Kurt finished packing and tipped a bellboy to start toting his clothing boxes down to the Hummel Designs van parked out in front of the hotel. He had finished checking out and was waiting for the hotel manager to meet with him.

"Mr. Hummel," a middle aged, average looking man wearing an off-the-rack suit called out as he walked over. "I apologize for taking so long, how can I help you?"

Kurt smiled politely. "Thank you for taking the time. I wanted to discuss one of the hotel slaves. Blaine."
----------------------

Blaine made his way back to the old, ill-kept rear of the hotel, dubbed The Stable by the staff, where the service slaved were housed. Two old hotel rooms had been fitted with cots, one room for the males and one for the females. There were 20 slaves currently residing there, eight of them men. Blaine was the only gay male in the group, an aberration the purchasing manager had regretted as soon as shed figured it out. Straight men tended to be more versatile. Anyone could learn to give a blow job or bend over and spread.

When Blaine had first started being called by women he found he sometimes had difficulty satisfying some of their desires and was sent away, only to be harshly punished for failing. Shockingly, shaming experiences followed by a lashing and starvation didnt help him do better in the future. He just became too nervous to perform and the experience would be horrifyingly repeated.

After several such occurrences, a caveat was placed by his name on the service slave menu explaining his limitations and his calls dropped drastically. Hed gone nearly two weeks without eating at one point, when Santana had found him nearly passed out by a cot. Shed announced that she had always wanted a puppy and he was such a cute little poodle. Shed given him one of her food tokens and in all likelihood saved his life. That was the first of many times the crazy Latina had looked after Blaine.

Blaine skipped past the mens area, heading directly to the womens room, smiling and greeting people as he passed. Apparently, womens love of gay men extended to other slaves for hed always found a warm reception among the ladies. Maybe it was because he was absolutely nonthreatening. Santana was sitting on her cot, icing a broken nose. Both eyes were badly bruised and Blaine knew the injuries didnt stop at her face. He schooled his features, knowing hed get his ass handed to him if Santana caught sympathy or perceived pity on his face.  "Hey, Satan," he called cheerfully as he sat beside her.

"Oh God, the puppys here. Why are you so damn cheerful, Hobbitling?" She asked in an unusually nasal tone.

"I had a good night," Blaine replied simply. He pressed a food token into the hand not holding the ice pack. "Breakfast is on me," he murmured. Santanas eyes flashed with pride but before she could refuse or bitch him out, Blaine pushed the icepack further against her nose.  "I owe you much, much more than this," he told her firmly, "Plus, I have two more just like it."

Santana raised an eyebrow at him over the cloth. "You pulled an all nighter? Look at you, rocking that fine ass." Her tone changed, becoming serious.  "Are you okay, Blaine?"  She knew better then any what a mixed blessing an overnight stay could become. 

Before Blaine could answer, he was yanked to his feet by one of the wranglers, a small cardboard box thrust into his arms.

"There you are. Shoulda looked in the girls room right off, I suppose. Put any stuff youve stashed that no one else can use in the box and go to the lobby," Blaine was ordered gruffly.

"Sir?" Blaine asked, nervous and confused as he attempted to maintain his footing as he was roughly propelled forward. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Dont know, dont care," the wrangler responded in annoyance. "All I was told was you dont belong to the hotel anymore. Just as well, we barely made enough profit off you to bother with, anyway. Off you go!"

Blaine walked to the mens room, kneeling by his cot in a daze. He put his alternate uniform in the box, a blanket hed recovered from the trash as well as a few odds and ends hed collected over his 2 years at the hotel.

Santana limped over next to him. Blaine set his box down and hugged her as hard as he dared with her cracked ribs. He had no idea where he was going but he knew hed miss her more than anything.

Santana hugged back fiercely and ran a hand through his curls.  "Be strong, Poodle-head," she ordered him.  "Be smart, stay alive, and dont be afraid to bite anyones ankles if you need to." 

Blaine laughed, a few stray tears leaking down his face. He hugged her again, before seeing the handler heading towards them with an angry expression and one of the leather discipline belts in his hand. Blaine hastily lifted his box and slipped his remaining two tokens into Santanas palm. He ducked away before falling within striking range of the belt, and made his way to the hotel lobby.

Blaine wasnt sure what he was supposed to do when he arrived, but he was pleasantly surprised to see Kurt standing next to a wheeled rack lined with several outfits. Blaine fondly remembered wearing most of them the night prior. Kurts head was down, eyes glued to his phone. Seeing as he had literally nothing else to do, Blaine made his way over to the beautiful designer.

"Hello, Kurt," he said shyly.

"Blaine!" Kurt responded eagerly, smiling brightly. A moment later a hotel manager walked up to them. Blaine paled and tried to step away but froze when the man glared at him.

"Here you are, Mr. Hummel," the manager said politely, handing Kurt a folder. "Original paperwork, certificate with formal transfer of ownership, and receipt of payment. That one is all yours. I do need to remind you that there are no refunds."

"Not an issue," Kurt said dismissively.  "Thank you for your assistance in this matter."

The manager shook hands firmly with Kurt before turning and frowning at Blaine.

"Behave yourself!" He ordered sternly.  "Try not to embarrass the hotel."  With a final polite nod to Kurt, he headed back behind the concierge desk.

Kurt watched Blaine hopefully, a cautious smile on his face.  "So, this is okay with you?"

Realization crashed as Blaines brain finally interpreted what he had just seen.
"You bought me?" 

"Kinda, yeah. After you left this morning I got to thinking. Honestly, youre more than attractive enough to be a model and with a few modifications a lot of those outfits could look like I designed them for you. I was more than able to pay off the hotel with the returned deposit and break of contract fine from Tobias. It made sense."  Kurt shrugged.

"I figured I could sink the money into a new contract with someone I didnt really know or I could get you. You said you hated it here so I thought we could try this and see if its a match."

Blaine stood, frozen. He was leaving the hotel. He belonged to Kurt. Barely a blink since hed left Kurts room and his entire life had changed. For a brief second, sheer relief overwhelmed the slave; he was getting the hell away from the hotel. And hed be going with the beautiful man who had so charmed him the night before.

Then the cold reality of his new situation sank in. He remembered with horror how hed just strolled over and greeted Kurt. Hed used his name. Blaine turned fearful eyes to Kurt, wondering if he should kneel. Remembering that Kurt hadnt wanted him to previously, he stayed upright with effort.  "Im so sorry for my disrespectful behavior, Master. I promise Ill do better," Blaine told him frantically, hunching in anticipation of pain.

Kurt sighed. Apparently Blaine wasnt okay with it.