Shattered Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Ocean 3, and I do not profit from the writing of this story.

Author's Note: The full title of this story is Shattered Dreams and the Breaking of the Human Spirit. The site only allows fifty characters, though, so it's been shortened.

Also, this is an AU, one that completely and totally breaks away from cannon as we know it. If you don't like what's in here, that's fine. The warnings were listed before you clicked on the story. I will use your flames to keep my feet warm this winter.

That being said, enjoy the story!

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Luther "Lance" Lansfeld felt his fingers twitch as he listened to the sounds behind the door he guarded. Faint whimpers, harsh panting and grunting, and low moans could be heard, though the metal walls and door muffled most of the noise. If he pressed his ear to the door, he imagined he could hear the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, depending on the ferocity of the intercourse. Some of the men who had entered the room were not known for always being gentle, especially with a new employee, and the blond-haired man did not doubt the youth in the room would be sporting some bruises and scratches by the end of the night. It always happened, and it was Luther's job to make sure the clientele did not get too rough. Battered employees did not make any money, according to his boss Jaak, and the man was not about to tolerate any abuse towards his workers, even the new ones. Those among the clientele who did not abide by Jaak's rules were banned until they could prove they were trustworthy again and could be delicate with the help, and no one wanted to mess with Jaak.

From what Luther understood, Jaak had learned years and years ago what he needed to do in order to run a successful pleasure business. When he first started his business, he only hired the best-looking people to serve as his pleasure providers. In his opinion, no one wanted to have sex with an ugly person, unless the person was extremely inebriated and unable to tell the difference between beautiful and hideous. Unfortunately, most drunken people were also mean and became violent with others, which led to the "no drugs or outside alcohol on the premises" rule unless they wanted a drink or two in the nightclub. Most of the clients were willing to forgo the additional stimuli since they wanted the goods Jaak peddled. After all, the man taught his pleasure providers what they needed to know before allowing them to work. They performed their jobs, and they performed them beyond expectation.

There were some drawbacks, from what Jaak told him. Many of the workers were accused of talking back and refusing to perform as required, and the clientele often reported such incidents after the employees were battered to the point they could not work for two or three days. Jaak hated the fact, and he had no proof of the claims. Many of the pleasure providers claimed they were following Jaak's orders, and several of them quit after learning which side Jaak took. That cost Jaak more in the end, and the burly man disliked losing money as much as he disliked people making a fool out of him. Through many trials and many, many errors in one year alone, Jaak discovered the hard way he could not always take his customers at their word nor could he trust them to pay at the end of each transaction. As a result, he hired "muscle" to stand outside the doors of his prostitutes and to ensure each man, or woman, who entered his domain paid for services rendered. Those who protested having a guard outside the door were usually escorted from the premises, often by Jaak himself and sporting a few bruises to boot. Jaak did not tolerate anyone telling him how to run his business, and most of the clientele knew when to keep quiet where Jaak was concerned. They also knew his rules were relatively easy to follow, and everyone who wanted to do business with Jaak followed them.

A harsh yet elated cry from behind the door interrupted Luther's thoughts, and he strained to listen further before glancing at his watch. He knew the sound signaled the end of the transaction, the young man having accomplished his duties in pleasuring the sick freak who had wanted him for the half hour, and it was part of his job to make sure the client – a burly man of fifty years and with beady eyes – left at the appropriate time. The man had up to ten minutes to dress before Luther could barge in and toss him out, but something in Luther told him to enter the room beforehand. This particular client tried to get away with too much sometimes, and he was on his final notice with Jaak. He heard low voices, too low for him to catch what they were actually saying, and he did not like it. Any number of things could happen to the youth in the room, and Jaak did not want the boy broken from the experience. It was the youth's first night on the job, and, though he struck Luther as being different from other new prostitutes, there was still much he needed to learn.

