Author’s note: I know, I know. It took me long enough to post this chapter. But between me writing my first book and Captain Pihkal’s important interviews, we’re two busy girls right now, you know? So please forgive us, dear readers :)

I’d love to promise the next chapters will come much faster, but all I can promise with certainty is that I will try, and that this story will definitely get finished.

I hope you enjoy :)

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CHAPTER 17

“It’s high time we went and bought some proper clothes for Blaine,” Kurt announced over breakfast on the last Saturday of January. “We’re invited over to Jeff and Nick’s next weekend, and there’s no way I’ll have Blaine visit anyone in oversized hand-me-downs. Anyone wants to come with?”

Predictably, no one did, so it was just Kurt and Blaine that got into the car an hour later and started towards the Lima Mall.

Truth be told, the hand-me-downs weren’t even that oversized anymore. Blaine had filled out nicely since November, and though he was still on the thin side, it looked like Kurt’s old clothes would be just the right size for him soon. They would never be quite the right fit, though – Blaine’s build was different from his – and Kurt couldn’t wait to put him in nice new clothes bought specifically for him. He had plenty of ideas for both colors and styles to try.

He was excited for the upcoming visit, too. Ever since his New Year’s Eve revelation, Kurt felt like his attraction towards Blaine was growing stronger every day, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He certainly didn’t feel ready to reveal it to anyone, especially Blaine. But every time Blaine smiled at him happily, or said “Yes, Kurt” in that sweet, reverent way of his, or even just looked up at him with eyes so wide and earnest, Kurt’s heart felt like it was close to overflowing with feelings, and surely someone was bound to notice soon. Considering how much time they were spending together, there was a risk that someone would be Blaine himself.

Kurt had to talk to Jeff. Jeff had been though this, so he’d know what to do. Next Sunday couldn’t come soon enough. Until then, Kurt needed distractions, and shopping for clothes was bound to be one of the best there was.

Or so he thought – up until the moment Blaine stepped out of the changing room in the first of several outfits Kurt had chosen for him to try on, and Kurt’s jaw, quite literally, dropped.

Blaine looked fantastic in slim jeans and a simple, well-fitted polo shirt. His hair had been styled with a little product before they left, his bowtie collar sat snug and elegant around his neck, and he didn’t look like a slave at all – just like a regular teenage boy, stunning with his bright eyes and a shy smile; a boy that Kurt would love to ask out on a date if he dared, and hold his hand, and kiss him goodnight.

Oh boy. This day was going to be torture.

Kurt cleared his throat. “Okay, the pants are perfect, we’re taking them. The shirt is a maybe. Show me the red one next, please.”

“Yes, Kurt,” Blaine said sweetly and smiled his beautiful smile, looking up at him from beneath his long lashes. “I’m sorry I’m taking so long and wasting your time on waiting,” he added before disappearing behind the changing room curtain.

In the end, they didn’t buy too much. Kurt loved a lot of what Blaine modeled for him, but he suppressed the urge to purchase everything and chose only the best instead. Blaine would need spring clothes soon enough, probably in a bigger size, too, so Kurt decided to save a good chunk of what he’d received for Blaine’s clothes from his dad for then. Right now, a couple of nice basic shirts and pants, and a pair of good quality shoes would suffice.

The main goal of their trip achieved, Kurt considered visiting a few more stores to look for some new additions to his own wardrobe. But first, a short break was in order. He was getting hungry and Blaine looked tired, though happy. A quick lunch at Subway sounded like a great idea.

Judging by how crowded the food court was, it looked like half the town’s population decided to spend the cold, snowy day shopping. Blaine kept close to Kurt’s side as they navigated among the tables and people, but it wasn’t until they got to the slightly quieter corner where Subway was that Kurt noticed how tightly Blaine was clutching the handles of the bags he carried.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

Blaine shook his head, his eyes set down. “I’m sorry, Master. It’s just a lot of people in one place.”

