Chapter 5:

The man reflected back in the mirror was so unlike anyone Kurt had ever seen that he took a moment to recognise himself. He had been primped and plucked and buffed to within an inch of his life and whilst he'd always been pretty diligent about his skin-care, Kurt had never managed to make his pale face glow with such polished perfection before.

Quinn was standing off to the side, admiring her handiwork over his shoulder with a look of smug satisfaction as the beautiful man she'd helped to create preened and twirled in the looking glass.

"I don't know how you did this but, my God, you're impressive." Kurt breathed out in a high whispery voice. She laughed lightly again and put her hands on his shoulders to force him to properly take in the full extent of his transformation.

"Honey, I had a pretty impressive base to work with!"

"Are you sure about these clothes though? Won't I be expected to wear a suit or something a bit more conservative?" Kurt turned again, concerned that his current attire was a little risqué for a formal dinner with the other Lords, all of whom Kurt knew were considerably older than Blaine. His hands moved unconsciously to smooth down the tight black T-shirt with mesh panelling slashed in zigzags across it and tugged at the hem which kept riding up and displaying a quick flash of pearly white stomach when he moved. Quinn simply shook her head again at his naivety.

"Kurt sweetheart, do you know nothing about this job you've signed up for? The Lords will be dressed as you expect but your job is to be shown off; you know, like a display piece with a costume and all that! You're supposed to represent Blaine, and as such you need to look deliciously tempting. This." She pointed at the dark silver sprayed-on denim trousers and black biker boots he was currently sporting. "This. Will get you noticed by the important people. They'll be drooling into their entrées!" She laughed again but this time there was a flash of something darker in her eyes that Kurt couldn't decipher. He blocked out the quiver in his heart and the bile rising before thinking over what she'd said for a moment.

"But hey, um, won't the...well...aren't the rest of the Lords straight?"

Moving to block Kurt's view in the mirror and standing to face him, Quinn looked up at him suddenly serious. "Kurt, you really don't know much about this world do you?" She picked an invisible fleck off his t-shirt before holding his gaze again. Kurt swallowed and turned an even paler shade of grey. Noticing his distress, Quinn quickly took hold of his hand and pulled him gently to sit on the edge of the bed. She knelt in front of him on the carpet and gripped both his hands in hers.

"Kurt. The Lords...well...they're not really any designated sexuality. They have preferences of course and most are displaying female Subordinates but ....well they like everything that is beautiful and exquisite and untouchable. It shows power and wealth and domination and that's way more important than gender." She squeezed his fingers slightly and looked him square in the face. Kurt thought he saw her flinch slightly as she uttered the next words a little more ominously. "They will ALL want you Kurt. For a start, you're new. You're a new plaything to them. A lot have had the same Subordinates for years. Some alternate but generally they stick to a handful of them which they rotate at different functions. You. You're something entirely different. You're Blaine's"

Kurt eyes sparked as he noticed her use of Blaine's name for the first time as opposed to Mr. Anderson or Lord. Her next words sent a chill down his thinly covered spine,

"They're all watching Blaine, Kurt. He's too young and he's too new to all of this and that makes him dangerous. He's an unknown. A threat. And you Kurt; you are the final piece of his power and it will drive them mad with desire to take you."

"Can they?"

"What?"

"Take me. Can they take me?"

Kurt's voice was barely a whisper in the room, his frightened eyes appealing to Quinn. She pulled him into a hug and he collapsed against her warmth, craving the feeling of contact, even if only from this girl who was, until recently, a complete stranger. He found comfort there. She stroked his back gently before moving away to look seriously at him again her voice becoming oddly low.

"There are rules Kurt. They can look. They can admire, but they can't touch you." He sighed out the breath he'd been holding raggedly but froze as she continued. "Unless Lord Anderson says they can."

