Chapter Text
They told him he was born this way. He needed to accept himself. Come to terms with who he was. It was natural, it wasn't wrong, despite how much his instincts screamed the opposite. His hair stood on edge, and though his body responded to the commands, his mind rebelled. He felt the weight of the domination pressing down on him, closing in on him, suffocating him. This wasn't right, his mind yelled at him as the Dom yanked on him hair painfully, pressing his mouth farther down on his length. He felt like gagging, his parents hadn't told him this was what it would be like. They told him fairy tales about subs and their Doms, love stories, stories about holding hands and sweet kisses and, and...
A tear escaped the corner of his eye as the Dom pushed himself down his throat, gagging him. His tiny body was already covered in bruises, shadows of malnutrition showing in his ribcage. He refused to accept this. He wasn't made for this, no person was. He wouldn't give in. They wouldn't break him. He would never, never willfully submit to anyone, ever again.
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Five Years Later
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Sebastian palmed a roll, shoving it in the pocket of his tux for later. One had to be prudent, after all. The only reason he was getting food now was because he was the escort sub of the coordinator of the event. The Gala for the Restoration of the Dominion of the Dominant. He snorted into his glass of champagne that he had flirted his way into having. Subs weren't allowed such delicacies. At least not at an even like the Gala. The entire point of the gala was to raise awareness about the ARDD. Administration for the Restoration of the Dominion of the Dominant. Even the name was obnoxiously pretentious. Their goal was to restore subs to their rightful place, and strip them of all rights, once more giving full power to Doms, as if they didn't have enough already. Subs were just state-ordained slaves. Even after a decade, he still wasn't sure which word the small 's' branded on the skin between his thumb and index finger stood for. Submissive or slave? He rubbed his other thumb over it, in an unconscious gestured he'd had for years. It was a reminder of his place.
A bell tinkled daintily, signaling the start of dinner, and he downed the rest of his commandeered champagne glass and went to find his Dom for the night. When Sebastian spotted him, he frowned slightly. Eckhard was already making his way past tipsy. Tonight would just be positively wonderful, he thought derisively. He made his way to the table and took his place kneeling at the feet of Eckhard's chair, grimacing when he felt fingers tangle in his hair what he guessed was supposed to be a soothing manner. It didn't even register with his sub instincts. He had suppressed them for so long that only direct commands made with conviction had any effect on him anymore. Not that it mattered. He was a sub for hire. He had no say. He got pimped out on a daily (and nightly) bases to the Dom who owned his claim. That's just the way it was. He knew there was another world out there, one where subs went to school, got educations, met normal people, had magnificent claiming ceremonies that were a time of celebration... But Sebastian hadn't been a part of that world for a long time. Not since his parents died.
Before that life had been good. He had gone to one of the top schools in Ohio, with regular trips to France every summer. His mother had read him bed time stories when he was little, and his father had taught him to play soccer. Even as a child he knew he had it good. He should've known it wouldn't last. When he was twelve, his parents died in a freak plane crash, and he got sent to his Uncle Damian. His uncle sold his claim to his first pimp two days after the funeral.
Those first six months had been hell. He'd just been a boy, scared and afraid and confused. He couldn't have understood what was happening to him. He wasn't strong enough to fight the compulsion to follow orders, to do every nasty disgusting thing they told him to. Now, of course, he was a pro at it. He had trained himself so well that the Dom couldn't even tell he wasn't in control. Sebastian was. He could pretend, he was a fabulous actor after all, but he never let his instincts take control. That was his number one rule. He never had and he never would. He was stronger than that. He was stronger than them.
The hand on his neck yanked him to attention and he bit back his snarl, fighting the urge to tense up. His head was pulled backwards at an awkward angle. He couldn't turn either way, just stare out across the table at the Doms eyeing him with lust in their eyes. "Master?" He drawled, his voice oozing contempt. Not a good idea, it never was, but sometimes he just couldn't help it. The hand tightened in his hair and he did wince this time. Eckhard loomed over him, his eyes gleaming with lust and alcohol.
"We're going to give the Board a demonstration of a proper sub, Sebastian."
He eyed Eckhard warily. He had done exhibition before, but he hadn't really figured this would be that kind of event. His hands went to the buttons of his dress shirt, before Eckhard slapped them away. "Not here, you imbecile," He whispered fervently. "Sebastian," he said, louder now, projecting his voice to the entire crowd. "is a sub. He's a very bad sub. Isn't it my right, no, my duty to punish him as I see fit? These new "progressive" laws take that right away from us! How can we have order and stability if there is no one controlling the weaker half of our country?" The crowd was getting swept up into the fervent energy Eckhard was pouring into his speech. Sebastian just rolled his eyes. This was pathetic. The laws simply required every claiming to be accompanied by a contract that was approved by the newly formed Department for Submissive Protection. It really wasn't a big deal. So you weren't allowed to beat your sub. Boo hoo. These people sickened him. He was tired of being a punching bag. He was tired of being a sex toy. He was a person, for fuck's sake. "Sebastian, kneel," Eckhard continued. Sebastian just looked at him, suddenly fed up.
"No."
The crowd grew quiet, and Eckhard seemed flabbergasted. Subs didn't disobey. They couldn't. It wasn't in their nature to be confrontational. Whispers started to scatter through the hall, and he watched as his temporary Dom's face grew a steamy red. "Excuse me?" Eckhard asked, almost comically. What was this a hallmark romcom? "I said no." Sebastian said loudly and clearly. He could feel his neck begin to prickle and the long-absent weight of dominance beginning to build in his chest. He hadn't felt anyone's dominance in ages. Fuck, how long did Eckhard have him for? It was 8 o'clock now. Eckhard had him for twelve more hours. Fuck. His fist began to clench as the pressure to submit kept growing. "I don't support this cause," he said, his teeth grinding.
"I don't believe I care. Get. On. Your. Knees," Eckhard growled, waves of dominance pouring out of him. Sebastian's body tensed as the command washed over him, his sub nature bursting out of the cage he had locked it in so long ago. His legs fell out from underneath him and he crashed to the floor, panting heavily. "Do you see what our world is coming too?!" Eckhard yelled, much to the approval of the spectators. Some were even standing up to applaud him. He went on, raving about the dangers of a willful sub, but Sebastian couldn't hear any of it. His ears roared as his submission swirled throughout him, reveling in it's newfound release. Betrayed by his own body, he thought, trying to breathe through the dizziness. Everything started to roar, and his vision grayed then began to blur, until everything finally went black.