He stepped out on the stage, looking at the long queue of boys. It had been three years since he had been doing this, yet each time seemed like the first one.

He didn't want to be here. Didn't want to be labelled. He wanted to be free, to do what he wished for, wanted to complete his studies and be a successful lecturer in Drama, yet his destiny brought him here.

He cursed his fate each day, cursed his parents for abandoning him and leaving him on the gates of this academy. He despised everyone; the people who considered themselves above him, the people who started this lifestyle, the people who supported this lifestyle, the people who took pleasure in it.

He despised himself for not escaping this place when he had the chance, to not understand why he was being taught to be disciplined and not raise his voice when he was younger.

The room was dark, five white spotlights flashing on top of their heads. Four boys stood by his right side, highly likely to be selected and bought today.

He was wearing black jeans, covering each bit of his legs, a royal blue jumper reaching his mid thighs and white vans, his ankles peeking out.

There was no chance of him being the one to be taken by the man sitting in the comfortable chair. He was never the one to be picked, and today won't be any different. The other four boys were dressed in minimum clothing, showing off their skin for the man.

He hated them too, they were contributing to this lifestyle by agreeing to act like slaves for these men, showing off their assets rather than saving them for someone who would love them and not treat them like a sex slave. It wasn't his fault that he was a romantic at heart, that he wanted someone to love him for who he was and not just for his body.

He didn't want to get chosen, not today, not ever. He wanted to run away and never come back to this place.

Yes, they treated all of them too nicely, preparing them for the lifestyle, teaching them the supposedly right behaviour, making them learn to obey their masters.

He had grown up in this place. Learned each and every rule there was for this lifestyle, but never agreed to a single one. He protested and pushed away when it was his turn to practice or let someone use a certain instrument.

He had punched the man who had been assigned to perform with him for his first scene and ignored him when he coloured out.

He was nineteen now and still a virgin in every way and he was proud of it.

His records were marked with ill-mannered, misbehaved, disobedient, a bad submissive.

But did he care? No.

He was sixteen when he was first sent on the stage to get taken, but was rejected each time due to his record and the way he dressed, unappealing to those hungry eyes.

He had sworn to himself to never be bought by anyone. He told himself each day, that a few more days and he would be free if no one bought him until his twentieth birthday.

He looked up at the man who was sitting on the chair, glaring at him, although, he could hardly make out the man's features in the dark. He also pitied a little for the one to be selected today, for they had to spend their life with a self-centered, money bank.

They were made to stand there for fifteen minutes, before they were ordered to turn around and show their backs to the buyer.

A smirk appeared on his face. He knew he was appealing to eyes, more than anyone in their submissive academy, but no one ever got to see him and nor will this man who would obviously be staring at the other four rather than his completely clothed body.

They were sent off later, the next five boys entering from other side.

"I am sure I will get selected," one of the four spoke as soon as they were out of the room.

He shook his head to himself, snickering at how gleeful they sounded to be treated as sex slaves.

"Well, one thing we know for sure is that whoever gets selected, will live a life of riches and luxuries," the red-head gave his views.

He rolled his eyes. All the luxuries for what? Being trapped in a place you don't want to be? Oh please.

They had been informed that the dominant was one of the wealthiest men in their country, and that they had to dress their best in front of him.

He did. He dressed in his best clothes. It was not his fault that they had different standards for best.

He would rather be laughed on for covering himself than presenting himself as a meal. He would be on the cloud nine if he was rejected again. It would mean an year more before he was free.

"Don't think too much, you won't be the one going with him," one of them spoke as others snickered at him. He flipped him off and pushed him aside, making him fall on the floor with a groan and their laughs to die down before starting towards his own room.

It didn't bother him in a least bit that he wouldn't be selected, that he was not high on those standards, that his body never appealed to those dominants.

He was rather grateful that his tan skin and curves were not visible to those hounds or sex-craving maniacs, according to his terminology.

If it were possible, he would have even covered his face with a paper bag. Afterall, they were not worthy of seeing any bit of him. But he highly doubted that those maniacs looked at their faces. He was sure that they were just interested in their bodies. Eye-fucking each of them.

He might be wrong about what he thought of the lifestyle, but that was how he saw it. It might have to do with how things went in this academy, maybe at other places it was different, maybe the dominants weren't how he pictured them to be, but this was what he had deducted from years of being stuck here. Only time would tell if he was correct or not.

