbled on the lobe, then sucked on it. Nick moaned, shuddering, and his hands tightened on Gil’s shirt.

“Mmm…so responsive Nicky, I can’t believe no one’s tasted you yet. You taste so good,” Gil whispered wickedly in the nearby ear. There was another shudder and Nick’s breath hitched. After placing a tiny kiss at the juncture of jaw and ear, he finished, “I’m going to get you home and then we’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

“Oh Gods,” Nick gasped.

Pulling back, Gil gave the other man a few moments to collect himself, then put his hand out again. Nick took it and gave him a tentative smile. Offering an encouraging one of his own, Gil said, “Come on. Let’s go home.”

* * * *

For a man of his position and wealth, Gil lived in a very modest home. It was a simple one-story, hacienda style house, in shades of muted tans and beiges with accents of apricot and blue. His furnishings were comfortable and new, replaced like clockwork every two years. There were bookshelves all over the house and they were all full.

It was the decorations that spoke of his expensive taste and the money he had to indulge it. Original, understated paintings and sculptures adorned every room and there was a gold-encrusted scarab collection lining a glass case in the living room.

Gil watched Nick take in his new surroundings and smiled at the faint nod of satisfaction the younger man offered, probably without even realizing that he’d done it. Smiling, he said, “I don’t expect you to keep house, I have a cleaning woman for that. As long as you pick up after yourself, she’ll take care of the rest.”

Nick nodded again and asked hesitantly, “Where will I sleep?”

“With me,” Gil replied.

Another flush lined the handsome face and Gil wondered what it would take to keep Nick in a constant state of embarrassment; not a lot, he suspected. Closing the distance between them, Gil put his hand on Nick’s back and drew him in close. Wordless with anticipation, Gil leaned in to finally kiss the lips he’d been coveting since first spotting them in the slave market.

Sweet. Infinitely sweet and shy, just as Gil knew Nick would be. Groaning, Gil kissed him harder, his tongue probing at Nick’s lips, which opened a second after. Pushing his tongue inside, Gil tasted and devoured the younger man, not letting up for an instant, wanting more with every deep, sucking kiss.

Breathing hard, Gil pulled back and smiled fiercely at the dazed expression on Nick’s face. He seized the lips again, trying his best to memorize every tooth and palate ridge while his hands roughly massaged Nick’s back. They slid down and gripped the firm ass, squeezing the cheeks as Gil pushed a leg between Nick’s thighs and rubbed it against the hard cock he found there.

Nick gasped, arching against Gil, and moaned before going slack in Gil’s arms. Chuckling wickedly as he realized that Nick had just come, Gil pulled back enough to look at Nick again. Eyes closed this time, Nick’s face was the picture of bewildered ecstasy.

“Gods above, Nicky, you’re beautiful,” Gil murmured.

That roused him somewhat and Nick’s eyes lowered bashfully as he whispered, “I’m sorry, Master.”

Cupping Nick’s face, Gil said, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Nicky. I’ve been teasing you since the Pen, it’s only natural that you’d come so quickly. Now that the edge is off, let me give you a tour of the house so you know where everything is.”

Still embarrassed, Nick nodded and curled into the sideways embrace, his arm sliding around Gil’s waist as they started walking through the house. It was a short tour and Gil enjoyed the way Nick leaned on him throughout the entire time. They ended, of course, in the bedroom and once there, Gil parted from Nick just to look at him. The younger man was gazing around the simple bedroom, dominated by the large bed.

Gil had always enjoyed plenty of room to get to know his bed partners.

Flushing, Nick asked, “Um…should I be…doing something?”

“Oh you are,” Gil assured him, smiling as his eyes roamed over Nick’s body.

His hands reached out and held the bottom edge of Nick’s t-shirt, fingers rubbing against the soft, warm skin. Nick shivered visibly, eyes wide as he swallowed nervously but remained quiescent. Gil stepped even closer so that they were barely separated and pulled the shirt up. Nick’s arms went up obediently and the shirt was gone in a second, thrown aside and replaced with Gil’s hands. He massaged the broad chest roughly, tracing out the muscled abs with his palms.

“I, I don’t know what to do,” Nick said softly.

Gil kissed him, hard and deep, then broke it off to whisper, “I do.”

He pulled Nick in close and kissed him again, slow, soft and wet. Gil walked them towards the bed and it spoke of a trust already felt by Nick that the younger man didn’t once try to look where they were going. When they reached the bed, he broke the kiss and pushed Nick onto it. Nick lay there, looking up at him through hooded eyes that sent a shudder through Gil.

“They were wrong,” Nick said softly.

Gil frowned, hands on his own shirt, about to pull it off. “Who was wrong about what?”

Pushing onto his elbows, Nick explained, “I don’t know who they were, but a couple of men at the office called you the iceman while I was waiting outside your office. But you’re like fire, Master. I’m burning up, but I don’t even care. I want more.”

The words caused Gil to grab his own cock and squeeze to stave off the impending orgasm, his control slipping fast. Pulling off his shirt and then pushing down his pants and boxers, Gil half-grinned to himself at Nick’s gasp as the slave took in his naked body. He turned from Nick and moved to the bedstand table. Opening the drawer, Gil took out a cockring and snapped it in place, hissing in a combination of relief and frustration.

“Master?”

Nick’s uncertain voice prompted Gil to look at him and smile reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Nicky, I just want to be able to enjoy your first time as much as I hope you will. I wouldn’t want to come too soon and spoil things.”

Flushing, Nick’s eyes turned away.