______________________________________________________ 

He'd still not been able to get the ringing of Quinn's ominous words out of his head when he slid into the plush leather seats of the sleek silver Limousine beside Blaine twenty minutes later, the line repeating over and over again. He realised now exactly how much he was at the mercy of the darkly brooding man and it terrified him.

Glancing sideways to take in the profile of his what? Lord? Master?....Lover? Kurt couldn't help but appreciate how stunningly beautiful the man was. His neatly honed and slender shoulders were encased in a simple dark tuxedo that clung to every contour of his sculpted body and his hair curled in softly gelled spirals around his dark hazel eyes. Kurt's breathing was ragged and too fast and Blaine noticed the effect he was having immediately, taking the opportunity to slide his thigh alongside the silver denim and flexing his muscles. Kurt's eyes closed momentarily before he forced himself to focus.

Blaine turned slightly towards him then, shifting his legs so that their bodies were facing each other, his knee pressing more firmly against Kurt's thigh now, and reached for a flat black velvet box tucked in the side pocket of the seat. He held it in front of Kurt expectantly. Pale blue eyes rose questioningly to Blaine's and the other man smiled slowly.

"Open it Kurt. It is for you."

Licking his lips nervously and trying not to quiver at the tingling sensation Blaine's voice stirred inside him, Kurt tentatively reached out and lifted the heavy lid. He gasped. Inside, nestled among folds of crimson satin was a black leather collar, about an inch in diameter and inlaid with a thick silver buckle at one end. Beneath the buckle, Kurt noted a small ‘BA' studded in shining metal, discreet but still very much noticeable, inlaid into the strap.

It was at once degrading and disgusting to him, the notion that he was to be collared like an animal..... and yet Kurt was appalled at the small thrill it induced in him. He swallowed nervously and looked up to Blaine's eyes which were now darker than he'd ever seen them.

"It's so people know you're mine." He said low and steady. "You're quite exceptional Kurt, and I need people to see who you belong to. You are my Subordinate, Kurt. Mine."

He knew he should have felt shame at the possessive and sinister ownership of Blaine's words but instead Kurt thought back to the ringing fear Quinn had etched into his brain and felt a strange sort of calm float down over his body. Blaine didn't want anyone else touching Kurt and it made him feel oddly protected.

Taking the collar out of the box and motioning for Kurt to turn around, Blaine moved to place it around his neck. Soft fingers stroked his delicate skin as they wrapped the leather into place and secured it tightly with the buckle, leaving Kurt feeling constricted and shackled but at the same time quivering with heat from the Lord's touch. He swallowed again, feeling the leather pull tighter at his bobbing adams apple and inwardly cringing at how much the motion excited him. Blaine watched his face the whole time, running paths over his flesh and noticing every twitch of desire in Kurt's revealing eyes. He smiled again, almost warmly, as he traced a line across the top of the collar in the motion of a slit across Kurt's throat, the skin prickling beneath his light touch.

"So beautiful, Kurt." He whispered, almost dream-like before turning back to face the front of the car leaving Kurt quivering silently beside him.

***

The house they pulled up to was similar to Blaine's in grandeur and size but it was newer and somehow seemed more gaudy and obvious than the Anderson's stylish residence. Several sleek black and silver vehicles were parked in the front courtyard, a smattering of chauffeurs leaning against them, smoking and chatting in the cold night air. Blaine felt Kurt stiffen beside him as they neared the property and instinctively moved to still his fingers before registering what he'd done and whipped his hand back again. Gritting his teeth he took a deep breath and turned towards Kurt.

"When we are inside you will only answer when I give you permission. You are to always address me as My Lord and are expected to do whatever I ask of you. None of the other Lords may touch you but they will try to speak to you. Do you understand?" Kurt nodded silently, feeling increasingly small but at the same time hoping desperately that Blaine would stay close to him that evening.

Better a familiar beast than a host of unknown devils. 

