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Chapter Three

Alex

Alex gazed at himself in the mirror. His thick brown hair had been blow-dried into a bouffant style, he was clean-shaven, and he was wearing a pair of sinfully tight pale blue jeans, an equally tight white shirt, and an ugly salmon-pink jacket.

It had been two weeks since he’d agreed to start eating again, and his body had started to fill out with the food and enforced exercise regime.

“Really?” he asked, wrinkling his nose as he looked at himself. “I look like a stuffed piglet. Is that what this guy is into?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve entertained Mr Bagshaw many times before,” Lorenzo said, standing behind him and studying him critically in the mirror. “He likes his young men to be pretty, well groomed, closely shaved, and looking…”

“Like a blancmange? This isn’t even a cool shade of pink – it’s ugly as fuck.”

“… like sweet, innocent boys,” Lorenzo finished.

Alex laughed. “It’s been years since I was either innocent or a boy. Who is this guy? He sounds creepy.”

“He’ll treat you well enough. There are plenty worse,” the stylist said firmly. “Be nice to him.”

“What happened to the other one? ”

“What other one?” Lorenzo replied, fussing around the room, tidying up.

“The one who lived in this room and fucked this Bagshaw guy for Tyler before me. I can’t be the first.”

Lorenzo folded the towel he’d picked up off the bed.

“He was moved to a different location. Mr Tyler has other properties and other places he does business. This is his residential London HQ, but he likes to keep different indies with different looks in various places in case he needs to parachute one of them in for a particular job.”

“Like a harem?” Alex tried to adjust his clothes in a way that made them more comfortable. The skinny jeans left nothing to the imagination, and he wasn’t used to the outline of his cock being so obviously visible.

“If you like. You’re his star attraction now. You’re beautiful and famous, so you’ll be much in demand. Mr Tyler will get his money’s worth out of you.”

Alex made a face at himself in the mirror. “How reassuring. Do we know what Bagshaw has done for Tyler to be granted the pleasure of my company for the night?”

“I don’t ask questions like that, and neither should you,” Lorenzo said sharply. “I just do my job and keep my mouth shut about things that don’t concern me – you’ll learn to do the same.”

“Easier to say when your job isn’t having sex on command,” Alex snapped back.

Lorenzo sighed and walked over to him. “About that, my love…” He handed Alex a little see-through bag with a couple of pills in it. “These should help if you experience any difficulties in that department.”

“Never needed any help before,” Alex said.

“You’ve always been able to choose your own partners before, sweetheart.” Lorenzo patted his arm kindly.

Alex’s stomach lurched. This was his first assignment, and he didn’t have any idea if he’d be able to perform. He’d had zero libido for months. Maybe it’d return if he had a sexual partner, but that didn’t seem likely, given the circumstances. He pocketed the pills gratefully.

“You’ll do fine, lover boy,” Lorenzo reassured him, brushing his bouffant hairstyle with his fingertips. “Go get ’em, tiger.” He pressed a little kiss to his cheek, and then, with one last, sad look, left the room.

Alex’s stomach churned even more as his guard escorted him to the living room.

He’d been forced along this path step by step, each leading inexorably to this moment, and he wasn’t sure how to react.

There was no way out – that much was clear – but how could he hang on to some semblance of himself when Tyler was so determined to turn him into someone else?

Was this how it was for all indentured servants after losing their freedom, or was he feeling this way because he was being made to whore for his new houder?

The lights in the living room had been dimmed, music was playing softly, and Solange was standing there in a tight red dress that clung sinfully to every curve on her beautiful body.

“At least you got to wear something nice,” Alex said. She gave him an understanding smile and took hold of his hand.

“You’ll get through this,” she said, pulling him close.

“First time is the worst, huh?” He forced a smile.

“You’ll be fine.” She wrapped her arms around him and danced with him slowly around the room, stroking soothing circles on his back as they swayed in time to the music.

He rested his chin on her shoulder, and the soft clouds of her hair gently brushed his cheek. He loosened up a little.

“Be brave, Alex,” she whispered into his ear. “You can do this.” Then, hearing footsteps and laughter in the hallway, she gave his hand a quick squeeze and drew away.

Tyler entered the room, looking relaxed in an all-black ensemble – chinos, open-necked shirt, and jacket.

With him were his two “guests”, both men in their forties, dressed in business suits.

