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11:15 PM, June 4, 1999, somewhere on Lake Michigan

A stiff breeze battered the boat, rocking it gently. The man who stood on the deck never noticed the movement of the boat, he was far too accustomed to the subtle nuances after years of living on the water. And even if he hadn't been in sync with the water, he wouldn't have noticed it tonight. Not with his attention riveted on the sight in front of him. No, tonight Luka Kovac only had room in his mind for one thing: totally claiming his slave.

Stepping forward, Luka pulled on the ropes that bound the man. They were taut, but not too tight. Luka stepped away to look over the selection of whips that he had brought up out of his cabin. He wanted to make this last for a long time, so the heavier whips were out of the question. Even though his slave was no stranger to the taste of leather, Luka wanted to gently persuade him with a light and teasing taste of a flogger until he was begging for more. And Luka would be more than willing to give it to him -- in his own time, of course.

Luka's gaze passed over the leather whips and fell upon one made from rope and cloth. He lifted it up, testing the weight in his hand as he admired the workmanship that had gone into the careful braiding of the twenty-four tails. The handle fit his hand perfectly, as it should since it had been custom-made for him in Vienna. The whip would lightly tickle the flesh at first, depending on how hard he wielded it. Carefully placed lashes from this would drive his toy wild with desire. Not that he needed any assistance with that. Luka spared a glance in the man's direction, noting that every movement of the boat was already causing the weights to sway, pulling on his cock and balls. Two other weights were suspended from the nipple clamps, and the combination of them all were creating a unique sensation judging by the moans coming from the slave. The slave's white buttocks were lifted high in the air as he was bent over one of the bare yard arms and his hands were tied, with a rope leading from his wrists to a ring set in the deck, keeping his torso perpendicular. A spreader bar was keeping his legs apart and the light from the moon was illuminating him so beautifully that it nearly took Luka's breath away. The man spread out in front of him was there for him to play with as he pleased, and tonight he was pleased to play with him a lot. The other members of the club had assured him that this one was a more than willing sub, a slut to his own desires for sex and punishment. Almost all of them had been with this slut at one time or another over the past six months, and Luka had the videos to prove it. Luka's cock became hard as he remembered the first time he had ever seen this beauty. It had been at a club party at the private estate of one of the wealthier members. Luka had not wanted to attend that party, but he had let himself be lured into going by the vivid descriptions of what a slut this man was. And once there, Luka had found himself agreeing with that assessment. And aching to claim this slut for himself. Luka still couldn't quite believe that just this afternoon, they had signed a Slave Contract and that this man would be calling him 'Master' and not 'Sir' from now on. Luka was very much looking forward to the days and nights ahead. There was another reason to celebrate tonight, and that was the fact it was his slave's birthday, in more ways than one. Not only was he another year older, but he was also beginning a new life with Luka. No more would he be called "J.C." Tonight, Luka would decide what the slave's new name would be. He might use his real given name, or come up with something a little more unique. Never having had a slave of his own before, Luka wasn't sure about what to do, but he was so looking forward to learning.

Luka walked up behind the slut and ran his hand gently down his back and over his ass, letting his fingers pass lightly over his opening. "It's time to begin," Luka said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master," the slave replied, his body shivering as much from desire and anticipation as from the cool lake breeze.

Luka nodded, then counted out a precise number of paces before turning around and making a few practice swings with the whip. He and the slut had agreed upon a safe word, but his friend Mike's words of caution were still fresh in his mind: this one was a dangerous slut because he wouldn't recognize his own limits. He kept pushing for more and had to be carefully watched to make sure he wouldn't bring harm upon himself. That one fact had been made apparent to Luka over the past few weeks as he had enjoyed the pleasure of J.C.'s body. But he had overcome his reservations about the slut and decided to take him firmly in hand and train him properly. The other men at the club had complained about losing such an eager fuck toy, but their complaints were made with smiles as they knew that the younger man had finally met his match.

Luka nodded, knowing that tonight would be a great test of his own will. All too often he would get caught up in imagining that he was punishing those who had taken his most precious possessions from him. It was so easy to see the sluts as Serb soldiers and to want to beat them into submission. But he never lost himself in that. Never. Then again, he had always been with subs who never hesitated to use their safe words when things started to get too rough. What would happen if this one didn't speak out?

It would be an interesting night all around. Luka lifted his arm up and back, and soon the sound of a whip kissing flesh was mingling with the steady clanging of the bells on the buoys. The slut was deliciously writhing, panting, moaning and begging for Luka to strike him harder, to fuck him, to have him any way he wanted.

Luka ignored those pleas. He would take him when he was ready. And if it wasn't until dawn broke when the taking happened, then that would have to be something that his slave would have to accept. The morning would be when each of them found out if they had each gotten what they wanted from the encounter.