Suddenly, Kurt realized. “Oh, I didn’t think, you’re not used to malls at all, are you? I’m sorry, Blaine. Does it remind you of the market? Do you need to leave? We can leave,” he said.

“No, no. It’s nothing like the market, Master. I just got startled. I’m sorry, I’ll be fine.” He still wasn’t looking up though, and that worried Kurt. That, and something else.

“Hey, we agreed you’re not calling me Master, remember? Just Kurt is fine.”

Blaine finally looked at him, his eyes wide and earnest. “Oh, but I have to, Master. We’re in public. It would be disrespectful if I called you by your given name for people to hear.”

Kurt wanted to say that he didn’t give a damn what other people thought of him – he’d long learned not to care – but the concern in Blaine’s voice stopped him. This was Blaine’s way of looking out for him, in the only way he knew how – by being the best slave he could be, for everyone to see.

“Okay then,” Kurt said. “Thank you, Blaine. Just please call me Kurt when we’re not in public anymore, okay?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Okay. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Do you want me to go save a table for you, Master?”

Kurt frowned. “What? No, Blaine, you have to pick your sandwich.”

“But… you want me to eat here, too?”

“Of course. It’s lunch time.”

“But Master, eating here will cost you money, and you have already spent so much more on me than what I am worth.” Blaine looked distressed. “I don’t need to eat lunch, Master.”

Kurt sighed. Would Blaine ever let go of the notion he was worthless? Considering how long he’d had that drilled into his head, it was definitely going to be a challenge.

“No, Blaine,” he said patiently. “Of course you need to eat, you’re still so thin. And you deserve food and clothes and everything. You’re a human being. And I care about you. So please, come and choose what you would like to eat.”

Eyes down again, Blaine said softly, “Yes, Master. Thank you, Master.”

He seemed overwhelmed by the amount of options, but with Kurt’s guidance and commentary, he finally relaxed a little and ordered a sub for himself. The tray with their food and drinks in hand, Kurt led him to a table, where Blaine carefully set the bags on a chair and proceeded to lower himself down onto the little kneeling pillow provided at every table.

“No, Blaine,” Kurt snapped.

“Master?” Blaine sounded scared and Kurt softened his tone immediately.

“I don’t want you kneeling while you eat. I appreciate you being such a perfect slave, but get up and sit on the chair, please. I will never ask you to kneel for me, not ever, do you understand? Not at home and not in public, no matter what other people might think.”

Blaine nodded and obeyed without a word, sitting stiffly at the very edge of his chair, and Kurt hated that he was the one to put this upset look on Blaine’s face and make him uncomfortable. But he couldn’t have him kneel. Just… no. He looked around, hoping to see more slaves sitting at the tables with their owners, to point out to Blaine as a reassurance – they passed some on their way, but to his dismay, now there were none within sight. All those around them who had taken their slaves shopping with them – mostly to carry their bags around, Kurt knew – had them kneeling by their chairs, on the little pillows or even on the bare floor.

Two tables over, behind Blaine’s back, a guy around their own age reigned over a table while two teenage boys in identical navy blazers with red details knelt at his feet, thick black collars around their necks. Kurt sighed. He knew there were people who treated their slaves with respect and care, but the overwhelming majority did not, and it broke his heart. Rachel always claimed that this was what slaves needed, how they were brought up to be treated. And still she wondered why they argued.

Kurt turned to Blaine again, determined to fix the suddenly dampened mood. “Hey, have I told you about the time when Finn and Puck had a bet about who could eat more subs here?”

Blaine shook his head, and Kurt dove into the story that quickly turned into another, and then another. He chose funny, lighthearted memories, and soon Blaine was smiling again, more relaxed by the minute. He even laughed once, a sweet, squeaky sound that went right to Kurt’s heart.

At some point during his silly little storytelling, one of the slaves from the other table – a short, compact boy with a round face – passed by on his way to the counter. As he was returning with a refill of his owner’s drink, he paused in his tracks and stared wide-eyed at Blaine who didn’t even notice, focused on Kurt’s tale. When the slave realized Kurt was looking at him, he set his eyes down immediately, trotting over to his owner’s table.

