MGemy
Jan. 24, 2013, 2:40 a.m.
Tasting Flight
Tasting Flight: Chapter 1
E - Words: 4,657 - Last Updated: Jan 24, 2013 Story: Complete - Chapters: 12/12 - Created: Dec 17, 2012 - Updated: Jan 24, 2013 3,944 0 10 0 0
“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.” -Leonardo DaVinci
Blaine wakes before the sun rises every morning. As head slave, it’s his duty to wake and prepare the rest of the slave boys before taking one (whoever was ordered the previous night) with him to wake their Master. He pulls the boy aside, stopping him from dressing (clothes aren’t needed), makes sure his hair is fixed and any needed makeup is applied, and guides him to their Master’s bedroom. Generally speaking, the slave boy knows what to expect, and then it’s a simple matter of entering the bedroom as quietly as possible and waiting for the boy to perform his duties while he prepares his Master’s bath.
He stays in the bathroom while the slave boy sucks his Master off, blocking out the noises involved with the ease of practice. But it usually doesn’t take long for Sebastian to finish up and come sauntering into the bathroom, smiling at Blaine standing near the massive bathtub, completely unself-conscious of his nakedness as he slips into the warm water.
From there, it’s a matter of doing what Sebastian says. He’s a busy man--one of the most prestigious slave dealers in the country and the owner of several slave farms--and he needs someone to see to the mundane aspects of his life. So Blaine takes care of the details--what meals he wishes to eat, which slave he would like to pleasure him and when, what paperwork must be done, and what meetings he must attend. Blaine memorizes all of it, standing still beside the bathtub until Sebastian’s ready to get out, at which point he dries his Master and dresses him according to his wishes.
That’s usually the last he has to do with Sebastian until dinnertime. He relays all wishes to the cooks, to Sebastian's clerk, to the house slaves, and then finally to the bed slaves, with whom he spends his days--technically, he is one.
Blaine was born on a slave farm. He has some memories of his mother and an older brother, but the older brother was much older and taken away to another part of the farm for training when Blaine was still a toddler. Slaves born on farms stayed with their mothers until puberty, at which time they’d be apportioned to a training camp on the opposite end of the farm. Some became house slaves, fit for cleaning and cooking and generally overseeing the care of a household. Some became work slaves, who worked in mines and other places where heavy labor was needed. Some became breeders--beautiful women who were somehow unfit for other tasks, and men who were no longer able to work in their respective jobs.
The last of them were the bed slaves. The most beautiful specimens, taken and trained in the art of sex. Blaine had been sent to train as a bed slave just after his thirteenth birthday, selected for his dark curls and wide eyes, his eager disposition and his charming smile. He’d been a handsome boy, and so it wasn’t really any surprise when sixteen-year-old Sebastian, son of the farm’s owner and a well-known dealer, bought him not too long after his fourteenth birthday.
He’s been with Sebastian for ten years, now. It’s been a few years since Sebastian used him regularly for pleasure--he’s past his prime, despite his relative youth. Bed slaves are usually only kept until their twentieth birthday, at which point they’re considered unstylish, but Blaine had been useful to Sebastian. So he’d been kept, to act as Sebastian’s personal slave and to oversee the household. Not that Sebastian doesn’t use him on occasion--he’s still very beautiful, sharper and more angled with maturity, but still with the readiness to please and sweetness of face that got him in this position in the first place.
He’s in a good position; it’s one of respect and power, though not necessarily so bluntly put. He has influence with his Master, and he controls much of the daily goings-on of the house. Not that Blaine ever really takes advantage of that--he’s a kind soul, not given to the politics generally associated with his job. But it makes him good at what he does, and people are eager to please him, so it all falls into place.
It helps with the slave boys. There are usually five of them at any given time, with Blaine as their head, an older brother type. They range from thirteen to nineteen years at any given time, and they’re all beautiful and well-trained. Blaine makes sure of it, and he makes sure of their comfort. Sebastian is, after all, fabulously wealthy, and he likes to spoil those who please him. So life in the harem is luxurious and comfortable, and in return for learning a few bed tricks, it’s not a bad place to be.