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10:25 p.m., May 18, 2000, Chicago, IL

John Carter clung to Peter Benton, finding solace in the words that Benton kept repeating over and over again, "It's going to be all right, Carter." Benton had to be right about that. It had to be all right. He had to be all right.

Finally his tears stopped and he stepped back from Benton, turning his body slightly so that the other man couldn't see his tear stained face.

"Get in the van, Carter," Benton gently said.

John nodded and he heard Benton open the passenger side door. John roughly wiped away the last traces of his tears, then got in the van.

"Damn. I don't have the keys. Stay here. I'll be right back." Benton shut the door, then sprinted away.

John's calm vanished in proportion to the steps that Benton took away from him until it was totally gone. He couldn't do this. He couldn't let them lock him away as if he was some sort of criminal. Let them get away with making accusations against him. Let them take his life away. He opened the door and hit the pavement running, knowing he had to reach his Jeep before Benton returned. He had to get away. Away from County General and his so-called friends. Away from his family. Away from his shame and guilt.


Peter's heart sank as he saw the open door of the van. "No, man. Don't do this," he whispered as he reached the van and saw with his own eyes that Carter was gone. Peter slammed his hand down hard on the side of the vehicle, not wanting to think about what could happen to Carter now. Earlier, Kerry had carefully explained that they couldn't let John go home once he agreed to go to Atlanta. There was a real risk that he might attempt suicide if they let him out of their sight, even for a short time. That had been when Peter had volunteered to be the one to drive Carter to the airport. But, he hadn't gotten the keys from Mark then. They had all thought that Carter would give in to the ultimatum. Thought there would be time for Mark to hand him the keys as he left the room. Peter had even reminded them about how stubborn Carter could be, so why then did he not remember that and make sure he had the keys in hand before the intervention began? Mentally kicking himself, he then shifted gears and tried to think about the different places where Carter might park. He had to find him. Peter slammed the door shut, then got in on the other side and took off into the night, driving slowly as he scanned the streets for sign of a red Jeep and thanking God that Carter had bought such a noticeable color this time around.


12:15 am, May 19, 2000, Chicago, IL

Luka Kovac stared blankly at yet another El train as it rumbled through the station. He knew he should go home, shake off the day and relax. But, he couldn't. He could still feel the emptiness that had been left inside his heart when he realized that he couldn't do a C-section on an unwilling patient. He had listened in agony as the heartbeat of the baby slowed and then vanished. And he had been numb when he pronounced the baby dead. He had still been numb when Kerry Weaver had told him that they had finally heard back from legal -- way too late to do the child any good. He supposed it was a good thing that he had been numb, or else he might have exploded from the anguish he felt. And it wasn't all just caused by the things that had happened to him that day. He still knew in his heart that he was right to bring the boy to County by helicopter, despite what Peter Benton said. But, the baby...was he right in letting the baby die? How could she...he didn't even want to say her name...how could the mother let her baby die? It wasn't as if she had been raped. He could understand that all too well. He had seen too many traumatized women back in Croatia who spent nine months trying to deny they had been raped by Serb soldiers, only to end up having the baby anyway. He even knew that some of those women smothered their babes at birth. He also saw women who sought out abortions to get rid of the offspring of their hated enemies. He had even had women beg him to perform the procedure, but he couldn't. Not even to help them escape the agony of carrying around a reminder of the rape. Or rapes as was usually the case. His upbringing just wouldn't allow him to do that. He was a doctor trained to heal, to bring life to the world. Not take it away. But, that didn't keep him from understanding why they didn't want their babies.

But, he couldn't understand his patient. And he wasn't sure if he even wanted to understand her. There was a time when he would have gone to the club after a day like this. Sought out relief for his pent up emotions by choosing a willing slut and toying with him until they were both satisfied. But he hadn't been to the club in nearly a year. He had gone to a few bars after that fateful night he had spent with John, but those encounters had left him empty and unfulfilled. He longed to touch John once again, but he knew he couldn't trust himself to only stop at touching. So, Luka had stopped going altogether. If he couldn't have John, then he didn't want another man period.

As another train passed by, he got to his feet, thinking that the train operators must be tired of seeing him sitting there. He walked around the bench and leaned on the railing, looking down to the street. Not too much traffic on it now. A red Jeep passed by and it made him think of John Carter again. Now, there was a person about to come completely apart, he thought. And no one except him seemed to notice it. Hell, he had seen combat veterans back in Croatia who were in better shape than Carter, and those had been veterans in desperate need of help. Tomorrow he would take Kerry aside and talk to her about Carter. Make her see that the resident wasn't as fine as he kept telling them. Perhaps the stress of them working side by side was also taking a toll on John. But, aside from raised eyebrows on the day Luka first started work at County, John had never given any indication that they had known each other already.

