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U/D 24 Oct NC-17 You Don't Mean Anything - Pierre FanFic

  • Some of you may remember the beginning of this fic. I started it back on SimplePlanOnline, back in 2007. I still haven't finished it. But here we go right from the beginning.

    R-NC-17 for content, themes, sex, profanity etc.

    YOU DON'T MEAN ANYTHING

    Pierre Bouvier, lead singer of Simple Plan is disillusioned, feeling that he has no control in his life. Then whilst the band is performing at Montreal's annual slave festival...he decides to take matters into his own hands, and buys himself a slave...not realising that it will be the beginning of something new.

    Note: This story is written in Four Acts.

    Act One: Acquisition
    Act Two: Catch the tears and wash them all away
    Act Three: "I can wait forever for you to submit to me..."
    Act Four: Happiness is a warm gun

    Act One: Part One

    Saturday June 2nd, 2007

    Laval, Montreal

    Annual Slave Market

    Noon

    In Laval, the slave markets are the one place you don?t expect to see a pop-punk band. However, Pierre Bouvier was not one of those men who particularly cared what people thought. He insisted that Simple Plan get a place on the bill at the annual slave markets, because his older brother, Jonathan, was on the board of the Guild of Dominants and Submissives.

    Of course, he had his own motives for wanting to be on site. At 28 he was feeling disillusioned. Pierre had to have something in his life, other than his band, that he could control. Because, in truth he really couldn?t control what happened in the band.

    Success in the music industry depended on public demand, and often on record sales. He wanted something that he could take complete control of. Purchasing a slave seemed like the best way to gain that control.

    He didn?t know what the others thought; well he knew that Chuck would approve of his decision. But, how the others would feel about it was something he hadn?t really stopped to think about. Probably because he felt that it wouldn?t matter. They were like brothers to him and he figured they would support him, regardless. It wouldn?t matter if he did the most horrendous, outrageous thing, they?d stick by him.

    Currently, Pierre, Sebastien, Jeff and David were setting their levels for the afternoon gig. It was an extremely hot day; all four guys had towels hanging over their shoulders, which they used to wipe the sweat from their face and hands.

    ?Damn?is it just me?or is it too fucking hot to play??

    Pierre stood in the middle of the stage, attempting to set the levels on his acoustic. His fingers slipped on the tuning pegs and he was beginning to get frustrated. David wasn?t helping matters, tossing picks at Sebastien whilst the guitarist was splashing water at Jeff.

    ?Desrosiers, will you stop that? It?s fucking annoying,? Pierre growled as he finally managed to turn the pegs, using the towel for leverage.

    David blinked. ?I?m not bothering you, Bouvier. Just set your levels.?

    ?You two are bothering me,? Jeff smirked as he tried to protect his electric guitar from Seb?s attack.

    David laughed.

    Pierre snorted as he strummed a few chords, a frown passing across his face. ?Right. I?m done.? He set his acoustic down on its stand. ?I?m going for a walk. See ya later.?

    He jumped down from the stage and wandered away leaving the rest of the band to bicker amicably amongst themselves. He passed Chuck at the catering tent.

    ?Hey, Pierre!?

    Pierre glanced back as Chuck joined him, bottle of water in hand.

    ?Hey.?

    ?Where?re you off to??

    Pierre shrugged. ?Going to see what?s on offer??

    His friend lifted an eyebrow. ?I didn?t know you were interested.?

    Gripping the hem of his black shirt, Pierre grinned crookedly. ?You learn something new every day.?

    ?Guess so?? Chuck rubbed his chin. ?Well, just be back in time for our set.?

    Pierre nodded. ?No worries.? He stood for a moment and watched as his friend walked back toward the stage; then he turned on his heel and headed for the main market.

    Jason De La Fontaine crouched by the small pen where his slave cowered in the back section. She huddled beneath the blanket cover, hiding from the sun. Her soft blue eyes stared out at the busy marketplace, fear shining in their depths.

    Long, dirty hair fell in a knotted mass over her face. Yet, through the dirt, and beneath the shabby rags that barely concealed her slim figure, she was still beautiful. Jason knew that he could get a very good price for her.

    He?d already had several prospective buyers. Except he had made the mistake of giving them the real reason for why he wanted to get rid of her. She was constantly attempting escapes. Was disobedient, refused to do what she was told.

    As soon as the buyers had heard this, they baulked and left, obviously to find a less difficult purchase. Still, Jason held out hope that he would find someone who would take her out of his hands.

    He stood up and cast his gaze over the stands close to him noticing a man, probably in his late twenties, browsing a nearby stall. He wasn?t the type of man Jason was used to seeing at the slave markets. Dressed casually in denim jeans and a black T-shirt he appeared to be better suited to a rock concert venue. Still it took all sorts to buy and sell slaves.

    He observed the man as he moved through the stalls. Shaggy dark hair cast shadows across a strong face. Dark eyes were staring critically upon the slaves at each of the stalls. However, they didn?t appear to appeal to the man as he moved on, approaching Jason?s marquee.

    ?Hey?what have you got here?? The man had a surprisingly light tone for someone who seemed so serious. Jason smiled grimly, pulling back the blanket on the pen. The man crouched down, pushing his hair from his eyes, leaning one arm against the cage. The girl shivered and lowered her eyes as he swept cool eyes over her.

    Jason slumped on his camp chair and watched the man, realising he had seen him somewhere before.

    Clearing his throat, he got his attention. ?Um?you look familiar. Have I seen you before??

    The man glanced at him, deep brown eyes narrowed. ?Probably. I?m in a band.?

    Jason scratched his cheek. ?You famous??

    He smirked. ?I guess we?ve done okay. Name?s Pierre Bouvier.? He held his hand out.

    Jason grasped it firmly. ?Frontman of Simple Plan??

    Pierre laughed. ?I prefer not being recognised as such. I?m just the lead singer. Nothing special.?

    ?Pretty important though. I always say it?s the singer who holds the band together.?

    Pierre snorted. ?I?d have to disagree. I?d say Chuck, our drummer, is who keeps the band together.? He frowned and glanced at the slave. ?I don?t have any real control in the band?not really?sure I write the lyrics and all. But I need something more.?

    Jason lifted an eyebrow. ?Is that why you?re down here??

    ?Yeah. So, tell me. She yours?? He jerked his chin at the girl in the pen. ?I wouldn?t sell her myself?had problems??

    Jason blinked at his bluntness. ?I wouldn?t exactly say that??

    Pierre chuckled. ?Don?t tell me. She keeps trying to escape and won?t obey you. Right??

    Jason just stared at him, too stunned to respond.

    ?Heh, don?t look so shocked. I hear things from my brother. Have you heard of him? Jon Bouvier.?

    Jason rubbed at his face. ?Oui, I have. He sits on the Guild council.?

    Pierre smiled then looked at her again. ?What?s her name??

    ?I call her, Margarite. It?s not her real name, but that?s not important.?

    Pierre nodded absently as he examined her through the mesh of the pen.

    Jason swallowed hard, sensing instinctively that this man could possibly be a buyer. ?Do you want a closer examination??

    Pierre frowned, thinking for a moment, casting a glance at his watch. ?Hmmm, I have time?we don?t play for another half hour.?

    ?Oh? SP?s playing a set here??

    Pierre grinned. ?Yeah, you should come.?

    ?Sure?I?ll let you have a look at her, then I?ll close up shop for awhile and come to your set.?

    ?Sounds good to me.? Pierre stood, taking a step back. Jason bent down to unlock the pen. Margarite watched him warily.

    ?C?mon girl, get out of there.?

    She shook her head a defiant glint in her eyes. She didn?t say a word. Jason cast an apologetic look toward Pierre.

    He just shrugged. ?Drag her out. She?s a slave, man. Make her come out of there.?

    Jason rolled his eyes. But he took his advice and reached in to grab her by her hair, hauling her from the cage. She yelled and clawed at him, gouging deep scratches into his arms. He slapped her hard across the face. She whimpered and fell limp in his grip.

    He lifted her up onto the wooden table he?d set up next to the pen. Pressing her down on her back, Jason seized her wrists and held them above her head.

    Pierre stepped toward the table and looked down at her. She didn?t avert her gaze, instead choosing to stare him directly in the face.

    Pierre clucked his tongue disapprovingly. ?No wonder he wants to get rid of you?? He reached down and rubbed his palm along her left shin. ?Don?t look at me.? His voice was a low dangerous growl.

    Margarite turned her head to the side and took a deep shuddering breath. Jason raised his eyebrows.

    Pierre glanced at him. ?Hmmm??

    ?She just?? Jason shook his head. ?Never mind.?

    Pierre flicked his eyes back down to the girl on the table, letting his gaze slowly travel up her slender figure. His gaze lingered on her small, pert breasts. The nipples were stiff even in the heat. He continued trailing his eyes along her body, to her face.

    She was straining to hold still, the firm muscles of her lean body, quivering. She reminded him of a greyhound he had seen at the tracks as a kid. That dog had been straining under the hand of its trainer, itching to run. Just as she was obviously wanting to get away.

    He kept his hand on her shin, slowly stroking. Margarite whimpered, and moved her leg. Pierre grabbed it and pinned it down, digging his fingers into her tender flesh. She let out a small whine. But let it lie still.

    ?Good girl,? Pierre whispered, relaxing his grip and once again stroking her limb.

    Jason blinked and took a step back wondering if he let go of her wrists she wouldn?t try to get away.

    He glanced at Pierre who smirked. ?She won?t go anywhere, dude??

    ?You sure??

    ?If she does, you can hold me entirely responsible," Pierre assured him.

    Jason nodded and let go of her arms. Margarite trembled and flicked her eyes at the two men, then something flashed in her eyes, and she twisted her body trying to get away. Jason didn?t do anything, instead waiting to see what Pierre would do.

    He didn?t move letting her roll off the table, scramble to her feet and attempt to make a dash for it. At the last second, he swung around, stooped low, grabbed her right leg at the back of her knee, and wrenched her off her feet. She sprawled across the ground at his feet.

    ?Get up.? Pierre hooked his fingers into the rags and dragged her to her feet. She was shaking, tears trickling down her face. He pushed her against the table and leaned close. ?That was stupid.?

    She whimpered. ?I?I?m sorry, sir?? Her voice was thin, afraid.

    Pierre stared down at her, expression severe. ?You?d better be sorry,? he whispered warningly. Then he released her and stepped back casting his eyes at Jason. ?How much do you want for her??

    ?Huh??

    Pierre chuckled, raking his fingers through his hair. "How much??

    ?You want her?? Jason squinted at him curiously. ?You hardly had much of a look.?

    Rubbing at his cheek, Pierre glanced up at the sky, not answering the question straight away. ?I think I?m sunburned?my cheeks feel like they?re red?? He muttered absently. The other man didn?t have a response to that, so he just waited. Pierre sighed and eventually turned his gaze back to Jason. ?How much. I?m willing to pay any price.?

    ?You?re serious??

    ?Oui. It?s obvious she needs to be taught her place.?

    ?And you think you?re the one to do it??

    Pierre shrugged, casually. ?I?ll give it a whirl. You obviously want to get rid of her.?

    ?That?s true.?

    ?So, how much??