Blaine whiles his time away in the harem for most of the day, reading and playing games with the other boys. He likes to sing, and is encouraged to practice so that Sebastian can show him off--he’s still a commodity, after all, and Sebastian likes to entertain guests and rub their faces in his enviable life. He performs at dinnertime, as well, keeping Sebastian entertained with stories and song while Sebastian eats, and he even gets to sample whatever delicacy is on the plate; poison is a common form of political ground-gaining, and Sebastian has the ear of many powerful people. They buy their slaves from him, after all, and he has a lot of favors he can call in. It’s a position a lot of people would literally kill for.
After dinner, Sebastian sends Blaine to fetch a slave to lie with him, and it’s Blaine’s job to make sure the boy prepares himself well enough to avoid injury--an injured slave is a waste of money, and an unprepared slave is a waste of time. But for the most part, the boys know their duties, and they go off to please their Master without complaint.
Nighttime is filled with beauty regimens--the boys are prized possessions and treated as such, so they have a gorgeous bath house all to themselves, with expensive products to keep them soft and pretty. Their beds are comfortable, and wide, and they’re encouraged to share them when they aren’t required by their Master, as long as they don’t mark each other or make it difficult to perform their duties should they be called upon. It keeps them in practice, and happy slaves perform better in bed.
Occasionally, Sebastian does choose a favorite. Blaine himself was in that position years ago; he has ample reason to know that punishment awaits whoever dares touch Sebastian’s favorite toy.
It’s the reason Blaine hasn’t touched another slave. Not since Jeremiah. And his reticence is only strengthened when Sebastian lets him know one morning that they’ll be seeing his associates that day--the men who go out and select slaves from the farms, or purchase them from willing families looking for money.
“I’ll need the paperwork on anyone who’s requested a viewing for slaves, and what kinds they’re looking for,” he says, allowing Blaine to straighten his clothes. “My dealers are bringing in a small group tonight, and whoever I don’t select can be sold off immediately.”
Blaine is careful not to give anything away on his face, but he’s instantly aware of the implications. Thankfully, he’s well-liked enough to be able to ask questions.
“Does this mean you are keeping one of the slaves for yourself, Master?” he asks evenly. Sebastian smirks.
“Yes,” he replies. “I’m in need of someone to replace Chandler.”
“Is Chandler to be sold, Master?” Blaine’s confusion is evident--Chandler was only seventeen, and an eager participant in whatever Sebastian had ordered. He’d been one of Sebastian’s best slaves, and he’d even been called to Sebastian’s bed the night before.
“He’s already been removed from the premises,” Sebastian answers carelessly as Blaine runs a lint roller over the shoulders of his blazer. “And you’ll have to remind the slaves that if they attend one of my parties, they’re to use protection at all times. If I find that another of my slaves contracts a disease again, I’ll have to insist that you check them regularly, and I have better use of my time and money than for testing my slaves.”
“Yes, Master,” Blaine replies, quietly hating his duties for a moment. “I’ll go over proper procedure with the boys again.”
“Good. In the meantime, you have your orders. Bring the paperwork with you to supper--I’ll be viewing the slaves after I eat.”
“Yes, Master.”
The boys are mostly flippant about the news.
“We were kind of expecting it,” Jeff says, after Blaine was done with explaining why Chandler had been removed from the slave quarters that morning.
“Did you know about the STD?” Blaine asks. Jeff immediately shakes his head.
“No! We’d have told you if we did. But I mean...come on, it’s Chandler.”
Blaine knows what he means. Chandler had been eager--maybe a little too eager--and all too prone to forgetfulness in the face of the opportunity to pleasure someone. It had been one of his better qualities and the reason Sebastian had enjoyed him as a slave, but it was one of the firmest rules of the house that if a slave were called upon to please another Master or even another slave, they had to use protection. Chandler had forgotten, and he’d paid the price.
“Well, we’ll have a new member after dinner tonight,” Blaine says. “If one of you could fetch a house slave to clean out his room, I’d appreciate it. And try to be nice--you know Sebastian only buys fresh slaves so he’s bound to be young and scared. I’m looking at you, Jesse.”
Jesse raises and eyebrow and scoffs lightly.