Gil climbed onto the bed and straddled the young man, sitting on the hard cock and pushing it flat. Nick groaned and collapsed against the bed. Grinning, Gil leaned forward, resting his hands on Nick’s stomach, and said, “When you need to come, just come Nicky. I don’t want you to hold anything back. Never hold back from me.”

A visible shudder ran through Nick and he arched up into Gil’s heavy-handed caress. Dipping down, Gil sucked lightly on the warm skin then ran the flat of his tongue over the muscled torso. He stopped at a hard nipple and bit it lightly before sucking on it. Looking up, he saw Nick’s arms above his head, the strong hands gripping the wrought-iron headboard tight. He attacked the other nipple in a similar fashion, his fingers trailing over Nick’s body.

“Oh! Master! Oh!”

The warm splash of come against his ass caused Gil to grin fiercely around the flesh in his mouth. He shifted up and seized Nick’s open, panting mouth in an almost brutal kiss. His hands gripped Nick’s arms, pinning them in place even though Nick obviously wasn’t going to move them. His cock moved lazily over Nick’s abs, painting it with his pre-come.

Gil broke off the kiss and licked across the slight stubble on Nick’s chin. From there, he moved back down, pressing open mouthed kisses all across the torso until he was lying between Nick’s legs with the half-hard cock in front of his mouth like a prize. Licking his lips in anticipation, Gil looked up again to find Nick staring down at him in a combination of lust, confusion, and need.

“I’m going to eat you alive, Nicky.”

“Master! Oh!”

The latter was cried out because Gil started sucking fiercely on Nick’s cock, taking the respectable length a good way down. One arm rested over Nick’s abdomen to hold him down, because it was obvious the young man was struggling with keeping still as Gil sucked him with abandon. It had been a while since he’d had a partner that he’d wanted to do this with, so it took a while to work his way all the way down. When he pushed it down his throat, Nick cried out and his hips shoved up, his body straining for more of the sensation.

If Gil’s mouth hadn’t been full, he’d have been smiling broadly at the reaction.

As it was, he caressed and played with Nick’s balls, rolling and squeezing them gently with his fingers to add to the sensations. When he rubbed behind them, Nick shouted loudly and came, spilling down Gil’s throat. He swallowed it all, licking and sucking it tenderly until Nick stopped coming.

Pulling off the limp cock, panting and keenly feeling the desperate need to come himself, Gil saw that Nick was either unconscious or completely out of it. Smirking, Gil gripped the spent shaft and started stroking it again, using his other hand to play with the balls.

Moaning, throwing an arm over his face, Nick murmured, “Master, please…”

“Please what, Nicky? Look at me.”

The arm left Nick’s face and there was a pained expression as he gasped, “It’s, it’s too much. You’re too much.”

Gil left off playing with Nick’s cock and crawled up him, sucking hard on the sweaty skin as he went. He pulled Nick into his arms and held him tight, kissing him and trying to convey how precious the young man had already become to him. He couldn’t say the words, and probably never would given his past bad luck with love, but he could do everything else. When he stopped the kiss, he whispered, “I want you now, Nicky, I want to bury myself in your body and Claim you. It’s going to hurt for you, I’m sorry, but not for long, I promise.”

Curled up tight against Gil, Nick whispered back, “I want you to Claim me, I don’t care how much it hurts, Master. I’ve been waiting…forever…and now I know why. The Gods didn’t want anyone to touch me save you.”

Moaning at the words, Gil seized his mouth again and devoured it, plundered it fiercely. Breaking it off, he ordered hoarsely, “On your stomach, Nicky.”

Nick obeyed immediately, causing another shudder to run through Gil. This was his. All of this man. He wouldn’t castrate someone who dared to touch Nick, Gil would kill them. Man or woman, it didn’t matter. No one but Gil would ever touch Nick like this. When he was dead, he might even have Nicky castrated to make sure the younger man would never know any other hand. It might even be something Nick would ask for, given how fast and completely he’d accepted Gil’s mastery over him.

“Mine, Nicky,” he uttered, almost grimly. He bit at the warm back, hard, and continued, “My slave. My lover. My boy.”

Nick nodded emphatically and gasped, “Yours, Master. Only yours. Forever!”

“Spread your legs.”

Instant compliance and Gil dove into the body with his mouth again. Thrusting his tongue into the spasming asshole provoked a groan of pleasure from Nick, but Gil ignored it, concentrating on the need to ready Nick as much as possible. No lube for the Claiming, nothing between their bodies, nothing to separate them. He sucked and bit and probed with his tongue until Nick was pushing back against him.

Moving into position, Gil rubbed his cockhead around the opening, lubing it with his pre-come, which was still leaking steadily, despite the painful bite of the cockring. Then he pushed inside, breaching the virgin hole slowly. Nick moaned, but in pain this time. Going in stops and starts to try and allow Nick’s body to adjust, Gil panted in need as his cock was swallowed unwillingly by Nick’s body. The soul and heart might want this, but Nick’s body didn’t know any better and was fighting his invasion.

“Master! Oh, Gods, Master, it hurts,” Nick moaned.

Bending down, Gil bit sharply at Nick’s back to distract him. “Try and relax, Nicky, I know it hurts, but it’s worse if you fight me. Don’t fight me, give yourself to me, Nicky.”

And even though Gil knew they were futile words, since Nick didn’t know how to relax against this, the going was a little easier after that. As if by sheer force of will, Nick would force his body to obey.

Squirming under him, Nick panted, “Too much, too big, Master, I’m trying, I’m trying…”

“I know you are, you’re so good, Nicky, so perfect,” Gil assured him.

