Coming of Age -- Ending Two of Four is up!

First chapter. Read, love, review, thanks!

Life, up until this point, had treated Connor very well. He had a wonderful, loving, set of parents, a little brother who up until recently he considered to be his best friend. His parents’ names were William and Elena, and his little brother was named Quinn. He didn’t know what his parents did for a living, but they spent a lot of time on vacations. Quinn was two years younger than Connor, and lived a life very similar to Connor’s. They lived in a huge, expensive house, full of marble floors and priceless art. Connor had always had maids and a cook and a personal tutor. Connor had never wanted for anything. He asked, and he received. It was as simple as that. He had a car, a motorcycle, and use of a limousine, should he ever want it. He went to a very expensive, very iconic prep school. He had lots of friends at school, a girlfriend he liked well enough and could bring home to his parents without being embarrassed. Things were, in general, great. And just last week, the summer before his final year at school, he turned eighteen.

The party his father had thrown had been amazing. It was late July and almost everyone Connor had ever met had showed up and packed themselves in and around the pool. Things were going very well; Connor was having a lot of fun, drinking just enough to make his head spin. Then the presents started. His father had replaced his car with a new one, and made some big, rambling speech about Connor upholding the family name now that he was a man, and how he knew Connor wouldn’t fail in the challenges to come. He father told the guests that his son was a fine, smart boy, who would fulfill the family traditions and make his old man proud.

The next day was when things started to go wrong.

He got home from his breakfast date with his girlfriend, Lila, in a terrible mood. She was acting strangely, and he was beginning to suspect that she was cheating on him. The thought made his teeth clench, because if it was true, she was doing it with one of his good friends. He tried to push the thought out of his head as he headed up to his room, taking the stairs two at a time. He burst through the double doors into his room, went through the first room and into the sleeping chamber to get the car keys off the nightstand. He wanted to drive out and meet up with Quinn at the beach house; they could take the boat out. The sight that greeted him made him freeze in mid step.

There was someone in his bed.

Scowling, he crept over, craning his neck a little to get a better look. Who ever it was, they were sleeping mostly naked. He saw long, pale silvery blond hair across his pillow, and the delicate swell of one hip under the cover. The girl sighed softly as he put one knee up on the bed to get closer. He could quite a bit of her back, and noticed both the fine white, threadlike scars that covered her shoulders, and the strange red inked tattoo on the back of her neck. He couldn’t tell what it was; most of it was covered by the fall of her hair, which he realized was gorgeous up close. It was almost blinding white, and perfectly straight, and very soft looking. He reached out with one hand and brushed the hair away from the back of her neck. She made that sighing sound again, and shifted a little. Connor studied the tattoo.

It was a circle with a number in it. Thirty eight. Scowling, Connor touched the girls shoulder. She rolled over, and Connor got one hell of a shock.

She was a he. The pale, lithe chest he saw was smooth and lightly muscled, with pale tiny nipples, one of which had a silver bar bell through it. He stared in shock, his confused brain trying to sort of what this all was. Then the boy in his bed opened his eyes, and Connor sucked his breath in through his teeth.

He had huge, luminous, teal colored eyes, and for being so fair haired, it was strange to see that his thick, long eyelashes were almost black. Connor took in the boy’s face; the long elegant nose, the high forehead, the small but somehow full mouth, and realized with a jolt that this boy was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. As they stared at each other, the boy very slowly sat up. He was wider shouldered than Connor had first thought, and his hair was almost to his shoulders. The boy lifted one smooth, long nailed hand and brushed his hair behind one ear. Connor saw the delicate seamless rings marching up the shell of his ear.

Connor opened his mouth, and no sound came out. The boy raised both of his pale, thin eyebrows at him and tilted his head slightly. Connor tired again, and managed a very quiet, pretty feeble, “What are you doing here?”

The boy looked confused for a moment, then hurt. Connor realized that look on the boy’s face made him feel terrible, and almost apologized, but the door opened with a loud bang before he could speak.

“Ah, morning Connor!” his father boomed loudly. The boy scrambled backwards, taking the sheets with him, and almost knocked Connor off the bed in the process. His father laughed heartily and clapped his sound on the shoulder, half to steady him and half to show his pride. “I see you two have met.”

“What the hell is going on?” Connor demanded, and scrambled off the bed. He pointed one shaking finger at the boy who was currently half hidden under the blankets. All he could see of him was his shoulder and one of those wide, strange colored eyes. “Who the hell is that?”

“That, Connor my boy, is…” his father scowled for a moment. “…well, honestly, son, he hasn’t got a name.”

Connor stared at his father for a moment, as though the man had gone nuts. Then he took a deep, calming breath and tried again. “What is he doing here?”

His father laughed. “Connor, I’m surprised at you. He’s your ward.”

“My what?”

His father rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you don’t pay much attention, do you? The boy is your ward. Now normally, yes, males of our family usually take female wards, but that’s and old, archaic tradition. I promised myself I would be the last to get a female by default.” He patted his son’s shoulder in a comforting sort of way. “Not to say I was displeased with your mother, but the idea really is very-“

“Whoa, whoa, wait a fucking minute!” his father stopped, smiling expectantly, and Connor wanted to jump up and down and scream at him. “I don’t think I really understand you. You need to slow down, and explain all of this to me.”

Just then, Quinn came into the room. “Connor, I tried to call you, but your phone must be- oh, hey! Is that your ward?”

