Preface:
This story is written for all Sirs who have genuinely loved their boy and for all boys who have absolutely loved their Sir. If you are looking for an honest story of the insight, trust, and devotion that only a Dom and a boy may share, please continue. People first; sex and pain, second.
All individuals are over the age of 18.
This story is a work of fiction, modeled from reality. What is fiction in this story is changed to protect these sacred moments from the world. Please, friends, share your thoughts with me, desertdoms@protonmail.com.
The Liberators: Chapter 2 - Beginnings
Evan never cared for wanton cruelty to anyone - especially subs, slaves, and boys. Cruelty was cheap, the world gives it freely. Love, liberation, and loyalty. Those are rare things. Those are gifts from the world. Nor did Even ever really care for sex. Sex is cheap, it comes so easily and freely. Submission, that is a gift. Boys are the vessels of that gift.
Evan looks at the boy kneeling before him, naked, trembling, head bowed, hands cuffed behind his back, bruises on his body. Evan is moved by the boy's plight.
Evan asked, "You know why you're here boy?"
"Yes Sir," said the boy.
"Tell me why you are here boy," said Evan.
The boy replies meekly and robotically, "Because I'm a faggot, Sir. I am here to serve you."
A tempest of protective love flooding through him. Evan casts his left hand quickly, firmly grabbing the boy's mahogany brown hair and swiftly pulls backwards. The boy's neck craned to meet Evan's gaze. The boy is afraid but expectant. With a fierce slap to the boy's left cheek Evan says, "Wrong boy. Again, tell me why you are here boy."
The boy, confused, says louder, "BECAUSE I'M A FAGGOT SIR. I AM HERE TO SERVE YOU, SIR!".
"Wrong!" says Evan and strikes him harder on the cheek, holding firmly the boy's hair. "Again..." says Evan.
"I don't know Sir!" exclaims the boy. Shock, confused, afraid.
Evan crashes six hard slaps across the boy's cheek.
"Because. Someone. Sold. You. To. Me." Evan accentuates every word with a slap harder than the last.
"Is that true boy?" asked Evan.
"I don't know Sir!" the boy whimpered.
Evan knew he had caught the boy off guard. The boy thought he was there to have his throat fucked hard and then leave. He was not expecting to get hit like this. Evan seized the moment, to break through the boy's emotional barrier. To destroy the walls of protection his pimp and abuser had instilled. Evan began to slap the boy repeatedly on the same cheek, harder, faster.
"WHY ARE YOU HERE BOY?", demanded Evan as the blows continued.
Evan's hand is numb from striking the boy. His knuckles in the boy's hair racked with stiff pain. The boy, squirming from the assault, begins to panic. He tries to rise but is forced to kneel again by Evan's firm grip and forceful slaps. He tries to break free, but Evan stands over the boy. Forcing the boy to topple backwards, suspended only by the hair clung to with Evan's left hand.
Evan is relentless, grinding down this poor boy. His heart aches with what this boy has been through, is going through, and must endure soon. "WHY ARE YOU HERE BOY?" growls Evan as he increases his hitting of the boy, his palm on fire from the force used. He sees the boy starting to wilt before him. The boy's fight was gone, a result of the abuse his pimp trained him well in.
The boy begins to cry but says nothing to Evan aside from his sobs. Evan knows the boy is almost there, almost ready to break free from his tortured bonds of emotion. He tells the boy, "Look at me, boy. Look at me when I hit you. Stop holding back from me. Give yourself to me. Give whatever is left of you to me right now! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"
The boy breaks. He starts to convulse, his brain turned to mush, his tears flowing, snot gushing, drool pouring from his mouth. The boy is soaked in sweat, it pools underneath him. Evan knows it is now or never. The boy is starting to shut down, his body and mind overwhelmed with his life and this pain. Evan could lose this boy. His pimp may try to hurt Evan. "I have to try," thinks Evan to himself.
Evan quickly lays the boy on his back. He angles the boy's back upwards as Evan cradles him in his arms. He pulls the boy's face to his chest, resting it there. He slowly rocks the boy back and forth, stroking his hard, wiping the muck from his face. He tells the boy, "I can help you boy. I can get you away from all this. From HIM. Please, boy. Please let me protect you."
The boy, still conscious - but barely, shakes his head and whispers, "You can't help me. He'll kill me."
Evan whispers firmly back to the boy, while stroking his face and hair, "He can't kill me, and I am with you. We can do this together. Please, boy." Evan leans down and kisses the boy deep, tenderly. Evan places his hand on the boy's heart as the kiss ends, it is beating fast. With the hand on the heart of the boy, he presses his forehead to the boys.