Unable to help himself, Gil thrust in the remaining few inches, burying himself completely in Nick’s body. A pained cry escaped Nick, muffled into the pillow, and his fingers were white-knuckled on the headboard. Gil stayed where he was, lying fully on Nick, his cock deep in the younger man’s body both to savor the moment of taking Nick’s virginity and to give him a chance to get used to Gil’s cock within him.

But Gil had to move, he had to claim this body as his, had to. It was an imperative that would not be denied any longer. Groaning in need, Gil shifted his position, settling on his fists and his knees for better purchase. That, of course, caused him to pull out a little. There were shuddery whimpers from Nick as Gil thrust in and out of his hole, pushing aside the virgin flesh and Claiming Nick’s body as his.

Thanks to the cockring, Gil lasted a lot longer than he ever would have otherwise. He fucked Nick mercilessly, striving to find the right angle that would change this from pain to pleasure. He was determined not to come until then, no matter the driving need for orgasm that was sizzling through his body.

And then Nick shouted and it was in pure pleasure, the other man arching up even before the cry ceased. Grinning fiercely to himself, Gil kept on that angle, doing it over and over and finding that Nick was shoving back on his cock, impaling himself in a desperate attempt to repeat the sensation.

“Oh, Master, please, please! More of that, need, too much, oh Gods, Gods, Master please!”

Gil’s body slammed into Nick’s, hard and fast, and when Nick screamed in orgasm, Gil unsnapped the cockring and shoved him down flat, humping savagely into the limp body. He came almost immediately, he seed spilling copiously into the abused flesh, and then spilling out of it. Eyes rolling back in his head, Gil dug his cock in as deep as it would go, taking all of Nick and Claiming the younger man until the sensations overwhelmed him and he tumbled into darkness.

* * * *

Nick woke mostly on his stomach with Gil still lodged partially inside him. His ass felt stretched and hot and pained, but he didn’t care. His Master was plastered along every inch of him with his arms possessively holding him tight, even in sleep. Smiling to himself, Nick made a tentative movement, as if to pull away.

Gil’s arms tightened as he muttered a sleepy protest. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere, Master,” Nick replied, rubbing his fingers over the arm around his waist.

Biting Nick’s shoulder sharply, Gil stated, much more awake, “That’s right. Not until I say so and I definitely do not say so. As a matter of fact…”

Nick cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain as Gil pushed back into him, hard but on the right angle to catch that spot inside that burst pleasure in him. He was ridden hard, almost brutally so, Gil’s cock digging inside him as he rolled Nick flat onto the mattress. Moaning as the pleasure balanced just on the edge of pain, Nick panted and spread his legs even further, begging into the pillow for more.

“Fuck, oh yeah, Nicky, so sweet, so tight,” Gil gasped, humping into him.

It was only a few minutes before Nick couldn’t take it and spilled into the mattress. He was only vaguely aware of his Master shouting his own release and the hot seed that filled his body. The aftershocks ripped through him as his heart thundered in his chest. Coming back to himself slowly, Nick laced his fingers with Gil’s and brought it up to kiss the palm.

He was…overwhelmed…by everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. And that was putting it mildly. Only the feel of his master’s arms around him allowed Nick to stay quiet and content. Knowing how much the other man wanted and needed him sent a happy thrum through him and he sighed in deep contentment.

Gil nuzzled the back of his neck and asked, “You all right?”

“Yes, Master,” Nick confirmed sleepily.

“Mmm, good. Because I have the feeling that I’m going to want to start your training later.”

Interest perked Nick up a little and he repeated, “Training?”

“Last night was your first time and I wanted it to be special, for you to be free in your release whenever you needed it,” Gil replied, kissing his shoulder tenderly. He undulated a little inside Nick, who gasped in pained pleasure, and continued, “But normally, you won’t be allowed to come unless, and until, I say so. You exist for my pleasure, Nicky, and that means that sometimes, I’ll just want to play with your beautiful body. I’ll want to do many things to you in the future and you have to learn control in order to fully appreciate and enjoy those things.”

Nick shivered at the husky tone and continued, lazy use, of his body and murmured, “Whatever your will, Master.”

“Mmm, exactly,” Gil confirmed. He cursed when the phone rang and sighed. “Be still, Nicky, I’m going to pull out and it’ll hurt a bit.”

Which it did, but Nick missed the connection more than it hurt to be separated physically from his Master. Yawning, he winced when he stretched, the pain in his ass more now that he’d tried to move.

“I already turned that down, Catherine. No, I’m not…damn it! All right, R.S.V.P. for me that I’ll be attending plus one. Thanks. Oh very funny. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Turning on his side to face Gil, uncertainty rushing up at his Master’s angry tone, Nick questioned hesitantly, “Master?”

Gil smiled faintly and ran a reassuring hand over Nick’s flank as he answered, “Everything’s fine, Nicky. We have a party to attend this evening. Let’s get cleaned up and then we have to go shopping to make you presentable.”

Moving cautiously, Nick accepted his Master’s hand up and groaned when he straightened. “Ow.”

“Come on, Nicky, a hot shower will help that a lot.”

Nick grinned at the smug tone and slid his arm around Gil’s waist.

* * * *

A long, hot shower, and tutoring on how his Master liked to be sucked to completion later, Nick was feeling a lot more human. He was still sore, but had been given a pain reliever and had a full stomach, which helped divert his attention.

It was noon before they finally left the house in Gil’s late-model, black SUV. Nick barely stifled another groan as he climbed into the vehicle and sat down. He was very pleased at how happy his Master was about the Claiming, and thoroughly content in a way that he’d never before felt, but neither negated the literal pain in his ass.

