Chapter V – A New Master

It wasn't Sánchez who pushed him to the next step. It was Gustavo who, with his body and his gaze, offered himself as what he already was.

During a weekend at the country house, Sánchez organized a larger gathering. Older men, with money and refined, deeply sadistic tastes. The house smelled of wood, leather, recent sex, and something metallic. Vince had already been shown and used in front of everyone, on his knees, open, silent, and marked. When Gustavo's turn came, Sánchez had him enter the main hall naked, with the black leather collar tightly fastened, his ass still open, shiny and dripping from recent use, and his buttocks covered with marks from the day before.

"This is Gustavo," he introduced in a calm, clear voice. "Twenty-five years old. A trainer's body. He's still learning, but he already understands his place. He's available tonight and for as many nights as needed."

The men inspected him with professional, lewd calm. They opened his mouth with their fingers, spread his buttocks, touched his muscles with expert, cold hands, squeezed his nipples until he let out a whimper. Gustavo remained on his knees, breathing slowly, feeling fear and excitement melt into a single hot, shameful thing. He listened to them negotiating in low, graphic voices. How they put a price on his obedience, on his ability to suffer in silence, on his well-trained body already marked by use.

One of them, with a deep voice, large calloused hands, and a cold gaze, was immediately interested. They spoke for several minutes. When the deal was closed, Sánchez crouched in front of Gustavo and lifted his face with two firm fingers under his chin, forcing him to look at the new temporary owner.

"From now on you have a new master for tonight and for however many nights he wants. I taught you what you are. He's going to use you however he pleases. Do you understand?"

Gustavo swallowed. His heart beat hard against his ribs. He looked at Sánchez one last time and then lowered his gaze to the man who now possessed him by right of agreement.

"Yes, master," he answered in a clear voice, though it trembled a little. "I am his too tonight."

And for the first time, the word did not sound like only defeat to him. It sounded like a dirty, final destiny. Like a path that, though dark and painful, finally had a clear shape.

The new master put a hand on the back of his neck, firmly, almost painfully, and made him stand up. Gustavo obeyed without hesitation. Behind him, Sánchez smiled with the stillness of someone who has finished a stage of a work he had been building for a long time with patience and cruelty.