His

Chapter twenty-seven

Ace's point of view

I get pushed into their car by my head, but they don't have to push me. I get in willingly. I'm kinda glad I'm going somewhere new, though my last place wasn't that bad. My so called "owner" didn't' treat me bad after he found out I'm a good boy.

To be honest, I'm pretty proud of myself. I've been in this system for a few years now, and I'm doing quite well. I don't get punished a lot, owners like me, sometimes even take me out and let me have some fun.

As far as I know, it might even be better than how my life could have been.

"How old are you Ace?" The voice of Mr Collins goes through the car, while he's still looking straight at the road. I look up a bit, and say "I'm 18, sir." Then I look down again, not knowing if I have, or even need permission to look at him.

For a second I think he's not going to reply, I mean why would he? It's just me, it's not like I expect him to reply.. But then I hear his voice again. "Alright.. Well you can look where you want, just don't talk too much."

Surprised, I take a look around the car. Mr Collins is sitting in the front seat, and next to him is Ms Brown staring out of her window. One hand is under her chin, and the other is on her slightly round stomach.

'Oh my god, I love that she's pregnant' I think to myself. It means these new owners are a couple, and that they love each other. They are looking for someone who will stay with them for a long time, and who can take care of not only their house, but also their kid.

I can't believe I'm actually having a chance of becoming that person. I love kids, I always have. They're so pure and loving and cute.. They make me feel so mature, which I like. I like that, because I've always been the lower one, the one that had to obey, that didn't have much choice, that always had to be scared.

Shaking my head, I try to shake away the thoughts. Don't think about your past, that's over now. Blinking a few times, I end up back in reality; to find out Ms Brown is looking at me with one raised eyebrow.

I smile kindly at her, then squirm in my seat. I roll my shoulders a few times, trying to get out of the uncomfortable position. My hands are still cuffed on my back, and there's a rope wrapped around my neck tightly.

"Do you want me to loosen it a bit?" Ms Brown asks. "Well only if you want me to be able to breathe" I try to joke, not succeeding. She smiles bitterly, and turns back around in her seat. I sigh mentally, this time I really want to try not to fuck up again.

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"Ace come here!" Mr Collins shouts from upstairs, so I run up and slip through the open door. I sink down to my knees in front of him, and look down at the floor. I always have to be careful with new owners, since I don't know what they want from me.

"I want you to do the laundry. The hamper is in the bathroom, the washer is upstairs." he starts, then hooks his index finger under my chin and turns my face up to him. Looking into his eyes, I nod slightly. "Okay sir."

I see Ms Brown walking up behind him, and smiling at me. I smile back a little, and start playing with my own fingers. I'm so used to being tied or cuffed, that when I'm not, I can't just do.. nothing with my hands.

Chuckling, she starts talking to me. "Ace you don't have to get on your knees every time you come to us. Standing is fine, and you can look wherever you want." As I quickly get up, I nod. "Yes ma'am, t-thank you." I stutter.

I feel bad for doing something they didn't want me to, but I'm also thankful for this. At least they give me some freedom.. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go make sure you guys have some clean clothes to wear."

Both of them smile and nod at the same time. 'Why does that make them even cuter together?' I think, while walking out of the room. I hear their soft voices, while going to the bathroom, grabbing the hamper and dragging it up the stairs to the attic. There's two doors, and I open the one on the left first.

Peeking inside, I notice this isn't the right room. It's pretty empty, but it does have some handcuffs, chains and knifes laying around. I guess I could've expected this.. Noticing the dried up blood, I close the door quickly, and turn to the other door.

Before even looking what's inside, I walk in. I knew this had to be the right door anyway.. Smiling, I look around. The walls are painted white, and one is black. Against the black wall, there's a washer and a dryer next to it.

On another wall, there's a table to fold laundry on. There's a square painted on the floor, and when I put the hamper on it, it fits perfectly. There's some shelves with stuff you need to do the laundry.

Great, let's get started..

As I start putting the laundry in the washer, I think back at a few years ago. I still lived with mother.. And Alyssa was my girlfriend. A shiver runs down my back, just thinking about this.

I remember that one day, I woke up with Alyssa by my side. We were at her house, and I immediately started stressing. The night before, I begged Alyssa to let me go home. My mom told me to be home at 10, but my girlfriend wouldn't let me leave.

She said she needed me, she wouldn't be able to sleep without me. She told me that if I really wanted to go home, I had to beg. So I went down on my knees, and begged her with tears rolling down my cheeks.

All she did was laugh, then pull me onto the bed and cuff my hands to the bed. So I wouldn't try to sneak out in the night, she said. I cried myself to sleep, and the next morning I was scared to death. She finally let me go home after we had sex - well, after she fucked me - and when I came home mother was sitting there behind the kitchen table, staring at me.

I remember shaking so bad, being so scared. Now I'm not scared anymore. I'm never scared.. I still remember what it's like though, but I think I just unlearned how to be scared or something.

After that night, I couldn't go to school for the next month. Partly because I couldn't walk, but also because mother didn't want anyone to know about what she did to me. She always covered the bruises with foundation, and she used cream on me to heal the scars.

Now I'm thankful for that, I don't have any scars left. Even after she kicked me out, and my first owner found me and got me into the system, I didn't get any lasting scars.

Lost in my thoughts, I close up the washer and turn it on. Realizing I'm done, I look at the clock. When I know when I have to come back to put everything in the dryer, I stand up. As I look into the mirror that's hanging on the wall, I stroke my hand through my hair.

I smile, this new adventure will be fun. At least it will be better than going back to mother, that's for sure.