Luka thought back to the day he went car shopping with Carol. He had asked for Carter's assistance before he left work, and Carter willingly agreed to help him do a spinal tap on a young boy. But, Luka could tell that Carter was having problems with it. His memories were there and in the way. If not for the fact that Carol was waiting for him, Luka would have stayed and tried to talk with Carter, find out if it was just a memory or a flashback..like the ones he sometimes had of the shell hitting his apartment building. The screams for help and the crying. Watching Carter being caught up in something like that had stayed with Luka. Maybe that's why he found it so easy to tell Carol about Vukovar and what had happened.

Another red Jeep. Couldn't be that many in Chicago, not at this time of night and in this part of the city. Carol and her car. He wondered if she had sold it before moving to Seattle. He was truly glad that she was happy. He hadn't lost that much of his heart to her. But he felt so alone now. He hadn't realized it at the time, but Carol was the only person he spent time away from work with. The only one he shared his thoughts with since John had made it clear that there could be nothing between them again. Another red Jeep, no, that had to be the same Jeep. And the driver did look like Carter. But, it was going in the opposite direction as the two that had passed before.

Luka shook his head, trying to put Carol out of his mind. He must have been crazy to try to pursue a relationship with her. For crying out loud, she had just given birth to twins back in November. It was apparent to everyone but him that she still loved Doug Ross. No, he took that back. It had not been apparent to Carol.

Luka decided he needed coffee and he headed for the street. As he waited for a chance to cross the road, he swore that he saw Peter Benton drive by in Mark Greene's mini-van. But, that was impossible, right? Seeing the mini-van reminded Luka of Carol's horrified look at the idea of buying one for herself, and Luka smiled as he found himself silently agreeing with Carol's assessment of how domestically tame Mark Greene had become.

As Luka walked into Doc Magoos, Mark Greene was walking out. They nodded at each other, but no words were exchanged. Still, Luka thought that Mark looked worried. He didn't have time to think further on that as the waitress at the counter was ready to take his order. He got a strong coffee, then headed back outside, intending to go back to the El station. He was trying to pry up a piece of the lid so he could take a drink when he stepped off the curb and heard the screeching of brakes. He looked up to find the hood of a car just inches from his body. A red Jeep to be exact.

"Jesus!" John screamed as he got out of the Jeep. "Don't you have any better sense than to step into the street without looking both ways?"

"Thank you for your concern, I'm fine," Luka said.

John tried to calm down. He didn't know if Kovac, he couldn't safely think of him as being anyone but 'Kovac', not Luka, certainly not 'sir', and never again as "Master", knew about the ambush -- he refused to call it an intervention, since there hadn't been anything for them to intervene -- and he didn't want to end up being hauled back to the hospital. Kovac was bigger and could do that to him. Plus, he didn't want to stand out in the street. He knew that Benton was still out there looking for him. He had driven by the hospital enough in the past few hours to see that Mark's van wasn't still parked there.

"Sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yes. You have good brakes." And none of the coffee had spilled, Luka thought with a smile. He took a long sip, savoring the taste.

"And you should be grateful about that," John snapped.

"I am. Believe me, I am." Luka said, nodding his head vigorously.

"Headed home?"

"Yeah. Eventually, I guess. I heard that you left early. What brings you back here?"

"I've been driving around, thinking." The truth was that he was afraid to go home. For all he knew, Kerry had called his grandparents and they were waiting up for him. Ready to lock him up for his own good. He wouldn't put it past them.

"Driving in circles, I think. I've seen a red Jeep pass by several times."

That wasn't good to hear. If Luka had seen him, then so would others. He needed to get out of this neighborhood. "How about I drive you home?"

"I can take the El, it's no big deal."

"Doctor Kovac, I almost ran you over. The least I can do is make sure you get home in one piece, okay?"

Luka laughed. "Okay. But, I think that you can drop the doctor. Just call me Luka, okay?" After all that had happened between them last spring, Luka didn't understand John's insistence on formality.

"Only if you promise to call me John. I am so sick and tired of being called Carter."

"Deal."

They got into the Jeep and Luka gave John the directions to his house, then they drove off. Luka couldn't help but notice that John kept looking in the rearview mirror, as if he was afraid he was being followed.

"So, is everything all right? It's not like you to leave work early," Luka said.

"I quit. Mark and Kerry wouldn't let me see patients, so I quit. I think they might be looking for me."

"I just can't imagine you quitting. You're such a good doctor."

"Thank you. I just wish they believed that, too. Today, they...went too far. They wouldn't let me do my job. So, I quit. I don't need them judging me. It's not worth it. Never has been and never will be."

"I know how you feel. Today was not a good day for me, either. I miss my boat. When I was working as a temp, I could have a bad day and say so long. Get on the boat and go if I wanted to."

Luka immediately felt guilty for saying that when he saw the odd look that passed over John's face. Did John remember that night on the boat as vividly as he did?

"That's what I'm going to do. Just go."

"I wish I was going with you," Luka said, only half joking.


To be continued...
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