Sebastian leaned back against the mass of pillows on his bed and flipped idly through the catalogue. Beside him lay a red pen and every so often he would pick it up and circle the picture of one of the boys that caught his eye. The other catalogue, the one that contained pictures of girls, lay unheeded on the floor next to the bed.

This was only the first step, Sebastian knew, but it was an important one. Sebastian would be eighteen soon and all he had wanted for his birthday was his own personal slave. His parents agreed instantly, and why not? It was almost expected of the upper class, and Sebastian was most definitely that.

After this, his top five selections would be sent to The Institute, and the five young men would be gathered together so that Sebastian might see them in person. And then he would make his decision.

His heart jumped in his chest at the thought of having his very own slave, someone who he could touch in any way he wanted, do anything to and they could do nothing but take it. So many possibilities . . .

He turned page after page, unsatisfied with almost everyone he saw. He wanted pretty but not too pretty. He didn't want to feel like he was with a girl, after all. So far he'd already picked four, only one more to go, but that last one was turning out to be elusive.

He turned another page and looked at his options.

No.

No.

And then, he stopped, nearly frozen as his gaze landed on one of the boys.

He picked up the pen and circled his picture. Then he placed a huge star next to it.

Oh yes . . . this one. This one was perfect. At least he seemed it in the picture.

He reviewed the stats quickly. Dark, curly hair. Hazel eyes. 5'8". 18 years old. One previous owner.

He smiled, pressing his fingers over the boy's picture. He'd have to look at all five of the candidates of course. It's just the way things worked. But he already knew the one he wanted. The face to face interview would only be a formality.

Blaine.

He said the name aloud, liking the way it sounded.

Blaine.

His . . .