They were in downtown Las Vegas within a half-hour and Nick couldn’t stop his mouth from gaping open at the opulent splendor so casually displayed. A touch of smugness of his own surfaced when the valet showed an obsequious nature on seeing Gil. He obviously belonged to a very powerful man and that suited him very much. It also pleased him that his Master was secure enough in his own position that he didn’t need to lord it over others.

A man of mystery, was his Master. Gil was a man of wealth and position who rarely showed either. His intelligence was clear, and yet he didn’t use it to belittle or make others feel stupid. And his relationships with his subordinates were staggeringly inappropriate, in Nick’s opinion, but it seemed to work all right in the limited view of what he’d seen.

Smiling at the proprietary hand that Gil placed at the small of his back, Nick asked, “Where are we going, Master?”

“To the jewelers,” Gil murmured. “I want to chain you.”

Nick shivered at the warm voice in his ear and the reason behind it. Slaves were fitted with an electronic, sub-dermal chip to keep tabs on their movements if they ever tried to escape. It was set deep inside, so that nothing except surgery could remove it. A chain or collar was used only to show the value of a slave to the world at large. The fact that a slave wore one said that he or she was prized, and the more expensive it was, of course, the more treasured the slave was.

“Do you like the idea, Nicky?” Gil asked.

Stopping in place, Nick looked into Gil’s eyes and breathed, “Oh, yes, Master. Please!”

Gil smiled broadly and leaned in for a short, hard kiss. “Good. Let’s go see what they have.”

They, turned out to be Cartier’s and Nick nearly passed out with shock when Gil led him through the doors. They were greeted by a smiling and yet serious associate, who brought them to a glass case, once Gil explained what he was looking at.

Gil took a single look at the ones on offer and shook his head. “I want a platinum and gold mix. Something delicate, but not too delicate, with diamonds throughout, and a flat disk in the center with my initials on it.”

The associate’s eyes widened a bit in surprise at the description, not nearly as much as Nick’s did, but the man recovered quickly. “Yes, Master Grissom. I believe I have exactly what you are looking for.”

Turning a stunned gaze to Gil when the man hurried off, Nick exclaimed softly, “Master, that will cost a small fortune!”

Gil tugged him into his arms and nuzzled his throat, then sucked lightly on his ear. “Then I suppose it’s just as well that I’ve got a fortune to spend on you.”

Held against the glass case, Nick shuddered at the thigh that pressed against him, just so. When Gil pulled away, he was dazed enough by sensation not to notice that the associate had returned. By the time he’d gathered his composure, Gil was nodding at something in a long, velvet box and saying, “Yes, that will do nicely. Have my initials engraved on it and be ready within two hours. We’ll be back then to collect it.”

The associate nodded and again, Nick was struck by the wonderment that his Master really was wealthy enough not to mention cost.

Once outside, Gil slipped his arm around Nick’s waist and said, “We might as well stop in at the office since we’re out. Then we’ll get you an outfit for tonight and stop somewhere to eat, how does that sound?”

Even though he knew the question was rhetorical, Nick nodded and replied demurely. “That sounds wonderful, Master.”

* * * *

Their second trip to CSI was almost as confusing as the first. A lot more alert than before, Nick took in his surroundings with interest. This was where, for whatever strange reason, his Master wanted him to work. Thinking it more likely that Gil just wanted him nearby, Nick tried to pay attention to everything that was going on.

He was photographed and given security clearance, and a badge made for him. It was strange to see his last name again, especially on an official document, but Nick didn’t question it. He’d almost been hoping that it would come out, ‘Nick Grissom,’ but knew it was too much to ask only a day after being bought. The fact that Gil was spending what amounted to a small fortune on his chain contented Nick and sent a thrill of pride through him.

“Gris! Grissom, hang up!”

Turning when Gil did, Nick found a tall, black man rushing over to them. He was handsome with chocolate skin and gray eyes.

“What is it, Warrick? I don’t have a lot of time,” Gil replied.

The man, Warrick, looked at Nick for a moment, then at Gil and said, “You were right, man. The fibers were from a purse, a very expensive, designer purse that was purchased by the wife. We’re getting a warrant for the house now.”

“Good job, Warrick,” Gil complimented, smiling. “Give Greg a special night or something.”

Wriggling his eyebrows, Warrick replied, “Already did, man. So look, about that Reynolds case.”

“Warrick…”

“It’s not fair, Grissom! Sara’s got less time in here than I do!”

“But she can work with Brass and not walk away with a black eye,” Grissom stated. “It’s her case, end of story.”

Scowling, Warrick complained, “Just because he’s a bag of wind means I get penalized.”

Gil sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he said, “Look. You work a low-profile case with Brass and neither of you even comes close to coming to blows, and then I’ll consider giving you a high-profile one. All right?”

Still not happy, Warrick nodded. “Yeah, all right.”

“Good. Now then. Warrick Brown, this is Nick. Nicky, this is Warrick Brown, one of my top CSI’s,” Gil introduced.

“Hey, man, how are you?” Warrick greeted, sticking out a hand.

Nick hesitated, but accepted the shake at a nod from Gil. He smiled at the other man and answered, “Fine, thanks.”

“I heard the Mayor roped you into attending that thing tonight. You rent Nick?” Warrick asked curiously.

Gil’s hand descended possessively on Nick’s shoulder as he answered, “Nick belongs to me. We’re having a chain done up now and I thought I would get some details taken care of while we waited.”

Warrick grinned and crowed, “All right! It’s about damn time, man! You know how happy I’ve been with Greg. I can’t believe that you finally gave in, though. Thought you were a closet abolitionist.”

