For the Third Annual “Cuff ‘Em, Vamp ‘Em, or Just Make ‘Em Come Already Kink and Cliché Multi-Fandom Challenge

My assigned prompt: Slavefic.

Fandom: CSI

Characters: Nick and Greg

Word count: 10,260

Rating: PG-13 for actual content…but mind the warning!

Warning: This is slavefic, people, wildly AU. If the idea squiggs you out, don’t open, please. This is me, so it’s vanilla slavefic…but slavefic non-the-less.

Summary: Nick’s parents give him an unexpected gift.

“A Sensible Choice”

Part One of Three

1: The Gift

Nick straightened with a groan. The cramping muscle in his back wasn’t letting go this time. Every minute activity got harder and harder; each night it was more difficult to sleep. He had been told to rest, to get help with the hard work of trying to bring his run-down place back to a working ranch. Where he was going to find that help, or pay for it, was neatly left unsaid.

Now he struggled to get the sitting area of his little cabin somewhat presentable. His parents had called. They had something important to discuss with him. They would be arriving soon, and one look at the pigsty he’d been wallowing in would be enough of an excuse to pack Nick back down the mountain to the family estate. If he could just bend enough to get the dishes cleared off the coffee table… “Ah, ah shit. That hurts, Jesus that hurts.” Nick was doomed. He was suffering visibly, and his parents’ car had just pulled up outside.

“My God, Bill! This isn’t anymore than a line shack! He can’t be serious about spending the winter out here!” Oh hell, his mom was going to freak! “Now Jillian, don’t start. Nick wants to make his own way. You know how independent he is. Besides, he’s been out here the better part of four years with no harm done. He’ll be fine. Another year of primitive living won’t kill him. If he gets into any trouble, he’ll call. He’s sensible, you know that.” Sensible wouldn’t be trying to move cattle on horseback three hours after being told to put his feet up and rest. No, sensible didn’t really describe him at all.

Nick had slowly made his way to the front door. He tried to straighten his aching back but he knew his mom was going to see right through him the moment she was inside. Doomed.

“Mom, Dad. I’m glad you could come up! I’ve missed you.” Nick made an attempt to blindside them with friendliness.

“Child, what in the world is wrong with your back?” Jillian was already reaching for Nick. “Don’t!” Nick barked, jerking back from her concerned touch. “Ow, oh shit, oh hell…” Nick’s sudden move just made the agony all the more intense.

“Jillian, get his things together. I’ll go out to the car and call for some of the men to come run things here for a week or so. Nick, sit down. We’ll be taking you home with us.” As a superior court judge, his father was used to taking decisive action, and being obeyed.

“I’m fine, Dad. I just need to rest my back for a few days. I’ve already talked to a doctor. It’s really no big deal!” As usual, all choice was taken out of Nick’s hands as his parents flew into action. Within ten minutes, the Stokes where all on the way back towards town. Just two hours after that, the family doctor was looking him over.

“You’ve got some pretty serious bruising and muscle spasms, Nick. What happened?” The doctor was older than dirt, and had a terrible bedside manner, but Nick had always loved him. Even now he still felt a fondness for the old curmudgeon. “I fell off my horse.” Nick was not exactly thrilled to be admitting that, but it wasn’t as though Doc wouldn’t figure it out on his own. “Snake spooked him, and down I went. Hurts like the devil!”

“I can well imagine it does. Fortunately, no bones are broken, but you need rest.” Seeing his young patient ready to argue with him, Doc raised an age-spotted hand. “No buts, Nick. You’re lucky this isn’t a lot worse. Bed rest for two days, and gentle rest for two more.” Nick scowled, but lay back on the pillow. “I’ll leave something for your pain, and see that you take it! I’ll check back in four days.” It was useless to argue. They always won. Four days away! With winter was closing in fast. There was so much to do, and no way to do it all before the snows closed off the passes, effectively trapping him and his herds in the high country.