    Jason took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

    Margarite, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, suddenly blurted out, interrupting the flow of discussion. ?No?don?t sell me to him?please?? She crumpled at Jason?s feet, grabbing the leg of his jeans and staring up imploringly at him.

    He glared down at her coldly. ?I?ll do what I want with you. You are a slave. Don?t ever forget that.?

    ?No?please?? She sobbed, desperately.

    Pierre frowned, wondering at her fear. He looked questioningly at Jason.

    ?I have no idea why she doesn?t want me to sell her to you?she wasn?t like this with any of the other prospective buyers.?

    Pierre scratched his jaw. ?It?s not like I?m all that scary either?I mean?being in a band?I can?t afford to be scary. The band would lose its fans.?

    Jason laughed. ?That?d be unfortunate.?

    ?Yeah, I read on fan sites?I?m apparently, a very nice, cute, funny guy. With not a mean bone in my body.? Pierre sighed and looked at the slave who was on the ground, crying. ?She probably just doesn?t want to leave you.?

    ?Most likely. But I?m not giving her a choice. You want her??

    ?Like I said, how much do you want for her??

    ?$3000.?

    Pierre cocked an eyebrow. ?I?ll give you $2500.?

    Jason blinked, then stuck out his hand. ?Done.?

    They shook hands. Then he turned and grabbed Margarite firmly by the arm, pushing her back into the cage. Taking a sign, he stuck it across the door: SOLD.

    Locking the cage, he swung back to face Pierre. ?Guess you gotta get to your set??

    ?Merde.? Pierre glanced at his watch. ?I?d better go?otherwise Chuck?ll rip me a new one?I?ll come back here after.?

    Casting a long glance at the girl in cage, where she was huddled in the corner sobbing uncontrollably, Pierre smiled faintly then turned on his heel and headed back to the stage.

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on 07 May '10

Some of you may remember the beginning of this fic. I started it back on SimplePlanOnline, back in 2007. I still haven't finished it. But here we go right from the beginning.

R-NC-17 for content, themes, sex, profanity etc.

YOU DON'T MEAN ANYTHING

Pierre Bouvier, lead singer of Simple Plan is disillusioned, feeling that he has no control in his life. Then whilst the band is performing at Montreal's annual slave festival...he decides to take matters into his own hands, and buys himself a slave...not realising that it will be the beginning of something new.

Note: This story is written in Four Acts.

Act One: Acquisition
Act Two: Catch the tears and wash them all away
Act Three: "I can wait forever for you to submit to me..."
Act Four: Happiness is a warm gun

Act One: Part One

Saturday June 2nd, 2007

Laval, Montreal

Annual Slave Market

Noon

In Laval, the slave markets are the one place you don?t expect to see a pop-punk band. However, Pierre Bouvier was not one of those men who particularly cared what people thought. He insisted that Simple Plan get a place on the bill at the annual slave markets, because his older brother, Jonathan, was on the board of the Guild of Dominants and Submissives.

Of course, he had his own motives for wanting to be on site. At 28 he was feeling disillusioned. Pierre had to have something in his life, other than his band, that he could control. Because, in truth he really couldn?t control what happened in the band.

Success in the music industry depended on public demand, and often on record sales. He wanted something that he could take complete control of. Purchasing a slave seemed like the best way to gain that control.

He didn?t know what the others thought; well he knew that Chuck would approve of his decision. But, how the others would feel about it was something he hadn?t really stopped to think about. Probably because he felt that it wouldn?t matter. They were like brothers to him and he figured they would support him, regardless. It wouldn?t matter if he did the most horrendous, outrageous thing, they?d stick by him.

Currently, Pierre, Sebastien, Jeff and David were setting their levels for the afternoon gig. It was an extremely hot day; all four guys had towels hanging over their shoulders, which they used to wipe the sweat from their face and hands.

?Damn?is it just me?or is it too fucking hot to play??

Pierre stood in the middle of the stage, attempting to set the levels on his acoustic. His fingers slipped on the tuning pegs and he was beginning to get frustrated. David wasn?t helping matters, tossing picks at Sebastien whilst the guitarist was splashing water at Jeff.

?Desrosiers, will you stop that? It?s fucking annoying,? Pierre growled as he finally managed to turn the pegs, using the towel for leverage.

David blinked. ?I?m not bothering you, Bouvier. Just set your levels.?

?You two are bothering me,? Jeff smirked as he tried to protect his electric guitar from Seb?s attack.

David laughed.

Pierre snorted as he strummed a few chords, a frown passing across his face. ?Right. I?m done.? He set his acoustic down on its stand. ?I?m going for a walk. See ya later.?

He jumped down from the stage and wandered away leaving the rest of the band to bicker amicably amongst themselves. He passed Chuck at the catering tent.

?Hey, Pierre!?

Pierre glanced back as Chuck joined him, bottle of water in hand.

?Hey.?

?Where?re you off to??

Pierre shrugged. ?Going to see what?s on offer??

His friend lifted an eyebrow. ?I didn?t know you were interested.?

Gripping the hem of his black shirt, Pierre grinned crookedly. ?You learn something new every day.?

?Guess so?? Chuck rubbed his chin. ?Well, just be back in time for our set.?

Pierre nodded. ?No worries.? He stood for a moment and watched as his friend walked back toward the stage; then he turned on his heel and headed for the main market.

Jason De La Fontaine crouched by the small pen where his slave cowered in the back section. She huddled beneath the blanket cover, hiding from the sun. Her soft blue eyes stared out at the busy marketplace, fear shining in their depths.

Long, dirty hair fell in a knotted mass over her face. Yet, through the dirt, and beneath the shabby rags that barely concealed her slim figure, she was still beautiful. Jason knew that he could get a very good price for her.

He?d already had several prospective buyers. Except he had made the mistake of giving them the real reason for why he wanted to get rid of her. She was constantly attempting escapes. Was disobedient, refused to do what she was told.

As soon as the buyers had heard this, they baulked and left, obviously to find a less difficult purchase. Still, Jason held out hope that he would find someone who would take her out of his hands.

He stood up and cast his gaze over the stands close to him noticing a man, probably in his late twenties, browsing a nearby stall. He wasn?t the type of man Jason was used to seeing at the slave markets. Dressed casually in denim jeans and a black T-shirt he appeared to be better suited to a rock concert venue. Still it took all sorts to buy and sell slaves.

He observed the man as he moved through the stalls. Shaggy dark hair cast shadows across a strong face. Dark eyes were staring critically upon the slaves at each of the stalls. However, they didn?t appear to appeal to the man as he moved on, approaching Jason?s marquee.

?Hey?what have you got here?? The man had a surprisingly light tone for someone who seemed so serious. Jason smiled grimly, pulling back the blanket on the pen. The man crouched down, pushing his hair from his eyes, leaning one arm against the cage. The girl shivered and lowered her eyes as he swept cool eyes over her.

Jason slumped on his camp chair and watched the man, realising he had seen him somewhere before.

Clearing his throat, he got his attention. ?Um?you look familiar. Have I seen you before??

The man glanced at him, deep brown eyes narrowed. ?Probably. I?m in a band.?

Jason scratched his cheek. ?You famous??

He smirked. ?I guess we?ve done okay. Name?s Pierre Bouvier.? He held his hand out.

Jason grasped it firmly. ?Frontman of Simple Plan??

Pierre laughed. ?I prefer not being recognised as such. I?m just the lead singer. Nothing special.?

?Pretty important though. I always say it?s the singer who holds the band together.?

Pierre snorted. ?I?d have to disagree. I?d say Chuck, our drummer, is who keeps the band together.? He frowned and glanced at the slave. ?I don?t have any real control in the band?not really?sure I write the lyrics and all. But I need something more.?

Jason lifted an eyebrow. ?Is that why you?re down here??

?Yeah. So, tell me. She yours?? He jerked his chin at the girl in the pen. ?I wouldn?t sell her myself?had problems??

Jason blinked at his bluntness. ?I wouldn?t exactly say that??

Pierre chuckled. ?Don?t tell me. She keeps trying to escape and won?t obey you. Right??

Jason just stared at him, too stunned to respond.

?Heh, don?t look so shocked. I hear things from my brother. Have you heard of him? Jon Bouvier.?

Jason rubbed at his face. ?Oui, I have. He sits on the Guild council.?

Pierre smiled then looked at her again. ?What?s her name??

?I call her, Margarite. It?s not her real name, but that?s not important.?

Pierre nodded absently as he examined her through the mesh of the pen.

Jason swallowed hard, sensing instinctively that this man could possibly be a buyer. ?Do you want a closer examination??

Pierre frowned, thinking for a moment, casting a glance at his watch. ?Hmmm, I have time?we don?t play for another half hour.?

?Oh? SP?s playing a set here??

Pierre grinned. ?Yeah, you should come.?

?Sure?I?ll let you have a look at her, then I?ll close up shop for awhile and come to your set.?

?Sounds good to me.? Pierre stood, taking a step back. Jason bent down to unlock the pen. Margarite watched him warily.

?C?mon girl, get out of there.?

She shook her head a defiant glint in her eyes. She didn?t say a word. Jason cast an apologetic look toward Pierre.

He just shrugged. ?Drag her out. She?s a slave, man. Make her come out of there.?

Jason rolled his eyes. But he took his advice and reached in to grab her by her hair, hauling her from the cage. She yelled and clawed at him, gouging deep scratches into his arms. He slapped her hard across the face. She whimpered and fell limp in his grip.

He lifted her up onto the wooden table he?d set up next to the pen. Pressing her down on her back, Jason seized her wrists and held them above her head.

Pierre stepped toward the table and looked down at her. She didn?t avert her gaze, instead choosing to stare him directly in the face.

Pierre clucked his tongue disapprovingly. ?No wonder he wants to get rid of you?? He reached down and rubbed his palm along her left shin. ?Don?t look at me.? His voice was a low dangerous growl.

Margarite turned her head to the side and took a deep shuddering breath. Jason raised his eyebrows.

Pierre glanced at him. ?Hmmm??

?She just?? Jason shook his head. ?Never mind.?

Pierre flicked his eyes back down to the girl on the table, letting his gaze slowly travel up her slender figure. His gaze lingered on her small, pert breasts. The nipples were stiff even in the heat. He continued trailing his eyes along her body, to her face.

She was straining to hold still, the firm muscles of her lean body, quivering. She reminded him of a greyhound he had seen at the tracks as a kid. That dog had been straining under the hand of its trainer, itching to run. Just as she was obviously wanting to get away.

He kept his hand on her shin, slowly stroking. Margarite whimpered, and moved her leg. Pierre grabbed it and pinned it down, digging his fingers into her tender flesh. She let out a small whine. But let it lie still.

?Good girl,? Pierre whispered, relaxing his grip and once again stroking her limb.

Jason blinked and took a step back wondering if he let go of her wrists she wouldn?t try to get away.

He glanced at Pierre who smirked. ?She won?t go anywhere, dude??

?You sure??

?If she does, you can hold me entirely responsible," Pierre assured him.

Jason nodded and let go of her arms. Margarite trembled and flicked her eyes at the two men, then something flashed in her eyes, and she twisted her body trying to get away. Jason didn?t do anything, instead waiting to see what Pierre would do.