Getting into the room was simple enough. Each prostitute was assigned a specific room in which he, or she, would perform the required duties, and it also served as the prostitute's living quarters. The room the prostitute was assigned to allowed access for only three people: the assigned prostitute, the assigned bodyguard, and Jaak. No one could enter the room otherwise, and no one could force one of the prostitutes into a room, either. While the system only required one to press a hand against a screen, the system also detected changes in heart rhythm, body temperature, and breathing patterns once it learned the normal patterns of the individual. If a worker was under even the slightest amount of duress, the system picked up on the signals and would refuse to open. Alerts would sound in Jaak's office, and the bodyguards, along with security, could apprehend the offending client. As Luther noted, Jaak took no chances where his prostitutes were concerned.

Luther inhaled softly then placed his hand on the required screen, waiting for the door to slide open. The metal hissed as it did, and the blond-haired man stepped inside just in time to see a lithe form with pale blond hair crash into the wall. A bellow of profanities followed, and the girth of the client lunged towards the young man. It was all Luther needed to see for him to spring into action.

Since the room itself was on the small side, Luther reached the client in two steps. With one hand, he grabbed a fistful of salt-n-pepper hair and brought the burly man down to his knees with an expert twist of the course strands. The client yelped in surprise and twisted around to stared at Luther, his beady eyes wide in shock and fear as he realized his mistake.

Like Jaak, Luther had created a name for himself within the business. Most of the prostitutes did not like him as he rarely smiled at them. Hell, he barely acknowledged them, either, and most of them did not care for it. They loved it, though, when Luther stood outside their doors to protect them when their usual bodyguards required a night off. Out of all the guards, only Luther was in rotation. No one wanted him as a permanent fixture outside his or her room, and it suited Luther fine. He was able to intimidate the worst of the clients that way, and all he really needed to do was cast a single, stony glance at a person before he (or she) hurried out of the room. Tonight would be no exception, and the grizzled old fool was already sputtering out apologies. He even begged Luther to relinquish his hold, and he would be on his way. Satisfied, the blond-haired man nodded, but he never took his eyes off the man. Luther trusted no one, he never had, and he was not about to start, either.

Once the client was dressed, he scurried out the door, and it slid shut with another hiss. Luther snorted with indifference then turned his attention to his temporary ward. The youth was already on his feet and shaking his head a little. If anything, he was more dazed than bruised by this encounter, and Luther knew the youth was extremely lucky. In other places, he had seen the grizzled man, the youth's last client, take down twenty men in one fight on two different occasions, and the man feared no one save Jaak and Luther. Given his ward's slender build, the old man could have done much worse to the youth.

"Are you all right?" Luther asked, his tone gruff. The youth, a seventeen-year-old by the name of Fen, nodded, his knees wobbling a little. He offered Luther a hint of a smile, but the faint shimmer of tears in his eyes betrayed his true emotional state. Seeing the shimmer had Luther wondering if the boy had been truly prepared for the evening. He had been in the room when Fen interviewed with Jaak about a potential opening, and the youth confessed he had never been intimate with anyone before. Tonight marked the end of his virginity and his innocence.

'He must have,' he reasoned. 'He's been through ten clients already. Most of the new ones can barely manage three, especially if they're virgins. It's a wonder he's even standing right this moment.'

Luther, oddly enough, found such information to be disturbing at best, even as Fen answered him.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"What happened?" Luther leaned against the closest wall as he spoke, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Fen shrugged, somewhat casually, then took a few steps. He winced a little from the pain then straightened his back and took a few more steps. Once he was satisfied he would not hit the floor, Fen entered the small bathroom and turned on the water faucet.

"He wanted to go again," Fen replied, "and I told him he'd have to pay for it, like he's supposed to do. He didn't like it so he got mad."

Luther raised an eyebrow at Fen's confession, more than slightly surprised by this revelation and the truth in the words. Most of the prostitutes claimed they never knew why a client tried to beat them, and they turned on the tears as a way of swaying Jaak once he appeared to investigate the incident. While Fen was genuinely close to tears, Luther believed it was for something else rather than being tossed against the wall. The blond-haired man moved to where he could see his temporary ward.