With Doc gone, Jillian poked her head into Nick’s childhood room. “Want some soup? Tilley made it fresh, just for you.” The ranch’s resident cook could have been a five-star chef in any Dallas hotel. The Stokes paid dearly to keep her happy and with them. Nick missed Tilley’s cooking as much as he missed his folks. “Sure, mom. That’d be great. Thank her for me, won’t you?” Tilley was the only free woman working on the ranch, and as such expected the social niceties the slaves wouldn’t receive. Nick was okay with the polite side of society, though he was just as apt to thank the indentured servants as the freemen.

Nick didn’t keep slaves. If he were willing to do so, his work problem would be solved. But just because a man could be sold into service instead of being sent to the over-taxed prison system didn’t make it the moral, ethical thing to do. His was not a popular stand within his family. He alone refused to own slaves. He alone hated that the practice of keeping them was so prevalent in Texas. That stance, coupled with his openly stated preference for male sexual partners had pretty much isolated him from the majority of his family. His immediate family was more forgiving. Sometimes Nick wished they weren’t.

As judge, his father sentenced dozens of people each week into misery. Non-violent criminals, prostitutes, and the like. Poor bastards that fell into debt and where unable to make their obligations could be sold like a repossessed house. Worse yet, a man could sell his wife or children-even his adult children, so long as they were single-to clear his debt. Most vile of all, young people were regularly sold for the sexual gratification of their purchasers. Nick felt that forced compliance in bed was no different than rape, and no law could make that right.

To Nick, it was an evil system, and he wanted nothing to do with it. It was the main reason he’d bought his little ‘ranchetta’ in the mountains. It got him out of a household almost entirely run by people who had no choice, and received no thanks or remuneration for all their hard work, and out of the shadow of one of the systems biggest advocates.

The second day of bed rest was even more difficult to bear then the first. Nick tried to find a position that didn’t press painfully on some section of skin or another without success. He was ready to make a try for the easy chair in the corner when his father knocked on the doorjamb.

“Busy?” Bill Stokes smiled at his own sly joke, stepping into the room. “I need to talk to you, son.” Nick had been expecting this. This would be the important talk his folks had come to his place for. He thought Bill might hold off until he was out of bed, but that was not to be.

“What about?” Like he didn’t know. “If you’re going to try to get me to stay down here for the winter, give it up now. I’ve got cattle up there. I know, I know, my little herd is nothing like yours. But they are mine. Bought and paid for by me, and I aim to keep them alive!”

“Woe, woe there. I know how much your place means to you.” Judge Stokes held placating hands up between them. “I imagine your mother would prefer you to stay, but I know you can’t.” Nick relaxed into his pillow with a grunt. Damn, it hurt! “You won’t like what I have to say any better, though.” That almost pulled Nick back up to a sitting position.

“I’m not buying slaves! We’ve been over that ground before!” Nick would not be swayed. He would not own a human soul! “Don’t think this injury will change my opinions on that!”

His father’s sigh was enough to quiet Nick. He waited with as much patience as he could muster for Bill to begin. “You know your mother and I love you.” A nod from Nick was encouragement for Bill to continue. “And we have adjusted ourselves to the fact that you won’t be marrying any of the girls she’s been throwing at you for the last few years.” Another nod, accompanied by a small smile. “But we worry. You’re alone in those mountains all winter. I know you’ve got the short-wave and your cell, but we worry.” Here the normally rock-sure man seemed at a loss for words, “And then there’s the whole life-style thing.” Nick quirked an eyebrow at his flustered father, “Life-style?”

“Well, you know. God, this was easier when it was just the ‘birds and the bees’ talk!” The judge huffed out a breath and started again. “Your choice of life-style can be dangerous. There are diseases no one ever heard of out there, and the gay community is at risk. You’re at risk. Frankly son, we’re scared.” Nick could understand their concern, but the turn of this conversation was beginning to make him very wary.

“Okay, I get that. What’s this all about?” The unhappy look on his father’s face was escalating Nick’s unease. “Dad? Spill.”

“Your mother and I…we…that is…ah, hell!” Bill drew in a big breath, “We bought you a sex slave.” The air fairly whooshed out of his lungs with that admission. “It seemed sensible. He’s clean, and exclusively yours. It’s the most sensible choice. It will solve a lot of problems, and ease your mother’s worry.” Seeing Nick’s readiness to fight, he rushed on. “Before you refuse, you should know we’ve already had him marked. He’ll be delivered to you when you go back home.”