“Me?” he asks, his face totally blank but for a faint smile, his eyes boring into Blaine’s. “I apologize, but if a slave is going to make it in this household, he has to have a thick skin. I’m more than happy to help make sure that the boys are adequately hardened to the--”
“Jesse, you made Jeff cry his first night here,” Nick cut in, a hint of anger coloring his voice. He and Jeff had been involved since the second week of Jeff’s placement in their midst, once it had become clear that Sebastian wasn’t going to make a fuss about either of them. “I don’t think telling a new slave boy that he should get used to pain and telling lies about all the horrible things Sebastian likes is going to harden him. It’s just going to make him not like you.”
Jesse shrugs. “If he can’t take it, he shouldn’t be in the household of a man like Sebastian.”
“Jesse, enough,” Blaine interrupts, grimacing. “Be nice. And to make sure you are I’ll be warning whoever joins us that you’re a pathological liar, so all your fun is already taken out.”
“Fine,” Jesse agrees sullenly. “If that’s how my loyalty and dedication to the perfection of his household are treated, I will make no more efforts.”
“Thank you,” Blaine says simply. He turns to Nick. “Sebastian wants you after lunch, by the way. I’ll grab you around twelve-thirty and get you ready, and then you’ll have to be in his office by one. He wants you waiting under his desk.”
“Of course he does,” Nick complains, rolling his eyes. “And there are probably going to be people in the room again. I hate having to be quiet.”
“I know you do,” Jeff jokes, slapping Nick’s ass playfully as they leave.
Blaine smiles as they leave, glad they’ve found happiness together even in their enslavement. They were both purchases, bought from their homes against their will, and they’d had a tough time when they’d entered the house, Nick three years ago and Jeff only six months ago. They’re both sixteen, and very much in love.
On the other hand, Jesse and Hunter are nasty pieces of work sometimes. Jesse is eighteen, Hunter nineteen, and they’re both farm slaves, trained from an early age to please anybody. Sebastian doesn’t use them much anymore--he mostly keeps Jesse around for the morning ritual, at which he is particularly skilled, and Hunter keeps any women that attend his parties happy, being technically straight and not particularly enthusiastic when serving his Master. But they’re both reaching their peak, and Blaine knows they’re hoping to take his place if they can, before they’re sold. They’re not given to kindness or camaraderie with the other boys--they’re competitors, first and foremost.
Blaine wonders where the new boy will fit in.
The dining room is set up like an ode to ancient hedonism--the main table is low and instead of dining chairs, there’s a long fainting couch set up beside it so that Sebastian can relax while he eats his meal. There are other, smaller couches ready to join that table for private dinners, but usually it’s just Sebastian, with Blaine seated cross-legged on the ground beside him. The remainder of the room has similar tables and couches, ready for parties and gatherings, but they’re pushed aside tonight.
Sebastian finishes his meal and lounges back on the couch, half-sitting against the arm while his long legs stretch out before him. Blaine stays sitting near his feet, perched on a soft cushion, occasionally refilling Sebastian’s wine glass.
“Let them in now,” Sebastian calls.
One of the guards on the room opens the door and calls in Sebastian’s dealers. They’d arrived before dinner had even begun, and Sebastian had kept them waiting. Blaine suspects he takes some delight in provoking others and seeing how far they’ll go, but the dealers enter without any sign that they’re in the least bit vexed by their wait.
“Gentlemen,” Sebastian says genially, smiling at them and sprawling casually out as they come in, several boys in hooded cloaks and chains shuffling in their midst. There are four dealers and eight slaves, and Sebastian raises an eyebrow.
“This is all you have to bring me?” he asks, his voice perfectly polite. Blaine knows the danger behind that and watches the scene carefully.
“The breeders on the farms are turning out more workers and house slaves than bed slaves,” one of them answers. “We can’t help that. Maybe you should select some different breeders.”
“Eight slaves is not acceptable turnout,” Sebastian snaps. “Are there any promising children?”
“A few,” the same replies. “But you should still find different breeders. These just aren’t turning out enough acceptable slaves.”
“Well, I have two slaves nearing the end of their use,” Sebastian says easily. “Handsome, the both of them. If you can promise me that there are acceptable replacements on the way, I’ll hand them off to you to take over from whatever pathetic sires you’ve got on those farms of yours.”
“You can look at what we’ve got tonight,” another dealer says. “If they’re enough for you, we’ll leave them and take your old boys with us. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait a year or two for new boys.”
Sebastian nods. “That’s acceptable. Show me the wares.”