Fen stood over the sink, splashing water on his face. Luther noted the right side of the youth's face was turning from red to a light lavender hue, the beginnings of a bruise. If the other guards heard the crash and saw Fen's last client, undoubtedly they would have contacted Jaak immediately. The boss man would be at Fen's door in less than five minutes.

"That's it?" Luther said. "He wanted to have another shot at your ass and you told him he'd have to pay again?"

"Yeah . . ." Fen reached for a hand towel and dried off his face. Then he set about cleaning the rest of his body, albeit with some difficulty. "He only paid for half an hour. His time was up."

Luther refrained from whistling in amazement. New and inexperienced prostitutes hardly ever paid attention for the time a client paid. If a man, or a woman, wanted more sex, the newbie simply allowed it to happen and would wind up in trouble with Jaak since the time was not paid for in advance. Granted, Jaak never truly lost money since the bodyguards kept track of the time and the clientele, but hearing this coming from Fen actually shocked Luther. Perhaps the boy was not as naïve as Luther originally thought.

"Impressive," Luther murmured. He stepped to one side the moment Fen left the bathroom. "Not many pay attention to details like that."

"Not many are like me," Fen retorted. He walked towards the room's small closet, picking up his discarded shirt and blue jeans along the way. Jaak provided his prostitutes with what he felt to be the proper attire, each male and female allotted fifteen outfits. Nine of Fen's shirts lay on the closet floor, soon joined by the tenth. From what he could see, only one pair of the pants had been removed, and Fen was slipping back into them.

"I suppose not," he murmured. "Fen . . . what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" The youth reached for a black, gauzy sleeveless shirt, tiny sequins sewn into the hemline.

"Again?" This time, Luther could not contain his shock. Only the best of Jaak's prostitutes could handle multiple clients, and even they stopped after a certain number. What that number was, Luther did not know, but he felt certain they did not entertain eleven clients in one night. Fen could barely stand from his encounter with his last client, and Luther knew he needed to stop the youth before he could do serious harm to himself. Jaak would not be happy if Fen became unable to perform due to rash decisions.

"Yes. Again." Fen slipped the shirt over his head, and he turned to face the blond.

"What are you trying to prove?" Luther demanded. His orders were to allow Fen as many clients he thought he could physically handle and to guarantee his safety, but this was going beyond ridiculous. Fen had been taken numerous times, and his first client had been a man with a ferocious and wild sexual appetite. It was a wonder he was still on his feet.

"Nothing," Fen replied. Wincing, he turned from Luther and sat down in the only chair. The youth pulled a pair of nylon stockings on then the calf-high leather boots Jaak provided for him. Once he was finished dressing, he stood up and quickly changed the sheets and blankets on the bed. Then Fen reached for his jacket, a white leather trench coat with white faux fur lining the neck and cuffs.

"Nothing?" Luther echoed. "You've already seen more clients in one night than a new employee sees in three. You don't need to go downstairs again."

"Actually, I do." Fen's green eyes landed on him, and Luther found himself hesitating. Fierce determination shone in the youth's eyes, and the blond received the impression Fen knew something he did not. He did not like the sensation. It made him feel as if he was not in control of the situation, and Luther despised losing control.

"You do. And why's that?"

"Have you ever stopped to think what it costs to run a business, especially one like this?"

Luther stopped short, surprise overtaking him for a third time in less than ten minutes. Of all the things Fen could have said to him, what Jaak had to do was not one of them, and a new thought occurred to Luther. Perhaps Fen was not as stupid as the rest of Jaak's prostitutes and if the youth did not tread carefully, he would be dead within a year. Part of the job was acting with discretion, and Fen needed to understand as much.

