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Jul 23, 2019 1:33 PM
Billionaire Lev makes new and exciting bad decisions.
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"Sir, I'll take Sasha to get dressed," Chris says. 

When they're alone and Sasha is putting on his clothes, Chris says, "he has a good eye."

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"Thank you, sir." 

Lev Aarons also has no clue what he's doing. Sasha does not say this out loud to Chris, who already knows. 

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"Most owners with that little experience would not pay top dollar for a Parker-trained slave with a well-rounded skillset. They'd buy someone pretty who can suck cock and be confused about why all their contracts ended after six months." His lips pursed. "I would not sell you if I had concerns about your safety."

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"Thank you, sir," he says again. It's the first real smile he's had all day. 

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"If I find out you have insulted a person in Chinese again," Parker says without rancor, "if you return to me for additional training I will spend the first two months finding better uses for your mouth. Perhaps cleaning boots."

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"Of course, sir." 

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Normally, Parker gives one of his rare words of praise at this time. 

Sasha, however, insulted a potential owner during the auction. The silence is conspicuous as they return to Lev.

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Yes. That's not unexpected. He doesn't shrink. He kind of wants to. He runs his teeth over the inside of his lip, doesn't bite. He clings a little bit to "He has a good eye." 

He's perfectly composed by the time they're in front of Lev again. 

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Lev smiles at him. "You look nice!"

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"Thank you, Lev." He's still pronouncing Lev like Sir. 

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Lev doesn't comment on it. 

Chris gives Lev a single nod and takes his leave. 

"I'm sorry," Lev says when they're by themselves, "this is terribly awkward and I have no idea what I'm doing. Uh. Permission to speak freely or whatever? --Please do, I kinda need you to tell me if I'm about to fuck this up irrepairably."

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"I don't know what it is you're aiming for." He represses the impulse to add sir to the end of the sentence. 

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He switches to Spanish. "Uh. Well. I was intending to buy someone pretty and experienced to cook me dinner and suck my cock and then you cursed at a lady in Chinese and I found myself buying a novice specialty slave I don't actually have any use for. I do not exactly make the best decisions."

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great. 

He doesn't even have any work. 

He doesn't even have any fucking work for him. 

"I'm still not sure what it is specifically you're trying to avoid fucking up." 

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"Having a slave at all?"

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Give me translation work. 

"I think part of the point is that you decide." 

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"...Probably we shouldn't be having this conversation in public. Let's go to my car."

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He follows Lev to his car and waits for Lev to indicate which seat he should take. 

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He sits in the back. His driver is, quite obviously, not a slave. "Sit next to me."

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He does. He keeps his eyes lowered. 

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"The conversation we're having right now," Lev says, still in Spanish, "is the longest conversation I've had that isn't related to work in... several months. I am anxious and strange and I do not have friends nor have I ever had friends. I bought a slave because... I need someone to talk to."

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Literally why would you buy a slave because you need someone to talk to. 

"Okay," he says instead of that. 

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"I work a lot so much of your time will be your own," he says. "I'd like the house kept clean enough that I don't have to think about it. I'd like meals to appear regularly without me having to think about them, I have a list of my food preferences. I speak Spanish, Tagalog and Vietnamese and it would be nice to have someone to practice with; my Chinese is atrocious, I'd like lessons; I'd also like to learn Russian." He sighs. "Also, of course, I'd like to fuck you and beat the shit out of you on a fairly regular basis."

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"I don't happen to speak Vietnamese but I can pick it up." That'll be good, that's using his skills. "I'm not trained as a tutor but I will of course try anyway. You own me, you can have sex with me and beat me as much as you like." 

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"I'd rather you pick up Tagalog first, I get even less chance to use it than the Vietnamese and I'm afraid I'm getting rusty." He rests his head on Sasha's shoulder.

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