Marketplace (51 page)

Except that she was being
cuddled by Alexandra and he was being shaken awake every hour or so
by some fellow slave who wanted to try the new victim in the dorm.
Thankfully, no one asked questions, and no one wanted to get
elaborate.

As he watched the sun come
up, he half believed that he really lived like this. Am I a man
dreaming I’m a slave, he thought, or a slave dreaming I’m a
man?

* * * *

He was sent back to the
dorm for the next night as well, minus the punishment tags. He had
spent that day in silence anyway, forbidden to do anything but
menial tasks, ignored and unused. It was almost a relief to go into
a room where he could have a conversation with someone. There was a
slave, a woman, chained in the bed he was taken to the previous
night. She was as popular as he had been, perhaps more so, since
more of her was available. But he did not partake.

“Don’t leave me,” Rachel
said, in the silence of the room. Alexandra, who had just slipped
into her robe, looked back at the bed and then walked back to sit
on the edge. “I hadn’t planned to,” she said, patting Rachel’s leg.
“But in the absence of someone to send for these things, I thought
you might like a drink.”

Rachel sat up and pulled
her legs away, scowling. “So that’s my fault?”

“Nope, it’s his,” Alex
said. She studied Rachel thoughtfully. “Come on, sweetheart. You
know better than this.”

Rachel sighed and grabbed
pillows to make herself more comfortable, not answering. Alex got
up and left the room, and when she came back, Rachel had pulled a
T-shirt on and turned on one of the lights. She took the glass of
water and put it down after a sip.

“Why did you have to send
him back again?” Rachel asked. To Alex’s relief, the question
didn’t come out whining or bitter.

“That was Grendel’s
decision,” she responded. “He’s pretty much in charge of Chris, you
know that. But... I can tell you that he’ll be back here tomorrow
night. Gren misses him, too.” She didn’t add that Grendel
especially missed Chris because Alex had been so busy catering to
Rachel. Not that Gren suffered unduly; the Argentine master had
practically insisted on sending the handsome male slave
over.

“I will never understand
that punishment crap,” Rachel said suddenly. “It’s one thing to
smack someone around a little because they fucked up, and you get
to hurt them. But what use is it if Chris is unhappy and Grendel
and... and me?” She folded her arms over her knees and just looked
sad, no longer distressed.

“Well, luckily, you don’t
have to worry about that very often,” Alex said. “But I assure you
that Chris isn’t angry with you, if that’s what you’re worrying
about.”

“How can he be angry with
me when he’s so busy being angry at himself?” Rachel snapped.
“Jesus, you guys don’t even have to punish him, you
know.”

Alexandra smiled. “Oh, yes
we do,” she said.

Rachel looked at the older
woman and sighed again. She nodded sadly, a look of resignation on
her face. “I know,” she said softly. “But I didn’t have to be a
part of it. I shouldn’t ever be his boss, ever. Next time, I won’t
agree.”

Alex climbed onto the bed
next to her and wrapped one arm around her comfortably. “OK,” she
said. “Back to normal when we get home. But in the
meantime...?”

Rachel nodded. “I’ll stay
here,” she said. “I don’t want another room. I want to be with you
guys.”

Alex held onto her for a
while, until Rachel started to get sleepy. She could hear the
suite’s outer door open and close, and knew that Grendel had
decided not to keep the loaned slave for the night. Well, that
wasn’t a surprise. Grendel hadn’t actually told Alex that he was
going to lift Chris’s banishment, but she knew her partner better
than anyone.

* * * *

Two days later, it was
almost as if the entire incident had not occurred. Chris was back
at his duties, Grendel used him, Alex took the personal services
she most enjoyed of him. But Rachel avoided him, which was kind of
hard to do in a three-room suite. She could barely bring herself to
ask him for anything. She took a sudden interest in excursions and
activities she yawned at before, and started dancing at the disco
until late.