"Breath with me boy, we can do this." says Evan. "You're safe, you're protected. I'm not going anywhere."
Evan repeats this for over 15 minutes as the boy's heart slows down, his breathing normalizes, his sweat cools and dries. Still, not a word from the boy. No movement. Nothing.
Evan is preparing himself for the confrontation with the pimp. The boy will tell that bastard everything and Evan spent his whole savings on the boy already. $300 for the night, all the money in the world for a 22-year-old Evan. This is going to get ugly, fast. Evan wishes he had been stronger for the boy. Evan thinks to himself "Please don't leave me like this boy. You are so much more than what any...". Evan's thoughts are interrupted.
The boy pushes his face into Evan's chest, and he begins to sob quietly, limply. "Please help me. Oh dear god please help me..." says the boy. "I can't go back to him. I just can't. Just kill me please. I can't do this anymore. I got nowhere to go. Please just kill me." the boy continued.
"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay boy. Nothing is going to happen to you. You won't go back. You will live. You will be happy. You will be free." said Evan.
The boy sobbed harder. Evan could feel the boy afraid to believe it. He could feel the boy's pain. The lies, the broken promises, the "clients" who hurt him, the pimp who destroyed him. A life never the same again. Evan pulled a small key from his pocket, and uncuffed the boy. Before the boy could move, Evan grabbed the boy and embraced him. The boy slowly returned the gesture. Then firmly, then with a hidden strength the boy hugged Evan so hard that Evan struggled to breath.
"I'm not letting go until you do, boy." said Evan.
An hour passes, and the boy slowly let go. Evan looks at the boy's face. It is puffy, red. His brown eyes betray a feeling of hope. "Let's get dressed, this is going to happen fast. I need you to listen to me. Do what I say when I say it. Understand boy?" asked Evan.
"Yes Sir," said the boy.
Evan held the boy's hand and guided him to the bed. A large suitcase was laying open. 3 changes of clothes meticulously packed. Evan eyed the 5'8 average frame of the boy, his darker skin. Evan sees the boy's marks on his body. The bruises, the cigarette burns, the scars - some of them look recent. Evan knows the boy has been through more horror than he could imagine.
"Okay, put these on now. If anyone asks, we're on a date." said Evan.
The boy slowly began to dress himself in the blue long-sleeved shirt, tight black boxer briefs, skinny black jeans, and white socks. The boy stops before putting on his shoes, looks up at Evan who is standing by the window and says "We can't just leave. They're watching us."
"Who is watching us?" Evan asked incredulously.
The boy replied, "Mike D's handlers. They make sure all his...um...employees are uh...well that they can't run away. That the clients don't do anything stupid to them without paying up. There's no way we can fucking do this. I'm sorry. I just. No. I can't leave."
The boy starts to talk faster and faster, repeating that he can't leave. That they will kill them both if they try to leave. The boy paces the room, circling the bed, pulling at his hair in a trance of despair saying over and over "We just can't. It's done. Why the fuck did I believe you. WHY!?"
Evan, in fear of losing the boy, races across the room to him. His 5'3 stocky frame catches the boy off guard as he tackles him to the bed with surprising gentleness. The boy is crying. Through his muffled tears he whimpers "You'll be just like them. You'll never let me leave. I can't do this anymore."
Evan, in near panic of what to do, kisses the boy. The boy fights back, tries to pry himself from Evan's lips. Evan struggles to pin the boy's arms above his head. Using all his strength to keep him down, centering his weight on the boy's chest as he keeps his lips firmly on the boy's mouth. A battle of will ensues.
The boy, leveraging his height over Evan, jostles his legs to the side and finds an opening to push Evan off him. Evan tumbles off the narrow bed and onto the floor. His head hitting the cheap end table, a small gash ruptures above his left ear. Stunned, Evan loses precious seconds. In a flash, the boy scurries towards the door, clawing at the locks to get out.
Evan comes to just enough to know the boy is almost gone forever. With waning strength, he charges the boy. Slams him into the door and uses his weight to pull both to the ground. The boy, tired and distraught, is clawing at Evan. The boy fights like a trapped animal. Punches flailing wildly to Evan's head and neck. One lands on Evan's right eye, bouncing his head off the ground. Evan holds onto the boy with all he has.
Another blow from the boy hits the side of Evan's neck. An elbow pops Evan's clenched jaw. A rage of emotional release exits the boy's fists and drains into Evan's body. Blow upon blow. Evan never yields to holding the boy. He takes it. He knows the boy isn't trying to hurt him. The boy is terrified.