He didn?t move letting her roll off the table, scramble to her feet and attempt to make a dash for it. At the last second, he swung around, stooped low, grabbed her right leg at the back of her knee, and wrenched her off her feet. She sprawled across the ground at his feet.

?Get up.? Pierre hooked his fingers into the rags and dragged her to her feet. She was shaking, tears trickling down her face. He pushed her against the table and leaned close. ?That was stupid.?

She whimpered. ?I?I?m sorry, sir?? Her voice was thin, afraid.

Pierre stared down at her, expression severe. ?You?d better be sorry,? he whispered warningly. Then he released her and stepped back casting his eyes at Jason. ?How much do you want for her??

?Huh??

Pierre chuckled, raking his fingers through his hair. "How much??

?You want her?? Jason squinted at him curiously. ?You hardly had much of a look.?

Rubbing at his cheek, Pierre glanced up at the sky, not answering the question straight away. ?I think I?m sunburned?my cheeks feel like they?re red?? He muttered absently. The other man didn?t have a response to that, so he just waited. Pierre sighed and eventually turned his gaze back to Jason. ?How much. I?m willing to pay any price.?

?You?re serious??

?Oui. It?s obvious she needs to be taught her place.?

?And you think you?re the one to do it??

Pierre shrugged, casually. ?I?ll give it a whirl. You obviously want to get rid of her.?

?That?s true.?

?So, how much??

Jason took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.

Margarite, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, suddenly blurted out, interrupting the flow of discussion. ?No?don?t sell me to him?please?? She crumpled at Jason?s feet, grabbing the leg of his jeans and staring up imploringly at him.

He glared down at her coldly. ?I?ll do what I want with you. You are a slave. Don?t ever forget that.?

?No?please?? She sobbed, desperately.

Pierre frowned, wondering at her fear. He looked questioningly at Jason.

?I have no idea why she doesn?t want me to sell her to you?she wasn?t like this with any of the other prospective buyers.?

Pierre scratched his jaw. ?It?s not like I?m all that scary either?I mean?being in a band?I can?t afford to be scary. The band would lose its fans.?

Jason laughed. ?That?d be unfortunate.?

?Yeah, I read on fan sites?I?m apparently, a very nice, cute, funny guy. With not a mean bone in my body.? Pierre sighed and looked at the slave who was on the ground, crying. ?She probably just doesn?t want to leave you.?

?Most likely. But I?m not giving her a choice. You want her??

?Like I said, how much do you want for her??

?$3000.?

Pierre cocked an eyebrow. ?I?ll give you $2500.?

Jason blinked, then stuck out his hand. ?Done.?

They shook hands. Then he turned and grabbed Margarite firmly by the arm, pushing her back into the cage. Taking a sign, he stuck it across the door: SOLD.

Locking the cage, he swung back to face Pierre. ?Guess you gotta get to your set??

?Merde.? Pierre glanced at his watch. ?I?d better go?otherwise Chuck?ll rip me a new one?I?ll come back here after.?

Casting a long glance at the girl in cage, where she was huddled in the corner sobbing uncontrollably, Pierre smiled faintly then turned on his heel and headed back to the stage.

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Act One: Part Two

1:30 PM

Jason pushed through the crowd milling around the front of the stage. The band was having technical issues and had to halt after the first song. Pierre was at the front of the stage, electric guitar slung over his right shoulder, examining his microphone. His brow was furrowed in concentration.

Jason noticed some girls standing on the ground in front trying to get his attention; waving album covers up at him, obviously wanting autographs. He watched as Pierre smiled at them.

?Gimme a sec, girls?just gotta fix my mike??

The girls just continued to wave at him. Pierre smirked and shook his head at them. The girls pouted at him and he laughed gently.

Leaving the microphone on its stand, Pierre sank down on his haunches and reached out to let the girls hug him, and hand him their album covers. Holding his guitar to one side, propped against his right thigh, he pulled a Sharpie from his back pocket and swiftly scrawled his signature.

?There ya go girls. Enjoy the show,? Pierre winked down at them, and straightened.

Jason flicked his eyes across the rest of the crowd; most of it was made up of free-women. He wondered then why Pierre would have need of a slave. There were so many girls out there who would do anything to sleep with him.

Then he remembered what Pierre had told him. It was a control issue. In a way that made perfect sense: Guy in a band, all those girls wanting him. They end up controlling the situation. Having a slave would eliminate his lack of control. And it didn?t mean he couldn?t have one night flings with girl-fans.

Jason continued to observe the Simple Plan vocalist as he paced the front of the stage, waiting for the rest of the band to reset their levels. He handed his guitar to one of the technicians then padded to the front of the stage and took his microphone off its stand.

There was no hint of the stern ?slave-master? in Pierre as he fronted the band. His dark eyes sparkled excitedly; his mouth was spread in a broad grin. His cheeks were pink, slightly chubby. He bounced on the balls of his shoes calling out to the crowd, getting them hyped as the technician finally gave the all clear.

?Let?s DO THIS! Everyone jump with me!? Pierre jumped up and down, microphone in one hand, other arm thrust up in the air. As he moved, he glanced back toward the drummer, Chuck, who was tapping in the first song.

?You all know this song! Sing with us -? Pierre motioned to the crowd as he launched into a rousing rendition of Shut Up.

Jason tapped with his foot, half-heartedly singing along as the band continued to play all the hits from their first two albums, and several funny covers.

Throughout the set, he kept his eyes glued to the lead singer. Pierre exuded a confidence and happiness that he very rarely saw in a person. Here was a man that enjoyed what he was doing, enjoyed performing for a crowd of people who in turn obviously loved the band.

Yet, Jason sensed something else moving beneath the surface of the man?s charming exterior, something almost sinister. He couldn?t pin it down, but he knew that it really didn?t matter. Whatever it was, it would at least help him in handling a slave.

Jason understood that to purchase, and then really own a slave, one had to be cruel at times. And, in Pierre Bouvier?s case, there were signs, unclear perhaps but they were there, of a man who could possibly be extremely merciless. If the need should arise.

Still at the current time, none of that was obvious as Pierre thrust his arms out to the crowd beckoning to them to scream for him. Jason couldn?t help but oblige.

Pierre saw him and winked before turning with his back to the crowd and ribbing Chuck about his drumming. ?What the hell was that, Comeau??

David called out. ?Sounds like he drank a bit too much last night!?

Chuck tapped his crash cymbal. ?I don?t drink, David.?

Pierre laughed and swung back to the crowd. ?Everyone raise their hands if they think Chuck is drunk!?

Jason smirked shaking his head to himself. No one raised their hands. Pierre pretended to pout. The two girls at the front of the stage held up their hands.

He laughed and pointed to them. ?Hey, Chuck! They think you?re drunk??

Chuck rolled his eyes. ?Get on with it, Bouvier!?

?Right, of course?? Pierre paced the length of the stage, eyes narrowed slightly. ?You know why people come to these markets? To buy and sell?d?ya know what they buy and sell here? Yeah?you?? He pointed at a young man standing near the stage. ?Do you know??

The man looked blankly up at Pierre.

?No? Well, I?ll tell you. Slaves. This is a slave market?I guess you could say I?m trying to make a segway here?but we haven?t written any songs about that?so instead?we?ll sing this next song?Me Against the World!?

* * * * *

??thankyou! Come to our shows!?

Pierre jumped off the stage, switching off his microphone, smirking as Chuck stole his only chance to actually speak to the crowd. Shaking his head, he made his way through the crowd, deliberately taking care to acknowledge the fans, smiling and giving quick hugs, posing for photos. However, he wasn?t going to let the crowd hold onto him for too long.

Jason stood beneath the shade of a tree marking the entrance to the main market and Pierre was making his way directly toward him. As he was about to get to him one of the girls from the front of the stage jumped in front of him. She was a brunette, with bright blue eyes, large breasts and a predatory grin on her lips.

?Hey??

Pierre blinked, his lips drawn together in a tight smile. ?Hey?I?m kinda busy??

The girl pouted. He knew exactly why she had stopped him. Girls like her wanted one thing from a guy like him. A roll in the sack, a good time. Pierre didn?t want that, not then at least.

?Look, I have to do a few things?you sticking around??

The girl nodded emphatically, dark ringlets bouncing on her forehead.

?Aight?you know where our bus is??

?Yeah?? she sounded breathless.

Pierre snorted inwardly. ?Meet me outside the bus at?10 PM?okay? You?ll still be here??

The girl nodded. ?My older brother has a stall here?I?ll be here for the whole three days??

Pierre blinked. ?Right?well, I have to go meet someone?? He glanced toward the tree. Jason was still standing there, waiting patiently.

The girl followed his gaze, and then giggled. ?You?re meeting him? That?s my brother?Jason. He?s such an idiot. But, y?know?he knows what he?s about.?

Pierre raised his eyebrows. ?Oh? So you know what he?s selling??

The girl sniffed. ?That slut of his?you buying her??

?And if I am??

?Oh, no big deal. You look like you could handle her.? The girl squeezed Pierre?s right bicep.

He grinned, flexing it slightly. ?What?s your name??

?Charlene,? she smiled.

?Well, I?ll be seeing you, then?Charlene.? Pierre tipped his fingers to his forehead then moved passed her finally reaching the tree where Jason waited.

?I see you?ve met my sister.?

?Yeah?does that bother you??

?Nah, not at all. She?s her own girl?does what she likes.? Jason shrugged. ?Anyway, you ready??

Pierre nodded, smiling crookedly. ?Oui. Let?s get this over with.?

evilpierreowns
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The beginning is really good so far. ^^
And the concept is really good too!
Around what time is this taking place?
And I don't really get how it's gonna be split up with the Acts and such.

spailengirl
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If you read Act One Part one it says the date... June 2nd 2007...so it takes place in 2007. ;)

Oh, it's just the way I wrote it. They're not sequels, it's one whole story but kinda with distinct acts, like a play, I guess.

Thank you :D.

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evilpierreowns wrote:
If you read Act One Part one it says the date... June 2nd 2007...so it takes place in 2007. ;)

Oh, it's just the way I wrote it. They're not sequels, it's one whole story but kinda with distinct acts, like a play, I guess.

Thank you :D.

Oh, I missed that. ><"
Oh, okay. ^^
And I forgot to mention this before, but I love that picture of Pierre. <3 XD

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Act One - Part Three

Simple Plan Tour Bus

3:25 PM

The girl was shivering, goose bumps rising on her bare skin; not that it was particularly cold. She was just reacting to the cool air, coming from the portable fan and moving across her skin. Kneeling, naked on Pierre?s bunk, she waited as he rummaged through a pile of junk on the bunk below. They were the only people on the bus, having only been there for about ten minutes.

It had taken half an hour for Pierre to complete the paperwork but once everything was signed and Jason had literally pushed the slave into his hands, he had quickly hustled her back to the bus.

Once on board, Pierre had wasted no time in ordering her to remove her clothes. A task that the girl had completed without complaint. The rags she wore weren?t much cover anyway, so there wasn?t much point in keeping them on. Once they were off, Pierre bagged them, putting them aside to throw away later.

And now he was trying to find something amongst all of his gear.

