Rags to Servitude

He was practically nothing. He lived on the streets for the past three months. Every night he spent chittering in the cold and was unable to care for himself due to his financial problems. His parents had died in a car crash and his grandparents were both deceased. His uncles and aunts lived too far away from him. So every night since then, the streets had been his home.

Then one night, he found him.

On the street one night, Dustin was wearing a burgundy hoodie, ripped jeans, white socks, and black Nike shoes. The young adult was on the verge of freezing, sitting on a corner, outside a 7/11 store for the night. Not that this was new to him.

He sat there, hoping to warm himself but he could not. Shivers on shivers, Dustin couldn't even fall asleep for the night. With his hoodie covering his dirty blonde hair, he struggled to keep his brown eyes shut. He waited for a sign or perhaps he would have drifted off into sleep like usual.

Dustin, on the verge of dozing off, then saw a black minivan. The van stopped before him and a cloaked individual exited the car. The individual approached Dustin, who was wondering what they would want with him. Immediately, he was given an offer.

An offer of a lifetime.

The cloaked individual said the following, "You look too handsome to be out here. Why don't you come with me and I can make you into a successful person."

Dustin had to think for a while. The chance seemed like he could get out of this horrid lifestyle and back on his feet for the time being. But part of him made him hesitant on that offer, sounding too good to be true.

And then he made his choice.

He accepted.

The cloaked person helped Dustin to his feet and let him enter the van. On the ride to wherever, Dustin didn't speak a word.

Soon the homeless male came across the spectacle: a three story mansion. Dustin nearly dropped his jaw at the scene as the gates opened and the van drove inside. By the time the gates shut, Dustin was at the door.

The cloaked figure escorted Dustin out, nice and slow before the door was opened by an impeccable butler. The cloaked figure revealed himself as a man around his early-forties. He has brown hair and faint traces of a mustache while his eyes are amber.

"Where are my manners?" he joked before introducing himself, "My name is Mr. Avington."

"I am Dustin." The homeless teenager greeted.

"Well, Dustin," Mr. Avington said, "I hope you can make yourself at home."

Dustin nodded before asking, "So, where can I sleep?"

"There is a bedroom on the second floor. Just go up the stairs, fourth door on the left. Use the shower to your content. And help yourself to the closet."

Dustin thanked Mr. Avington for his hospitality and headed up the stairs, following the directions. Once the former homeless man left, Mr. Avington couldn't help but muse to himself.

"A polite boy. And a cute one at that. Such a rare combination. *Sigh* It almost doesn't make me have to sell him..."

But now, Mr. Avington decided to retire for the night.

Dustin, for the first time in a long time, felt himself in heaven. The bathroom was luxurious. So shiny and spotless to Dustin. He discarded his clothes and got into the shower. Feeling the hot running water on his skin, shampoo for his hair, and toiletries to freshen himself, Dustin hoped he could stay here indefinitely to enjoy this.

After the refreshing shower, Dustin came out of the bathroom and walked into the bedroom, which was connected to the bathroom.

It was an enormous bedroom with a walk-in closet. The dresser was carved from mahogany wood from what he could deduce and the bed looked as if it could fit nine other people. The comforter was decorated with regal golden patterns and the mattress was soft. Like deluxe-level softness.

If he didn't know any better, Dustin would have presumed this was prep in advance for a guest. But perhaps, Mr. Avington always had this place tidy for anyone coming over. Even a complete stranger.

But he was much too happy for indoor plumbing, a shower, and a comfortable bedroom to care about how or why.

Dustin dressed himself in some sleepwear he was provided with: satin silk black short sleeve shirt and shorts. And that night, Dustin had the best sleep for months.

When morning came around, Dustin didn't want to get up. He wanted to stay in bed, perhaps lay there for the rest of the day. He didn't exactly have a job despite needing one. He had been lucky that the 7/11 employees were nice enough to provide him free food.

Unfortunately, slurpees start to lose their touch after two weeks.

Knocks on the door managed to stir the 'guest' who answered, "Who is it?"

"It's Mr. Avington."

"You can come in." Dustin answered.

The door opened to reveal the homeowner. For the morning, Mr. Avington had dressed formally. He had on a light blue dress shirt that was covered by his solid maroon sweater vest. A clear well-done Windsor knot of a black tie was around the collar. Gray trousers draped his bottom half and with a small break, you could the black dress socks in the brown tassel loafers.