Blaine always hates this part. New slaves are always so terrified--Sebastian doesn’t buy used, and it’s always their first job. Learning how to please someone on a farm is much different than actually having to please them in real life, and so much rides on being acceptable to a new master, especially one as important as Sebastian. He hates watching as they battle with themselves over whether they should be scared of Sebastian or hopeful that he’ll pick them. Despite all the wonderful perks of living like this, Blaine can’t help but feel sick that anyone would choose it. Trapped, caged, pretty porcelain birds on a gilded shelf. And it’s possibly the best life a slave can hope for. Sebastian is a demanding master, but he’s far better than others out there, and slaves have no legal rights to protect them from a master who wants to beat and brutalize them or keep them in actual cages. It’s not uncommon.
Watching them decide to be eager for enslavement at all just...twists something in his gut.
One by one the dealers show their candidates. They’re pretty, but Blaine can tell from Sebastian’s face that none of them are pleasing to him. He waves by one after another until one is left.
Blaine’s been curious about this one since they started showing. The dealer who spoke first had pulled the tall boy back and kept his hood deliberately over his face, allowing everyone else to go first. But now that he was the only one left, he stepped up, a disconcerting smirk on his face.
“This one didn’t come from the farms,” he says. “I was at the Ohio farm and got approached by someone looking to sell him. I thought you might be interested.”
By the way the boy turned to look at the dealer, he either didn’t know he’d been sold, or the dealer was lying. Neither would be a surprise, though he’s certain that either way, the boy was taken forcibly. The way the cloak shakes around his trembling body gives away the utter terror that only comes with finding yourself somewhere you had only thought yourself to be in your deepest nightmares.
But all thoughts of the boy’s origins slipped away when his hood is removed.
Blaine knows instantly that Sebastian will select this boy. He is young--probably no more than sixteen--but he’s already tall and slim, his face showing only traces of baby fat. He is beautiful in a sharp, elfin way, and Blaine knows that when the boy reaches full maturity he’ll be even more stunning. At a wave of Sebastian’s hand, his cloak is taken completely away, leaving him standing there naked, his quivering hands trying fruitlessly to cover himself despite the shackles. He is already lithe and has the beginnings of strong, sinewy muscle and masculine grace. He skin is delicate and pale, flushed deep red from his evident mortification.
Blaine wants to keep looking, but he knows Sebastian will notice his staring. Instead, he focuses on Sebastian himself.
By the look on his face, he’s right. Sebastian is going to keep him. He’s rarely seen Sebastian look so...eager. Maybe not since Blaine himself had been purchased a decade prior. And Blaine had not only been Sebastian’s first slave, but had remained his favorite for years. Something about this boy awakened an excitement and a hunger in Sebastian that made Blaine ache with sympathy for the boy’s coming entrapment and undoubtedly heavy use.
“How old is he?”
The dealer grins. “Sixteen.”
Sebastian nods, waving Blaine forward. Blaine holds out the paperwork, and the slave dealer approached to grab it and hands Blaine the key to the shackles, leading the poor boy along with him.
“I’ll sign the paperwork tomorrow,” Sebastian says. “Leave him. The rest, bring them around to the households on the list.”
The dealer nods, and leads the rest of them out, herding the rejected slaves out as quickly as possible. As soon as they’re gone, Sebastian stands, moving around the table to circle the boy. Blaine stands as well, but he stays back, waiting to do his Master’s bidding.
“Name.”
The boy lifts his chin, doing his best to look down his nose at Sebastian despite being shorter and still trembling from fear. Blaine’s heart instantly goes out to him.
“Kurt Hummel.”
His voice is high, clear and sharp.
“Well, Kurt Hummel,” Sebastian replies, the grin of a predator on his face, “you’ve just been purchased a bed slave. Do you know what that means?”
Kurt’s lip quivers, but he’s otherwise impassive as he nods once, jerky and sharp.
“Good. Then you’ll have no trouble adjusting to what is expected of you. Blaine here is seniormost of my boys; as far as you’re concerned he’s in charge and you’ll do as he says. And all his orders come directly from me, so you’ll face me if you disobey. Do you understand?”
“I’m not an imbecile.”