The boy's rage, as all rage does, ebbs from his body and mind with each strike against Evan. Evan's embrace never falters. As the boy tires he starts to shake again, his assault nearing an end. The boy knows he has lost. He screams "GOD FUCKING DAMMMIT!".
Evan holds him closer. He tells the boy "It's okay. I'll take it all. You are safe. You are protected. I'm going to get you out of here." The boy wraps his arms around Evan's head and squeezes tight. Evan feels the boys sweat and tears cascading onto him.
"I'm not letting go until you do." Evan says to the boy.
"I'm never going to let go until you do. Do you want to let me go?" Evan asks the boy.
Silence
Evan whispers into the boy's chest. "I'm getting you out of this world, boy. But I won't make you do it. I need your help too."
"How?" the boy whispers back.
"Trust me for 10 more minutes. Just 10. Please..." says Evan.
The boy slowly lets Evan go. Evan helps the boy stand up. "Sit on the bed, boy." says Evan. The boy obeys. Evan reaches for a burner phone in the suitcase, now strewn on the floor from the struggle. He tosses the once well packed contents back into the suitcase and looks at the boy.
Evan forcefully delivers his instructions to the boy. "When I say 'now', I mean right the fuck now. We walk out, you holding my hand. We go right as we exit the room. Around the corner, into the small black truck. You get in and we drive. YOU. NEVER. LOOK. BACK. UNDERSTOOD BOY?!" The boy nods, "Yes Sir."
Evan slyly slinks over to the window and peers out the side of the curtains. The parking lot is mostly empty. Evan scans the lot to find the handlers. He sees them sitting in a gold Buick Lesaber staring towards the room. The room with Evan's boy. Evan knows why they arranged for the boy to be at this motel.
A cash only, rent by the hour, no questions or ID asked, dirty room, in a bad part of town motel is used for only a few things...and Mike D's operation was one of those things. Evan glances at the clock on the nightstand. Midnight. "Only 30 minutes left...perfect" Evan thought. He opens the burner phone and starts to dial, looking over at the bed. The boy is gone. Evan panics and sprints to the bathroom. He nearly collides with the boy. Surprised, Evan starts to exclaim "I thought I told you to -". Evan is interrupted by the boy.
The boy places a warm washcloth above Evan's left ear.
"I'm sorry Sir. You were bleeding." The boy tenderly whimpers as he looks down, still holding the cloth to Evan's head.
"Look at me boy. Now." Evan commanded. The boy rose his eyes to meet Evan's. Evan pressed send on the phone and brought the phone to his right ear - never breaking the boy's gaze.
The boy heard a female voice come through the phone.
"911 what's your emergency?"
"There are two men with guns sitting in the parking lot of the El Royale hotel on Grand Avenue. They keep waving them around. I think they are trying to kill someone in the hotel. Gold Buick Lesaber. OH MY GOD, YOU NEED TO HURRY. PLEASE."
"Calm down Sir. Did you say - "
"EL ROYALE HOTEL! GRAND AVENUE! GUNS! GOLD BUICK LESABER! HURRY! JESUS CHRIST GET DOWN!"
"Sir -"
Evan ends the call, his hands shaking, looks down to take out the sim card of the phone and snaps it in two. Evan looks back at the boy to see the boy crack a faint smile. They stand there, gazing at one another for a minute - an eternity. "Thank you, Sir," the boy says quietly. "Thank you boy," says Evan. The boy leans in to kiss Evan, his tongue edging his way into Evan's mouth. Evan's left hand, on the boy's nipple, tugging slightly. For the first time that night, Evan, and the boy, were truly alone with one another.
Sirens, flashing lights, screeching tires. Both the boy and Evan run to the window. They see the police arrive and swarm the handler's car - guns drawn. The handlers try to flee. A fight begins between them and the officers.
"Now?" Asks the boy
"Now." Says Evan.
The boy opens the door. Evan takes the boy's left hand in his right, carrying the small suitcase with the other. They turn right as they exit the room and follow the corner to Evan's truck. Evan throws the suitcase into the bed of the truck, reaches into his pocket for the keys and opens the boy's door. The boy quickly is seated, door closed. Evan runs to the driver side, opens the door, gets in and drives west.
They drive in silence for 15 minutes before the boy asks "May I have your name, Sir? I mean, I know your name is Sir, but...well...what do other people call you?"
"I'm Evan. Who are you boy?" says Evan.
"I'm...Jaime...but...please call me boy." Jaime meekly replies.
"Boy it is then" says Evan as he reaches to hold Jaime's left hand.
"I never looked back, Sir."
"And you never will again, boy."