Dustin stared for a few seconds, thinking how the older gentleman looked so... handsome before working up the courage to say something, "So... Um... you look nice this morning."

Mr. Avington chuckled to himself. 'So young and so flustered.' He mused to himself before answering verbal. "Yes, my entire wardrobe is dedicated to formal fashion. I never leave my mansion without looking my best."

Dustin felt compelled to ask another question. "But do you ever get... looks? Like even in the smallest instances?"

The older gentleman nodded. "Yes. No one really questions it, though. They presume I just come from a job where professional attire or the change of season. I also happen to get compliments when I do."

Dustin understood what he meant. He could see that happening to Mr. Avington.

The older gentleman clapped his hands together. "Well, I do not wish to keep from breakfast. Care to join?"

Dustin happily nodded, feeling his stomach slightly growl at the moment. He went to get out of bed and Mr. Avington opened the walk-in closet.

"Mr. Avington?" Dustin questioned and walked over to the homeowner.

"It's nothing, dear boy." The dapper man dismissed, "Just... picking out your clothing for the day."

"Couldn't I... do that myself?" Dustin phrased. He was a bit curious why Mr. Avington was picking out his clothing.

"Well, to be fair, it's really all formalwear. Do you know the basics?"

"By basics, you are referring to..."

"Well, shirts, matching colors, belts, ties, socks, and shoes."

Dustin was silent before reluctantly admitting. "Not really."

Mr. Avington gave a faint nod and pulled out his chosen clothes. "It is alright, dear boy. I told you I can make you a successful person. First things first, you have to dress the part."

Mr. Avington pulled out the following: a clean pristine white dress shirt, tan khakis, a pair of white briefs, a pair of blue argyle dress socks, an ebony black belt, and a pair of black oxfords.

Dustin looked at his chosen clothes before looking at Mr. Avington. The dapper gentleman gestured for him to put the outfit on which made the dirty blonde ask the next question.

"You want me to change in front of you?"

"Well, I have to see how it looks on you. Make sure it fits properly."

Dustin felt oddly concerned but still compelled to be nice. After all, Mr. Avington was kind enough to let him stay the night.

The homeless boy started to undress, even to the point he was nude. Dustin showed his manhood, something that Mr. Avington secretly nodded at.

Dustin started off with his new briefs, which were snug around his manhood. With a brief flap, the former homeless boy enjoyed the clean underwear on his hips.

Next were the socks, the blue argyle dress socks reaching his thighs. Buttoning up, the white dress shirt fit him just as well before the tan khakis slid up to his waist. Tucking in the shirt with the pants, he wrapped the ebony belt around himself and it was the perfect length. Lastly were the oxfords, which fit like everything else.

After the outfit was on, Mr. Avington presented a black-white striped tie.

Dustin took a moment to admire it before admitting, "I'm afraid I don't know how to tie."

Unfazed, Mr. Avington simply responded with, "Then I shall tie it. Just this once though." The older gentleman successfully tied Dustin's with a sophisticated Windsor knot. "Take a look at yourself."

Dustin found himself in a full-length mirror. The clothes and accessories on him... it made him... irresistible. Handsome. Dapper. So many synonyms to describe himself.

Mr. Avington had a mental smile at the sight of Dustin admiring his outfit. He cleared his throat which snapped Dustin out of his formal admiration. "I believe breakfast is afoot?"

Dustin nodded and the two fancy men walked to the dining room.

Breakfast was divine to Dustin, eating as much as he could since he didn't have much to eat for the past three months. He tried to portray proper etiquette but his hunger was rather untamed for the time being.

Mr. Avington watched his guest, shaking his head playfully at the sight. He couldn't blame the boy. After all, the streets are not always kind.

It was then the older gentleman spoke, "You know, I meant what I said before. About being successful."

Dustin halted the fork inches from his mouth, "How so?"

"Well, in order to be successful, you have to look successful."

Dustin mauled that ideal over. It made sense. His dad always told him, dress for the part you want.

Dustin really had nothing better to do. He had taken a brief break from college, dealing with his parents' passing, and with his family far away at the moment, perhaps Mr. Avington could impart some sartorial tips. Plus the older gentleman did say he could make him successful.

