I KNOW, I KNOW! Two stories at once, what am I doing, I am soooo busy and aarrgghh but on week 20 I have 6,25 hours of work (my paycheck is going to love that...) so I'll have time! I will, I promise!

Honestly, this idea just HIT me... Just like Something Borrowed. And if I don't put it online it I won't make myself write it and then I get bored. This is what happens whenever I try to start a story that is completely my own.

Anyways, I will not neglect either of my stories. It's my decisions to write them at the same time and I will have to live with it.

Hope you like it.

Warnings: Slavery, blood, language (will add more)

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee


Name

"I'll be alright, Daddy."

Burt smiled but it didn't quite meet his eyes. He gathered his son into a bone-cracking hug. "I know you will. You're the strongest little guy that I know."

"Really?" Kurt asked.

"Really. And no matter what happens, I want you to stay strong and never change who you are. Not for anyone, got it?"

"I got it, Daddy."

"It's time, Mr. Hummel."

The tears in Burt's eyes fell on his cheeks as two men in black suits took his ten-year old son's hand and started to lead him away from the small house. They had known this day was coming but it had still caught them off-guard.

"I'll see you soon, Kurt," Burt choked through his tears. Kurt nodded, his cheeks wet, too, but he knew his Daddy would never lie to him. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Daddy."


Blaine swallowed air as he watched the big, black car coming through the gates of the Anderson estate. His father was standing next to him like a statue, holding his head high and looking superior in every way. Blaine felt everything but. He had butterflies in his stomach, he was fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. He had been protesting to this ever since his parents had told him about their plan but as always, his words had gone unheard. His sister couldn't understand it. In fact, she was jealous. At this very moment she was having a screaming match with their mother, telling her that she wasn't too young and she was plenty responsible and that she had already picked out a pretty, pink collar.

But this wasn't a puppy Blaine was getting...

The car stopped right in front of them and a tall woman with short hair, dressed in a red tracksuit came out. Blaine had seen her before, once, when he had been 10. She had scared the breath out of him and did so even now, six years later. Even his father shifted just a bit under the intense stare of this woman.

"Ms. Sylvester."

"Mr. Anderson."

"Rare of your to deliver yourself."

"Well, Mr. Anderson, your order was a little different from the ordinary. I take pride in him, he's been trained well."

Just then the back door of the car opened. Blaine's breath got stuck to his throat at the sight of the boy that came out.

Tall, taller than him, brown hair and almost white, porcelain smooth skin. His lips were pink. But what really made Blaine's heart race was the look in his eyes. Even when they were fixed on the ground, his head bowed a little in respect, he could see the fire in those green-blue-grey...? eyes. The passion, the life... He was not going to be defeated, Blaine could see that he had decided that. Blaine barely registered the curly haired man holding a hand on this boy's shoulder as he could not stop staring at him.

"...in good health, physically way stronger than what you'd expect and, as your requested, a homosexual," Ms. Sylvester announced.

"Is that why his previous owner returned him?" Blaine's father asked.

"Yes. Nearly two years ago. I took him in and made him part of my elite group."

Blaine saw the boy's head bow just a little lower, as if he was ashamed of this.

"Alright, sounds like we made the right choice. Give him a name, Blaine, so I can give him his directions."

Blaine blinked. "A name? But... I'm sure he already has one."

The boy looked up for a brief second, eyes wide, before remembering his status and looking down again.

"Naming him seals your ownership. I'm sure he doesn't even remember the name he was given when he was born."

Blaine looked at the boy that his parents had bought for him. The boy that was supposedly his now. But for some reason Blaine didn't think the boy saw it quite like that. Sure, someone else told him when he was allowed to eat and take a shower but he was not owned. He wasn't some pet. And Blaine decided that if he really had to give him a name for some official papers, at least it could be nicer than a name given to a cat.

"Christopher," he finally said and Ms. Sylvester wrote that on a piece of paper. "Chris for short."

"See, that wasn't so hard now was it? Okay, so, Christopher. You are to be Blaine's personal slave. My son is going through a... phase... so your job description doesn't only include bringing him breakfast to bed if he so wants but to also tend to his other possible needs..."

"Wait a minute!" the man behind 'Chris' interrupted. "Doesn't a slave have to be 18 for that?"

"Not if the owner is a minor to, too. Now shut your face, William, or I will sell the rest of your little favorites to families who want their toilets to be licked clean. Alright, Mr. Anderson, if you'll just sign here..."

Blaine saw how William leaned to whisper something into 'Chris's' ear. The boy nodded and managed a small, sad smile. William smiled back and with one last squeeze, let go of the boy's shoulder. Blaine's dad pushed him forward and told him to take his new slave to his room to change into a proper outfit while he discussed further details with Ms. Sylvester.

"Please, treat him nice," William mumbled under his breath when Blaine came closer. He was crossing a major line by doing this and 'Chris' looked alarmed. That didn't stop William from adding hastily: "He's been through enough."

The young slave looked positively terrified now, clearly sure that Blaine was going to turn around and tell his father to have his - mentor? Teacher?- beheaded. The disbelieving look on his face was endearing when Blaine just smiled softly and took his hand, trying to be as gentle as he could. "Don't worry," he simply said and William relaxed visibly. Blaine started to lead the boy into the house but didn't miss the almost silent 'thank you'.

"Your uh... room is right next to mine," Blaine said once they were inside the house. "It's kind of small but nice enough. It used to be my playroom when I was a kid so the rooms are conjoined." The only answer he got was a slight nod. "I don't know what kind of clothes you're into so the closet is empty safe for your work clothes. I'll take you shopping some time this week so you'll have something more comfortable to wear during your fre... What?"

