Complications

It had been a while since she last saw him. Her heart was heavy. Why does he still try to impress? In the short time they had dated, she always looked at him as a submissive. Now, six months after the breakup, he was back, trying as hard as ever to win her heart over.

She hears a knock on the door again. It must be him. Only he would knock in the most gentle way, anticipating her response by opening the door for him. Moreover, even letting him stay. Should she do it? Open the door? Or even... Let him in?

She slowly goes to open the door. His 6-foot body towering over her as she opens it.

"What is it you thought I need?" She asks quietly.

"Anything Mistress, I am here for your pleasure."

"Come in then, shut the door behind you."

He walks in, immediately shuts the door behind him. She gestures him to stop him from doing anything else.

"Crawl slave."

He gets down on his knees; as usual, crawling behind her. She stops in front of his special made room. He quietly waits for her at the door while she enters, picks up something from the closet and comes back out.

He stares at the strip of leather she is holding. He falls back on his knees, lifting his chin up so that she could lock the leather around his neck.

"Good boy." She ruffles his hair.

"Bend over, Joel."

She feels for the base of the plug that had been in his ass for the entire day. She pulls on it slightly, causing him to grunt.

"Good boy," continuing to ruffling his hair.

He embraced her touch, closing his eyes to feel her hands massaging his head. That was the last time he would ever see, hear, or feel her touch again, at least for a while.

**********************************

Every time he woke up, the image of her face scarred his face. But it was too late, his desperate pleas to his kidnappers did not stop them from taking him to the slave camp. Now, 5 months later, he wondered if she had forgotten about him.

He looked to the slaves beside him, hanging from their chains, all wearing a collar, ankle and wrist cuffs. He looked down at his own collar, he still couldn't explain why his was different. He had gotten used to the collar around his neck, though he missed Mistress Lani's more. While everyone else had a leather collar, his had a metal stripe goes across. Suddenly, a bell sounded.

"Get up you slaves! Hurry up!" yelled one of the trainers.

He groggly waited for a trainer to release him from his chains. It felt good to stretch after being couped up for the night. He hated the mass cages of the camp. He felt a leash being clipped to his collar; his trainer grinning at him. He immediately went down to his knees, hoping she would reward him. She bent down to his eye level.

"Come Joel, we will be having your training on our own," she whispered in his ear.

He nodded in response. He also noticed that no other slave was called by their real name, only him. But he diligently followed his trainer to a separate room, where breakfast awaited. He waited for her to set a plate down on the ground for him and begin eating before he dug in. He had respect for his trainer, she wasn't the strictest, but cared enough about him to give him the tough love he needed for strength. She had called it 'loving pain', but to him, it was another reminder of his real mistress.

He waited until she was finished before silently collecting both of their plates and handed it to the collared butler waiting outside. Then he dead bolted the door behind him, crawling toward his trainer once again.

"What shall we do today... what about whipping you? Are you ok with that, Joel?" She asked.

"Yes Mistress," he answered, though he knew this was only temporary.

She walked over to the large cabinets behind him, indecisive on the tool she will use to mark him.

"Stand."

She runs a chain through his wrist cuffs, leaving little room for him to squirm. She loops the chain to a T post against the wall and padlocks it. She clips his ankle cuffs to the floor. She stands back to look at his impressive body. Next, taking a plug out of her pocket, she walks back over to him, stuffing his mouth full of the silicone cock.

"You better lube this up enough, or your ass is going to burn like hell."

His face was full of saliva and silicone cock before she took it out of his mouth and shoved it half caringly, half forcefully into his ass. He grunted at the plug sliding into him.

She chuckled. He took it like a man, never mind that, a slave.

She playfully flicked the flogger at his round ass. It softly hit him and he lit up in shock. She immediately ball gagged him, restricting his groans and moans even further.

"Don't you dare come, but you may ask for a break if it gets too much for you," she whispered in his ear, "we all know you're a pain slut."

She flicked her wrist to hear the snap of the flogger hitting his butt cheeks, growing redder with every whip lash. He moaned as the lashes burned through his skin, crying out but muffled with the gag.

"Break," he stammered, "Please Mistress... break."

She put down the flogger and ran over his reddened skin with her cool hand, momentarily soothing his battered body. She lets him regain his breath before lifting the flogger again, this time hitting slightly softer.

"What do you say?"

"Thank you Mistress," he murmured.

**********************************

Meanwhile, Lani stood in front of the large brown doors of Regencé Manor. It had been months since he last came to visit her at her house, for whatever his true intentions were. Days have come and gone, and yet she still pondered on the thought of his pleading eyes the last time she saw him. The doors of the Manor finally opened, and she breathed in a sigh of nervousness as she stepped inside.

**********************************

It was noon, and time for lunch. His training was near complete, and he could feel that his days at the camp were at the end. Soon, he would be shipped off to a mistress, collared, and become a part of one of the three factions: Aerus, Jerius, or Herius. But above all his desires, he wanted to be with his true mistress, and wondered if she would even accept him after all.

He felt a leash clipping to his collar, then looking up to meet the gaze of his trainer.

"Shall we head to lunch, Joel?"

"Yes Mistress."

***********************************

From the main room of Regencé Manor, Lani followed the rest of the mistresses to their seats, awaiting the arrival of Head Mistress Laura. In a week or so, the newly trained slaves, selected from various slave camps and slave academies, would then enter the room. One by one, the slaves would be chosen by the mistresses and be bestowed their place as part of a faction. She treaded the feeling of the possibility of seeing Joel being collared by another woman, though, she doubted the chances of him ever to be hers after her little stunt that landed him at that slave camp. Even if he did show up, she doubted he would recognize her.

She felt a tear slip down her cheek. She had wasted her chance. The chance for him to be hers. He could've collared him in private; it wasn't against the rules, but she wasn't ready back then. But now that she missed feeling the need to caress him, care for him, and maintain the ability to top him was a misery to her. She blew it, and she knew it.

*************************************

Lunch had been served and all the slaves including Joel were eating in the main lunch hall. Joel slowly shuffles his way to his mates, eventually getting close enough to be able to whisper to them.

"So Joel, how have you been?" Jonathan asked.

He scratches his head, "Um... I guess I'm fine."

"You know guys, The Placement is coming up soon," interrupts Jay.

"The Place-what?" Joel stammers.

"You don't know what The Placement is?!" Jay and Jonathan answered in unison.

He shakes his head.

Jay's face turns serious again, "The Placement happens every 6 months where the best slaves go to a Manor and present themselves to a bunch of dommes. If a mistress is chosen for you, then you get collared and shit. Everyone wants to get the chance to go there, Joel. Maybe your... "

"My Mistress? You think she's gonna be there?" Joel answered.

"Maybe, who knows," Jonathan replied.

His thoughts were spinning. There was a chance for him. If only he could be chosen to go to The Placement. His hand went to his neck, feeling for the metal on his collar. That metal stripe had to have meaning.

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Thank you for Reading! This is a parallel story to my previous publications, and confusions from the last series will start to clear up.