Blaine suddenly took hold of his face between his hands, thumbs cupping his cheeks and absently stroking them as he connected their eyes. "They will want you Kurt. You can exhibit your talents, speak intelligently in conversations but always remember you are mine. They cannot touch you. I'm your Lord. Always."

The surge of longing Kurt felt in his stomach bubbled to the surface and he flicked his eyes to Blaine's lips before biting self-consciously on his own. The movement caused a low and dark moan to escape Blaine's throat and he moved forward a tiny fraction, lips hovering over each other but not touching.

"Remember what I said earlier Kurt." He moved slightly, breath trailing over sensitive, throbbing skin and a slight knowing smile playing across his lips. "Only when you beg me to." Kurt's breath hitched and he groaned loudly, no attempt to hide it, as the car door was pulled open and Blaine stepped out calmly into the evening air.

String music was wafting through the entrance hall when they entered and Kurt was struck momentarily dumb by the splendour that greeted them. Chrystal chandeliers were strewn across the ceiling and thick, deep purple velvet drapes hung over the walls of the marbled entrance. They were welcomed by a butler who showed them silently into a larger ballroom, flanked on either side by grand floor-to-ceiling windows which offered impressive views of the painstakingly landscaped gardens, lit up by subtle fairy lights. The room itself was relatively empty of furniture, with the main polished flooring left open for the people casually milling around. In the corner off to the side, the string quartet were playing various background renditions of Debussy adding a dream-like air to the scene, and waiting staff dressed entirely in white were moving seamlessly between groups, constantly filling up glasses and mouths with champagne and canapés.

Kurt allowed himself a moment to take it all in before letting his eyes wander to the people who were dispersed around the room. The Lords themselves were instantly recognisable, all dressed in black tuxedos of varying quality, and Kurt thanked Quinn for her heads-up on the accepted attire that distinguished Subordinates from their masters. They were very much older than Blaine, Kurt noted, understanding now how much they must resent this young, powerfully and broodingly attractive Lord who had entered their sacred fold; Most, he  noticed too were generally quite overweight; the trappings of excessive living showing all too obviously on their bloated bodies.

He counted twelve Lords in total, including Blaine, before scanning the room for the Subordinates. These were equally as recognisable for their flamboyant attire, many in various exotic colours, fabrics and in most cases rather revealing clothing, intended to make them stand out and display their best assets. Most were women although a few beautifully carved young men wandered round in clothing similar to Kurt's uniform. He watched in awed horror as one of the young men, a blonde, tall, chiselled Adonis, dressed only in leather trousers and boots, knelt on the floor beside one of the Lords and proceeded to lick his shoes, slowly and without protest. Kurt's stomach churned as he watched the smug satisfaction spread across the Lords twisted red face as he pulled on a thick silver chain attached to the Subordinates collar.

Blaine's eyes followed Kurt's stare and he felt his own gut twinge uncomfortably at the mortification of the Subordinate. While Blaine knew the necessity of having these servants in order to fully ingratiate himself with the Lord's world, he had never managed to reconcile himself to the cruel and sick ways in which the older Lords exerted their power.  Regardless of what Seth told him and trained him to think, Blaine's inner morality struggled with the debased inhumane treatment some Subordinates suffered. Of course, none of this could be outwardly expressed and Blaine allowed an air of detached indifference to settle on his face.

One of the Lords, rather tall in stature and slimmer than most of the others approached Blaine with a grin plastered on his face that Kurt noticed didn't reach his eyes. Almost instantly, Blaine's hand moved to the small of Kurt's back and he pulled him a fraction closer, keeping his hand in place. The warmth from his palm settled something in Kurt that had been jumping nervously and once again he felt calmed by the possessive touch of Blaine Anderson.

"Lord Anderson, I'm so glad you could make it to tonight's soiree." He simpered, a rather limp hand reaching out for Blaine to take hold of, all the while looking at Kurt in ill-concealed fascination. Blaine nodded his head in acknowledgement and pressed a little tighter into Kurt's skin. "Lord Buckley." he said smoothly.