He glanced up, noticing her trembling and frowned faintly. ?Cold??

The girl lowered her eyes and shook her head.

Pierre straightened, narrowing his gaze on her face. ?Let?s get something straight here, you don?t lie to me. Right??

She flinched, but kept her head bowed. He sighed heavily and took her face between his hands, tilting it up to his. Tangled strands of hair fell around his hands as he tried to peer into her eyes. She shrank away from his touch.

He tightened his grip for a moment, then released her, letting out a frustrated groan. ?Damn it, it?s such a basic question. Are you cold??

She glanced up at him then, obviously gauging whether she should answer him or not. Pierre waited, crossing his arms over his chest. He lifted an eyebrow slightly, observing as her throat muscles contracted as she swallowed hard. Then she nodded slowly, lowering her eyes once more.

Pierre relaxed and smiled softly. ?That wasn?t so hard, was it??

She shook her head. ?No, sir.? Her voice was weak, strained.

He carefully touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek. Her skin was hot to the touch. Caressing her face, he examined her for a long moment. The girl was shaking beneath his critical appraisal.

He smiled reassuringly at her. ?Don?t worry?I?ll warm you up??

She visibly tensed at his words and huddled into herself. Sighing, Pierre?s hand moved from her face to the tangled mess that was her hair.

He lifted it from her shoulders and shook his head. ?We need to get you cleaned up??

He let her hair rest back against her back and shoulders and leaned back down to the bunk below. Pushing assorted tops and fliers aside, he finally found what he?d been looking for.

Picking up a small bottle of shampoo, he straightened and looked steadily at the girl. ?I need to ask you something.?

She nodded, hesitantly.

Pierre licked his lips. ?What?s your real name??

She blinked at him in apparent surprise. No one had ever asked her that before. Jason had called her Margarite, the master before had called her Pearl. Actually, more often than not, they had called her such degrading names as ?whore?, ?bitch?, and ?slut?. But, if they had to give her a proper name, they just made it up. It had been years since the last time she had ever heard anyone call her by her real name.

She looked down at the blankets on the bunk and clenched her hands in the folds. She blinked as a tear made its way down her cheek. Breathing unsteadily, she glanced up into Pierre?s deep brown eyes. There was genuine interest shining in their depths.

Rubbing at her face, she finally found the courage to respond. ?Adeline?? Her voice cracked and she began to sob softly.

Pierre tilted his head to one side, waiting for her to calm down. She swallowed hard a few times, her sobs finally subsiding. Once she had settled Pierre leaned against the bunk and brushed a hand across her cheek, pushing her hair from her eyes.

?Well, Adeline?we need to get you washed up?I swear that?s not your natural hair colour.?

Adeline blushed and actually let out a nervous giggle.

He chuckled and held his hand out to her. ?C?mon, up you get.?

She placed her small hand in his large one and allowed him to help her from the bunk. Gently he manoeuvred her down to the end of the bus to where the shower was.

Opening the door he motioned for her to get in; then leaning over her and turning the taps on, he pushed her under the water.

Grabbing a fresh bar of soap, he pressed it into her hands. ?Use that, and don?t forget to wash behind your ears,? Pierre smirked.

Adeline blinked at him then looked at the soap.

?Yeah, I know. None of us use soap?well, at least I don?t.? He grinned at her. ?So, it?s safe to use.?

She continued to stare at the soap as if she didn?t know what to do with it.

Pierre clucked his tongue beginning to get a little impatient. ?Do I have to do it for you?? There was an edge to his voice.

Adeline shook her head roughly, turning with her back to him. Pierre debated whether to correct her then decided to let her be, at least just this once. There would be plenty of time to explain what he wanted from her after she had cleaned up.

Adeline stood beneath the water with her eyes half-closed, drops of water clinging to her lashes. She slowly began to rub the bar of soap between her hands, lathering up. Then she smoothed her soap-covered hands over her body, washing every inch of skin that she could reach. Pierre watched silently a tight lump of desire forming in his throat. His jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight, as he grew hard.

?Fuck?? he whispered harshly.

Adeline heard him, her hands halting in their movement.

Pierre licked his lips. ?Don?t stop,? he ordered firmly.

A shiver ran down her spine; he saw a visible tremor race through her body. Without a thought, he pulled his sweat-soaked T-shirt off and quickly shoved his jeans and boxers off, stepping into the shower behind her.

Adeline stiffened and attempted to put as much distance between them as was possible. But the shower was so tiny that there was nowhere for her to go. All she succeeded to do was trap herself into a corner. Pierre smiled hungrily and moved so he was positioned directly behind her. He carefully placed his hands on her hips, gripping them hard.

?What??

?Don?t say a word?just hold still.? Pierre murmured close to her ear.

Adeline whimpered. But did as she was told. He slowly slid his palms up her sides and around to her breasts, cupping them in his hands. He could feel her nipples stiffening against his palms. He bent his head and nibbled at her collarbone.

Swirling the tip of his tongue along the sensitive skin, he could feel her body rigid against his. Squeezing her left breast hard, he elicited a moan of pain from her.

?Good girl?? His deep voice caressed her; she whimpered again. Then abruptly he stepped back from her. ?Stay??

Adeline remained frozen, wondering what was going to happen. With her back to him, she had no idea what he was doing. Her heart was beating a fearful tattoo in her chest. The next thing she knew, Pierre had his hands in her hair and was massaging his fingertips into her scalp. She blinked, as she saw from the corner of her eyes a trail of shampoo suds trickling from his hands.

?Hold still,? Pierre?s tone was stern. ?Close your eyes?don?t wanna get it in your eyes??

Adeline closed her eyes and let her breath out in a long sigh, leaning back slightly. Pierre supported her slight figure with his own body. An involuntary groan left her throat; she couldn?t help but feel the play of muscles in his lean body as he kept her from sliding to the floor. The hot water pelted down on them as Pierre slowly washed the grime from her hair, finally revealing the gleaming, golden locks that she had been born with.

?Would ya look at that?a blonde?a real blonde?? Adeline heard the admiration in Pierre?s voice and allowed a small smile to play across her lips.

He noticed it though and decided it was time to put her in her place. She was a slave after all. His slave. Sure, he could be nice, but he had to lay down the ground rules.

Letting her hair fall to her shoulders, Pierre pushed her against the wall of the shower and leaned his whole body against hers. She gasped, and instantly began to shake. He smoothed one hand down her side; with the other, he grabbed a hunk of hair and pulled her head back.

Bringing his mouth close to her ear, he whispered softly. ?Right?I want you to finish your shower. I?m going to wait for you at my bunk. When you?re done, you?ll present yourself to me on your knees, eyes to the floor?you understand??

Adeline breathed hard, her voice was so quiet he barely heard her response. ?Oui, sir??

Pierre dug his fingers into her left hip. ?I didn?t hear you.?

?Yes, sir.?

?Good girl?? He leered and stepped back. ?You and I are about to get to know each other a whole lot more??

Adeline turned watery blue eyes to him then. She was afraid. Pierre just winked at her then backed out of the shower, grabbing a towel and leaving her to finish.

Pierre sat naked on the bunk, legs dangling. Arms folded over his chest, he watched as Adeline shuffled down the aisle toward him. He could almost smell her fear as she inched closer. He didn?t speak. Just waited, knowing full well that his silence would be unnerving.

She eventually reached him, sinking to her knees in front of him, eyes lowered to the floor. She stared at a dark stain in the lino. Pierre vaguely remembered the cup of coffee that David had spilled on that exact spot two years ago. Chuckling to himself, he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, staring coldly down at the girl.

He was still as hard as ever. He needed to fuck something, badly. But he also didn?t want to rush. Wanted to find out what Adeline could do, would do, and wouldn?t do. The last didn?t really matter. As a slave, she had no choice; she would do whatever she was ordered to do. And if she refused, well he could always punish her.

But first things first. ?Rules.? Pierre tasted the word in his mouth. A bittersweet tang. ?Look at me, girl.?

Adeline raised her eyes a little, enough that she knew he could see her gaze.

?Good. There are some things you need to get from the start. One, you talk only if I let you; two, if you do have to say anything to me, you will address me as Sir?or Master. Third, the guys in the band?are off limits. Do not talk to them, or acknowledge them. I will talk to them about you explain things. Four, you will do as I say, or you will suffer the consequences. Any time of the day, if I want you?you will allow me to take you?no questions. Do you understand??

Adeline stared up at him then lowered her eyes and said quietly, ?Yes Sir?I understand.?

Pierre looked down upon her, rubbing his thumb across his top lip. ?Well then, now we?ve got that out of the way?? He slid off the bunk, standing over her. Feet planted apart, cock rigid, arms crossed tight over his chest he stared down at her. ?Stand up.?

The girl stood, careful to maintain her downward gaze. Pierre kept his face impassive as he grabbed her by the hips and pulled her against his body. He slowly rolled his hips, thrusting his hard length against her stomach. She gasped and her eyes flickered down to his cock, taking in its size.

He smiled crookedly. ?Like what you see, Adeline??

She swallowed hard, ?Sir??

?Mhm??

?You?you could call me Ada??

Pierre replied, voice hard. ?I could call you ?slut?.?

Adeline flinched, ?I?m sorry, sir?I didn?t mean??

He laughed gently, cutting her off, voice softening, ?It?s alright, Ada. Just don?t ask me again.?

She nodded, keeping her eyes lowered. He was being fair, something she wasn?t used to. She wouldn?t take advantage of that. Breathing deeply, she relaxed against Pierre.

He smiled and stroked her sides lightly. ?You never answered my question, Ada.?

Adeline shivered. ?What was it again, sir??

?Like what you see?? His tone was low, suggestive. She trembled in his grip. It was a simple, yet loaded question. In her experience, it was an extremely dangerous question. She had never been able to give the right answer. Fear of how Pierre would react to her response overwhelmed her. She shook her head.

?No??

?No?sir?I mean?yes?I do?? her voice shook.

Pierre frowned. Something was wrong. He slid one hand to her face and lifted her head. ?Tell me, are you scared??

A single tear trickled from her eye, down her face.

?Adeline.?

?Yes, sir. I am.?

?Why??

?I?I don?t know?? She bowed her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

Pierre growled in frustration. ?I haven?t got time for this.? He shook his head angrily. ?Get on the bed.?

Adeline obeyed, sensing beneath his annoyance a terrible desire. He?d been controlling it well, up until that point. He needed her; she would just have to let him take her. She quickly lay on her back, propping her feet up, spreading her legs.

He moved to kneel between them, forcing them further apart as he guided the head of his cock to her entrance.

Leaning over her, bracing his palms on the bed, he thrust into her. ?Fuck!? he hissed harshly. ?Tight??

Amazingly, for a slave who had been used so often, she was still as tight as anything. Either that or she just had very strong pussy muscles. Pierre didn?t think on that as he began to pound his cock all the way up into her.

Adeline grabbed hold of the bunk-curtain frame and the railing to stop her head banging against the back wall, as Pierre?s thrusts moved her whole body along the bed.

He groaned, uttering harsh words as he moved steadily inside her. ?Fuck?so hot?so tight?fuck?I?m close??