Kurt frowned. What was that? Did the boy realize Blaine was a slave? Was he shocked that he was sitting at the table and eating with Kurt like an equal? Why would he? It wasn’t unheard of, though definitely frowned upon in some circles. Kurt watched as the boy he carefully set the drink down, then knelt again, but when nothing more happened, he turned his full attention back to his conversation with Blaine.

They were almost done eating when a tall, skinny figure loomed over their table.

“Well well well,” the slave owner from the other table drawled. “If it isn’t my little Blaine. I wouldn’t have recognized you from behind, lounging on a chair like that, if Trent hadn’t told me he saw you – Trent, come here, boy.”

The round-faced boy approached them; as soon as he reached the table, he dropped to his knees on the abandoned kneeling pillow. Blaine let out a strangled little sound.

“Yes, Master?” Trent asked quietly.

“You were right, Trent, it is Blaine. And his new owner, I believe?” He extended his hand to Kurt, who only glared at him. “Sebastian Smythe. I was your slave’s previous owner, wasn’t I, Blaine?”

Blaine opened his mouth and then shut it, frantically looking between Kurt and Sebastian. He was perched at the very edge of the chair again, as if ready to drop down to his knees at a second’s notice.

“You answer when a Master asks you a question, boy,” Sebastian said sternly, and Kurt snapped.

“No, he doesn’t. Not to you.” He turned to Blaine, who was starting to shake in his seat, and spoke softly, “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk to him. You’re here with me, remember? You’re mine.” Then he looked at Sebastian again, crossing his arms. “What do you want?”

“Why, I was just going to say hello to my old slave. Sweet little Blaine with his talented mouth. Don’t you just love his blowjobs? Of course, I was the one who taught him most of what he knows.”

For a moment, Kurt was rendered speechless – which didn’t happen often. A furious blush crept up his face. Sebastian took that time to look Blaine over, his eyes sliding appraisingly up and down his body.

“You should take better care of your slaves, you know,” he said. “He is much too skinny now. Which is a waste. I think he had the most perfect ass of all the slaves I’ve ever had.” He looked at the boy kneeling at his feet. “Yes, even better than you, Trent, don’t look at me like that. You know full well how fuckable Blaine’s bubble butt used to be. Not so much now, I’m afraid. Of course, that’s to be expected if you can only afford a used slave.”

Kurt growled. “I think you should stop talking now and return to your table.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Aw, are you jealous that I had your slave first? Is he remembering me fondly?” He turned to Blaine. “Are you, Blaine? Thinking of all the times I put my cock in your tight little ass and–”

“That’s enough.” Kurt stood up, his chair crashing to the floor with the force of it. To his annoyance, he was a bit shorter than Sebastian, but his glare made up for it. “Blaine, come on. We’re leaving.”

Sebastian’s laughter chased after them as they strode out of the food court.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked as soon as they were out in the parking lot.

Blaine had his head down and his shoulders hunched, which made him look smaller, so unlike the bubbly, smiling boy who had entered the building with Kurt that very morning.

“Yes, Master. I’m sorry, Master,” he said quietly.

“Why would you be sorry? You did nothing wrong.”

“I disgraced you, Master. I wasn’t a good slave and you were shamed for being my owner. Please punish me as you see fit, Master.”

Blaine looked like the only thing keeping him from dropping to his knees was Kurt’s earlier order not to. It had been months since Kurt had last seen him like this, so scared and submissive, and it broke his heart. He put his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, not caring who might see or what they might think.

“Blaine, please look at me.”

The slave obediently raised his head. His golden eyes looked like liquid pools of misery. Kurt gently squeezed his shoulders. “Blaine, have I ever punished you?”

“No, Master.”

“Haven’t I told you that I’m never going to punish you?”

