Marketplace

by Laura Antoniou

  As the week drew to a close, the anticipatory tension was maddening. They received no encouragement and no hints that any of them had been accepted for the longer stay. In fact, the inclination of the master and mistress of the house to take any of them to bed or demand some sort of sexual service weighed heavier and heavier on them, especially Sharon and Brian, who at last had something in common.

  “I just don’t get it,” Brian moaned one night. It was just before lights out, and he, Sharon, and Robert were all seated on their beds. There was one more day left in their evaluation period.

  Robert was more or less seated—he had gotten one hell of a strapping just moments before, for bursting into tears at what Chris had called “an insignificant level of chastisement.” Robert’s entire body, now covered in a light layer of new hair, itched and ached. He shifted from time to time, trying to find a spot that didn’t hurt.

  “I mean, Paul told him I was a great cocksucker,” Brian said, leaning back against the wall. “Told him I was a great man-lover. But the only time he ever even suggested that I show him was... that first day in his office!” He controlled what felt like a blush growing on his cheeks. Could that be the reason why he wasn’t allowed to show off how well he could suck? Because of what happened with Chris? No, it couldn’t be, he thought. No one else is getting sex. He wondered briefly if anyone else had been given the same test. “I mean, how the hell can they tell if we’re worth anything if they don’t have any... experience with us?”

  “My mistress almost never permitted me to... be that way with her,” Robert said.

  “Yeah, well my masters never got enough of me,” Sharon said spitefully. “I could have a dozen guys fighting over me on any Saturday night! I could make them insane, guys would get off just looking at me. I’d walk into this club on a busy night and instantly, all these guys would just run up and they’d wanna worship me. Understand? Like I was a slave and everything, but guys would line up to lick my boots and stuff. And the sex? I could tire any guy out. One night, my master brought two friends over and they all fucked me, you know? I told you all this, right? And girls too, every once in a while.” She sighed. “Not that Grendel would know. I mean, he only decided to look in on me today, and the only thing he wanted was for me to fucking recite this stuff I’m memorizing. Like memorizing things is high up there on the list of stuff masters want from their slaves, right?”

  “Way up there next to knowing how much fabric softener to use,” Brian added bitterly.

  “You two shouldn’t talk that way,” Robert said softly. “How do you know you won’t be sold to someone who just wants a pretty face to do the laundry? How do you know you won’t be sold to someone who just wants labor out of you? Once you’re a slave, you’re a slave! You have no choice in what you end up doing.”

  “Listen, sissy,” Sharon snapped, “I may have to listen to them when they lecture me, but I don’t have to hear it from you!”

  “Sorry.” Robert lowered his head and turned away from them.

  “You know, you could lighten up,” Brian said. “By tomorrow night, we could be out of here. Back to whatever you used to have to do to get through the night.” He made jerk off motions with his right hand. “But come on, prima donna. Didn’t any of them do anything to, you know, test you, or something? Even on the first day?”

  Sharon shook her head firmly. “Fucking nothing. Like I was some ugly old hag or something. I swear, Grendel has to be gay, and Alexandra... she’s just jealous.”

  “Whoa!” Brian chuckled. “You’d better hope this room isn’t bugged, Sharon baby, or you just got yourself a first class ticket home.”

  “I don’t care!” Sharon cried. But then her face screwed up and her eyes glistened with tightly restrained tears. “I want to be wanted! I want them to want to fuck the shit out of me! What the fuck is wrong with that? It’s not right that they’re not... not... interested!”

  “You’re just pissed because they’re probably the first people you couldn’t wrap around your little manicured fingers, darling. For your information, Grendel isn’t gay, and Alexandra is.” Brian announced this with all the confidence his voice could carry.

  “How do you know that?” Sharon and Robert echoed each other, Robert’s head coming off his arms.

  “Because Paul told me so. He said that Grendel had a woman slave a few years ago, and that Alexandra has girlfriends. Grendel is kinda bi, actually, because he and Paul used to go out to the gay sex clubs, but Paul thinks he’s mostly straight. And I don’t know where you get off on the jealousy thing, either, because Alexandra is one classy piece of work. You may be prettier in the mirror, but you’re all shine, no substance. Alexandra is...” He paused and considered. “Elegantly beautiful. And no fool. Definitely not the type to fall for a pretty face. So you struck out on two counts, babe.” He grinned.

  But he knew better. What Paul had really said was that he didn’t know what they were, only had the barest information about some of their preferences might be. But there was no chance that Sharon was going to bump into Paul and get that information out of him. And besides, if this was going to be their last night together, he might as well sink a few good lines into her for posterity’s sake. She fumed and tried to compose a retort, but Robert’s voice cut in.