The other man's eyes had not left Kurt, had unashamedly roved across his body, stripping every remaining shred of clothing off him with his eyes, and he licked his lips lasciviously.

"And I see you've finally brought yourself a Subordinate." He said, voice snaking around Kurt and making him squirm inwardly. "He is quite delicious, Anderson. You must tell me where you found him." His hand was quivering at his side and Kurt could see how much the older man wanted to touch him, claim him and mark the thing that was Blaine's, but tradition and rules of propriety imprisoned him. He watched Blaine's jaw clench as the other Lord reached out his hand and asked "May I touch him, Lord Anderson?" in a shaky, lust-filled voice.

"No, you may not." Blaine's voice was authoritative and the power of it surged through Kurt and made his legs tremble. "Kurt is my Subordinate only and is not for exchange or hire at this current time." The response was courteous but firm and Lord Buckley moved back, slightly in cold acquiescence but Kurt couldn't fail to register the glint of anger that flashed across his face. Strike one for Blaine Anderson.

"Does he speak?" he asked levelly, eyes once again falling to Kurt's lips.

Blaine looked to Kurt whose eyes, he noted, were angled respectfully at the floor and pressed a little further into his back. "Of course. Kurt, you may answer this man's questions."

Although his voice was its usual cold and bored tone, Kurt could detect an element of pride in his Lord and there was still an obvious gentleness to the hand that was rubbing tiny circles into the sensitive flesh of his lower back. Suddenly Kurt didn't want to disappoint in his role. He wanted to help exhibit Blaine's power amongst these stuffed and pompous relics and show just how formidable he could be. He raised his eyes and looked the other Lord square in the face challengingly.

As if thrown by Kurt's penetrating blue stare, Lord Buckley stammered a little before he cleared his throat. "Why did you choose to work for Lord Anderson Kurt ,when you could have any number of older, more experienced Lords competing to own you?" There was a sneer in his voice as he attempted to belittle Blaine. Kurt tensed and felt a surge of loyalty that took him by surprise. He maintained a passive facial expression but answered clearly and confidently.

"I wanted to work for someone powerful..... and young." he said pointedly, emphasising Blaine's youth and angling his face up defiantly, enjoying the flash of anger that he saw in the other man.  

"And what kind of talents do you possess, aside from the obvious of course?" Lord Buckley slid his eyes over his body again.

Kurt looked to Blaine for confirmation he could speak and Blaine nodded slightly, the unspoken exchange not lost on the older man who seemed irritated by Kurt's obedience to the young Anderson.  "I speak French and Spanish fluently," Kurt spoke calmly. "And I can sing and play the piano."

The older man looked amused by this new Subordinate with his strange submissive defiance, and whilst they'd been speaking a small crowd of three other Lords had circled, interest sparked by the pale faced, ethereal boy attached to Lord Anderson. Another Lord, this one sporting the tell-tale red face of alcoholism, moved forward and addressed Blaine.

"Make him perform for us during dinner. I want to see this new Sub do all that he says he can."

Blaine's eyes flashed with something Kurt didn't recognise before the young Lord flicked his wrist towards the piano and said in a controlled voice "Kurt. Play". Without question, Kurt moved towards the piano before he felt a tug on the back of his collar, choking him slightly. He froze as he heard Blaine's low, mocking voice, the one he used to show absolute control, speaking smoothly behind him. "Take off your shirt." Kurt's heart sank a little as the shame washed over his face and he lowered his eyes to the floor. He'd thought Blaine was in some way protecting him but now he felt the familiar twisting in his gut at the reality of his misplaced trust.