"So, what do you said to my proposal?" Mr. Avington said as he sipped some mimosa.

After a few minutes of contemplating, Dustin came to a decision, "I would like that."

Mr. Avington nodded, "Excellent. From now on, you will refer to me as 'Sir.'"

"Really?"

"Really, what?"

Dustin was taken aback by the emphasis and decided to just roll with it for now. "I apologize. I understand... Sir."

"That's good, boy." Mr. Avington said while internally thinking.

'And the programming has begun.'

The first week involved learning the basics of formal attire. It started with Dustin being nude in front of Mr. Avington. It took a few days to the point where Dustin felt comfortable enough to strip in front of Mr. Avington.

During this time, Mr. Avington discussed how suits, tuxedos, and other formal attire should be worn. The older gentleman explained how dress shirts, trousers, socks, and shoes should also be worn and matched to make the proper stylish appearance.

The second week involved learning how to tie ties. Dustin fumbled about at first but soon picked up how to tie efficiently, something that Mr. Avington adored.

The third week was about etiquette. Dustin had taken a few courses during his time in college, however he didn't pay too much attention. With Mr. Avington though, Dustin shortly learned to act the part while looking the part.

During the next four months, Dustin was properly educated in the art of sartorial. Mr. Avington also groomed him, using hair and facial products to make him more extravagant, and taught him some formal activities such as waltzing or playing the piano. Dustin had come to terms about the formal lifestyle, embracing it fully. He no longer felt awkward about wearing them everyday, rather...

It felt right for him. Like a role he should have been apart of for so long.

At end of the fourth month, Dustin and Mr. Avington were sitting at the dining table.

Dustin was dressed in a ravishing charcoal 3-piece suit. His double breasted dark jacket and waistcoat obscured the gray patterned tie and white dress shirt. His charcoal slacks with a black belt reached down to the point there was a break to see his black dress socks in his black oxfords. In his pocket, he had a white satin pocket square.

Mr. Avington, on the other hand, had a typical 2 piece navy suit. With his single breasted navy jacket, his white dress shirt and burgundy tie brought his outfit together. The navy slacks were fitted with a brown belt to match his brown wingtips, keeping his tan dress socks hidden. With a golden trimmed pocket square, Mr. Avington -to no surprise- was put together. Politely wiping his mouth, his amber eyes landed on Dustin.

The older gentleman watched as his mentee precisely cut his steak in half before continuing to cut them into smaller pieces. What Dustin didn't know was the inner turmoil Mr. Avington was dealing with.

From the moment he laid on eyes on him on the street, Mr. Avington found Dustin irresistible. He knew his colleagues would definitely have the time of their life with Dustin, but he wanted him to himself. He had never come across a boy he wanted to keep and it pained him to see him go.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Mr. Avington decided to address his boy, "Boy, I have some news."

Dustin stopped his cutting and wiped his hands digiantly on his napkins before politely asking, "What is it, Sir?"

Mr. Avington shook his delusions out of his head, "There is a black tie event next week. My colleagues and I are hosting and I would like you to join us."

Dustin nodded his head, "Of course, Sir. I would enjoy such an event, Sir."

Mr. Avington nodded before drinking some red wine and Dustin went back to eating. Seeing his protege devour the steak the way he taught him, Avington's heart began to sway.

Between keeping him... or selling him.

One week later, the 'black tie event' was among them.

Dustin exited the shower, freshening himself up for the event. Cleaning himself with his towel, he ruffled his hair slightly before leaving the bathroom.

Having ironed his tuxedo shirt and setting out the specific clothes ahead of time, Dustin started the correct way with a pair of white briefs before his sheer socks.

Stretching them up to his calf, Dustin's next item was his tuxedo shirt. He carefully buttoned up the onyx studs, remembering what his 'Sir' had informed him. After that, he placed his tuxedo slacks on, he could tell since they had a satin line along them. Next, Dustin decided to wear a pair of braces to help keep the slacks up and a black cummerbund. Then, he tied his own black bow tie -another lesson- and made sure it was snug around his neck. Afterwards, Dustin placed his sheer sock covered into his polished pair of black opera pumps. After his footwear, the brunette placed onyx cufflinks into his french cuffs. And finally, he applied the finishing touch: his jet-black tuxedo jacket. Dustin folded a red pocket square for some detail.