"No . . ." Actually, he knew what it cost Jaak to run the business, having figured it out the first night he stood outside someone's door, and that had been four years ago. Luther simply wanted to hear what Fen had to say about the matter.

"I have," Fen answered in a soft tone. "I know what Jaak charges and what it goes for. In order for me to make up for everything he's doing and everything he's given me, I need to go back downstairs. I have to get at least eleven clients in to make everything worth his while. At least eleven. Otherwise, I'm more of a liability than a gain."

Luther frowned, something tickling in the back of his mind about how wrong this situation was. No one traveled to Aquariana seeking to be a prostitute or a pleasure provider, as some places called the hire help. People came to the planet hoping to become a famous singer or dancer, not a whore. Aquariana was one of those places where dreams were either realized or shattered, and Luther did not believe Fen was the exception. The boy was hiding something or from someone, and it probably had not occurred to him his actions would bring him unwanted attention. Luther could not allow such a thing to happen . . . not until he discovered Fen's secret at any rate. Why he cared, Luther could not say other than Fen intrigued him, and, to his personal surprise, he found he wanted to be assigned to the youth on a permanent basis, if only to save Fen from himself. He uncrossed his arms and closed the distance between him and Fen.

"I think Jaak would disagree with that assessment," Luther murmured. "As I said, you've already seen more clients in a single night than most new prostitutes see in two or three days."

"Would he agree with you, though?" Fen inquired. "He said I could see as many as I could handle . . ."

"Which you've gone beyond," Luther interrupted. "He will not hold it against you if you switch on the black light and rested. In fact, given your last client's violent outburst, he might insist upon it."

Fen let out a sigh and shook his head. His determination had not waned, informing Luther his argument was not about to be heeded. It was his turn to shake his head and sigh.

"You're going to make yourself sick doing this," he growled. He grabbed Fen by the arm and pulled him towards the door. "Let's go then if you're set on it."

Fen almost lost his balance because of Luther's tug, but the youth immediately righted himself to keep up with the blond. They had just reached the door when it slid open again, this time revealing Jaak and two of his meatheads.

By all rights, Jaak did not really have any use for his two over-muscled guards. He was a tall man, a little on the lean side, but with a strong, muscular physique and a clean-shaven appearance. Very few mistook Jaak for being a weakling and unable to defend himself, despite the two goons who followed him everywhere.

Jaak took one glance at Luther then at Fen before pointing at the youth's reddened cheek.

"Who did this?" he asked.

"My last client," Fen replied. Luther sensed the youth's resolve wavering a little in Jaak's presence. The platinum blond-haired man raised an eyebrow at Fen's statement, his attention returning to Luther.

"Is that true, Lance?" Jaak inquired. He did not appear to be pleased.

"Yes, Master Jaak," Luther said. "It was his last client. Yeardsley."

"What happened?"

"According to Fen, Yeardsley wanted to keep going with his time limit expired. Fen informed him he needed to pay. Again."

Jaak let out a soft growl of frustration. He turned to the goon on his right.

"Yeardsley is banned."

"Yes, Master Jaak."

The man bowed slightly, took one step back, and turned to leave. With no other words, he disappeared down the corridor. Jaak nodded in satisfaction, his gaze landing back on Fen.

"You told a client he needed to pay again?"

"Yes, Master Jaak." Fen nodded. Luther did not dare to glance at his ward, only able to imagine the nervousness the youth must have been feeling. "He only paid for a half hour session."

"You were keeping track?" To Luther, Jaak sounded amused and a bit surprised. Again, Fen nodded.

"Yes, Master Jaak."

The boss man let out a low whistle then a hearty chuckle.

"Good job, my boy. Most in your position rarely do that much. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Master Jaak."

"Yes . . ." Jaak paused, his smile still in place. "How many has he seen tonight, Lance?"

"Ten clients, Master Jaak." Luther wanted to grind his teeth for calling the man master. He loathed taking orders, especially given his unique status. Then again, no one in Jaak's establishment knew the first thing about Luther or his secret, deadly truth.

