Freedom

1. Gabriel's schedule

Gabriel rolled out of bed to the alarm going off. He looked around the room, seeing his coworkers still asleep.  Reaching out to shut the alarm off as he yawned, he stood up, shuffling towards the bathroom for a shower. His back hurt from bottoming for a particularly pent-up man last night. He honestly hated the BDSM rooms. He would much rather play his part in one of the vanilla rooms. At least then he had a chance of not waking up sore every morning.

Gabriel stopped in front of the mirror, staring at the light purple mark on his hip. He would have to report it to the owner. The patrons were allowed to do anything they wanted to his body, as long as they did not leave marks. It might make the next customer uncomfortable to see them, and they couldn't have that after all.

The shower warmed up as he examined the bruise. It wasn't too bad, but it stood out against his creamy white skin enough to not be overlooked. The man would have to be banned now. Gabriel didn't mind. He was not a fan of the men who liked to leave marks, and there were other places for them to go for their pleasure. 

He climbed into the shower, scrubbing the previous day off his body. He winced as he washed the sore areas, letting his mind wander to what it would be like to not work here. For most of the workers, they worked until they paid off their debts, then saved up until they could pay the fee to leave. Gabriel knew of quite a few that had left and gotten married or moved away, all getting to have normal lives.

That would not be the case for him. He brought in the most money to the club out of all the men and women who worked there. He was also one of the only people willing to take repeat customers. It didn't matter to him if people requested him. Most of the workers preferred to not take the same person more than once. They also had fake names that they used. His roommates, Mat, Rylie, and Jim, for example, went by Ezekiel, Cupid, and Raphael. Angel names to match the atmosphere.  Gabriel on the other hand, had no reason to use a fake name with his already being what it was, and having no hope of actually getting free from this place.

The average price to leave was $20,000, what each worker normally made in a year. Gabriel's price was $75,000 for now. Each time he had gotten close to making enough, the price raised by another thousand or two. Gabriel knew what Castiel, the owner,  was doing. He didn't want to lose his prized worker, but he was powerless to do anything. So he accepted his fate and worked. At least here, there was no risk of him being beaten and raped. The workers were allowed to turn away a client at any point if things went to far.

Truthfully, Gabriel thought as he rinsed the soap from his body, he was scared to press his luck. Castiel had threatened before to put him in the auction. It was what he did when a worker was becoming a problem or wasn't making enough money. They were auctioned off to the highest bidder, normally another club, but sometimes they were sold to the corner owners. The men who made their workers troll the streets for John's.

The risk of that was to scary for even Gabriel to push back. He would do as hebwas told. Maybe at some point Castiel would stop raising his fee. Gabriel scoffed at that, he normally did not let his mind think that way. Castwould never let him go, there was no point hoping he would.

Gabriel felt his eyes prick with tears, he had done nothing to deserve this life. He was a good kid, but his father had a problem. He was deep in debt, and couldn't hold down a job. The only think he could do, was sell his 16 year old son into the sex industry. Now he was 20, his father was dead from overdosing, and he was going to be stuck here for the rest of his life. 

He wiped at his face, stopping the tears before his eyes get red and puffy. He never let himself cry before work.

He got out the shower,  turning off the water and getting dressed in his "normal" clothes. It was a pair of Grey sweat pants and a matching grey hoodie. There was no point in him spending his money on real clothes when he would never need them.

Gabriel left his room, heading to the kitchen to make something to eat. He grabbed a bowl and spoon, pouring some cereal and milk in. He slowly ate, looking over his schedule on his phone.

Gabriel groaned when he saw that his services in the Sub room were booked all day.

"Great."

He said to himself. It wasn't that he preferred to be in charge, but he was sore and in a bad mood. That did not pare well with the role he was going to have to play with, he counted the bookings, five men today. At least it was only five. Yesterday he had eight bookings. At least now he might be able to go to bed at a reasonable time tonight.

Gabriel finished his breakfast, washing the bowl out and heading to the dressing rooms. He had an hour before his first client showed up. He went the long way, stopping by Castiels office to show him the bruise and give him the name of the man who had left it.

He got to the dressing room and pulled off his clothes, slipping into the flimsy underwear and robe that he used between clients. He sat down, pulling a book out of his locker and reading until  it was time to go. He put his phone, book, and clothes into his locker and made his way to the Sub room, handing his robe on the hook outside the door and kneeling in the center of the room as the door opened for the first customer of the day.