Blaine hesitated. “You did, Ma–“

“Drop the Master,” Kurt interrupted. “There isn’t anyone around, and even if they were, I’m no Master, I’m Kurt. You will never be punished while you’re under my care, Blaine. And I was not ashamed to be there with you. I don’t care what that guy said or thought. You were doing exactly what I asked you to, and I am proud to have such a beautiful, perfect boy with me. I’d like you to remember that, okay?”

Blaine’s lower lip quivered, but his shoulders were straightening under Kurt’s hands. He raised his head a little higher still so that he was standing straight at last.

“Yes, Kurt,” he whispered.

Kurt really wanted to hug him, but they were in public, after all. So he just put his hand on the small of Blaine’s back and led him to the car.

“Do you miss him?” Kurt asked a few days later when he found Blaine staring into space yet again, clearly bothered with something.

Blaine looked up at him, confused. “Who?”

“Your previous owner. Sebastian.” He tried very hard not to spit the name out like something disgusting.

Blaine’s eyes widened. “Oh, no Kurt. How could I miss him when I’m yours now?”

Kurt shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really… experienced or… I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted. “I have no idea if I’m good enough for you at all.”

Blaine got up from the couch he’d been sitting on so that he could look Kurt in the eye – a thing so rare and un-slave-like that it felt all the more significant.

“Kurt,” he said, “You are the best owner I’ve ever had. I never dreamed I could be so happy. Please don’t ever doubt that. Please.”

His eyes were so bright and earnest that Kurt’s throat tightened with emotion. He could only nod wordlessly. It took a long moment before he managed to choke out, “Thank you.”

It was Thursday and Kurt was running a little late. College application deadlines were approaching fast, and he made a stop at Mr. Schuester, Miss Pilsbury, and a few of his teachers’ classrooms after school to gather his recommendation letters.

Blaine wasn’t waiting by the door when Kurt entered, which was a first. He didn’t answer when Kurt called either. Kurt kicked off his boots and haphazardly hung his jacket, in a rush to see if everything was okay.

No one else was home – Kurt’s parents had a date night after work today and wouldn’t be back until late, and Finn had practice. The house was silent, empty in a way it hadn’t been since November, and anxiety started building up in Kurt’s chest. Blaine wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen, and there was no sign of him in his room. Kurt ran up the stairs. Finn’s room was empty, too, and the bathroom door stood open, revealing a dark interior.

With his pulse hammering wildly, Kurt pulled open the door to his room – and froze.

Blaine was kneeling on Kurt’s bed, wearing nothing but a pair of simple black briefs. His head was lowered in what was probably a respectful position – or would be, if he wasn’t so very naked, why was he naked? Kurt squeaked and covered his eyes, but not before he noticed the dusting of dark hair on Blaine’s olive skin, his tiny pink nipples and the goose bumps covering his arms and chest.

“Oh my god, Blaine, what are you doing in here?” he gasped, his eyes firmly squeezed behind his hands, just in case.

“I–” Blaine stuttered, but then bravely pushed on. “Kurt, I… I know that I’m still too thin for your liking and not so appealing, but… Mistress Carole got a call this morning that the new blood tests came back clean and… I’m healthy now, Kurt. I’m not infectious anymore, I can safely service you in any way you want. I… I want to. You’re my Master and I want to repay you for everything you’ve given me.”

Kurt frantically shook his head, eyes still covered. It broke his heart – how could Blaine still think he owed Kurt anything, let alone his body? Why would he feel he needed to do this? Had he somehow noticed Kurt staring at him, daydreaming, and thought it was because of lust?

“No, honey,” Kurt said softly. “Please get dressed. I told you – I don’t need you to repay me – I don’t want you to think you need to. Please. Just get dressed.”

If his hands weren’t still firmly covering his face, he would have seen the way Blaine’s face fell, the heartbroken look in his eyes. But he kept them there to grant Blaine privacy, and it was only when he heard Blaine’s steps descending the stairs that Kurt opened his eyes, closed the door and allowed himself a silent freak-out.