"Wow . . . ten clients, huh? Must be trying to make a new record for the newbies or trying to prove a point," Jaak murmured. Then he shrugged. "Ah well. Doesn't matter, does it? Take the rest of the night off, Fen. Tomorrow is another day."

"Master Jaak . . ."

"I mean it. Take the rest of the night off. You've done good for the night. Now rest up and get something to eat, okay? Lance, please make sure he eats something. He's got to be starving after ten rounds."

"Yes, Master Jaak," Luther murmured, this time bowing. He felt vindicated, and his ire at having to obey the platinum blond lessened. Fen would not be servicing another client tonight. He turned to face the youth, keeping his expression neutral. "You heard him."

"Yeah . . . I heard him," Fen replied. He did not look as disappointed as Luther thought he would be, but then the magical number of eleven was something Fen had calculated, not something he truly wanted to do. "Let's go."

"Good, good." Jaak rubbed his hands together. "Glad to see you two getting along. Lance, when he's eaten something and settled in, I want you to come see me. It's about time we had a nice, long talk. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, Master Jaak."

* * *

Fayt was not about to admit it, but he felt famished, as if he had not eaten a decent meal in weeks. He had not known sex could make anyone feel as hungry as he felt at that moment, and he had been rather relieved when his boss, Jaak, told him to take the rest of the night off.

So far, the man had been kind to him, far kinder than what Fayt heard about the lithe yet imposing male, and for that he was terribly grateful. The seventeen-year-old was not sure if he could handle another man's dick in his ass or down his throat that night, though he knew the amount of sex he had was only going to increase the longer he stayed with Jaak.

Becoming a prostitute had not been Fayt's ideal job or career choice, but it was also something no one had forced him to do. When he first approached Jaak about a job – he had seen a help wanted sign in one of the building's windows – Fayt had intended to do something simple and relatively mindless, like clear tables or serve drinks at the bar. He had not expected for Jaak to take one look at him and comment on his appearance. Fayt had also not expected for the series of personal questions that followed, and he almost had walked out the door.

However, he was in hiding, a runaway of sorts. His parents, if they even noticed he was gone, would be looking for him, and Fayt did not want to return to the life they had in mind. Well, it was not the life they had in mind, either, but, from the conversations Fayt had eavesdropped on, they were in no position to argue. The Pangalactic Federation was determined to use Fayt in a way that would only be beneficial to one group of people, and Fayt had no intentions of letting anyone use him to harm others. That was why he had dyed his hair to a pale blond and traveled to Aquariana, telling everyone his name was Fen.

Ultimately, despite his discomfort over Jaak's questions, Fayt kept still and said he would take whatever position the older man had available. Since he was of legal age for prostitution – Aquariana's laws stated seventeen years made a person an adult – Jaak hired him for the servicing of clients, and two other men, one of them his bodyguard for the night, showed Fayt to a small, private room where he would be expected to work. Along the way, one of the men informed him of what his duties were, the kind of clothing most of the prostitutes there wore, and how he housed all of his employees, including the bartenders and waitresses.

For the prostitutes, each small apartment contained six rooms so the individual could be self-proficient. Every employee's home possessed a small kitchen, a bathroom, a living area, and a bedroom, the prostitutes earning two. Jaak believed in keeping things separate and simple. One bedroom was for servicing and entertaining the clients while the other was for actual rest, which Fayt appreciated. Given what happened after he was shown to his apartment, he felt fairly certain he would not be able sleep in the one bed without remembering each and every act he had performed.

Suppressing a sigh, Fayt lowered himself into the steaming water of the bath he had drawn for himself, hissing at the contact with his abused anus, and closed his eyes. Lance insisted he wash up first, that it would help him to relax after the night's events. He spoke with the same authoritative tone as Jaak, and Fayt knew it would be useless to argue the point. Not that he would have, anyway. His skin crawled because of the acts he had performed, and he was not sure of what to make of his emotions. A part of him wanted to vomit then run away, again. It reasoned that what he had endured bordered on sexual abuse, and no one should be forced to lose his virginity in such a manner. He could always leave and never look back.