Marking was just one more of the things Nick hated about the Indentured Servant Law. Men branded their cattle, not their fellow human beings. It just shouldn’t be done, and yet his father was telling him that not only had his parents bought and branded a young man, but they had done it for him! There didn’t seem to be enough air in the room.

“You can’t be serious! You know how I feel about that stuff! You know! You can’t have done that! My God, please tell me this is some kind of a sick joke!” Nick felt nauseous. This couldn’t be happening to him!

“His name is Greg. He’s just a few years younger than you.” Judge Stokes rushed to explain before Nick could drag in enough air to protest more. “He’s voluntarily in the system to relieve the debt of his grandfather. They’re from the west coast, but the creditor is here in Dallas, so he went to our courts for dispersion.” This couldn’t be real; Nick must have taken too many muscle relaxants.

“You don’t have to feel guilty, Nick. He’s of legal age, and he signed the papers willingly. He didn’t want his father or grandfather to end up in the system.” Bill went in for the kill. “You at least will treat him with respect and kindness. If you send him back through, bearing another man’s mark, what kind of place do you think he’d end up in?” The market for marked sex slaves was small, and less-than kind-hearted individuals usually purchased them. There was no law saying you had to treat your slaves’ humanely, and many an animal had a more pleasant life than the indentured did. Bill knew there was no way Nick could live with sending someone to such a fate.

“It’s for your own good, Nick. You’ll see. By agreeing to be a Personal Gratification Servant, the boy was able to cancel the whole debt; no property was lost. He’s doing a good thing for his family.” That bit of information did nothing to soften the hardness of Nick’s jaw or the flint in his dark eyes.

“I’m going to go home now. I may have to accept this Greg, ‘cause I couldn’t stand the alternative, but I will never use him and I’ll never, ever forgive you for this.” Nick struggled to his feet. He’d get one of the hands to take him back home. He wouldn’t spend another day under this roof, nor ever willing enter here again, he was sure.

Back Home

Nick scraped together what funds he could spare to hire his neighbors two teenaged sons to bunch his cattle in a near by hollow. The natural corral had enough grass and water to sustain the herd for a few days. He’s made arrangements with the boys to drive some hay out to them if he wasn’t feeling able to do so himself after that. The representatives from the buyers co-op would be through this section of Texas in about four weeks. He just had to hold it together that long. He had spent the last few days resting as much as possible and ignoring the almost constant phone calls from his folks.

Today the doctor had been back, and grudgingly cleared him for some outside work. “Remember the pain you were in, son. Don’t do something stupid and end up like that, or worse, again.” The old man was curious about Nick’s rift with his parents, but didn’t want to ask. He figured he’d hear all about it soon enough. Nothing stayed secret in these parts for long. “Call me if you want a refill on the pain meds. I don’t have a problem with letting you have more, I know you’ve been careful. For goodness sake, don’t push yourself! Get somebody up here to help you!” Nick rolled his eyes. Doc figured he’d pushed about as much as he could, and stood to go. “I mean it, Nick. Call day or night if the pain increases from the level it’s at now. Hear me?” Nick nodded like an obedient child and rose stiffly to see the doctor to the door.

“I’ll be fine. I’m mostly just stiff.” That was not quite a lie. He was stiff; he also hurt like hell when the pills wore off. Nick’s attention was diverted to the rough road leading to his cabin. A vehicle was struggling over the ruts, making its way to his door. “Damn.” He’d hoped that the doctor would be long gone before he took delivery of his parents ‘gift’. That was not to be.

The doctors raised eyebrows when the cars occupants exited would have been comical under other circumstances. As it was, Nick fought to control his urge to try to convince the old man the whole thing was a huge misunderstanding. But, considering the person in question was standing with two bailiffs in his front lawn, that statement would seem somewhat absurd.

