The first 10 sentences.
Okay, it's eleven.
I know you frequent flyers will have a strange feeling of Deja Vu when reading this.
Ohannes Herod Hertz was disconsolate about having to leave the only home he had ever known. The young pleasure clone insisted on looking through his master’s bedroom for a memento.
“Son, we really don’t have time,” roughneck foreman Iker Mehmûd Macauley insisted. “The military or the Pingucury could come through here at any minute. We need to get moving early if we’re to have any hope of getting to the monastery by nightfall.”
“Let him see if he can find a little something to take with him, Ike,” Peregrine Cenric Varga countered. “The poor kid is losing everything he’s ever known. Let’s make it quick, though, Ohannes. The Pingucury usually attack at night, but they’re unpredictable. The military is supposed to protect civilians, but there’s a lot of corruption in the ranks. I’d prefer to avoid the lot of them.”
And now, the rest of the chapter.
Content warning for explicit erotica in the end paragraph.
Yeah, I know, we're all adults, and given the nature of this blog, you should probably expect this sort of thing from time to time. But as a former medical professional, I adhere to the CYA Policy and, thus, am issuing a warning to those who may be shocked by a smutty paragraph from an author who publishes smut.
“I’ll hurry,” Ohannes promised. “I just want to see if I can find some jewelry and maybe a shirt or a jacket, just a memento to remind me of Master Blackwood and connect me to him so I’ll see him again someday.”
“I hope this kid’s romantic notions don’t wind us up in a pack of trouble,” Iker muttered to Peregrine as Ohannes searched through his master’s opulent suite for keepsakes. “Do you think his master had real feelings for him? You looked at the roster. Blackwood had thirteen pretty clone boys to serve the desires of himself and his guests. He passed Skinny around like a party favor. I think he might have been proud of his sexy little investment, but I doubt they had a soul bond. Boy’s fooling himself if he believes that.”
“Ohannes is certainly naïve, but we don’t know what kind of bond he had with Blackwood. He might have been the old boy’s numero uno.”
“I know that Pretty Boy wants to rescue Blackwood, and I hope the monks can talk him out of it.”
Iker peeked into the suite. Ohannes was putting on a pair of black stone earrings shaped like stars. The willowy young man ran his finger over a pair of glimmering golden cufflinks. A black stone carved in the shape of a letter G adorned one cufflink and a letter B adorned the other.
“Put ‘em in your carrying bag and let’s scat,” Iker commanded. “We ain’t got all day to traipse down memory lane, Babycakes.”
“What was Master Blackwood’s first name?” Peregrine inquired as the trio exited the suite, Ohannes turning back for a last wistful look.
“Gabriel,” Ohannes replied. “When the other fellows and I were serving guests at a party, he was always Master Blackwood, but when we were alone together, he asked me to call him Gabe. He was always gentle with me. Even when he whipped me, he was careful not to really hurt me. I liked being spanked with the riding crop before he fucked me in front of his guests. I loved feeling his thick cock pounding my ass while I watched the partygoers jerking off.”