However, another section of his mind whispered he could do no such thing. He had told Jaak, after all, he would do whatever the man required of him, and the act of selling his body to others was the agreement. Jaak had not hidden that fact from him during the interview process. Fayt could have always told Jaak 'no' once he learned what was desired of him and left. That would have been the end of it. The same little voice also hinted he would have ended up as a prostitute anyway or he would have died, especially with his choice of Aquariana as a hiding place. His money would have run out and whatever job he found to supplement his cash would eventually not be enough to support him. At least in approaching Jaak and knowing what was expected of him, he had a place to live, one more thing he did not have since his arrival, and a chance to eat every day. He also had someone to watch over him and guard him from people like Yeardsley. Fayt knew he would not be able to say that if he were anywhere else.

A light knock on the bathroom door brought Fayt out of his reverie, and he opened his eyes. He knew Lance stood on the other side, his stoic expression in place.

"Food is on its way, Fen," the blond said, his voice muffled. "It'll be here in less than ten minutes. If you want to eat it while it's still hot, you might want to hurry."

"I'll be out in a moment," Fayt called out. He quickly scrubbed the sweat and the sex from his body and washed his hair, noticing he felt significantly better for the cleaning. His mind cleared, and he could focus on other things. The ache in his backside subsided a little, making it tolerable for him to walk. He knew he should not have been able to after the first two clients, but his determination to meet his personal quota kept him moving.

Once he was out of the tub and dried, Fayt slipped into a soft, white robe and left the bathroom. The smell of freshly cooked chicken enchiladas greeted him, and his stomach rumbled at the pleasing aroma. Lance stood beside the kitchen table, two containers of the foodstuffs opened and ready to be consumed. Fayt offered his temporary guard a tired yet grateful smile. The man never returned the gesture, but Fayt did not care. Lance was like that, and he could accept the fact graciously. At least for tonight, he had someone strong looking out for him. It was more than he could have asked, and he hoped Lance would watch over him again.

'Maybe Jaak will assign him to me permanently,' Fayt thought as he hurried as best he could over to the table. His stomach kept on rumbling, indicating how hungry he was. 'He's good. I don't see why he hasn't already been given a permanent ward. I can always hope for that.'

* * *

Jaak looked at the numbers for his latest prostitute, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. A smile also graced his features as he gazed at the names of each individual who had humped the daylights out of Fen. He never thought the boy would be able to handle ten customers in one night, let alone some high profile people on Aquariana, but the numbers and the names were there all the same. Lance was thorough with his documentation, so thorough it bordered on perfectionism. It was one thing Jaak really liked about the golden-haired man, aside from his ability to keep his prostitutes safe from harm. Jaak tore his attention away from Lance's documents so he could stare at the one picture he had snapped of Fen the moment the youth entered his office.

The youth had charisma, and intelligence, and he possessed the ability to draw even the most straight-laced person to him so he or she could live out the sickest of fantasies. There were no doubts in Jaak's mind about that, and he realized he could bring in some serious clientele and cash into his establishment with Fen alone. People were freaks when it came to sex and how tight an ass or a pussy could be, especially when said ass or pussy belonged to one hell of a gorgeous being.

'Patience, though,' he cautioned himself when he saw where his thoughts were heading. 'Patience. Fen's still young. Too much will break him, and I certainly don't want that. There are other ways to utilize his talents. Tomorrow, I'll train him personally, see what we can bring out with him.'

Jaak's smile grew wider, and he set Fen's picture down. Tomorrow, he would truly discover what Fen's clients had experienced. Tomorrow, he would start to hone in on whatever it was that had drawn those people to him. In the meantime, he would have to wait and let his imagination run wild.