They had reached his room and Blaine had just put his hand on the handle when he noticed the look on 'Chris's' face. It was downright shocked, like he had never even heard the words 'shopping' or 'free time.' Blaine felt a lump burning in his throat. This boy looked like someone who most definitely disliked being told what to wear and even Blaine could see that the peach-colored t-shirt and light brown, straight pants were the wrong colors on him. Fighting against the tears of sympathy he just knew 'Chris' wouldn't appreciate, he opened the door. Once they were in he closed it quickly, letting the other boy take in his surroundings before asking what he had wanted to ask the first second he saw him: "What's your real name?"

If the boy had looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to this. "W... What?" His voice was higher than what Blaine had expected but it suited him. It was unique and beautiful... Just like him.

"Look, I don't care what my father says. I think it's only fair that you get to be called by your real name. You know, the one your mom gave you."

The boy's eyes narrowed, the shock gone from his face. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure you don't call your cook with the name his mom gave him. Am I right?"

Blaine was taken aback by this. It didn't even occur to him that a slave was most definitely not allowed to talk to him that way. "Well... No, I guess... I mean. Ted has been here since forever, he was hired before I was even born. So was the maid, Laura, and they are the only ones we have."

"They were bought, not hired," 'Chris' corrected. "And why should I be treated any differently than them? Because I'm your personal slave? You want to know what to call me when..."

He stopped in the middle of his sentence and turned away from Blaine again. He looked so tense that Blaine thought he would snap like a rubber band if anyone touched him.

"I'm not... I'm not going to have sex with you."

"Oh, please..."

"No, seriously!" Blaine said. "I just recently came out to my parents, alright? They freaked out. Having a gay son is so not part of their plan. So they've settled to think this is something that some guys just go through when they are teens and if they play along long enough, I'll just grow out of it. And yes, my dad figured it would speed things up if I had someone to... experiment with... but I would never, ever force you, or anyone, to do anything like that! And if it makes you feel better then I'll go ask Ted and Laura what their real names are first thing tomorrow morning."

There was a short silence. "If it makes me feel better?"

"Huh?"

"Did you just offer to do something that might make me feel better?"

"Yeah, I mean, what...?"

"You really are different, aren't you?" 'Chris' turned around to face Blaine again. His expression was softer now. "There aren't many like you." He sighed, the tension in his body slowly lifting. "My name is Kurt."

The sides of Blaine's mouth came up a notch. "As in Von Trapp?"

"...duh..."

"Yeah. Cobain wouldn't suit you."

Kurt... Man, Blaine liked that name... actually chuckled. "Guess it wouldn't."

There was a short silence between them again but it wasn't so uncomfortable this time. Blaine could hear the faint sound of his little sister still pleading, rather loudly, for a cute slave of her own. Blaine knew she just wanted a life-sized Barbie and someone to boss around. Someone she could put that pretty, pink collar of hers on.

Collar...

Blaine coughed, feeling a weight in his stomach. Kurt just looked up at him. He clearly knew more about this than Blaine but wasn't too eager to share the information. When the silence stretched on for a couple of more minutes, the slave sighed.

"I guess I should change then, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"You want me to call you Master Blaine or Master Anderson?"

"What are you talking about? Just Blaine is fine."

"I'm not sure your parents would appreciate that."

"Well, according to them, you're mine. And I am telling you to just call me Blaine, wherever we are."

"I'll be executed if I call you that casually in public."

"I won't let them."

Blaine had led them to Kurt's room while they had been talking. There was a queen-sized bed and a small table next to it. A huge armchair sat in the corner and there was a shelf full of books from Dr. Seuss to Dan Brown and Kurt was already eying longingly. The door of the closet was open to reveal four uniforms, two with black jackets and two with gray.

"They gray ones are for indoors and the black ones for when we're out," Blaine explained. "I'll show you the laundry room later."

Kurt nodded but Blaine saw that his eyes were fixed on the black piece of leather hanging innocently next to the uniforms. Suddenly nauseous, Blaine took a step forward and grabbed it, holding it tightly as if he thought he could kill it by strangling it and thus preventing what had to be done. "I'm so sorry for this..."

"Don't be," Kurt said. "Please, just... Don't be. I want to hate you just a little bit and it's really hard if you insist on being so nice. So let's get this over with. Put it on me. Not my first time."

Blaine took a deep breath. He had grown so used to the fact that every slave had one of these on that he barely noticed them anymore but after this he doubted he'd ever be able to forget about them again. He hated this, he felt as if he was caging a wild bird. Trying to be as gentle as possible he removed the brown collar that showed Kurt was a product of McKinley and replaced it with the one that had his own initials on it with silver letters.

"I'll leave you alone to change," Blaine said quietly. He was blinking furiously.

"I'm yours, master Blaine," Kurt replied. His tone had changed dramatically, as had his posture. Blaine started to argue but Kurt beat him to it. "You own me." No, I don't... "There's nothing you're not allowed to see."

"Kurt, I... At least when we're alone, just be yourself. I feel so horrible about all this and I don't want... I really want you to be as happy as possible so don't hide who you are. Don't change yourself because of me. Okay?" Kurt didn't answer. "Okay, well, then... I'll just be... in my room."

Blaine all but ran out of the room and shut the door behind him, giving Kurt all the privacy he could. He put his hand on his face and let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

Kurt...


"Congratulations, Kurt, sweetheart, you have just been bought!"

A 12 year old Kurt looked up to the kind of weird, ginger-haired woman, who was smiling at him, her big, almost cartoonishly big eyes shining.

"It's a really nice family, they have son who is your age."

Kurt smiled back at her. It was an honor to be chosen, especially at a young age. Maybe they wanted an apprentice for the cook or the gardener... Or maybe they just wanted their son to have someone to play with.

Oh, how could he have known?


Not what you expected? Good. :)

I'm off to work, have a good Glee Tuesday everyone!