Chapter 43

He opened his eyes groggily, his lids glued shut from his dried tears, as the trunk flipped open and daylight flooded in. How long had he been in here?

He didn't have time to speculate before the sack was shoved back over his head and he was dragged somewhere else. His feet scrabbled against gravel for a few seconds before a door creaked and he was pulled across what felt like hardwood or linoleum flooring. He stumbled over his feet and almost fell, only to be yelled at and thrown to the ground. He was kicked once before another voice interrupted them. He struggled to hear what they were saying.

"...specialty order! If we lose money because of you I swear to god-"

"What the fuck's so special about him?"

"An extra two grand just for feeding him and not marking him too much, that's what's special you imbecile. Now take him up to Room Sixteen."

"Not the basement?"

"No, not the fucking basement!" there was the sound of someone getting hit before Kurt was pulled to his feet again, not as roughly as before but still enough to bruise his delicate skin.

The bag was yanked off and he was tossed face down onto a bed before he could take in his surroundings. Something was locked around his upper arm before his wrists were released. He scrambled away as soon as he was able, falling off the bed and huddling into a corner.

Two men, one in grease stained jeans and a wife-beater, the other in dress pants and what appeared to be a blue silk shirt stared at him. He stared back, unwilling to look away. The one in the silk shirt stepped around the bed and closer to him. Kurt cowered back further into the corner and began babbling before he could stop himself, the words spilling unchecked from his lips.

"You can't do this; you have to let me go. I'm claimed. I have a Dom, his name's Blaine, he'll be really mad at you for taking me. Let me go home, please, just let me go home." He rambled, finally stopping himself by biting down hard on his fist.

"Whoa whoa whoa." The man in front of him held up his hands in defense. "Relax Kurt."

"How do you know my name?" Kurt demanded, unable to stop himself. The man crouched in front of him and smiled in a caring way. Or at least, that's what he tried to make it look like. Kurt knew people could say one thing and do something completely different.

"I know a lot about you Kurt. I know you secretly love working on cars even if you complain about the mess. I know your favorite colour is red. I know you love musicals, but your favorite is Sound of Music for which you were named. And I also know that you are no good in a fight. Which is why you're going to listen to me very carefully and do everything you're told. Understood?" he continued to smile through his little speech, only serving to make Kurt more nervous.

"Y-y-yes s-sir." He finally managed to force out, hoping that his shaking wasn't as obvious to them as it was to him.

"No need to be so formal." The man chuckled. He actually was laughing, while Kurt continued to have a miniature heart attack. "My name is Jerome. Now, do you know where you are?"

"The… the b-Black Market." Kurt managed to choke, keeping his eyes down and refusing to look up.

"Good boy. Now your new master won't be here for another few days. As per his instructions, you'll still be fed and have access to a bathroom. Consider yourself lucky. That's a hell of a lot more than most get around here."

"Wha-what did you put on my arm? Why am I here? I already have a Master!" Kurt snapped his jaw shut before the word vomit could continue.

"We know you have a Dominant. But our client paid us quiet a handsome sum for you specifically. Not that I can blame him." Jerome ran the back of his fingers down Kurt's cheek. The brunette flinched violently. "You'll be held here until we get our money. This," he tapped the band around Kurt's arm. "Is to make sure you don't go running off. You're free to wonder the house as you please, but should you go past the doors it will shock you. It won't be enough to kill or harm you obviously, just enough to knock you out. Any questions?"

"Who… w-who did all this? Who are you giving me to?" Kurt managed to whisper. He didn't want to know, yet somehow he had to know.

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to tell you that." Jerome smiled. When Kurt stayed silent, the two got up and left.

He stayed on the floor for hours, not moving. It didn't matter that his stomach was growling painfully, he wouldn't go out there. He finally fell down at around eleven at night, according to the clock on the wall, passing out from exhaustion.