After putting on his tuxedo jacket, Dustin looked at the full length mirror and was reminded of his 'training.' Feeling the smooth fabric of the jacket on his body made him aroused, a feeling he never fully discussed with Mr. Avington as he didn't want to make him feel awkward. A small tent occurred at a lustful thought but he shook his head to be rid of it. His mindset returned to the task at hand as he greased and combed his hair, allowing his hair to shine and looked presentable. After that, Dustin left his room and went downstairs, his shoes making clicks against the hardwood.

As Dustin went down the stairs, his brown eyes landed on Mr. Avington...

Who took his breath away.

Avington, despite every single day these past 4 months, was simply breathtaking. His attire was pure-white dinner jacket. His satin black lapels and ebony black bow tie added contrast between the dinner jacket. Dustin made out a black pocket square and a black waistcoat on his undefiled tuxedo shirt with onyx studs. Silver cufflinks were on his French cuffs much like Dustin's. His slacks were the same shade of his bow tie and down to the break, he had the same sheers and shiny black patent leather dress shoes.

Dustin's lustful thought returned and his bulge erected itself before the mentee tried to calm himself. He doubt Mr. Avington indulges in such desires but resumed his descent and approached

Mr. Avington was idly checking his watch when Dustin cleared his throat. The older gentleman looked flabbergasted before patting his mentee on the shoulder. "You look exquisite, boy."

Dustin's cheeks became red before he managed to response, "T-Thank you, Sir. I own it all to you. You and your guidance have been really helpful for me, Sir."

It was Mr. Avington's turn to blush at the praise. He really did help Dustin become who he is now and it pained him to take to this event.

Knowing it is a possibility to lose him forever.

Steeling up his nerves and pushing his thoughts deep into his subconscious, Mr. Avington gestured to their ride outside. "Are you ready, boy?"

"Yes, Sir."

The two tuxedo dressed gentlemen left for the 'black tie' event.

They took a limo to their location, Mr. Avington flinching every single second of the ride as they arrived. The location was a small warehouse with a backroom and Dustin ignored the sight, thinking that

The driver came to a halt which allowed Mr. Avington to say, "This is where you get out."

Dustin was confused by what he meant. "Pardon, Sir?"

"Do not worry about me, boy." Mr. Avington waved off, keeping the despair out of his voice. "I shall join you shortly. I plan to meet up with some of my colleagues first."

Dustin couldn't help to have a suspicious feeling that Mr. Avington was hiding something. But he shrugged it off for a time being and exited the limo. Dustin straightened his jacket, buttoning it before walking in. Mr. Avington watched his boy leave and wiped a single tear from his eye with his pocket square.

Entering a side door, Dustin walked into a dark room, wondering where the event was.

"Hello?" He called in the darkness. He began to feel like Mr. Avington and his colleagues were playing a prank on him, which slightly infuriated the mentee. He prepared to leave when he felt someone grab him.

"Let me go-" He didn't finish his sentence as he was chloroformed and slipped into unconsciousness.

"Wake up."

Dustin's brown eyes groggily managed to regain their sight and saw a man in front of him. He was dressed in a black suit with a white dress shirt and black half-windsor knot tie. On the wrist was a brown leather watch. The man's slacks were black as well and had a belt on. His dress socks were gold-toes and he had on black wingtips.

Dustin began shaking his head and looked side-to-side. His eyes saw other men -around his age from mid twenties to early thirties it looked like- dressed in tuxedos as well. He counted up to 23, and counting him was 24.

"What's going on?" Dustin questioned and was met with a hard slap to his cheek. He went to rub it but found he was wrist were bounded.

"It's not your turn yet." The man spat and walked off, no doubt to wake another one unconscious man.

Dustin's heart began to beat fast as he was abducted. His mind began to worry at an alarming rate and tried to calm the nerves. He was wondering how and why this was happening.

"Alright, listen up!" The man in the black suit barked and those awake turned to attention. "You have all been trained to behave like good subs. Is that correct?"

'A sub?' Dustin thought but nodded his head to blend in with the crowd.

The man had a predatory smile, "Good boys. It seems your Sirs have taught you well. The auction begins in 30 minutes. Don't try to know one another until then. I doubt you'll see each other again."

Dustin's heart stopped. Was... was this what Mr. Avington meant by make him successfully? It was all a ploy. A ploy that Dustin believed.