There was no reason to be modest. Not for what I was; not for who I was.
I dropped my pants, right where I stood, then pulled my shirt over my head. All the while, I evened out my breathing and tried to let my mind go to better places.
“Stand on the black box thing here.” I followed where he pointed, feet gripping the lined textured hard surface. It only took a full minute before a screen with numbers beeped in front of me. I knew the numbers but had no clue what they meant. Eighty-three.
“Back to this wall, feet flat.”
As I did so, the cold of the plastic ruler against my back was more jarring than the size of the man who stood right beside me. If I had felt small before, this was worse. He was easily double the size of me, which should be normal. I’ve always have been on the small side, and I knew that wasn’t going to change.
“Go sit.”
The metal was even colder with no material separating it from my skin. It was bad enough that this room was on the chillier side anyway.
“I do love boys who follow directions.” He paused, pulling out a few things from the cupboards. Then, as he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, he took my arm and inserted something cold, which in turn he connected to a bag of some sort of liquids that hung behind me. From the same spot in my arm, he drew blood into stick-like things, and I couldn’t help but grimace against the feeling.
I had to turn my eyes away as he finished up, feeling queasy.
Once he seemed to be done with that part, he felt around every part of my body from head to toe. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, or why. I kept my gaze on his chest, barely breathing as his hands touched parts of me that I wanted to hide for the rest of my pathetic life.
Something cold swiped around my soft private part, leaving a tickling sensation afterwards.
“Lie back.” My body did what it was told. It almost always did. With my back against the cold hard surface, the man spread my legs, placing each foot into some sort of holding post. There was no warning – not that there ever was – before something cold was pushed into my butt. I blinked, knowing for once what he was doing.
I knew I was like an animal, and testing for infection was all the same way as a cow. Thankfully, I hadn’t been a sick child, which probably helped me stay alive as long as I had.
Once the thermometer peeped, the man removed it. I kept still since there had been no orders or commands for me to do anything else.
“I’m betting you’re gonna be the next favorite around here,” the man stated as if that was a good thing. I knew it wasn’t going to be. Being marked with that one word never ended well. “All done, for now.” He patted my legs, the only indication that it was okay to move them. I did, slowly, just in case it was a test.
He waited until I was sitting once again before talking. “I have some questions while the bag of fluids finishes getting into your system. Can you read?”
“Tiny bit.” That was one thing I knew to lie about. I knew how to read well enough to get by. It was a must to know how to deal with some things. I had seen firsthand how some slaves were treated if we confessed about knowing how to read. Reading gave us the ability to run, to think we could run off if we got the chance. “Enough to fetch certain items, if need be.”
“So, if your handler of the night wanted you to read them a book for enjoyment....” He trailed off.
“I would have to be punished for not being able to follow that order, Sir.” The lie slipped too easily from my tongue.
“What past services have you completed?”
It was more of what I hadn’t been able to do. “I can do whatever is ordered of me.” My heart hurt saying that, but it was the truth all the same.
Chapter 4
Three days.
Three days of either pure torture or pure freedom. It was hard to figure out what option it was.
I was stuck in the room, watching as the other boys were called out to service a client. Once, I was left completely alone in the room while all six of them were called. I didn’t ask where they went, or why they had to dress in different clothes for that particular night.
Some things were better to not know about. I was sure I’d find my answer when I was cleared to begin.
I secretly hoped that whoever was in charge would forget about me, never want to meet me so I could rot away in here. Being invisible was ten times better than being seen.
During my time here, I walked the room, letting my hand trail over every surface I could reach. I explored the drawers, the one that was to be mine. That one held similar clothes to what all the boys wore. Simple cotton pants and a shirt. Other boys had a bit fancier clothes. Black slacks, suits, and a mix of some regular clothes.
Sometimes, a few of the boys came back with tears in their eyes. Some had bruises, and some came back with bars of candy that they happily shared with the rest of us who may be in the room.
I wasn’t sure if I preferred to be left alone, or having others in here who wanted to talk. I didn’t want to get to know these boys. There was no point in it when I knew my time here was limited.