Feeling his eyes start to brim with tears, Kurt forced himself to remain steady. He would not show weakness in this society. Kurt Hummel was better than that. Reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, Kurt kept his eyes levelly on Blaine, who stared back with a practised look of nonchalance, and pulled the shirt over his head in one fluid motion. He breathed in a deep but shaky breath to steady himself and willed his arms to stay by his sides, all the while feeling his skin crawl as several eyes devoured him. With a confidence he no longer truly possessed, Kurt strode purposely over to the grand piano in the corner of the room and positioned himself on the stool, stretching his fingers and rolling his neck slightly, desperately trying to block out the sound of audible moans that rippled across the room at the twitch in his muscles. 

This was Kurt's domain; his power, his control, and he mustered the strength that playing usually brought, relaxing his shoulders and allowing himself to drift off into his own fairy tale. Mozart flowed from his fingers and wrapped around the men and women in the room, all rendered immobile by the soft power of the melody.

Something stirred amongst the men and Kurt played on, oblivious.

______________________________________________

"Seth was right about you."

An arm reached across him, barricading Kurt's attempt to exit the bathroom and the voice snaked around the enclosed space. They were entirely alone; he'd been granted permission to use the toilet by Blaine during dinner and had found himself in a gaudy, gold and black tiled restroom situated on an upstairs level of the house.

Kurt's heart thumped as he forced himself to meet Lord Buckley's lecherous smirk. The solid bulk of the man blocked his way and Kurt felt claustrophobic, fear fluttering in his chest as he kept his eyes to the floor.

"He said you were a real piece of work, but I hadn't really believed him." Lord Buckley continued, smirking at Kurt's obvious discomfort and refusal to speak. The mention of Seth's name intrigued Kurt but he was too vulnerable and unprotected at that moment to fully understand the implications of Blaine's advisor's involvement with the other Lord. He maintained his assessment of the tiles beneath his boots and tried to extricate himself.

"I have to return to Lord Anderson." Kurt whispered quietly.

The older man laughed, his eyes raking over Kurt and his tongue darting out to lick his lips in a serpent-like movement that made Kurt cold. "Lord Anderson is otherwise engaged." He said, inching closer and pressing his body against the pale Subservient, imprisoning him against the wall, the sink pressing uncomfortably into Kurt's back. He was taller than Kurt and his form loomed over him as he leaned forward and breathed his stale breath onto Kurt's face.

"Your young Lord really should learn to share his things. You are far too delicious an object to not hire out."

His finger traced Kurt's still naked chest, running over his nipple and making Kurt's eyes tear as disgust rolled through him. Kurt longed to push him off, to defend himself as he would normally but he felt lost and broken in this world of Submissives and power and found himself entirely frozen. His eyes stung as he felt his nipple pinched painfully between the fleshy fingers and he felt a wave of nausea flood his stomach.

"Y..y..you can't touch me." He said shakily. His obvious distress seemed to thrill the other man and he laughed cruelly as he pressed his full length against him and moved his lips to Kurt's neck, sucking at the untouched skin as Kurt squirmed in disgust away from him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Blaine's voice was darkly violent and sent Lord Buckley leaping back from Kurt's body as if stung. Kurt remained panting and struggling to hold down the revulsion that was twisting his stomach, hand clenching the sink behind him and eyes flickering terrified between his master and the other Lord.

"You were denied permission to touch him and yet you took it anyway." Blaine growled out in a voice that made Kurt's skin prickle with fear. Lord Buckley, however, had since regained his composure, smiling languidly at the younger Lord and straightening his bowtie, feigning indifference to the scene.

"You should control your Subordinate more." He said, eyes sliding to Kurt and twisting his mouth into a distorted leer. "He was just begging me to give him what you obviously haven't yet."

Whimpering in undisguised anguish, Kurt dragged his eyes to Blaine, imploring him not to believe the words of the older Lord and at the same time feeling disgust tug at his heart as he realised he cared that Blaine thought well of him. Blaine didn't look at him, his fixed stare boring in to the taller man's victorious face.

"Kurt, go out to the car." He said gravely.