“So this is what the fight is about.” The doctors’ eyes were kind when they turned to Nick. “They’ve been worried about you for a long time. I wondered what they’d come up with.” He turned his attention back to the trio making their way to the porch, “Didn’t really expect a sex slave, excuse me, a “Personal Gratification Servant” though. Explains some things. Good looking kid.” With a teasing leer and a nod of farewell, Doc started off to his own car. Nick sighed. This was going to be all over town before sundown.

“Mr. Stokes?” Bailiff number one held out a clipboard to Nick. “Initial on line twelve and sign at the bottom to show delivery has been made.” So far, the young man being sold into slavery had yet to raise his eyes to see the one taking possession of him. Nick sighed again and signed, dated, initialed and anything else required for the paperwork to be finished. “Have a nice day,” was Bailiff number two’s only contribution to the morning. They left the way they had come, leaving Nick alone with his new companion.

“My folks told me your name is Greg. Is that right?” Still he did not lift his eyes. “Yes, sir.” Soft voice, California inflection. Greg stood still, waiting to be told what Nick wanted him to do. “It’s getting chilly out here. Let’s go inside.” Greg stepped forward to join Nick on the porch. “It’s going to be alright, Greg. Honestly, you have nothing to fear from me.” “Yes, sir” was the only response Nick got.

Going inside the tiny cabin, Nick was struck with how shabby it must look to Greg, how unlike what he had to be expecting. “Not much to look at, is it?” Nick tried to engage the young man some how. To get his eyes up, anyway. “No, sir.” Oh well, perhaps he shouldn’t expect much this soon.

“I have no intentions of forcing sexual intimacy on you. If you’re concerned about that, you don’t have to be.” No reaction. “Look, it could work out that you’re here. I hurt my back a few days back, and need some help around here for a while. I’ll expect you to do some chores and help with repairs. I’ll be respectful of you and your person, and I expect the same back.” Nick’s wandering eyes landed on his narrow bed. “I don’t have a place for you to sleep right now, and I’m sorry I didn’t think of that before now. For the next few weeks, until I can sell my cattle, funds are tight. After that, I’ll see that you get your own bed.” Greg nodded, eyes glued to the old floorboards.

“One more thing. When I speak to you, I want you to look at me.” A pair of luminous brown eyes met his. “We’re both adults, grown men. I don’t believe in slavery, but my parents do. You’re here now, and I won’t have you treated worse by sending you away. I know you can’t possibly believe me yet, and that’s okay. I’ll say it again; you have nothing to fear from me.” The eyes holding his had not wavered. They were guarded, unreadable to Nick. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Nick.” The eyes turned quizzical. “Call me Nick. Not sir…just Nick.” Nick took one more look around the small space. “Where are the rest of your clothes?”

“I’m sorry, sir…Nick. I wasn’t sent with anything other than what I’m wearing.” Greg looked embarrassed, like he’d failed some fundamental test he didn’t know he was taking.

“That’s alright.” Nick mentally calculated if there was enough extra in the bank to at least get some work boots and a heavy coat for Greg. The rest they could jury-rig from things Nick no longer wore. “We’ll get a few things in town tomorrow, and I’ve no doubt got some things that will come close to fitting.” He knew he could get some things for him from his folks, but Nick would rather go into debt then ask for one thing from them. Greg was quite a bit thinner than Nick, and a bit taller. Maybe the two would balance out and his hand-me-down jeans wouldn’t be high waters. In any case they would have to do until the cattle sold.

Nick had been hoping for a good price on the herd. They had the look of prime stock, and should fetch top dollar. He’d invested all he had in hopes of a large return. Nick had originally intended to use the profits to rebuild the barns and maybe put in some needed amenities in the cabin. Now, looking at Greg’s pale face, he doubted any of that would happen. A plan was beginning to formulate in Nick’s head; it was rough, but if he could, he’d make it work. It was something to think about besides how attractive his new housemate was, because thinking about that was going to get him into trouble.

“It gets dark early this high up. We’d better get some fire wood in, or it’ll be damn cold before dawn.” Nick took a heavy fleece hoodie from the hook behind the door and handed it to Greg. “Put this on. Use it until I get you something of your own.” He grabbed his own jacket and led the way outside. “You ever chop wood before?” Greg shook his head. “Well then, you’re in for a treat!”