One afternoon of lazy
pleasure left Grendel and Alex lying on the bed together, letting
the cool breezes dry the sweat from their bodies. Chris would have
brought towels and cool drinks, except that his hands were tied
behind his back and he was still blindfolded, and no one had felt
like moving enough to free him. They all heard the suite door open,
and then the shower running, and finally Alex rolled over and
reached down to take Chris’s blindfold off. He blinked in the half
light and heaved himself up so she could undo the knots while she
lay over the edge of the bed.

“There’s something for you
in that plastic bag by the door,” she said as she unwound the rope.
“Take it and make peace with Rachel in any way
possible.”

Chris rotated and massaged
his wrists and stood up. The thin cotton cloth in the bag was not
too garish, but a deep, indigo blue with batik designs of fish on
it. He stood with it in his hands for a moment.

“You do know how to wear
it, don’t you?”

He looked back at them.
Grendel was up on one elbow, watching. “Yes, Madame. Thank
you.“

It wrapped around his hips
with plenty to spare. He layered the edges together and made a
tight knot, feeling the light material brush against his smooth
legs. He had an odd flash of his older brother with a towel around
his waist, long, hard torso and narrow hips, so like the handsome
pleasure slave only so much more masculine. A man like that could
wear a sarong and look like an exotic tropical god, fresh from a
sun-drenched beach or steaming jungle.

Across the room in the
darkening mirror, a short, vaguely dumpy man with scars wore a long
skirt and looked back at him. He dropped his eyes, but squared his
shoulders and said again, “Thank you, Madame.”

* * * *

Rachel was wrapped in her
towel, brushing her hair back when she called for him to enter. She
glanced over at the door, and gasped, and then covered her
mouth.

“Oh, shit, shit, I can’t
believe they made you do this,” she moaned. “Oh my God, Chris, I’m
so sorry, oh, Jesus fucking Christ, I didn’t mean it! It was just a
joke, really...”

“Shh, shh,” Chris said,
putting out a hand. “It’s all right.”

“What do you mean, it’s all
right?” she insisted. Then her eyes widened. “Hey! You’re off
formal manners?”

“No. I’ve been given
permission to make peace with you in any way possible. I just
thought you might find it easier to—” He smiled slightly. “Talk
normal.” He closed the door behind him and then approached her and
knelt, first on one knee then the other, so as not to trip on the
sarong. “First of all,” he said before she could object, “I am
truly sorry I disobeyed you. Obviously, you were right. I would
have done it if Grendel or Alex ordered it. It was disrespectful to
you.”

“No, no, it was all my
fault, I should have never mentioned it, I should have never told
you to wear a skirt. My own fucking skirt! Me, of all people, I
swear, I don’t know what I was thinking, I swear!” She bent down
and then just got on her knees next to him and threw her arms
around him. “Oh, shit, Chris, please, please, I’m so fucking sorry!
I didn’t mean it, I didn’t want to get you into real
trouble!”

He hugged her back and
sighed into her damp hair. She still smelled of coconut oil and
fresh soap, and she was warm in his arms.

“Well, it’s all right now,”
he said, getting up and lifting her with him. “See, I’m even in a
sarong. I hope you can agree that it does not suit me.”

She hiccoughed and wiped
tears from her eyes as she took a longer look at him. Then she
laughed. “But it does look cute,” she insisted, and then hiccoughed
again. “And come on, I wear that fucking maids uniform when the
clients come in. That isn’t the hottest look on the planet you
know.”

There were a number of
things Chris could say to that, but all he said was, “You’re
entirely right. So what do you say we forgive each
other?”

Rachel nodded
energetically, and hugged him again, and kissed him on the mouth.
Then, giggling, she pulled him down onto the bed and lay next to
him. “I still think it looks cute,” she said, running a finger
along the rolled edge. “God, you’re losing weight, Parker. I’m so
fucking sorry Grendel made you shave.” She ran her hand across his
chest and stomach.

“It’ll grow back,” he said,
cocking one arm behind his head. “Besides, it’s about time I
started the work on the tattoo.” He ran a finger idly across his
chest. “Under here... and all the way down. I’ll use Wolf, I like
the job he did on your winged disk.”