Connor shot his little brother a murderous glare. “What. The. Fuck.” He hissed through his teeth, and both his family members looked at him like he was nuts. “Dad, can we go in another room and talk, please?”

His father shook his head. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea to leave the boy alone, so-“

“Okay, okay, fine!” Connor stomped over to the bed and climbed over it towards the boys. He saw the boy’s eye, saw the fear there, and his chest lurched. “It’s okay.” He told him softly, and the boy looked up at him expectantly. He let Connor pull the sheet away from him, but Connor stopped when he saw the boy’s nudity. He turned and looked at his father. “I’ll meet you in your study.” He told him, and William nodded and dragged Quinn out of the room. Connor turned back to the boy.

He was sitting up again, looking calmer than before. Connor got off the bed and found the boy some clothes. He expected them to be too big, but it was all he had. “Here.” He held them out, but the boy just stared at him. “Clothes. Put them on.” The boy looked confused, and shook his head very slowly, then raised both of his shoulders in a quick shrug. “You can’t dress yourself?” Connor asked, and when the boy just stared at him, his groaned. “Okay, fine. Stand up.”

The boy complied immediately, standing beside the bed, completely naked. Connor tried not to stare, although honestly it was really had. He was completely hairless from the neck down, and his penis was literally huge, even soft. Connor made a conscious effort and looked away, then moved forward, tossing the shirt onto the bed and holding out the pajama bottoms he’d found. They were soft gray and made of silk. He loved them, so he really hoped the boy didn’t do something stupid and ruin them. He bent down a little, holding them out.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.” He said, and the boy did so quickly. They were cool and soft, even though Connor’s shirt. “Put one foot in one leg, and then repeat with the other.” After a moment of confusion, the boy managed, and Connor pulled them up to his slim, girl like hips. He saw they were way too big, and sighed. “Hold these up.” He said, not surprised when the boy did so quickly. He turned and rummaged through his night stand until he found a safety pin. Then he folded the waistband in a Z shape against the boy’s hip and secured it.

“That should be okay.” He looked up at the boy, who offered him a tiny, compliant smile. The boy’s teeth were straight and blinding white, but there was something off about that smile. Connor couldn’t figure out what, so he reached for the shirt and helped the boy into that as well. As he pulled the shirt down over the boys head, his fingers skimmed his back, and the boy made a soft, unmistakable moan. Connor froze. The boy stood there calmly enough, his arms still above his head, and looked at Connor with those painfully bright eyes. Very slowly, he lowered his hands to Connor’s shoulders. Connor felt that cool, delicate touch and involuntarily shuddered. He stepped backwards, away from the boy’s hands. “Come on.” He turned and started for the door. The boy didn’t follow. Connor stopped and sighed. “Follow me.”

The boy obeyed immediately. Connor gritted his teeth together and stomped off through the house towards his father’s office.

Once inside, he threw himself onto the leather couch by the window. His father was sitting at his desk, a black lacquer box in front of him. The boy stopped by the door and waited. Connor glared at him. “Sit down.” He said, and the boy promptly dropped onto the floor, folding his knees under him. Connor groaned. “Dad, this is ridiculous.”

“You should consider yourself lucky that your ward is so compliant.” William told his son, and Connor sat up, scowling. “You should have seen your mother when I first received her. A terror, let me tell you.” He laughed.

Connor threw his hands in the air and leapt off the couch. “I don’t understand any of this.” He snapped at his father. “You need to tell me what I’m doing, what the hell you expect out of me.”

His father looked at him sternly. “I expect you to do right by your ward, Connor. Nothing more.” He gestured for Connor to come towards his desk, then turned and addressed the boy on the floor. “You as well.”

The boy looked up at Connor, as if waiting, and Connor sighed. “Yes, come here.” He told him. The boy to his feet gracefully and padded over.

“Connor, your left hand, and your ward’s right, please.” He opened the lacquer box, but the lid prevented Connor from seeing what was inside. Connor had to tell the boy to put his right hand on the desk before he would. This was getting annoying.

His father lifted two small, narrow shapes made of silver out of the box. They were both a little like an upper care B without the backbone, and Connor had time to think that they looked quite a bit like unconnected handcuffs before his father snapped them into place around each boy’s wrists. That was exactly what they were.

“What the fuck!” Connor shrieked, jerking his hand away. The cuff had locked shut, and despite Connor’s best effort, he couldn’t see a seam, or a hinge, or anything. It was a perfectly smooth band of silver metal, about the width of a pencil, but thinner than a piece of paper. “What the hell is this thing?”

“It’s a ward cuff, son.” His father explained. “You are both required to wear one for at least six months.”

Connor groaned and turned on his heel. He stomped over to the window on the far side of the room, but when he got near the couch, he heard the boy whimper. He stopped and turned. The boy had taken a couple of shaking steps to follow him, and he looked like he was in pain. “What the hell?”

“The cuff prevents you from being farther than fifteen feet away from your ward at any given moment without causing your ward intense pain.” He watched Connor’s face contort, and talked over him before he could get going. “This is not negotiable, and I don’t want to hear any stupid questions, like how do I shower or use the bathroom or sleep. You’ll figure something out.” His father stood. “In six months, the ward placement committee will discuss your work with your ward, and decided whether or not to take the cuff off.”

“Dad, I can’t-“

“Enough, Connor. I have a lot of work to do.” He pointed at the door, and after a minute, Connor huffed and stomped out, his ward following behind him. William watched the door for a moment, smiling. If things worked out well with this ward, then William expecting life to get very interesting very quickly around here.