He was already close to orgasm. He didn?t know about her; her pussy was clenching, unclenching around him. But this was all about him. Whether she felt anything or not didn?t matter. Squeezing his eyes shut he snarled as he thrust all the way into her pussy. His dick jerked and then he came.

?Oh?God!!!? He continued to pound her body into the bed. She would bruise, but he didn?t care. He was too immersed in his own pleasure to worry about what he did to her.

Adeline was crying as Pierre finished. He pulled out and glanced down into her face. There were tears rolling down her cheeks and she was attempting not to sob too loudly. Her throat was convulsing as she tried to hold back her cries. He had hurt her.

Blinking, he traced the tracks of her tears with his fingers. Then, sighing, he rolled off her and lay beside her. He watched as she curled up, protecting her body from him. Pierre just smiled leaving her alone.

He was satisfied.

evilpierreowns
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Wow. I didn't think Pierre was gonna be that mean to her. =[
I wonder what the guys will think when they find out that Pierre bought a slave...

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spailengirl wrote:
Wow. I didn't think Pierre was gonna be that mean to her. =[
I wonder what the guys will think when they find out that Pierre bought a slave...

:O NOOOO WHY PIERRE!!!!!!
hopefully he will losen up eventually so that at least she will warm up to him, I just cant picture Pierre being cruel... it's just not him :(

xSTEPHx

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Thanks you guys :D

Yeah, well funnily enough, I can picture Pierre being mean ;). Hence my username. Evil Pierre was a character I came up with back in 2005...lol.

I'll post an update soon :)/

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Act One: Part Four

Market Catering

7PM

The band was eating earlier than the rest of the marketeers. They sat at a long table, one of those heavy plank set-ups that were often used at festivals. It hadn?t cost the organisers anything because the local radio station sponsoring Simple Plan had also paid all catering costs.

Therefore, the food was also of higher than normal standard. Which one might think odd seeing that most small local radio networks weren?t known for their financial well-being. However, the man who started the network was a self-made billionaire and he could afford to be generous.

The six men, including Patrick Langlois who wasn?t officially a member of the band, but did a lot of work to keep the world in touch with them, sat at that table discussing the day?s events, laughing and joking. David was wading his way through a mountain of fresh salad as he turned to ask Pierre a question.

?Who?s the chick??

Pierre glanced up from the chicken and salad roll he was scrutinising.

?Huh??

?That chick you?ve got chained to your bunk?? David lifted an eyebrow at his friend.

?Chained?? Pat coughed as a bit of sausage went the wrong way down his throat.

Pierre rolled his eyes. ?Chew?then swallow.?

?Thanks, Bouvier. What is Dave going on about??

?What is this place, Pat??

?Uh?a slave market??

Pierre smirked. ?So you tell me who the chick is. What she is.? He finally took a large bite out of his roll, letting a grunt of contentment escape as he swallowed. ?This is good??

Pat blinked. David snorted. Chuck, who was contemplating his sidekick, looked over.

?You actually bought???

?Yeah, she?s a good buy.? Pierre wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. ?Pretty damn hot.? He chuckled. ?And she?s all mine.?

?Selfish bastard,? Pat muttered.

?Get your own,? Pierre countered as he finished off his roll.

?Hmph. I haven?t money to throw away on life?s little luxuries, like you do.?

?Well, if you and Seb actually got people to pay to listen to MOTH-Hour, you might get lucky.?

Pat shook his head. ?You just don?t get it, do you? We do that show out of love for the fans. I don?t need the money.?

?Then you don?t need a slave. I bet you have plenty of chicks who want to get laid by you anyway. So what are you worried about?? Pierre rocked back on his chair, folding his arms over his chest and staring pointedly at the other man.

Pat just laughed. ?Nothing. Anyway, I?d say the same of you. Why buy a slave, when you could get any number of chicks after a gig??

?Most of them are jailbait, Langlois. I?d rather risk having people think I was kinky than get caught for?uh, Chuck?what?s it called when a guy has sex with an underage chick??

?Statutory rape.?

?Yeah, that?s it. Don?t want to get caught out for that.?

Pat nodded slowly. ?Fair enough.? He pinched the bridge of his nose. ?She worth it??

Pierre smiled, his cock stiffening at just the thought of Adeline?s nubile body writhing beneath his.

?Fuck yeah?totally worth it.?

?Well, as long little Pete?s happy, eh??

?Heh, you get your fair share, Pat.?

?I guess I do. Some chick called Charlene came on to me?just before I came over here.?

Pierre frowned. ?Brunette? Blue eyes? Big breasts? Looks like she?d eat you alive? That Charlene??

Pat grimaced, slumping against his chair. ?She come onto you too? Man?? He raked his hands through his hair.

His friend nodded, almost sympathetic.

?Oui. I told her to meet me at the bus at 10.?

?What? No fair??

Pierre shrugged. ?You can have her. I got Adeline.?

?For real?? Pat glanced at him, gauging the sincerity of his words.

?Dead set. She?s not my type.? He stretched, then pushing his chair back, stood. ?Well, this has been fun, but I?m gonna go back to the bus.?

?And do what?? Pat said, the corner of his lip quirking.

Pierre snorted, but didn?t bother replying. He waved at the others as he walked out of the tent. David glanced after him then back toward Pat.

?Where?s he going??

?Back to bed.?

?Heh. He?ll get bed sores??

?What do you know about bed sores??

?Nothing??

?Whatever??

Pierre wandered back to the bus a small smile playing across his lips as he could still hear his friends? bantering. The dry grass crunched underfoot as he approached the bus. He frowned as he glanced toward the window where his bunk was. It was open; the curtain was pulled back, and Adeline was leaning against it staring up at the sky.

Pierre?s jaw tightened and he lengthened his strides and he was on board in a matter of seconds. Halting just before the stairs that went up to the sleeping area, he took a slow steadying breath. He didn?t want her to hear him. Not until he was right at his bed.

Carefully treading on each step, he moved up the stairs and then along the aisle and stopping just before his bunk. He shifted back, settled against Jeff?s, and just stared at Adeline as she continued to gaze out of the window. Totally oblivious to his presence.

Adeline sighed softly and closed her eyes, a single tear trickling down her face. She wiped at it furiously. There was no point in feeling sorry for herself. She?d been a slave all her life. Nothing would ever change that. Yet, she yearned for a better life. She wanted someone to love her.

Looking up at the night sky, the stars winked down at her almost as if they were taunting her. You?ll never be free; no one will ever love you?that?s what they were telling her. She trembled and let a tiny sob escape. But then she stiffened. Someone was watching her.

Adeline turned slowly and froze. Pierre was standing directly opposite the bunk now, arms folded across his broad chest. The black shirt he was wearing pulled tight across his shoulders. She shrank back against the bunk as far as the cuff around her left ankle would allow. He moved forward; his eyes were cool, focussed.

?Close the window.? His voice cut her to the quick.

She fumbled to obey. But her hands were shaking too much. So, Pierre leaned over her and yanked it shut, locking it. Then he pulled the curtain over as well.

?I?I?m sorry, sir?? Adeline said, fear in her eyes.

He just looked at her. ?I needed some fresh air,? she whispered. He continued staring at her. She lowered her eyes and shifted on the bunk, wrapping her arms around her breasts. She was still naked; Pierre wouldn?t have it any other way.

?I?ll ask next time, sir??

Pierre smiled faintly. ?Don?t bother.? He leaned against the bunk. ?You understand why I can?t let you do that??

She sniffed and wiped her eyes. ?Yes sir?I might try to escape??

Pierre snorted. ?I haven?t much fear of that.?

He placed a hand on the chain that attached the cuff to the wall. He gripped it firmly and tugged. ?This?ll stop that.?

He tilted her chin so he could look her in the eyes. ?I don?t want other people to see you.?

Adeline breathed in deeply, her eyes locking for a long drawn out moment with his. She knew this would probably be one of the only times she would be permitted to really look at him, so she took full advantage of the chance.

Pierre?s dark eyes had light golden flecks that were scattered across the irises. Black lashes framed his eyes drawing the focus to his intense gaze. She let her eyes travel over his face. The stubble across his top lip and jaw gave him a rough appearance.

Pierre held still sensing that Adeline was examining him. He knew he should reprimand her for staring at him, but he knew that at some stage she would have to get know him. Learn every inch of him, not just his physical appearance, but also his wants, his needs, everything about him. So he waited quietly as her gaze lingered on his face.

He watched as she hesitantly lifted a hand and rested it against his cheek, slowly smoothing her palm over the stubble. He shivered then reached up to grab her hand, squeezing it hard, pushing it away.

?Don?t touch me.?

Adeline let her hand drop to her side.

?Sorry...?

Pierre just nodded. She took that as permission to continue examining him so she sat back and continued to look at him; her eyes falling lower, drawn to the buckle of his white studded belt. It was holding up the dark blue denim jeans, only enough so the top of his boxers peeked over the waistband.

Then she tore her gaze away and swallowed hard a bead of perspiration falling down her face. Her heart had begun pounding in her chest.

What is wrong with me?

Adeline had never reacted to any of her masters like this before. She was actually turned on. She squeezed her thighs together not wanting Pierre to see that she was becoming aroused. He noticed the movement though and shifted. Moving his hand from the chain to rest on her left thigh, he pried her legs apart. She whimpered.

?Please don?t??

Pierre glared at her, sliding his palm to press against her mound. He gripped hard. She let out a strangled sob. Then a low moan. He chuckled.

?Don?t tell me you don?t want this.? He turned his hand and slid his finger slowly against the outer lips of her pussy.

A tremor raced through Adeline?s body and she whimpered in need.

?You?re already so fucking wet it?s not even funny?? Pierre licked his lips. ?Too bad I?m not in the mood. And what I want is all that matters.?

He found her clit and pinched it hard causing her to cry out in pain. He held on for several seconds watching as her pupils dilated. Then he relaxed his grip. Adeline slumped down on the bunk, trembling.

He slapped her thigh. ?Get some sleep.?

She huddled into the corner of the bunk. Pierre squeezed her thigh then stepped back watching as she forced her eyes shut and tried to go to sleep.

Shaking his head Pierre turned and made his way back to the lower level of the bus. He needed some time to think about what he was going to do next. It was all very well having her; he now had to decide how he was going to deal with having her on tour with them.

Because Chuck had told him earlier that night that the band was going to go on a preliminary tour to promote their new album. Which ironically hadn?t even been produced yet. They were doing everything backwards: promote then record.

Sighing, Pierre found a comfortable spot in the back lounge of the bus and, propping his feet up on the small table, settled down for a long hard session of navel-gazing.

evilpierreowns
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:O omfg Pierre is getting worse... why would he even do that to somebody :(

xSTEPHx

steph1890
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steph1890 wrote:
:O omfg Pierre is getting worse... why would he even do that to somebody :(

xSTEPHx

I know. =[
It's just so hard to imagine him this mean.

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steph & amanda - yeh, Pierre is mean, isn't he?

Act One: Part Five

Simple Plan Bus

10 PM

Charlene De La Fontaine carefully made her way across the uneven ground to the bus. She almost stumbled as her heel caught in a grass root. Cursing under her breath, she managed to catch herself before she fell, but then she felt a hand grab her arm to steady her. Glancing up through her dark bangs, she recognised the man she?d seen filming the band. Patrick smiled at her.