  “Do you mean that they’re not, um, married?” Robert asked. “They seem to be a couple to me.”

  “They have different last names,” Brian pointed out. “And different bedrooms. On opposite sides of the house. Does that sound like married to you?”

  “What would you know about marriage, fairy?” Sharon sneered.

  “Enough to know what you’re up to, sweetie,” Brian answered smoothly. He turned a knowing smile toward her.

  Before she could retort, the door opened, and Chris came in with Claudia, who looked forlorn. She went over to her bed and sat gingerly on the edge.

  “Tomorrow is the last day of your examination period,” Chris began, glancing down at his ever-present clipboard. “Tomorrow evening, you will be informed as to your status. Those who will be leaving may choose to leave tomorrow night, or you may spend the night here in one of the standard guest rooms. If you are asked to leave, you must wait a year and a day before you can re-apply to this house, unless previous arrangements with the owners have been made.

  “Those of you who are permitted to stay will be given a contract delineating your wish to enter a strenuous training program here, lasting from four to six weeks. Signing the contract will make you an official part of the Marketplace, and the records of your examination period will be made available to the master database. The only way out from that point is your utter failure to make it through the training course.” He paused, took a long, lingering scan of the four of them and suddenly smiled. “Of course, if you are accepted, you will not do this house the disservice of failing the course.”

  Claudia shuddered.

  “I have always given prospective applicants to this house my opinion of their level of acceptability on the night before their final day of examination.”

  They tensed and looked up at him.

  “You have been the sorriest, most unsuitable applicants I have ever had the misfortune to supervise,” the majordomo declared. His light voice had hardened. “You have displayed every fault I could possibly imagine in an applicant with the exception of a venereal disease.”

  Robert buried his head in his arms.

  “From extreme narcissism to cultural illiteracy, from nearly pathological introversion to a stunning lack of basic motor skills, you have all managed to catalog a veritable banquet of unsuitability. I have to admit that in my years of service here, I have never seen such an array of incompetence.”

  Each word was like a hammer blow. Robert shook at the end of each sentence. Claudia bit her lip, all out of tears at last. Brian clenched his fists and cursed at himself, the sound and repetition drowning out the panic that was rising.

  Sharon just glared.

  But Chris s
eemed totally unaffected by their reactions. He tucked the clipboard under his arm and continued. “My opinion, of course, is meaningless. Grendel and Alexandra are the ones who will make the decisions regarding your futures.”

  He smiled again.

  “But keep in mind—if any of you do stay on, you will still be under my supervision. Sleep well.”

  They all looked at the door as it shut behind him, and then looked at each other.

  “Yeah, right,” Brian said, his voice slightly shaky.

  * * * *

  “What about training him as a butler or majordomo?” Grendel asked, tossing Robert’s file on the table. It was the third hour of their deliberations. “He’d look good in the uniform.”

  “Yes,” Alex admitted with a sigh. “But somehow, it doesn’t fit him. Not now, at least. If we’re going to make something worthwhile out of him it has to be light years away from his former role. We have to break him totally away from it, give him something new to focus on. And honestly, I hate to let the potential in that body go to waste. He’d be a beautiful showpiece.”

  “We’ve already got a showpiece,” Grendel noted.

  “You really want to keep her, huh?”

  “Do you really want to take that vacation this winter?”

  Alex nodded thoughtfully.

  “The potential profit on her is worth the other three combined!”

  “That’s if we can do something with her. Big if.”

  “Well, yes.” Grendel leaned back and thought for a moment. “She did manage to memorize those two pages in a little over a day. That does indicate some level of skill.”

  “When she’s properly motivated. But how do we make sure she won’t revert to her natural state as soon as she leaves our hands? Do we really want to have to handle a return procedure? Risk our reputation? For her? It’s not worth it.”

  They looked at each other, both frustrated. Together, they reached for the other files.

  “We can keep Claudia,” Grendel said hopefully.

  “I don’t know what for.” Alex sighed again. “She is almost as hopeless as Robert. That role is so much a part of her entire nature, she just can’t let it go, not even when her record of perfect obedience is at stake. And Chris tells me that she is next to useless in any practical skill.” She played with her pen, spinning it carefully through her fingers. Her sense of balance was perfect.

  Chris looked up when his name was mentioned. He was seated comfortably on the floor, his back resting against Alexandra’s chair. When he realized that Alexandra didn’t want him to elaborate, he checked his watch and went back to his patient waiting.

