I was the failure on that part. I never meant for the boy to get hit. He was to go to get the help he needed, the help I couldn’t offer him here.
“I’ll be good. Promise, Sir. I won’t cry if you use me. I’ll-“
“I’m not going to use you,” I stated firmly.
I lifted his head to look at me with a finger under his chin. I repeated the words, hoping he’d hear them.
“You are a human. I’ll never use you as you’ve dealt with before. I won’t rape you, and I won’t make you suck my dick or do anything sexual that you don’t want. I don’t want any of that from you.”
His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to gather his thoughts.
“I’m a slave.” He finally settled on, trying to drop his eyes. “Your slave.”
“Dakota,” I sighed, trying to come up with some sort of way to explain to him that he wasn’t what he thought he was. How the hell did other people reprogram human slavery victims? I was out of my zone, which I knew when I first brought this boy home.
“What do you think a slave has to do?” I dropped my hand from his chin.
“Serve you, sir.” He glanced at me before letting his shoulders drop. “I am to do whatever you tell me to do. I am not to cry, complain, or try to talk my way out of it. I am to be of service to you. Be that from giving you a blow job to where you share me with others to keeping a house in order. I am at your service, Sir. Do as you wish with your slave, as this slave has no feelings or personal thoughts.” A single tear slipped from his eyes as Dakota’s words came from his mouth emotionless. They were well practiced.
He slowly moved both feet to the floor, hands clasped in his lap, and sat up as straight as possible.
“Dakota, honey.” My southern accident leaked though; the darn thing I had been working on for years to get gone. The South never left me, no matter what I tried to do. “You are a human. You have the right to have emotions and thoughts.”
He only breathed in, head down, and kept his back straight. Was he still listening? Or had I lost him?
“Boy.” He jerked but otherwise didn’t move as I spoke the word low in my chest. “Relax.” At that word, he moved to kneel on the floor, despite the fact that I had told him not to do so earlier.
I gritted my teeth and stood. I wanted to cuss at the world; I wanted to shout and yell at how unfair people were. Dakota should never have to think as he was. He should be able to feel safe and be human.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I stepped away from the boy. There had to be something I could do, something I could say.
“I want someone who has emotions. Who has a voice and needs? Can my slave do that?” I nearly choked on the words, feeling my gut swirl. I hatedhaving to say it, but if it was a way to get through his stupid thick head, then so be it.
“Yes, Sir. I’ll be good.”
“That’s not what I said,” I muttered as I walked to my office. I needed space. And possibly the most prominent and most robust drink I could get my hands on.
What the hell had I done? Dakota wasn’t meant to come back more broken than he had left. He wasn’t to come back in pieces. It wasn’t much better than him being taken out in a bag at this point.
The very little progress I thought we made was all for naught.
Dakota was a slave, in and out. I was utterly fucked.
Chapter 25
Dakota
My heart was beating too fast in my chest as something crashed in Sir’s office. I was tempted to go see what broke and possibly clean it up, but instead, I stayed right where I was.
I kept my head down, hair falling over my eyes. A few last tears dried on my face, and I let my body fall into a more relaxed position. The pain was nothing if I didn’t move too much. It helped that Sir’s disappointment was far worse than the dull ache right then.
Later, I was sure that the pain would be worse. It’d take my breath away again. But maybe, anything was better than the feeling of not being what Sir wanted.
Why did he bring me back here if he didn’t want me? Why did he still have me at all, for that matter?
Wouldn’t I be better off if he just tossed me out like the trash I was?
I didn’t know what to do.