Blaine’s eyes widen, and it instantly feels like the room is holding its breath. His eyes dart between his Master and the boy standing still naked under their scrutiny, his head held a touch too high and his trembling still not quieted. But his voice had been strong and sharp, a clear attack. An offense as a method of defense. Against Sebastian, there’s never any telling how it could be taken--he is an unpredictable man, and there is an equal chance of Kurt being beaten for his temerity as there is of being praised for having spirit.
Blaine can see from the amusement on Sebastian’s face that he has come to the same conclusion about Kurt’s misguided attempt to shield himself, and is, hopefully, not taking offense.
“I like your fire,” Sebastian says approvingly. “It will come in useful.”
He gives Kurt another searching, appraising once-over and nods, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He turns to Blaine.
“Bring him to my rooms,” he commands. “I’ll be ready for him as soon as I’ve showered away the stench of the farm boys.”
Blaine bows his head in acquiescence, but he’s very much aware of the time limit enforced by that order--Sebastian never takes too long to shower. So he asks quietly, as a reminder, “Shall I prepare him first, Master?”
“No,” Sebastian replies, surprising Blaine. “I think I have other plans for this one.”
Blaine keeps his head bowed and doesn’t question as Sebastian brushes past him and leaves the room. But his stomach clenches and he fills with trepidation on the poor boy’s behalf. To be honest, there are many things Sebastian could have planned, but he’s certain that it won’t be some gentle introduction into his sexuality. Sebastian has a habit of “breaking in” the boys that resist, and Blaine has had to comfort more than one boy on his first night with their Master, coming back torn and hurting after being taught their place more efficiently than any whip could accomplish.
Blaine looks up at Kurt and is filled with the desire to memorize him as he is--untouched, beautiful, young, innocent. And as Kurt’s frightened eyes meet his own, he knows that Kurt really doesn’t know what’s in store for him. He might know the stories, the rumors, what he sees on television or in the movies, but being a slave is only something that a slave can understand, and Kurt’s still free of that everlasting burden of not being a person.
For a few more moments, he still has his wings.
But it can’t last.
“Come on,” Blaine says kindly, smiling softly at Kurt. He feels Kurt’s eyes on him as he steps forward and picks up the discarded robe, shaking it out before throwing it around Kurt’s bare shoulders.
“What--what’s going to happen?” Kurt asks quietly, apparently softened by the courtesy Blaine showed by covering him before proceeding to unlock his shackles. He’s tense, but Blaine’s sure he’s not stupid enough to run.
“You’re going to spend the night with our Master,” Blaine explains gently, dropping the chains to the ground carelessly, knowing they’ll be picked up by the house slaves in their nightly rounds. Instead, he puts his efforts into pulling the robe tight around Kurt, letting him have as much modesty as possible before the dignity of it is removed completely. He fidgets with the collar of it, straightening it unnecessarily--it won’t be seen by anyone but them, but Kurt doesn’t seem to mind, and it might help him to realize that Blaine is really there to take care of him.
“The whole night?” Kurt’s voice shakes, and his eyes swim, and Blaine’s heart breaks.
“Maybe,” he replies, not wanting to lie to the boy, “but I doubt it. Generally speaking, once he’s finished with you, he’ll fall asleep, and that’s when you’re free to return to the slave boys’ quarters.”
“But I--I don’t know what--I just--”
Kurt looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Blaine places his hands on Kurt’s shoulders and shushes him.
“It’ll be okay,” Blaine says. “I’ll tell you everything I can on the way to the bedroom, okay? But we’ve gotta get going, Sebastian will be angry if he has to wait.”
Kurt nods and Blaine turns to lead him out of the room, turning right to lead them across the house to Sebastian’s room.
“What am I going to have to do tonight?” Kurt questions. Blaine notices that he looks faintly sick, but he doesn’t have an answer that will take that away.
“You just do what he says,” Blaine answers. But as soon as Kurt shoots him an exasperated glare, he amends, “I can’t tell you exactly what he will want to do. Chances are, he’ll want to fuck you. That’s what usually happens with the slave boys he sends for at night--I’m told at dinner who he wants to see, and I make sure they’re prepped and ready for him, and they go and come back and go to bed. While they’re with him, it’s a simple matter of laying down how he tells you to lay down, and letting him do what he wants to do. That’s all that will be expected of you at first, though in time you’ll learn what he likes and you can find your own pleasure in it, if you’re willing and a little lucky. Now come on,” he adds, “it’s just up ahead.”