Eyes rolling, Gil replied, a little snippy, “Not that my philosophical thoughts on the status of abolition are anyone’s business, but just to make it clear to the grapevine, I am not, nor have I ever been, one of them.”

Saluting, Warrick said, “I’ll be sure and pass it on down the line.”

“You do that,” Gil agreed, snorting. “In the meantime, we need to get going. We still need to get Nick outfitted for tonight.”

Warrick nodded at them both and said, “Good to meet you, Nick, welcome aboard. Oh, and, watch out for this guy, he’s got a really big…”

“Warrick!”

Smirking at Gil’s scandalized tone, Warrick winked and sauntered down the hall.

Gil sighed. “Sometimes I think I really ought to flog him.”

“He is very disrespectful, Master,” Nick observed hesitantly. “Why don’t you?”

Cupping Nick’s face, Gil kissed him slowly then answered, “People work better without the threat of physical punishment for speaking out of turn. I like to think that we’re the best crime lab in the country because of the free rein I give my people. And it’s Gil or Grissom in here, remember?”

Nick winced, having completely forgotten. “I’m sorry, Ma…Grissom.”

“It’s all right, Nicky. It will take you a while to adjust, I know. Come on, let’s go pick out your clothes, then get your chain and eat.”

It didn’t occur to Nick until they were out of the office that if Warrick had been going where he thought the black man was going with his comment, he would have had to see Gil naked at some point. Maybe even experienced…Nick shook that thought from his head.

What happened before didn’t matter. All that did matter, was making his Master so happy that he never even looked at anyone else again.

* * * *

The fitting was easy, since Nick was used to standing still for long periods of time, and it didn’t take too long. Black slacks and a flowing, blue silk shirt. From there, they returned to the jeweler’s and Nick practically bounced in excitement as the chain was clasped around his neck. Looking in the mirror provided sent a flush of happiness through him and he exclaimed, “Oh, Master, it’s beautiful! Thank you!”

Gil brought Nick in for a long, possessive kiss, then declared softly in his ear, “You make it so, Nicky.”

Even though he knew there was a stupid grin on his face, Nick couldn’t be bothered to care. He really felt as if the Gods meant for them to be together, the reason that he hadn’t been touched his whole life, save that once. And he hadn’t even wanted to be touched, it hadn’t mattered to him. He’d thought, with his last Master, that things would be different, but then he’d been killed. He knew, of course, that it was so he could belong to Gil. That, for whatever reason, the Gods had decided to twine the strands of their fates together.

When Gil finished signing something, he captured Nick’s hand and said, “Let’s go, Nicky.”

* * * *

They had a late lunch/early dinner and then it was back to the house to change. While they were there, Nick discovered that his Master had a slightly cruel, but very playful side, one with a bite to it. When he was nude, standing in the center of the living room, Nick flushed hot with embarrassment as his Master just stared at him.

“Control, Nicky, just remember that. Your body is mine and you have to master it to please me.”

Nodding, Nick just stood there, waiting. He didn’t have to wait long as Gil closed the distance and took hold of his half-hard cock. The stroking was rough and fast, hardening him the rest of the way in a very short time. Nick had to grip his thighs to keep himself upright as he fought for control of his body. Just when he was about to come, Gil took away his hand and ordered, “Don’t come! Don’t come, Nicky, or I’ll be very displeased.”

Moaning in agony, Nick struggled on the knife’s edge of pleasure, but slowly managed to keep a rein on his cock. Again and again, he was brought to the breaking point, only to be reminded, “Control, Nicky, remember? Your body is mine and you have to master it to please me.”

By the time he was finally allowed to come, Nick was desperate and babbling, pleading and begging for release.

And then the magic words… “Come, Nicky, come for me.”

Nick’s body exploded and he collapsed, panting, into his Master’s arms. Gil pulled him into his arms and brought him to sit on his lap on the large sofa. Shaking from reaction and the ecstatic torture he’d been put through, Nick clung to his Master. He was soothed by the gentle rocking and the firm, loving touch up and down his back, as well as the tender kisses to his forehead.

“So perfect, Nicky, so good. You did wonderful, incredible, for your first day of training,” Gil whispered in his ear.

Snuggling against his shoulder, Nick asked shyly, “I pleased you, Master?”

A warm chuckle echoed between them and Gil kissed the top of his head. “You pleased me very much, my boy, very much. Take a short nap because we need to get cleaned up for the party.”

Nick yawned and nodded, secure and content in his Master’s arms as he drifted into sleep.

* * * *

The Mayor’s palace, a place that Nick still couldn’t believe that he was in, was as opulent a building as he’d ever seen. Though dressed with as fine a quality as everyone else, Nick’s bare feet and chain designated him as a slave. The marble was cool under his soles, but clean enough to eat from, never mind walk barefoot on.

Gil’s possessive hand on his back was reassuring. He saw many interested and hungry looks as eyes slid over him. There were things in his Master’s manner now that he hadn’t before seen; a darker edge as his power was unveiled, but held in check. It was a heady mix and kept Nick half-hard just from being near it. He wanted nothing more than to cling to the older man and absorb his power in the most old-fashioned of ways, right here in the middle of everything. He wanted to show off his Master’s virility in any way possible, and so showed his submission, keeping his eyes downcast and standing as close to Gil as possible.

Gil leaned in close and murmured, “You’re the belle of the ball, Nicky, and you’re all mine. That’s the Mayor calling me over personally, even though we were just at each other’s throats last week over a case, and I won.”

