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Subject 101, Part Fourteen

Reply to Shelly and Sherri

Posted to the Roswell Slash list October 11, 2000

TITLE: Subject 101
AUTHOR: Shelly and Sherri
RATING: R EMAIL: qemeraldus@aol.com
DISCLAIMER: Roswell characters don't belong to us; any other characters do...
FEEDBACK: thrive on it, makes us write more...LOL
AUTHORS NOTE: This is an Alternate Universe story so we're basically making up our history as it goes along. ALSO this story will feature GRAPHIC m/m sex, with a few non-consensual scenes thrown in. If you don't like that kind of stuff, then please don't read it. Chapters that contain graphic sex will be rated NC17.



The night passed by far too quickly for Max, passing in a blur of faces and bodies and hands, as he caressed and kissed and fondled and received the same. He didn't even remember being bundled up and sent with Reynold Fiore, didn't remember being stripped and tucked into bed like a child, at Fiore's orders. All he remembered was being able to fall at last into the sweet oblivion of sleep...and to dream.

To dream of a girl that he hadn't dreamt of in a long time. A girl that he had never met, a girl that he didn't know outside of his dreams. A figment of his imagination, he had always been sure, that had appeared to him in his deepest, darkest hours in the facility he'd grown up in, that had come when he needed most warmth and compassion. Sharing his pain and fear, offering what she could to soothe it. Over the years he had felt her presence less and less, as a mind and spirit damaged by the torment he suffered closed itself off in self defense, shutting her out as well. She had changed, as he had, and in his dream she was a shining white presence, radiating confidence and strength, her spirit so bright that he had shied away from her, not wanting to taint her. But she would not be denied, enfolding him in her embrace, whispering into his ear, come to me...

He awoke with those words ringing in his ears, to look in confusion around the opulent bedroom. Not the bedroom that he shared with Domino but a strange one, done in the soft understated Victorian style, rather than the stark modern style Domino liked. Covered in a richly decorated quilt, which he pushed aside so that he could slip out of the bed. A robe was laid across the foot of the sleigh bed and he shrugged it on, the black silk a sensual caress against his skin.

Tying the sashes closed, Max ventured slowly across the bedroom and to the bathroom, eyes flicking warily around the room but seeing that it was empty save for him. In the bathroom he found clothing laid out for him on the sink, a turquoise silk dress shirt and black trousers, and he slipped out of the robe to set it beside the clothing before he went to use the shower.

The hot water was still going strong even after he had scrubbed himself thoroughly and washed hair and he stepped out, grabbing a towel to dry himself off before he went to dress. No underwear, which of course shouldn't be a terrible surprise, he thought sourly. Once dressed he combed hair that was getting too long and stood for a moment before the sink, staring at his reflection.

Looked into weary, defeated amber eyes, the eyes of someone resigned to his fate, someone not caring of what happened to him, who had given up the fight. Someone that didn't have any reason to live...

In the mirror appeared the image of the girl, golden hair falling softly down past her shoulders, and she reached up a hand to stroke it slowly down his cheek, slipping her arms around him to hold him tightly to her. She laid her head on his shoulder and he closed his eyes tightly against the tears that filled them, feeling the comforting warmth of her body against his, as if she were really here. The brush of her cheek against his hair and the soft murmur of her voice, telling him that he *did* have a reason to live...he had *her*....

A knock to the bathroom door and his eyes flew open, to find himself alone in the bathroom. Max blinked in confusion and shivered, wrapping arms tightly around himself. Slowly he went to open the bathroom door, to find the tall black woman standing on the other side of it.

Long of limb and leanly muscled, elaborate tattoos swirling across her shaven scalp, she regarded him appreciatively, running tongue over full lips. "Hungry, sweet thing?" she asked, her voice an intimate, husky purr, and grasped his arm when he didn't answer, pulling him with her out of the bathroom and the bedroom.

Their destination was the dining room, where Reynold Fiore sat at the head of the table, the other two of his entourage sitting to his left and right. Reynold beamed as Max was lead into the dining room and gestured for the Indian sitting at his left--tall and thickly muscled, ebony hair caught in a pony tail--to give Max his seat. The Indian lifted his plate to carry it to the next seat and the black woman escorted Max to the chair, giving him a parting squeeze to one buttock before she went to take her own seat, next to the Asian.

As soon as Max was seated, a man in a white coat appeared to set a plate before him, a bacon and cheese omelet with toast. Max took up fork and ate slowly, uncomfortable under the weight of four pairs of eyes.

"We haven't been formally introduced." said Reynold, sipping his coffee as he turned his wheelchair a little, so that he could face Max. "I am Reynold Fiore. The lovely lady there is Celia. Simon is to your left..." he nodded to the Indian and then to the Asian across the table. "And that is Shiro. You will of course become much better acquainted with them." added Reynold with a lewd chuckle. Draining his coffee, he set the cup down on the table and used the controls on his wheelchair to reverse it away from the table, moving it around Max's chair. "Bring him to my bedroom at 2:00. No touching till then..."

Celia pouted, popping a piece of bacon in her mouth, and rose from her chair to go around the table, trailing fingers across the back of Max's shoulders before laying her hand on Simon's shoulder. He got up as well, shoving a last piece of toast in his mouth, and took her hand, letting her lead him out of the dining room. Leaving Max with just Shiro, who cast him an amused glance as he drank from his glass of orange juice.

"Your virtue is safe with me." said Shiro dryly, smiling as Max averted his eyes. Studied the boy as Max ate his breakfast and suppressed a sigh. He was not like the others that Domino had sent to them; for all his beauty and sexuality, there was still a sense of almost childlike innocence to him. An incongruous thought, considering his profession, but there it was. As if he were not completely lost to the life...and could yet be saved.

Shiro shook his head at that fanciful notion, his smile turning rueful. Why he should care what happened to the boy, he didn't know. There hadn't been anyone to save him from this life; why should he concern himself with saving this boy? But all the same he found himself saying, "When you are done, perhaps you'd like to take a tour of the grounds with me?"

Max lifted his head to regard him with wary eyes, fork clenched tightly in one hand, and Shiro gave him a friendly smile in return, striving to look as harmless as possible. Slowly Max nodded and returned to his breakfast as Shiro poured himself some more juice. He would show Max the grounds and try to prepare him for what he would undergo tonight.

End of part 14

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