The hall turns left at the end, but the door is on their right; it is familiar to Blaine, but it’s a huge door and Blaine can tell Kurt is intimidated.
“I’m scared,” Kurt whispers, turning his eyes to Blaine, pleading. They’re a beautiful mix of colors, big and perfectly shaped, and Blaine feels for him.
“Just go in and wait,” Blaine instructs. “Just stand by the bed and wait, and do as you’re told. When you’re done, our rooms are down that hallway--”
“Can you--” Kurt shifts where he stands, taking a deep breath. “Can you wait for me? I don’t--”
“Of course,” Blaine says immediately, grabbing Kurt’s hand and squeezing it. “It’s my job to help you, okay? If you need me, I’m here. When Sebastian comes in, I won’t be able to do anything, but when you’re done I’ll be waiting right here and I’ll take care of you. All right?”
Kurt nods and faces the door again. Blaine reaches for the doorknob, quirking an eyebrow at Kurt, who draws himself up and nods again, firm.
“You’ll be fine,” Blaine encourages, opening the door. Kurt’s shoulders draw up and his face is a mask of terror and tension, but he walks through anyway.
Blaine feels an ache building in his chest watching Kurt face this with so much courage. He’s seen many boys enter this room for the first time, and there’s always pity and sympathy for the poor boy who has to face it, but he’s never admired them, never seen them face it so bravely. And that’s the only reason he agreed to stay outside, even though he knows he’ll only be adding to the nightmares he already has.
He catches a flash of Kurt’s eyes as he closes the door. Begging, scared, alone. Blaine hates everything about this life in that moment, despite any positives there may be. He hates it. But he can’t do anything about it. He can only make it just a little bit better where he can, so he sits down outside the door, arms wrapped around drawn-up knees, and he waits.
He waits through hearing the pipes shut off in the bathroom. He waits through Sebastian’s voice talking to Kurt behind the door, the words completely garbled by the thick wood. And he waits through a disconcerting moment of silence.
But when he hears Kurt start to beg, his voice thickened with tears, Blaine shuts his eyes and, like he often does when his life seems too much to manage, imagines himself escaping. Just taking what he can, and walking right out the door, down the road, going--anywhere.
By the time he hears Kurt cry out, his fantasy has morphed to include the beautiful young boy, standing by his side, holding his hand as they run away and never look back.
End Notes: This first chapter is not a happy one, but it does get better. Don't worry! It all turns out okay, I promise.I will be trying to post on Mondays and Fridays for the entirety of this fic. Any notices otherwise will happen on my Tumblr, under the tag (which will be "fic: Tasting Flight"). Extras, snippets, sneak peeks, and headcanons will be posted under the tag as well for those interested.Thank you for reading!
Comments
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riAH! That was so perf I need more like yesterday *drowns in puddle of own tears*
This was really good. I can't wait to see what happens next and to see the connection between Kurt and Blaine grow.
Excellent start. I can't wait to see where you take this! Your Blaine is amazing and your Kurt is perfect. I also think Sebastian was the best choice for the harem owner... I will be checking my tracked stories often.
amazing! I like it so much, and I add it to my favourite so that I can check when u update. really can't wait what will happen next for klaine, but I like sebastian and blaine too.. keep update, nice =)
Wow, this is so so sad and really good
This is honestly the single best fanfic I've ever read!! OMG the twist at the end!! Can't wait for the update! I hope Sebastian is still as possessive over Blaine as he was with Jeremiah despite Kurt! OMG I love you for writing this! Can't wait to read the next chapter!!
soifpcdndn I just wanna hug Blaine and Kurt so bad. My babies. I'm watching Jackass while reading this it's a really weird mix ahahha!
THIS STORY IS VERY GOOD, I CAN NOT STAND SEBASTIAN, BUT OF COURSE IN A SLAVE FIC HE WOULD BE THE OWNER ALWAYS BECAUSE HE IS THE BIGGEST POMPOUS ASS EVER. SO FAR I LIKE THIS STORY AND I MUST CONTINUE.
Omg poor Kurt, poor Blaine. I am so loving this already
Honestly, the imagination you must have to write such a story... Boggles my mind. And as another who was hesitant to read this at first, I will encourage anyone on the fence (as I was every time I hovered over the title for weeks) to read this story. Well written and thoroughly captivating. Thanks for sharing!