?Careful. You should take off your heels. Lots of holes in the ground.?

?Thanks?? Charlene reached down, removed her shoes, and held them together in one hand. Then she straightened and smirked at him. ?Seen Pierre? He said he was going to meet me out here.?

He blinked. His eyes were drawn to the very short skirt that she was?almost wearing. Pat cleared his throat.

?Uh huh. Pierre says that to every chick he meets. But, he won?t show.?

She frowned. ?You can?t be serious.?

?Perfectly,? Pat said, sympathetically. ?He likes to string people along. Not in a mean way. But to be totally honest, I think he?s looking for something more than just some fuck with random chicks.?

Charlene laughed. ?Oh, so he decides to buy a slave??

He shrugged. ?Well, that eliminates the random bit.?

?True.? She rubbed her bare arms. ?It?s hot??

Pat smirked. ?Wanna go for a swim??

She squinted passed him. ?I don?t see a pool??

?Sebastien has an inflatable one; we set it up on the other side of the bus.? He lifted an eyebrow at her.

Charlene pursed her lips. ?You have any alcohol??

?Why??

Her eyes sparkled, heavy with mischief. ?Ply me with enough and I might accidentally take all my clothes off?and maybe we might accidentally have sex??

Pat?s chuckle rumbled in his chest. ?Oh?so it might just be my lucky night??

Charlene moved closer to him, resting a hand on his left bicep, squeezing.

?Perhaps?after all?the frontman can?t always have all the luck, eh.?

He shook his head, thinking, No way?but somehow I don?t think Pierre gives a shit either way? Then he smiled. ?I?ll go get us some drinks?just go round the other side, I?ll meet you in a minute.?

Charlene nodded and made her way around the back of the bus. Pat didn?t wait as he bolted for the door and bounded onto the bus. He opened the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers. Then he made to exit when he noticed Pierre, sitting at one of the small tables, watching him.

?Hey, what are you doing there??

Pierre lifted one shoulder. ?Nothing. Where?re you off to in such a rush??

?Beer. Girl. Pool.?

?Charlene??

?Yeah, you?re blowing her off. She?s with me now.?

Pierre gave a soft grunt. ?You?re welcome to her.? His eyes absently lifted toward the upper level. ?I?m satisfied with what I?ve got.?

Patrick shook his head. ?I bet. Catcha later.?

His friend nodded, leaning back, folding his arms and closing his eyes.

?Have fun, Pat.?

?Heh, no problem.?

Pat smirked at his best friend then swung around and left the bus.

As soon as he was gone, Pierre opened his eyes, stood and moved to the window and peered through the curtain. Charlene was already in the pool, butt naked. He chuckled to himself, watching as her breasts bounced a little as she floated in the water. Her long dark hair splayed out around her in the water.

He flicked his eyes to the side and watched as Pat came into view. Pierre chuckled dryly then let the curtain swing shut. He knew he could watch. But that?d be a second rate way to getting his rocks off. Much better to experience it for himself. He?d just have to wait for them to finish in the pool then he?d take his turn.

With that thought growing in his mind, Pierre made his way back to the top level. He stopped by David?s bunk and leaned his hand against the wall above. Surprisingly for a guy who rarely showered, David?s bunk was the cleanest. The irony of it. Pierre stared at nothing as his mind flickered over the decisions he had made.

The promotion tour was only for two weeks. It wouldn?t be a huge drama to have Adeline with him. As long as he laid down the rules and stuck to them, everything would be fine. And he would have to come up with a suitable punishment should she attempt to escape whilst they were on the road. That was the one issue that Jason had never been able to deal with; or so he had explained to Pierre.

Jason had said that Adeline made a habit of trying to get away, and had succeeded on several occasions. Pierre couldn?t afford to allow her even to contemplate that idea. On the road, it?d be difficult to track her down if she managed to slip away. He would have to keep her on a tight leash.

Prevention was always much better than intervention. However, he didn?t want to rely on having to keep her chained to his bunk. He couldn?t be around all the time to release her so she could relieve herself?maintain her hygiene.

Scratching his jaw, he continued back to his bunk. Adeline was still asleep. He wouldn?t disturb her, just yet. Hoisting his arse onto the end of the bunk, he gazed silently upon her. Wisps of hair lay across her face. There was an aura of serenity to her still figure. Pierre moved a little closer and carefully traced his fingertips over her smooth cheek. He?d hate to scar her face. Hate to hurt her.

Fuck. Where did that come from? He knew that he could hurt her, if he had to.

Breathing slowly, he drew his hand back and grasped the curtain rail. He watched as she began to stir. Her eyelashes fluttered against the curve of her cheekbone, then the lids opened. Clear, bright, Adeline?s blue eyes sparkled as she appeared to surface from a pleasant dream. Then as they lifted the light flickered and vanished as her gaze rested on Pierre. She shrank away from him. He sighed.

?Have a good sleep??

The girl trembled. ?Yes, sir??

Shivering, she huddled into herself wishing he wouldn?t stand so close.

?Good.? Pierre, even though he sensed her discomfort, remained where he was and licked his lips. ?I have to explain a few things. All you need to do is listen.?

Adeline shifted nervously. His eyes narrowed.

?We go on tour soon, to start promoting our new record. You?re coming with us.? Pierre placed a hand on her left ankle and left it there as he went on. ?Your former master told me that you have a habit of?trying to escape.?

She shook her head and opened her mouth. He stopped her, gripping her ankle hard, digging his thumb hard into the hollow just at the Achilles tendon.

?Don?t say anything.?

She whimpered as tears sprang to her eyes. However, she closed her mouth, pressing her lips tightly together.

?Better. Now?where was I?? Pierre rubbed her ankle gently. He felt her relax beneath his touch. ?Oh, yeah. Escaping. There is no way I?m going to allow that. But, there still has to be a consequence if you should attempt it.?

He slid his hand up her leg. Adeline swallowed hard; she was afraid of what he was going to do. He moved his hand to her inner thigh and casually stroked his thumb across the silky skin. Then Pierre shifted, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her close to his body.

Adeline gasped, instantly trying to twist out of his arms; an almost involuntary reaction. He was quick. His right hand went straight to her throat and he clamped tight cutting off her breath, not entirely, but enough that he knew it would hurt her. She choked, as she continued to struggle helplessly against his unyielding grip.

Pierre maintained his hold as he brought his lips close to her ear, whispering, his voice rising over her strangled whimpers, ?Don?t fight me, little one. It?ll do you no good.?

He kept his other arm wrapped snugly around her waist as she writhed in a futile attempt to get free. It was pointless; Pierre?s arm was a steel band around her body, and his hand on her throat was vice-like. Adeline finally let her body go limp sobbing quietly.

Pierre relaxed the hand on her neck so she could breathe easier. But he left his other arm around her waist, keeping her trapped. She trembled uncontrollably. He passed the pad of his thumb across the pulse in her throat. It leaped beneath his hand, a steady, yet rapid beat.

?Y?know,? he mused. ?Perhaps that should be it.?

Adeline lifted curious eyes to his. Pierre smirked.

?If you try to escape, I should just kill you, eh.? He snorted in amusement. ?Whaddya say??

She stared unblinkingly at him then looked down. That was the most unoriginal threat she?d ever heard. Pierre must have sensed her thoughts because he laughed.

?Lame, eh. Guess you?ve heard that one a million times.?

She nodded slightly, tucking her chin down against her chest. Pierre sighed.

?Well, it?ll just have to do for now.? He became serious. ?You won?t run, will you.? It wasn?t a question.

Adeline shivered, thinking silently that there was no way she?d ever attempt to escape him. Because, unlike her other masters, Pierre actually looked like he was capable of carrying through with any threat he made. Pierre waited. She glanced up at him and shook her head.

?No, sir??

?Good. Because I?d hate to have to hurt you.? Pierre squeezed his hand around her throat again, firm pressure, enough to remind her that he wasn?t joking.

She swallowed against his tight grip.

He relaxed and stroked her neck gently, then leaned over to unlock the chain. ?Go on?grab something from the fridge?then get ready for bed?last day of the markets tomorrow??

Adeline blinked at him.

?Go on. Before I change my mind.? Pierre let go of her and moved back, giving her room.

She hesitantly slipped from the bunk and headed for the stairs. Then she stopped and looked back at him.

He raised his eyebrows. ?I?m giving you fifteen minutes.?

Adeline lowered her eyes and even from where he was sitting on the bunk Pierre heard her soft reply.

?Thankyou, sir.?

He just smiled and watched as she turned and went down the stairs, her long hair rippling a little as she disappeared from view. Flopping onto his back, Pierre tucked his hands under his head, closed his eyes and settled down to wait for her to return.

evilpierreowns
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ACT ONE: Part Six

10:30 PM

Patrick laughed as he towelled his hair dry and climbed back on the bus, calling over his shoulder.

?Call me, okay??

Soft giggles came from Charlene as she left in the opposite direction.

?No! You call me, Pat!?

Shaking his head, Pat stepped into the aisle and made toward the shower stall but halted when he saw the girl, who had to be Pierre?s newly acquired slave, standing, frozen by the fridge, an apple clasped limply in one hand. Pat frowned, slinging his towel around his shoulders.

He knew he was dripping water all over the floor and should finish drying himself; yet, he couldn?t tear his eyes from the vision standing before him. Long blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back and seemed to shimmer beneath the dull interior light.

She was wearing what looked like one of Pierre?s T-shirts; it was large enough to allow her some modesty. Her eyes were lowered slightly to the floor. He sensed, well he wasn?t quite sure what it was, but the girl seemed afraid, of something.

Pat scratched his jaw and smiled, shaking his head slightly as he continued on his way to the shower. He glanced back once to see that the girl was now leaning against the fridge her eyes tightly shut, as she took careful bites of the apple, obviously savouring the taste. Rolling his eyes Pat disappeared into the shower stall and let the door click shut.

Adeline?s eyes snapped open as soon as Pat was safely inside the shower. She let her body relax against the side of the fridge and she quickly finished the apple and tossed the core into the small bin under the sink. She yawned and looked around the lower level. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the bus door.

She could so easily slip off the bus and run. Pierre was on the top level. But she also knew that he would probably be watching out the window, just in case she attempted to escape. Then there was his warning. All her previous masters had threatened to kill her if she escaped. However, none of them had ever followed through with those warnings.

Adeline sensed that there was something different about her new master. Pierre appeared charming, pleasant, even kind on the surface, yet there was a menacing presence lurking inside. She had seen it when she looked into his dark eyes. And it frightened her. Enough to curb any thoughts of trying to escape. At least for the moment.

Sighing, Adeline wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and went over to the sink to wash her face and brush her teeth. Once that was done, she made her way back up to the top level, back to Pierre.

As she moved along the line of bunks (David, Jeff then Pat?s on the left; Seb, Chuck then Pierre?s on the right), she absently glanced into each. There were items of clothing, assorted books and other junk strewn across each bunk. A veritable mine of random objects that the band members obviously used to wile away their time whilst travelling.