Against the Mayor? Nick didn’t know whether to be aghast at his Master’s flouting of Senatorial authority, or proud of his strength in winning. He sided instinctively with Gil and followed meekly, kneeling gracefully when Gil came to a stop in front of an older man in a plain, but elegant suit.

“Master Grissom, how nice of you to join us!” the man exclaimed.

Nick couldn’t see anything from his viewpoint, but he felt the tension in Gil’s hand on his head and heard it in his voice when he said, “Thank you so much for inviting me, Lord Mayor. It’s an honor.”

“And who is this?”

“My slave, Nick.”

“Mmm. Delicious. I didn’t realize that you kept any slaves, Master Grissom.”

“Only Nick, Lord Mayor.”

“I can see why. I don’t suppose you would consider loaning him out?”

Nick’s stomach dropped with a sickening lurch. Though he didn’t move, Gil’s hand on his head tightened.

“I’m afraid not.”

“I’m not terribly surprised. I suggest you not let Master Crane see him as this slave is exactly his type.”

“Master Crane will find himself short a few vital parts if he thinks to touch what’s mine.”

And though the words were light, even humorous, there was an undertone of steel that sent a shiver of desire and fear through Nick. He concentrated on the gold flecked pattern of the marble to try and get control of himself.

“Quite understandable.”

Gil’s hand shifted to Nick’s shoulder and he ordered, “Let’s go, Nick. Thank you again for the invitation, Lord Mayor.”

On his feet right away, Nick followed Gil to the other end of the room where they went through a door. This was a smaller, empty room with only furniture and books, a study of some kind. Nick found himself shoved against the wall as Gil attacked his mouth, pinning him there. Then his pants were pushed down and Gil made his way down to suck his cock through the fabric. Nick moaned in pleasure.

“Quiet Nicky, don’t make any noise,” Gil admonished looked up at him with a wicked gleam in nearly serious eyes. “Consider this another part of your training.”

Nick’s jaw snapped shut on the protest that had almost automatically been made. He shoved a fist in his mouth as his cock was taken deep into his Master’s mouth and then pushed all the way in. He struggled to stay quiet, not to make a noise as the pounding of his blood grew. The fist helped block what little he couldn’t keep inside as his noises grew distressed with the need to come.

He would have begged for release, except that he knew now that Gil would let him come, or not, on his own whim. When Gil pulled off, Nick whimpered, tears of frustration in his eyes.

“When I’m all the way down, Nicky, then you can come,” Gil ordered.

Blinking away the tears, Nick nodded, panting, and waited. His cock was slowly enveloped and taken deep into his Master’s throat. When his mouth pressed to Nick’s pubic hairs and swallowed, Nick cried out and came, spurting his seed into his Master. A strong hand kept him upright as Gil gently tucked his spent cock away and zipped him up.

Gil stood and kissed him deeply, sharing Nick’s own seed with him, and he took it without hesitation. He would rather have had his Master’s seed, but this would do since it came from his Master’s mouth.

Smiling broadly, Gil fussed with Nick’s clothes for a bit then said, “All right, let’s head out. I suppose we’re presentable.”

Nick tucked shyly against his side as they left the room.

* * * *

Thoroughly sated and knowing that it showed in the sweaty shirt and hovering grin, Nick was glad of the tradition that kept his eyes down. This way he didn’t have to meet eyes with anyone who might get the wrong idea.

Sitting alone at the small banquet table, Nick was tempted to look around for Gil, but restrained himself. He’d complained about needing to mingle, but told Nick that it was necessary now and again and, since they were there, he had to renew some acquaintances. Nibbling on a chunk of pineapple, Nick had to lick his fingers, it was so juicy, then belatedly grabbed a napkin.

“Now there, is a sight.”

Nick froze at the unfamiliar voice, then continued to wipe his hands clean.

“A proper, well-mannered slave willing to put on a show like that is so rare these days. Grissom must be doing something right if he found you.”

Getting distinctly nervous at the continued presence, Nick couldn’t even speak back in defense of his Master. Not if he didn’t want to earn a beating for talking back to a freeman.

“Get up and come with me, slave.”

At that, Nick risked a quick look around for Gil, but found him nowhere near.

“Are you deaf, or just disobedient?”

Thinking that he might have found a loophole, Nick said softly, “My first obedience is to my Master, good Sir, and he ordered me to remain here until his return.”

“Your Master isn’t here, slave, I am. And in his absence, since he has abandoned you, I can do whatever I want to you.”

Which was the law, of course. An abandoned slave could be claimed by anyone of Master rank, and the official ring on the man’s hand denoted that rank. And yet, he hadn’t really been abandoned, because Gil was right here, somewhere, trusting that this place was safe to leave Nick on his own. Which of course it should have been. Masters didn’t go poaching slaves just because one caught their fancy, it simply wasn’t done.

“Now, slave.”

Except in these kinds of rare situations.

Dragging his heels as much as possible, Nick shrank from the tight hand that painfully gripped his shoulder, but had no choice except to follow the man. When he was pushed into the same small room as before, it was a completely different experience. There was no joy and no desire, just fear and humiliation and pain as the man’s hands touched him everywhere, pinching and twisting his body to suit his perverse wants.

I’m sorry, Master, please forgive me! Nick cried out silently as the man bit him hard enough to raise a bruise and mark his flesh. Let me kill myself to spare you the shame, please, Master, I’m sorry!

He was crying, but didn’t even notice, so desperate was he to get rid of his attacker. He was thrown to the ground and his head connected painfully with the marble tile, enough to blur things, but not cause him to black out altogether. He felt the rough hands as they pulled his pants down and flipped him over. Felt the probing of a single finger to test his body and heard the hissed, “Perfect. Nearly a virgin, aren’t you, slave? I bet Grissom’s barely even had you more than a few times. Won’t want you after this, either, will he?”

