The months went by, and in June, the seniors of Appaloosa High graduated. Caps were thrown, diplomas were received, and a party was held.

The street outside Holden’s house was lined with cars, squatting suburban insects drawn to the smell of teen spirit. Faint music sounded from inside the home, echoing into the night.

“You've got an eyelash on your cheek,” Sam said as Jack slammed the car door shut and walked around to the front. She grabbed his chin and pulled him down. Obediently, he held still as she brushed it away. “Perfect. All set?” 

Jack nodded, and the pair walked up the long path to the front door. Sam had barely pressed the doorbell before the door flew open, revealing their classmate Elliot, holding a red solo cup while grinning. “And here's the conqueror herself!” he announced, to the sound of whoops and cheers. 

Sam waved her hand in mock humility as she entered, pulling Jack in behind her and shutting the door. “Oh, please. You say that like it was hard.” 

Jack looked around. The gathering was surprisingly low key. Around half the class was there, mostly sitting in a loose circle on the couch and carpet of Holden’s living room, chatting and laughing, eating and drinking, or just bobbing to the music. Holden himself sat in an armchair on the other side of the room, idly toying with the leather handle of a leash in his right hand. On the other side of the chain was Xena, naked except for a collar, sitting on the arm of the chair with her legs folded. Her huge bare breasts hung low against her tummy, and they jiggled enticingly with every movement. “Glad you could make it!” he said, smiling. “Make yourself at home.”

It was still strange for Jack to see his formerly meek best friend behaving so assertive, now that he was out from under Jack’s thumb. Holden exuded an aura of confidence and power that he'd never had before, tugging on his toy’s leash and groping her body with serene authority. If Jack were into men, he would have found it extremely hot.

Sam took note of Xena's attire and smirked at Jack. “Seems like you're out of dress code.”

It was perfectly acceptable, if a little cheeky, for owned people to be nude in public. That also extended to any sexual act performed on them, so long as their owner consented. Groping or masturbating your slave was akin to watching porn in public–a little risque, and some might disapprove, but ultimately not something worth getting hung up about. 

Despite it being perfectly natural and normal, however, Jack still found it slightly embarrassing. He blushes as he complied, pulling off his top and shimmying out of his tight pants. A few of the girls whistled and cheered as his briefs came off, eliciting an even deeper blush from him, but otherwise he was ignored by the rest of the party. 

“Scooch,” Sam said, shooing the people on the couch over to make a spot for her. She plopped down in the resulting space and looked to Jack, motioning to the ground. Jack knelt, and she took him by the collar and gently dragged him towards her, so that his body was leaning against her knees, his legs folded to the side. There, she stroked his hair as she joined in on the conversation. Jack occasionally chimed in if someone directly addressed him, but for the most part was content to let himself be lulled into a trance by Sam’s gentle petting.

“...And he's really like that all the time?” Melanie asked, when the conversation turned to the coupons. “He doesn't ever, like…break free for a bit or resist it at all?”

“Nope. Not anymore,” Sam said. “There was an adjustment period at first, of course. But he fell in line much quicker than I thought he would. Might have always been submissive at heart, and was just waiting for someone to take control.” 

“That's amazing. Those coupons are really incredible.”

Jack felt a strange erotic thrill at being talked about like he wasn't even there. He glanced across the room and his eyes met Xena's, and she smiled, eyes twinkling. No doubt she knew exactly how he was feeling.

Sam got a mischievous look in her eye. “In fact…if you want to see how well-trained he is…I've got a fun idea.” Sam leaned over and brushed Jack's hair away from his ear. “Up for a little playtime, kitty cat Jack?”

The rest of the night was a blur.

Hands. Hands on him. Hands on his cock, his chest, his throat. Hands pulling his hair. A mouth against his, his mouth on someone. Being passed around the room, being taken behind locked doors. Muted giggles from the other room. His head between a pair of legs–whose legs? He didn't remember, but Sam must have approved–

A pure feeling of deep, blissful submission as he served the people he used to torment.

When his lucidity returned, Jack was cleaning up the living room of chip bags and soda cans, a half-filled garbage bag in one hand. He blinked, dazed. Sam was passed out on the couch. Holden was on his phone, with Xena curled up on the chair next to him, also asleep. Otherwise, they were alone. The party was over.

“Finally awake?” Holden asked. Jack nodded. At some point he’d reacquired his pants (which he was grateful for–cleaning felt weird with his cock out) but his shirt was where he'd left it on the floor. He grabbed it and shimmied it on. He was getting a little cold.

“That was quite the show Sam had you putting on,” Holden said, chuckling.

Jack hummed in response. The knowledge that he was used like a good little toy lit a feeling of fuzzy satisfaction in him, even if he didn't remember the specifics of what was done to him. He was sure Sam would let him relive it later, when they were alone. If he begged. 

Holden studied him, fingers curled in his slave’s hair. “...You've really changed,” he finally said.

“Yeah.”

“Is that…” Holden hesitated. “Are you…” He fumbled, his self assured aura dropping for a moment. “...Happy with that?”

“Yes. But can you take me at my word?”

Holden dipped his head. “Fair.” He paused again. “Do you…feel happy, at least?”

Jack smiled. The distinction between being happy and feeling happy was not one he’d appreciated before. He still wasn't sure whether they were one and the same for him. “More than ever in my life.”

Holden exhaled. “Well, that will have to be good enough for me.”

“Yeah.”

“Issit? What time?” Sam slurred from the couch, pushing herself upright and rubbing her eyes. Jack leapt to his master's side.

“Party’s over,” he cooed, steadying her with his arm. “Do you want to go home?”

“Carry me to the car,” she muttered, raising her arms. Jack lifted her in a bridal carry, and her head fell against his shoulder. 

“We're off,” Jack said. “Sorry I can't stay and help clean up any longer.” 

“No worries,” Holden said. “Do as your master says.”

Jack drove them home, because Sam didn't want to. He pulled into their driveway and parked, and Sam turned to him from the passenger’s seat, cupping his face with one hand. “You were such a good boy tonight,” she murmured, stroking his cheek. Jack leaned into her touch, glowing with her praise. 

Then, her eyes narrowed slightly, and a devious smile spread across her face. “But I can think of another way you can be good for me,” she said, one hand towards his crotch, the other pulling a condom out of the glove compartment.

They fumbled their way into the backseat of the car, and soon Sam was riding him, taking him in slow, even strokes, his hands on her hips to steady her as she lost herself in pleasure. “Mine,” she said, leaning over and grabbing him by the collar. Her face was flush with triumph, with power, with ecstasy. “You're mine.”

“I'm yours,” Jack sighed, melting with pleasure and obedience, mind blank of anything besides thoughts of endless blissful servitude. “Yours forever.”

And he was.