He was about to enter his room when the speakers blared through the hallway.

"Sub0289, report at the main office."

He groaned.

What have I done now? He asked himself.

While walking back to the main office, he saw the guy he punched clutching his stomach as he leaned against the others. He smirked at them and made his way towards the hell hole.

All the previous times he had been there, were because either he had been disobedient or... no, he had always been disobedient. Well, he didn't do anything other than that. He couldn't be obedient and agree to all those crazy punishments or rules.

He knocked on the gate lightly and entered when a voice called him inside.

"Good evening," the brown quiffed man behind the wooden table greeted him politely. This man was the new manager of the academy, and things had changed a bit since he overtook the last one. The changes had been good, if he said so himself. There were no more unnecessary punishments.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning his weight on his left foot. "What do you want, Payne? Or should I say, sir?" Although, it didn't mean he would change his attitude. He didn't notice the man sitting on the plush couch in the small yet decent office. "I haven't done anything wrong, but if you want, you can leave another nasty remark on my record. I don't give a fuck, Liam."

"Behave, Mr. Tomlinson," Liam warned him.

He leaned back on the wooden gates and glared at him, "Never."

"I am warning you," Liam spoke.

He picked on the waver in his voice. He raised his eyebrow at Liam, challenging him to do something. Everyone knew not to touch him or punish him. He was capable of throwing hard punches.

It never made sense to him that why did they bother with him and not just let him out? He was clearly the worst submissive ever. It was impossible for him to obey or submit to someone, he would punch anyone who bothered him, would throw insults like they were flowers.

"Or what?" He challenged with a smirk.

"Or you will be punished by your master," Liam motioned towards the black couch.

He glanced in that direction with a confused furrow of his eyebrows but his eyes widened in horror.

This can not be true. I can't be bought, he thought to himself. No this is a sick joke. No one would take me.

He looked back at Liam and frowned. "Stop kidding, Payne. No one in their right mind would take a misbehaved sub."

"Well, I highly doubt that's the case with Mr. Styles..." Liam retorted. He suppressed his urge to roll his eyes. He had heard about the man, Harry Styles. A great dominant who had helped many submissives and gave them a push in right direction. He never bought a sub for himself though, waiting for the right one. He wanted to smack Liam for such a bad joke. The man who was a perfect dominant wanted a broken and misbehaving submissive? Yeah, of course, so believable. "...he is a highly respected man, both in his business and BDSM lifestyle. Clearly the one who will tame you," Liam finished his rant, half of which to he didn't pay any mind.

He scoffed at him. "No one will ever buy me and no one can ever tame me."

"Whether you like it or not, you are his now. Pack your things and before you leave, sign these documents," Liam replied non-chalantely.

His eyes widened as it dawned on him that Liam was not joking around, that he was not just threatening him to behave, that his last straw of freedom was literally taken away. He shook his head, chanting a string of 'no no no' in his mind.

The dominant raised to his feet and started towards him. Wide cerulean eyes stared at their buyer until his mind clicked and he snapped his eyes down.

Confident footsteps echoed inside the small office. Black, expensive shoes came into his view, stopping in front of him.

A finger lifted his chin, permitting him to look up and lock his gaze with emerald eyes - hard and judging.

"You are mine to do as I please."

Was it wrong that he wanted to obey?

Obviously it was.

He pushed the man's hand away. "I don't belong to you, neither before signing the documents, nor after," he glared at him, not caring that he was talking back to his owner. "I already hate you."

Why did he even lower his eyes in the first place? He hated the man and it would not change. He could never submit to anyone, not even this man who seemed determined to do that.

"It will be fun taming you, Louis, or should I say, pet?" The man smirked, still carrying a disapproving look in his eyes.

"Fuck off," Louis gritted through his teeth. "I am not your play-toy, Mr. Styles," he moved past him, signing the papers and going to his room, banging the gate on his way out.

He didn't want to sign those papers but he had no other choice. While growing up in the academy, he had seen a few submissives refusing to sign the papers and then getting assaulted by their masters.

He didn't want that, he wouldn't let the man touch him without his consent.

He didn't care that he talked back or swore at his master or called him by his first name. He would hold his dignity high, wouldn't let the man dominate over him. At least for as long as he could.

-

Thoughts?

What do you feel about the protagonists?

Did you want the typical BDSM fic or was this idea better?

Have a nice day!

-Jenny. x

(Edited - 28.12.2017)