Sobbing now, Nick shook his head, hands over his ears to block out the taunting words.

And then the weight on him was gone and Gil’s voice hissed, “Outside, Crane, now! Swords. I will have your life for this!”

A taunting, “Like you can move fast enough anymore, Grissom? I’ll own this pretty boy for real come the end of the night and then I’ll make him over so he doesn’t even remember who he is, let alone who you are.”

There was the meaty sound of a fist hitting flesh, but Nick was curled into a ball, trying not to listen to the exchange. He was disgraced, a ruin, a thing that his Master would never want to touch or kiss again. Gentle hands rested on his back and he flinched at the contact, whispering, “A dagger, Master, please, let me kill myself!”

Horror filled Gil’s voice as he exclaimed, “No! No, Nicky, oh my boy, never. Look at me, it’s okay, he’s gone.”

Fearful, Nick lowered his arms and looked up to find fury and pain on his Master’s face. Still crying he exclaimed, “I had to obey him, Master, I’m sorry, but I had to! I told him that you ordered me to stay there for you, but you weren’t there and he claimed the right of abandonment and I couldn’t say no to him and I’m so sorry! Please, let me kill myself to redeem your honor!”

“Oh, Nicky,” Gil breathed, his brow tight with pain.

Gil pulled at Nick and settled him in his arms, holding tight as he rocked them both. Nick cried out the fear and humiliation in the warm comfort of arms he’d never thought to have around him ever again. Holding tight to the shirt he’d wet with his tears, Nick finally got control of himself enough to gasp again, “I’m sorry, Master.”

Kissing the top of his head, Gil promised, “It’s not your fault, Nicky. Once I knew Crane was here, I shouldn’t have left you alone. I just didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to challenge me like this. It’s not your shame, Nicky, it’s mine. I’m so sorry for putting you through that.”

Finally gathering enough courage to meet Gil’s eyes again, Nick saw that every word had been meant. Throwing his arms around Gil, Nick held tight and whispered, “Don’t die, Master, please don’t die.”

Gil chuckled. It was shaky, but definitely filled with warmth and his lips pressed to Nick’s temple. “Crane can’t touch me with a sword, Nicky. I’m going to kill him for what he did to you, slowly I might add, and then I’ll take you home and wash every trace of him from your body. After that, I’ll remind every part of you just who owns you.”

Seizing his Master’s lips in desire and desperation, Nick thrust his tongue inside. He moaned when Gil’s hand gripped him between the legs and his Master broke apart to mutter, “Then again, now works too.”

Gil ripped off Nick’s shirt and he threw it aside. “I should have just brought you naked, clad only in my marks and my chain. No one would have dared to touch you then, not even Crane.”

“Yes, Master, oh, Gods above! Yes!” Nick cried out when Gil sucked and bit at his nipples. Pain flashed through him as blood was drawn around his right nipple. He watched in amazement as his Master lapped up the oozing blood. Strong hands shoved his pants down and Nick helped to kick them off.

“Turn over, slave, on your knees,” Gil ordered, voice barely more than a growl.

Nick instantly turned over, spreading his legs. The cock that split him open only a second later caused him to howl in pain and need. More bites all over his back, a few that he could vaguely tell as drawing blood only because they hurt more than the others. The cock slamming in and out of him was merciless, taking him hard and fast, replacing horrible memories with good ones as his balls were toyed with and his shaft pumped.

“Mine, mine, mine.”

The chant, combined with the hard Claiming, was driving Nick out of his mind and he started begging, “Please Master, please, let me come, please, anything, Gods, anything please! Just need to come!”

Gil shouted and came inside him, slamming deep one last time. Nick had to grit his teeth, wailing in denial, in order not to follow his Master. Seed spit into him and Gil’s hips humped almost lazily against him, rubbing the semen deeper. Moaning in frustration, Nick bit his lip bloody to keep himself from coming and finding release without permission.

Kissing and licking along Nick’s back, the saliva stinging at the bite marks, Gil worked his way up, then pulled Nick into an upright kneeling position and humped lightly against him, increasing the friction while his hand renewed its assault.

And again, the magic words whispered in his ear… “Come for me Nicky.”

Nick’s mouth opened as he came, but no sound escaped, his body falling back against his Master as he spilled all over the floor and himself. Gil’s arms wound around his chest and he kissed Nick’s throat as he pulled out. Even through the haze of orgasm, Nick whimpered at the pain.

“Shit!”

Alarmed at his Master’s alarm, Nick looked back to find Gil staring at his ass. “Master?”

“I think I tore you, there’s blood on me,” Gil informed him, grimacing. “How do you feel?”

Nick thought about it, then shrugged. “It hurts, but only a little more than this morning. I think I’ll be fine.”

Half-smiling, Gil stood and replied, “Well, we’ll have a doctor look at you before we go home.”

Accepting the hand up, Nick asked, “Master, what if, what if…”

“If I die?” Gil prompted gently.

Fearful, Nick nodded.

“I changed my will today while at CSI. If anything happens to me, if I die for any reason, I’ve bequeathed you to my friend Catherine. She’s a good woman, Nick, and will probably use your help to raise her daughter, since her husband is no longer in the picture,” Gil assured him. Then he hesitated and added, “I also put in a stipulation…”

“Master?”

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this, Nicky,” Gil admitted, troubled. “I’ve never been this possessive before, but I can’t bear the thought of it, even if I’m dead.”