Pausing before Pierre?s bunk, she could see that he had fallen asleep. He was still fully dressed; lying on his side, one muscular forearm hung over the edge of the thin mattress. His hair hung, lank against his forehead; his eyelashes lay flush against his cheeks. His chest moved steadily as he breathed.

Adeline stepped forward as quietly as possible, but her hand accidentally knocked a book off the end of Chuck?s bunk. It landed with a thud on the floor. Pierre?s eyes snapped open. They focussed instantly on her.

She froze, yet, her heart pounded in her chest. Obviously, he hadn?t been too deeply asleep. He stared at her intently, his gaze shifting only to take in her appearance. Then his lip curled.

?Take that off.? He indicated the shirt that he had permitted her to wear whilst she was alone on the bus.

Adeline was quick to obey. Slipping it off, she folded it and put it on the shelf at the end of the bunk. Then she looked back at Pierre. He smiled appreciatively at her.

?You look much better naked.? Shifting to make room, he patted the mattress. ?Up here. Lie with me.?

She hesitated. Pierre?s eyes narrowed.

?I?m not going to say it again.?

Adeline, shaking a little, climbed onto the bunk and settled next to him. Since the bunks were not made for two people she found she couldn?t avoid touching his body with her own. However, clearly she wasn?t close enough for Pierre?s liking.

He pulled her against his chest, wrapping both his arms around her waist, so her back was pressed hard against him. The buttons of his shirt dug into her spine and he could feel her shivering.

?Cold?? he murmured.

She shook her head slightly. He breathed deeply, smelling the sweet scent of apples that emanated from her hair. Slowly he smoothed one hand over her shoulder and down her spine. Adeline moved away from his hand; Pierre pulled her back roughly.

?Don?t move.?

He continued sliding his palm down until it rested at the small of her back. She remained frozen in place. His hand was hot against her skin, branding her. Pierre growled low in his throat and placed his lips to her left collarbone, nibbling gently. She whimpered.

He increased the pressure on her back, feeling her arch away from his touch. He chuckled, but then abruptly sat up and turned away, pulling the curtain back on the window and peering up at the sky.

There was a full moon. It seemed huge in the night sky. Pierre blinked, thoughts racing around his head. He grabbed one, remembering his earlier plans, making a quick decision.

?We?re going for a swim,? he snapped, almost pushing Adeline off the bunk.

She managed to land on her feet and steadied herself, clutching the edge of the mattress.

?A swim?? She gazed up at him in confusion.

She couldn?t understand where that had come from. Why would he want to go for a swim so late at night? Pierre glared at her. Swinging his legs around and planting his feet on the floor, he stood, flung a towel at her and headed for the stairs.

?Cover yourself, and come with me.?

Wrapping the towel around her body, Adeline hurried after Pierre as he took the stairs two at a time, to the lower level and then outside. Adeline hesitated at the top of the steps at the door and glanced back over her shoulder. Pat was still the only other person on the bus. He was lying on the sofa with his eyes closed, an iPod resting on his stomach, singing quietly to himself.

She breathed deeply and stepped down, her towel catching against the hinge. Pierre turned back as she stumbled out of the bus, catching hold of her before she fell down the steps. Gripping her around the waist, he steered her to the other side of the bus where Seb?s pool was set up. Releasing his hold, Pierre casually removed his clothes until he stood in his boxers. Then he motioned to Adeline.

?The towel.?

She shook her head and backed away. Pierre?s eyes hardened and he grabbed the end of the towel and whipped it away. She gasped and brought her arm to cover her breasts and her hand down to cover her privates. He seized them harshly and jerked them away.

?Don?t do that again. You have nothing to hide from me.? He pulled her over to the pool. ?Get in.?

Adeline quickly climbed in, gasping slightly at the iciness of the water. Pierre followed close behind, splashing a little. Once in, he grabbed the edge of the pool for a moment, breathing in sharply.

?Fuck that?s cold!?

The young slave huddled against the wall watching him warily. He turned to her, absently rubbing his arms. She blinked, eyes fixed on his body, watching the play of muscles beneath his skin. He moved toward her, smiling faintly. She leaned harder into the wall, shrinking into herself. Pierre sighed. Halting in front of her he tilted his head to the side.

?Y?know. You have two choices. Either you come to me voluntarily; or I just take you.? He chuckled, the sound making her skin crawl. ?On second thoughts. You really don?t have a choice. Come here.?

Adeline stepped away from the edge of the pool, the water lapping around her upper body. She approached Pierre nervously until she was standing directly in front of him. Not quite touching, but close enough to see the light flecks of colour in his eyes; see the goose bumps rising on his skin from the chill of the water. The sweat trickling from his hairline. She lowered her eyes; Pierre?s boxers appeared distorted through the movement of the water.

?You?re probably going to like this,? Pierre?s deep voice seemed to block out all other sound.

Adeline glanced up into his face as he pulled her into his body, allowing her to feel how hard he was.

He whispered into her ear. ?Remove my boxers??

With trembling fingers she slid her hands to the waistband and tugged them down; he lifted each foot, then let the boxers float to the surface. Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist Pierre tossed them out of the pool. Then he looked down into her eyes.

?Hold on to me, alright??

She nodded, hesitantly snaking her arms around his neck. He smirked, cupping her arse in his hands and squeezing.

?Legs around my waist.?

She wrapped her legs around his hard body. His erection pressed lightly against her stomach. Pierre licked his lips, sliding his hands to her waist, and then he lifted her and nudged the head of his cock against her pussy. It took two tries before he penetrated and then with a single, brutal jab he sank all the way inside. Adeline gasped, tightening her grip. Hanging on.

Pierre remained still, allowing her to adjust around the thickness of his length. The surface of the water barely rippled around them. The girl leaned her cheek against his shoulder, breathing unsteadily. He let her stay like that, gently running his right hand over her back.

He could afford to go slow and didn?t want her to think that he was too much of an arsehole. Because it truly wasn?t in his nature. And he had decided that perhaps if he was nice to her, sometimes, that she would be less likely to attempt an escape.

Adeline moaned softly, her pussy clenching a little around his cock. Pierre drew in a deep breath and slowly began to move inside her. Lifting her using the strength of his muscles, not that it was too difficult, since the water lessened her weight. She clung tighter around his neck, trembling.

Every inch of his hard length slid against the walls of her pussy causing her to whimper in need as he moved in and out, slowly, forcefully. Pierre smiled softly and tilted her face up to his.

?Look at me. I want to see your eyes when I come inside you??

Adeline shivered at his words, her lips parted in a silent cry. He chuckled as he increased his tempo. Lifting her faster, pulling her down harder onto his cock. The heat emanating from both of their bodies was enough to dispel the coolness of the water surrounding them. Suddenly, he halted, linking his hands behind her back.

?Move on me?I want you to finish me?? Pierre stared hard into her eyes. ?Now, little one.?

She obeyed. Locking her ankles tightly at his back, and gripping harder around his neck, Adeline began to slide up and down on his dick, pussy walls contracting, relaxing. Pierre moaned quietly, keeping his gaze locked with hers, watching as her pupils dilated slightly. Smirking, he moved his hand to the front of her body and slid it down to grip her clit. He squeezed it between thumb and forefinger and she groaned out loud.

?Master?? Adeline clamped down hard around his cock, pussy convulsing as her body stiffened.

Pierre growled into her neck. ?Wait for me??

He felt her press down all the way on his cock, squeezing as hard as she could.

?Please?? she begged, voice shaking.

He held, lifting his other hand and making her look into his eyes.

?Wait,? he repeated as a rush of pleasure exploded from inside him. ?Now.?

His cock jerked inside her as he spilled his load inside her. The girl cried out, as she came long and hard. Her lithe body shook against his long after she had come down, cheek pressed against his shoulder, little sobs escaping her as she recovered.

Pierre let his breath out steadily, satiated; he remained still, just holding her close to his chest. The cool water lapped their bodies, soothing, peaceful. The full moon shone down upon them, a silent witness as they remained close together and the stars began to burn bright in the night sky.

evilpierreowns
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HOLY SHIT>>> GRAPHIC ENOUGH :P but very good and definetally intreguing so far :)

xSTEPHx

steph1890
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Had to rejoin lol

here

ACT ONE Part Seven

On the bus

Midnight

Adeline lay awake, huddled against Pierre?s warm body as he slept; her cheek nestled against his stomach. The fingers of his right hand were tangled in her long blonde locks. The strands were still a little damp from their swim. As was Pierre?s hair. Short strands of his hair stuck out around his face and there were still tiny droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. His chest rose and fell steadily with each breath he took.

Adeline turned her eyes to look up into his face. It was relaxed, his bottom lip slack, some drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. Tentatively, she reached up and wiped it away with a fold of the blanket that was tangled between their bodies.

Slowly tracing the material over his jaw, she froze, holding her breath, when he appeared to stir. His head moved slightly and his eyelashes fluttered. Then he stilled; Adeline released her breath, and the blanket, letting it slip from her hand so now only her fingers were touching his face.

She realised her heart was pounding, adrenaline rushing through her. Breathing slowly to steady the beats, she traced her fingertips down from his strong jaw, along the line of his throat. She shivered, barely touching him, afraid of waking him.

Her fingers hovered over the hollow of his throat, trailed over his Adam?s apple, down to rest feather light on his breastbone. Adeline shifted around a little. Then traced her fingers across Pierre?s firm chest and down his body exploring and learning every inch of skin that contained the power within the man she had called ?Master?.

Adeline was still reeling a little from the shock she had experienced when Pierre had told her she had called him that when he had taken her in the pool. She had never called any of her previous owners ?Master? when they had taken her at least not until she had been with them for a while. Some believed that the title had to be earned and only a slave who had succumbed completely to their owner ever truly called them ?Master?. But for it to happen so soon was unheard of.

Adeline felt as if something had come undone inside her, she had broken; and she knew something about Pierre had caused it. Whatever it was, she had perceived within him when he had come to examine the slaves at the market. And it had frightened her then, and still sent tingles through her now, even after a whole day had lapsed.

She had so desperately not wanted Pierre to buy her. Warning bells had gone off deep inside her when he had walked up to the stall. She had no idea why, but Adeline had always trusted her intuition. Always.

She could always tell when a master would be bad for her. And Pierre?was one of the worst, judging by her sudden urge to beg Jason not to sell her. In fact, if she thought about the incident hard enough, she had never pleaded not to be sold ever before in her 21 years of life. Pierre Bouvier was the first. And she did not like the implications of that.

A tremor of fear coursed her spine and Adeline had to force down a cry that was threatening to escape her control. She did not want to wake him, fearful of what Pierre would do if she did. Carefully she settled once more against his body, closing her eyes, finally allowing her mind to succumb to the relative safety of her dreams.

The first sensation is an overwhelming sense of peace and happiness. And then, sunlight streaks an unknown horizon as she finds herself lying on a bright blue blanket. She knows this dream; she has been here before. Always the same place. A deserted beach in a place she does not recognise.

She is not alone. There is always a topless man, with dark hair and a baggy pair of camouflaged board shorts, several metres away, along the beach closer to the lapping waves of the sea. He is kneeling by a half-built sandcastle, picking up shells that are washed up around his bare knees.