“Good,” she murmured. She
put her head down on his stomach, holding onto him, and he stroked
her hair. Soon, though, her hands started roaming again, and he
caught them and rolled her over onto her back.

“Anything necessary,” he
said, with that old teasing light in his eyes. “Want to kiss and
make up?”

“Hell with that, let’s fuck
and make up,” she purred.

* * * *

When Chris came out a while
later, Grendel put down the paper he was reading out on the
verandah and said, “For crying out loud, boy, take that thing off.
Put some pants on and look decent. You’d think this was a gay
bathhouse or something. And get over here and make the news more
interesting.”

“Right away, Master,” Chris
said as he headed back the bedroom to get his proper clothes. Alex
looked up from her novel and said, “Finally!” and moved her chair
for a better position to watch from.

Rachel talked Chris into
going with her to see what she called the glow-in-the-dark fish
after dinner, and Alex waved them off easily. She took Grendel over
to the cafe for coffee and music, and as they walked back toward
their building, she took his hand.

“It’s not going to work
like this for much longer,” Alex said gently.

“I know,” Grendel replied.
He sighed. “We can’t afford him.”

“In more ways than
one.”

“True.”

They walked on together.
“I’ll call her when we get back,” he said, thinking of Chris’s own
trainer and the many bargains which existed between them. “He needs
a better placement or he needs his own house.” He didn’t mention
what he really thought Chris needed.

“He also needs to present
at the Academy,” Alex added. “Shall we take him to Europe when we
go? It’ll be a good chance for him to meet some of the hotshots in
a less formal setting. And it could be a last fling.”

Grendel put his arm around
Alex’s shoulders. “I think this is that last fling,” he said. He
loved her for offering it, though.

“Then let’s make the most
of it,” she said. “Take him in hand, Mr. Elliot and keep that leash
tight for the next week.”

“You know, I never put him
on a leash,” Grendel said.

Alex looked up at him and
smiled. “There are leashes, and there are leashes.”

Grendel hugged her tighter
as he nodded.

FOR WANT OF A
NAIL

A bonus story for the
Luster Editions/Circlet Press ebook of The Marketplace

The ambulance pulled away at two, just
as the glazier arrived. Chris could see them both through the
window as he waited on hold. Thunder crashed; it was technically
too early for a Nor’easter, but water spouts had been spotted off
the north shore, and out of a sunny afternoon a deepening gray sky
had grown and harsh winds shook the pin oaks on the front lawns. In
retrospect, he thought, perhaps this wasn’t the best day for a
party.

“We’d like to give a dinner party;
semi-formal, six guests, five courses, I think, with local wine
pairings, for Friday next.”

“Very good, Ma’am.” Chris took the
sheet of paper Alexandra passed him and scanned the guest list
quickly. “Do you have any other requirements or desires for
this?”

“Of course,” Grendel interjected from
his stance by the fireplace. “I was thinking this would be a good
chance to see how well Brian has improved. He needs a test before
we send him to auction. So, I want you to be as hands-off as
possible about this; let him do as much as he can in the majordomo
position of authority. I want Enid and Ramesh as waiters, of
course, but they should also do some kitchen tasks.”

Chris nodded and made his own notes.
“Full livery, Sir?”

“Oh, God, yes, let’s keep everyone
clothed. Oh, and speaking of the kitchen, you’ll have to work with
Muira on this; she’s got that night off.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, pen poised.
“Would you prefer I hire a chef for the dinner, then?”

“No, I’d prefer you figure out what
she can do before she leaves and have the trainees do some prep
work. You can finish up in the kitchen yourself.” Grendel looked
positively gleeful at the prospect, watching Chris ponder even as
the shorter man was nodding in acceptance of the command. “I mean,
no sense in letting all that Kaleigh training go to waste. You can
manage to finish the meal and do some plating, I hope? Especially
since we won’t need you in livery yourself.”