Nick guessed what the stipulation was and his mouth dropped open into a wondering smile. “You want to castrate me after your death?”

Anxious, Gil asked, “Is that all right?”

“Yes!” Nick exclaimed, throwing his arms around the older man. Sighing in contentment, Nick whispered, “No one has ever loved me that much, Master, never. And I would go through that even without you putting it into your will. For you. I want to always and only be yours.”

“Oh Nicky,” Gil breathed, holding him tight.

“Master Grissom?”

Sighing, Gil called, “I’ll be right out.”

Fearful again, Nick asked him, “Are you sure you’ll be all right? I’m not worth…”

“Yes, you are,” Gil interrupted fiercely. Gripping the back of Nick’s neck, he continued, “And even if you weren’t, even if Crane had chosen another method, I would never let a challenge to my authority stand like this. He’s going to die tonight…slowly.”

Shivering at the cold, implacable tone and the gleam of retribution in his Master’s eyes, Nick could only nod and follow him meekly out of the room.

* * * *

Kneeling by the edge of the ‘ring,’ Nick was given a clear view. The cool night air was just a hair too cold to be comfortable for nudity, but Nick ignored it, his focus solely on his Master talking only a few feet away with the Lord Mayor.

“Please, accept this sword, Master Grissom, my personal sword, as an apology to what happened tonight,” the Mayor said. “I never dreamed Crane would do something like this.”

The smile was plainly forced as Grissom replied, “No apology is necessary, your Lordship. You couldn’t have known he would be that stupid. The only thing I require is that this be a death match.”

The Mayor blanched, but nodded. “I understand.”

Gil’s lip twitched and he said, “I doubt that. This isn’t just about a slave, my Lord Mayor. Crane has been harassing my people in the course of their duties for months now. He stalked one of my best CSI’s and I will not let that stand. I would have preferred a more private…arena…but he has made that impossible.”

Thoughtful now, the Mayor again nodded and agreed, “As you will.”

Gil took the sword and strode onto the smooth, wooden courtyard floor, cutting the air with it a few time to loosen up. Nick’s eyes were glued to the powerful frame, powerful even with the hint of a gut forming. This was a man in his prime. Nick’s eyes shifted to the opponent and he was surprised to find that Crane was a lot smaller than his position had made him seem earlier. This was the man he’d been afraid of? Of course, it was difficult not to be afraid when you couldn’t fight back, he supposed.

Both men wielded the swords with knowledgeable aim, but it was Gil who drew first blood. Grinning fiercely, Gil said, “I’m going to gut you and stake you out, Crane. You picked the wrong man to cross.”

The words caused a flicker of fear across Crane’s face and Nick knew, then, that his Master was right. Fighting was half psychological, according to his first tutor, and in that respect, Gil had already won. The battle took on a desperate quality from Crane, while Gil remained cool and impervious. The blades clashed harshly, jangling on Nick’s nerves, and sometimes even drawing sparks.

Crane slipped up, overextending himself, and Gil’s sword pushed right into his gut. Blood spilled instantly, and Crane gasped in shock, his sword dropping from lax fingers and his eyes already glazing with pain. Gil yanked his blade free and kicked Crane’s legs out from under him. When the other man was down, Gil drove his sword back into Crane and the loud thunk of metal in wood told Nick that the blade was stuck.

Shivering at the feral look in his Master’s eyes, Nick immediately looked down.

“He stays right there. No one touches him or tries to save him,” Gil stated calmly, leaving the impromptu arena. “My Lord Mayor, thank you for the use of your sword. May we have somewhere to clean up?”

Obviously stunned at the cold-blooded violence, the Mayor nodded and agreed hastily, “Of course, Master Grissom.”

“Nick.”

Instantly on his feet, Nick kept his eyes to the floor all the walk to the guest quarters another slave showed them to. Once the door closed behind them, Gil rushed to the bathroom and proceeded to throw up into the toilet. Nick hurried after him and knelt on the floor, rubbing his back soothingly. He reached up and wetted a facecloth with cool water, then mopped the bloody brow and murmured, “It’s okay, Master, it’s over. You won.”

Shaken and pale, Gil shook his head and spat into the toilet, looking nauseous again. “I didn’t win, Nicky. Violence solves nothing. I reverted two thousand years to make my point to all and sundry that Gil Grissom is not to be fucked with. Not if they want to live.”

Nick pulled him in close and Gil sighed deeply, collapsing against his chest. Pressing his lips to his Master’s temple, Nick murmured, “Those are the rules by which we live, Master, there is no changing the world. The Emperor rules the world. The Presidents rule the countries. The Lord Mayors rule the states. You are given power to wield and some people only respect the sword and the gun. There is no reasoning with them. But you are a good man, Master, and I can not wait until a Feast Day to pay homage to the Gods for giving me to you.”

Still shaking, though less so, Gil didn’t answer. He sighed again and rested his head against Nick’s shoulder. “So will I, Nicky, so will I.”

Smiling, Nick kissed him again and continued to hold him.

* * * *

“The death match was over, of all things, a slave. At least according to reports from party-goers. There hasn’t been a death match of any kind at this rank for over a decade and we’ll be first on the news to keep you apprised of the situation and the results of this incredible affair. Stay tuned.”

Sara’s mouth twisted as she turned off the television, tossing the remote aside and saying, “You wouldn’t be that stupid, would you Grissom? To fall for a slave?”

Laughing coldly at the thought, she stood and crossed over to her bedroom. It was only a matter of time before she could bring enough pressure to bear for Gil to accept her advances. She just had to be patient.

Patience was, after all, a virtue.