The one thing she always notices is that the man never has a face. At least it is blurred, so she never sees his features. But on this ?day?, she gets a jolt. The man glances up the stretch of sand to look at her. It?s Pierre.

She freezes, unable to move, not a limb as if paralysed. Pierre stands, brushing sand grains from his legs. Beads of water cling to the hairs on his legs as he begins to move toward her. She stares unblinkingly as he approaches, his own dark eyes sparkling with uncharacteristic warmth. Her eyes are drawn to them, wonderingly. Then she manages to move them down his lean, muscled frame. Every detail of his body appears to stand out in sharp relief for a full moment in time.

And then suddenly he is right at her side, kneeling beside her, face unreadable. Placing one hand on her shoulder, Pierre speaks, yet she cannot hear a word he says. She never hears anything in her dreams, or perhaps she just does not remember what is said. However, she can read the expression in his eyes. It is tender, filled with an emotion she personally has never encountered before, not in her waking life. An emotion that scares her a little, but also inexplicably warms her soul.

She cannot tear her eyes away as a broad smile curves the corners of Pierre?s mouth, a hint of rose resting on his chubby cheeks. He tilts his head to the side and she knows that he is expecting a response to whatever it was that he had just said. But she has no words. He frowns and grips her shoulder a little harder beginning to shake her, a little, mouthing words that she cannot comprehend?

The beach and Pierre begins to fade?

?Adeline?Adeline?Adeline.?

Her eyes snapped open to find that Pierre was, in reality, shaking her by the shoulder. She muffled the sigh that was about to surface as she shook off the pleasant feelings left over from the dream. Pierre glowered sleepily at her. She must have woken him.

?Were you dreaming??

?Why?? Surely, she hadn?t been making any noises whilst she slept?

His eyes narrowed. ?Just answer the question.?

Adeline shivered. ?Yes, I was dreaming, sir.?

Pierre sniffed. ?Explains the smile then. As to why I asked, I have every right to be curious about you. You belong to me.?

?Yes, sir??

She felt unexplainable relief that he had not asked her what she had been dreaming. That would have been difficult to explain. Even she did not understand what it meant. He yawned and glanced at the travelling clock on the shelf.

?Merde. 1:00 AM.? Pierre groaned and flopped back on his back. ?Go back to sleep?don?t have to be up until 10.?

Adeline decided it would be prudent not to point out to him that he had woken her. That wouldn?t go down to well. Instead, she shifted and rested her cheek against his stomach as he once more curled his fingers in her hair. As Pierre?s breath slowed, steadied into sleep, she soon followed, finally slipping into dreamless slumber.

evilpierreowns
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i love it :D

crystal
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I remember this one from forever ago! I love it! and will continue to read it again and again!!!! Awesome work!

investersbrock
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well I guess it was nice that he didn't ask her what he was dreaming about lmfao :P :)

steph1890
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Too true^

ACT ONE Part Eight

Sunday June 3rd, 2007

11 AM

Adeline woke to the sounds of the guys rushing around the bus, throwing their gear together, and making sure they hadn?t left anything behind. They were getting ready to leave. She sat up, wrapping the blanket around her and peered down the aisle. Pierre was down the end standing by David?s bunk, where the bassist was rummaging through a bag muttering Quebecois swears.

?Tabernack?it?s not here, Pierre!?

?Look. It?s just a pick, David. It?s no big deal.?

?But it?s my lucky pick,? David grumbled and pushed away from the bunk with an exaggerated groan. He turned and began to walk along the aisle toward Pierre?s bunk muttering under his breath. He glanced up, as he was about to pass Adeline and halted. ?Hey? You seen my pick??

She swallowed hard, her gaze flitting passed to look at Pierre. His eyes were narrowed and he was slowly shaking his head. Don?t say anything. That?s what he was telling her. Looking back to David, she shivered. His hazel eyes were bright, almost pleading, and the softest smile curved his lips.

?Have you??

Adeline hesitated then decided she would risk Pierre?s anger. After all, what could he possibly do? David had asked her a direct question. It couldn?t possibly hurt to answer. She gave a little shake of her head.

?No?I haven?t seen it, sorry??

The bassist sighed and slapped his thigh. ?Oh well?I?ll go ask everybody else??

He walked back toward Pierre and pushed passed him, disappearing down the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Pierre began to make his way back to his bunk. He didn?t say a word as he stopped and leaned against the rail staring at Adeline.

She looked up into his face and felt chills trickle down her spine. His eyes were black, white lines etched on either side of his nostrils. His lips were drawn together in a hard line. He didn?t speak. Waiting for her to explain her actions.

Adeline brought a trembling hand to her hair, brushing it from her face. Then she let it drop again, her eyes following to stare fixedly at Pierre?s shoes.

?I?I?m sorry, sir?I didn?t mean?I didn?t want to seem rude?I??

Pierre cut her off, harshly. ?What did I tell you about talking to the others??

?Not allowed?? she whispered. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She lifted them to Pierre?s. His were hard, not even a trace of mercy in their depths. ?Please?I?m sorry??

He sighed deeply and rubbed a hand over his face. Then glanced at the small clock.

?Look. I haven?t got time to deal with this right now.?

Pierre leaned over and grabbed the chain, slipping the cuff around her left ankle, securing it; yanking it tight and watching with grim satisfaction as she winced. ?You?ll just have to sit tight.? He frowned sternly at her. ?But when we get home you can expect to be punished. So, don?t think that I will have forgotten.?

He gave the chain a tug to make sure it wouldn?t come loose then turned and made his way toward the stairs. He halted at the top to take a look back.

Adeline was huddled in the blanket, head bowed, crying softly. Pierre grimaced just as the door to the back lounge opened and Jeff came out lugging a bag of trash and moving down the aisle.

He stopped and glanced into Pierre?s bunk. ?Hey? You okay??

Pierre watched silently as Adeline turned her body away from Jeff and pressed into the wall of the bunk, attempting to silence her sobs. He smirked inwardly ? she won?t risk pissing me off twice - and headed down the stairs, not bothering to watch the rest.

He snorted as he heard Jeff murmur to himself. ?Right?okay?don?t say anything then??

Once outside Pierre pushed all thoughts of Adeline from his mind. Breathing in deeply, he sighed and then called out to David who was still hunting for his guitar pick.

?Oi! Desrosiers! Have you tried the stage? Maybe you dropped it after our set!?

David looked over and rolled his eyes. ?I?ve already looked there.?

?You could try again.?

David flung his hands up. ?No. What?s the point??

Pierre smirked, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. ?I?ll help.?

Sebastien walked passed at that moment and tossed something at the bassist?s head.

?Ow! What was that ? my pick!? David dived at the small scrap of plastic and held it up. ?I found it!?

Pierre snorted and clapped a hand to his friend?s shoulder. ?C?mon. We better get back on the bus.?

?Yeah, before Chuck loses it,? Seb called back over his shoulder.

?Yeah? So where?re you going??

?To find Pat. He?s not back from wherever he disappeared to.?

Pierre laughed. ?He?s probably off with that chick. Charlene.?

?Heh, speaking of?? David glanced at him. ?How?s your chick??

Pierre frowned all hint of amusement suddenly wiped from his face. ?Do me a favour, David.?

?Uh?of course???

?Don?t talk to her, alright.? He turned around and strode back to the bus. David stared after him, nonplussed.

Seb shot a confused look after the bigger man. ?What was that about??

The bassist shook his head. ?No idea.? He tucked his pick safely away in the back pocket of his pants. ?C?mon, I?ll help you find Pat.?

The two men walked passed Jeff who was trying to shove the bag of trash into one of the public bins.

?Hey, Jeff! You seen Pat??

Jeff shook his head as he finally got it in and the lid shut tight to prevent the smell from escaping. ?Nope.?

Seb scowled but then his expression brightened when he saw Pat walking toward them from the main market.

?Seb.? He called as he came close. ?Where?s Pierre? That guy he bought the slave from?wants to see him for a quick word.?

?On the bus,? David jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ?Where we all need to be right now. So Chuck says.?

?Right?well, we?d better get then.?

The four of them made their way, in silence, back to the bus. Pierre was standing outside again, leaning on the side of the bus, staring up at the sky. Patrick sped up and stopped to speak to him quietly.

Frowning, Pierre nodded and, pushing away from the bus, yelled to Chuck who stuck his head out one of the windows. ?I have to go talk to someone?be back in five, aight??

Chuck just waved a hand absently then his head disappeared inside again.

Pierre rolled his eyes then looked at Pat. ?If I?m not back in ten?come and get me okay.?

?Just go already.?

Pierre sighed and walked away back toward the market stalls. The others busied themselves, cleaning up, emptying the water from Seb?s pool, folding it up, and making sure they had all their equipment stored away on the bus.

Pat wandered around with his mental checklist, checking and rechecking everything until he was satisfied. As he moved to board the bus he glanced back toward the market and wondered just what that guy had wanted to talk to Pierre about.

Shaking his head he laughed at himself ? it?s not any of your business?- then climbed onto the bus the door hissing shut behind him.

* * * * *

Pierre peered into the small wooden box that Jason had pressed into his hands. Nestled in the folds of the silken lining were two slim blades. Flechettes? He?d read about them but had never laid eyes on the genuine article before. He knew what they were for, and how to use them. Setting the box down he lifted his gaze to the other man?s.

?Have you used these on her??

Jason gave a slight shake of his head. ?No. And perhaps that was my mistake?you know what they can do??

Pierre?s lips pulled up in a cruel smile. ?They inflict extreme pain. But. Leave no scars.?

?Extremely useful tool for punishment,? Jason added.

?Indeed. These?ll be handy. Thanks.? Shutting the box, Pierre tucked it under his left arm and shook the other man?s hand firmly. ?Have a good life, eh.?

?You too, Bouvier. You too.? Something in Jason?s tone suggested that he believed that it would end up otherwise, but perhaps that was only because he hadn?t had much luck with Adeline.

Pierre tightened his grip on the small box, nodded to Jason then turned on his heel and headed back to the bus.

As he strode passed the other stalls where men were packing up their gear and herding unsold slaves together to take them away, he thought about the future. Regardless of how things had been for Adeline in the past, none of that mattered now. She belonged to him; how she had been treated by Jason, or any of her other former owners had no bearing on how he should act towards her.

He needed to be able to control her. And ensure that she understood the power that he had. But he didn?t want to be unreasonable. He had to be strict but fair. And he knew he had to remain that way the whole time. And to keep on track that meant he?d have to devise a punishment for her earlier misdemeanour.

Pierre snorted quietly to himself. When he?d reprimanded her for talking to David, he hadn?t really had anything in mind. That was not good. He knew in future that he had to have some concrete form of punishment set in place so he could deal with the issue as soon as it had occurred. Or close enough to have effective impact.

Sighing, he eventually arrived back, and he could see Pat leaning out of the window waving to him to hurry up. Flipping him off, Pierre decided there would be plenty of time on the bus, travelling home, for him to come up with something. Punching in the security code, he climbed on board, and as soon as his feet were both firmly inside, the door slammed shut and their driver hit the gas. They were going home.

evilpierreowns
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:O WHY THE HELL IS PIERRE SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MEAN IN THIS STORY? :(
Chains really :O poor Adeline :(

xSTEPHx

steph1890
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