Without needing any further excuse to leave the stifling room, Kurt pushed off from the sink and ran past the two men, desperate to escape the clawing at his heart and the crawling sensation over his skin. When he finally felt the cool leather against his naked back, Kurt allowed his breath to hitch in a broken sob that wrenched from his throat, and all of the self-loathing of the last twenty-four hours poured out of him in ragged gasps. He clutched at the seat, unable to breath as he gagged twice, clenching his jaw shut against the urge to vomit.

It was in this condition that Blaine found him, moments later when he slid smoothly into the seat beside him and demanded the driver take them home through gritted teeth. He didn't look at Kurt while the other man struggled to regain his composure, but Kurt could see the muscles in his neck straining against his anger.

"I..I'm s....ss...sorry" he gasped through his tears. "I didn't want him to....I..I...didn't let him."

Blaine still didn't look at him and Kurt's heart sank in surrender to whatever fate awaited him at Blaine's retribution for his disobedience. "Am...Am I to be punished?" he whispered, tears dried now but staining tracks down his cheeks.

The air in the car was stifling as Blaine turned finally to look at him. He followed the blotched and wrecked skin of Kurt's face with his eyes before reaching up and tracing a finger along one of the tear stains. His face was tense and rigid but his eyes suddenly softened in a way Kurt had never seen before.

"I'm not going to punish you, Kurt." He spoke gently and so unlike the callous figure he'd presented inside that Kurt trembled a little. This man had the power to completely disarm Kurt with a touch and a kind word and the knowledge made the Subordinate dizzy.

"Kurt, I know he touched you without permission. I was expecting it really. I knew they'd want you and Lord Buckley's the worst. I came looking for you for that reason." He still cupped Kurt's cheeks, thumbs stroking the fresh tears that the boy couldn't seem to get under control. "He will not touch you again Kurt." He said, voice steely and hard.

Kurt whimpered a little, not quite able to meet Blaine's searching eyes but longing for comfort, for some form of gentle touch or hold that would eradicate the violation he felt crawling over his skin. Without questioning the fact that such comfort should be sought in the form of Blaine, a man who was both master and jailor to the young Subservient, Kurt flung himself into his arms and curled up trembling against his chest.

Startled for the briefest of seconds, Blaine remained frozen, arms stiff at his sides as the young boy attempted to claw his way into his skin, burrowing in and drenching his shirt with fresh tears. Human contact was alien to Blaine, his upbringing one of awkward shoulder pats and absent affection, and so faced with a sobbing, broken man his initial reaction was to repel the figure from him.

Despite the overwhelming need to flinch away, Kurt's vulnerable form and so trusting display stirred something in Blaine that he'd never experienced before, and with awkward hesitation the young Lord's arms wrapped carefully around the shaking shoulders and held on. The warmth of Kurt's flesh caused an electric reaction in Blaine and he suddenly pulled harder, grabbing the quivering boy into him further and stroking his back, feeling the muscles physically release beneath his touch.

"Please." Kurt's voice was scratchy and he choked out the plea into the darkness of Blaine's chest, not knowing what he was asking for but knowing he needed something. Anything. More. Blaine pulled back sharply and grabbed either side of Kurt's face, wrenching his head up to meet his searching gaze.

"What, Kurt? What do you want?" His voice was low but whispery and for the first time Kurt could detect a hint of vulnerability in the unfamiliar tone. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated and blown-wide as he shook Kurt gently, his fingers burning into the white cheeks. "What do you want, Kurt?" he growled again. 

Wrapped in the darkness of his new world, Kurt succumbed entirely to his throbbing skin. A wide cavern seemed to open in front of him, flames licking at his flesh, melting morality and reason. Nothing from his former life seemed to remain anymore. Not his father. Not his home. Not his conscience. Standing on the edge of it all, Kurt stretched out his arms and jumped into the abyss.

"Kiss me, my Lord" he begged darkly.