One had receding hair, a pudgy face, a lazy left eye, and a beer belly that hung over his waistband, while the other was tall and lean, with a wolfish quality.

Neither was attractive. Alex wondered which one was his.

“Ah, here are my beautiful friends,” Tyler announced, winking at Alex. “This is the lovely Solange – you’ve met her before, Martin, but Clive hasn’t had the pleasure.”

Martin was clearly the portly man. He took Solange’s hand and raised it to his lips.

She gave a little giggle, as if flattered by the attention, and it was all Alex could do not to roll his eyes.

Tall thin Clive took Martin’s place, his gaze travelling brazenly up Solange’s body and back down again as if he couldn’t believe anyone so beautiful existed.

He gave her a little kiss on the cheek, and Alex saw the look of undisguised lust in his eyes.

So, Solange was clearly Clive’s prize for the evening, which meant his own services were reserved for Martin.

“And, of course, you must all know the new addition to the Tyler household – Alexander Lytton.” Tyler put his hand on Alex’s shoulder and squeezed hard, in clear warning. “We’re very lucky to have such a fine young man living with us here.”

“I read all about you, you poor thing,” Martin exclaimed. “Thank God George scooped you up and took you in. I dread to think what could have happened if someone less understanding had bought you.”

He took Alex’s hand in both his chubby ones, holding on tight, never once taking his eyes off Alex’s face. “Such a sweet boy, and so lost. You’ve been rescued, you really have,” he crooned, stroking Alex’s fingers.

Tyler squeezed Alex’s shoulder again, and he managed to croak out a meaningless reply.

Beaming, Martin very slowly lifted Alex’s hand to his lips and kissed it, lingering over the performance.

Alex barely suppressed a shudder, and Tyler dug his fingers into his shoulder hard whilst calling Clive over to be introduced. The thin man barely looked at Alex, and their introduction was brief and brusque. Clive clearly resented every second spent away from Solange.

They sat down on the sofas as a butler brought over a tray of drinks. Tyler kept the alcohol flowing and the conversation moving, flattering his guests with little compliments about their business prowess, or their golfing handicaps.

Alex felt at sea, ill-equipped to join in the chat, but that didn’t seem to matter.

Martin sat beside him, popping up regularly to fetch him another drink, or a footstool, or a bowl of nibbles, and repeatedly asking if he was too warm, or too cold.

All Alex had to do was smile and nod – nothing else was required of him, which was a relief.

Solange laughed as Clive rested his hand on her thigh. Alex’s jaw tightened; he didn’t like being viewed as a piece of meat by Martin, but he hated Clive’s predatory gaze and wandering hands with Solange just as much.

Tyler noticed and leaned forward. This time, he rested his hand on the back of Alex’s neck, and Alex forced himself to appear more relaxed.

Tyler continued to choreograph the scene, calling for more drinks and effortlessly bringing up new subjects for discussion.

Every so often, he’d draw attention to Solange’s “smooth skin”, or Alex’s “sweet smile”, to stoke up the sexual tension already escalating in the room.

Martin leaned in so close that their thighs were squashed together.

Alex crossed his legs, took a gulp of his drink, and plastered on a fake smile.

He’d dealt with unwanted interest before, but this was different because he wasn’t allowed to object or refuse; the aim was to fire Martin’s interest, not dampen it.

The man’s hands were wandering as much as Clive’s now, gently patting his leg or stroking his hair.

He was relieved when Tyler suggested they move into the dining room. Letting the others go first, he grabbed another glass of wine from the butler’s tray as they filed out of the room, jumping when he heard a hard voice in his ear.

“Take it easy with the drink,” Tyler warned. “It’s fine to get yourself in the mood, but if you can’t perform later, then someone will suffer – I promise.”

Alex put the drink back onto the tray; he didn’t want to give Tyler an excuse to beat Solange again.

His houder smiled at him genially. “Good boy. See, you’re learning. I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to see a Lytton whoring for me. In fact, I’ve always wanted my own pet Lytton, and you’re perfect.”

“I’m doing what I have to do,” Alex snapped. “Nothing more.”

“I know, but one day you’ll do all this because you want to. No more frowning, fidgeting, and backchat. One day, I’ll have you so well trained that you’ll enjoy your work and do it willingly, with a smile on your face. Then there’ll be no need for alcohol to get you through.”

“That’ll never happen.”