  “Maybe we can work with that,” Grendel said. “Elaborate on her chosen role in some way.“

  “What, make her a better French maid?” Alex shook her head. “Not something I want to spend my time doing. We can’t just keep any of these people unless we know what the hell to do with them. Claudia is an interesting challenge, I suppose, but I have no idea what to make of her. And let me tell you, speaking to Madeleine about this isn’t going to be easy. Maybe we should keep her on as a favor? After all, Madeleine is responsible for a lot of referrals. Do you want her? Maybe she needs a man, something different than what she’s used to.”

  Grendel looked down at the table for a moment, and ran a finger along his jawline, bending and stroking down his beard. “I guess I can do that, if I’m sending Brian back to Paul. But damn it, I hate to do this to Paul. He’s usually very good at spotting them. And then of course, we lose the favor he’d owe us if we make something out of the kid.” He thought about it for a moment and then met Alex’s eyes across the table. “Unless you want him, of course.”

  “I don’t think so. From what you’ve told me, there’s nothing exceptional there. Every move he makes is so calculating. It’s shallow. He knows the right sounds to make, but I don’t think he knows why he’s doing all these things, unless he thinks it’s the best way to get sex. Give him a few more years, maybe he’ll grow up and stop thinking the world revolves around him.”

  “Then I guess we know what to do,” Grendel said, closing the folders and piling them up. “Unless you have anything to add, boy?”

  Chris looked up again. “Keep Brian,” he said simply.

  “That’s it?” Alex asked, a little smile curling around her lips.

  Chris nodded.

  Grendel frowned for a moment and then relaxed it into a grin. “Did you like his cocksucking so much?” Chris grinned back but didn’t respond.

  Grendel sighed, and pulled the folders apart again. “OK, let’s reconsider. What about Robert, again? Do you think we can make a body builder out of him? There’s a run on bodybuilders these days.”

  Alex shrugged eloquently. “Or maybe we can just make up something as we go along.”

  * * * *

  The following afternoon, Chris made four phone calls. That evening, the applicants were gathered in the library after they ate.

  “Is there anyone who wants to voluntarily leave the program?” Alexandra asked. The four stood still. “Then we’ll cut through the dramatics right away. We’ve decided to keep you all.”

  Four bodies expelled breath at once. Claudia’s knees almost buckled. Robert’s did, and he went to his knees.

  “Oh, thank you ma’am, thank you!” he cried.

  “Robert, control yourself!” Grendel snapped. “Get up and get back in line.” The shamefaced man did so, but he couldn’t hide the incredible look of relief and gratitude on his face.

  “You may be congratulating yourselves now, but Grendel and I want you all to understand something. None of you were automatic selections. You are all in some way below our usual standards for applicants. In fact, that was a part of our decision to keep you all together. The amount of remedial training needed is extensive, but your deficiencies overlap. You will all benefit from each other’s training.”

  “Tomorrow starts a whole new way of life for you,” Grendel said. “Some of the rules you have managed to learn will change. But the basics remain the same. You will offer your absolute, trusting obedience, your most profound and genuine submission, and your greatest respect and gratitude for everything you are taught and everything you receive. Are you all absolutely sure you wish to stay?”

  The four nodded, and murmured “Yes, sir.”

  “Then receive your training collars.”

  Chris handed Alexandra and Grendel lengths of heavy silver chain. One at a time, the applicants stepped forward and bent at the waist. Four muted snaps locked them on. As they stepped back, their fingers went up to fondle the smooth links, and they looked at each other to see how they must look. Grendel nodded when Alexandra locked Robert into his collar, and he turned to her with a smile.

  “Now the fun begins.”

  Part Two: Chapter Seven

  Many aficionados of the scene imagine that being trained to be a slave is a journey through a magically erotic kingdom. They envision an endless stream of sensual stimulation ranging from the most common sexual encounters to prolonged sessions of agonizing torture.

  With all the participants suitably costumed, of course.

  It is disillusioning for these people to realize that masters and mistresses do not often feel constrained to conduct their affairs in gleaming black leather or latex, complete with jackboots or stiletto heels. Their faces fall in disappointment when they are made to understand that a slave’s life is mostly comprised of patience and study.

  Yes, study. If not before actual books, then following the example of greater, senior slaves. Or learning every nuance of their owner’s character, so that they can more completely and seamlessly offer themselves at the right time and in the right manner.

  A true slave, one who will be cherished and valued, will never allow their skills and talents to become stagnant. They will never be satisfied with their level of competence. And they will always be willing to follow their owner’s lead, quickly, respectfully, and to the best of their ability.
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br />   To be thrilled at the touch of leather, aroused by the sound of harsh words, or satisfied by the security of rigid bondage is the mark of a lover.

  To be thrilled at the opportunity to provide useful service, aroused by a pleased nod, and satisfied by the proverbial job well done, is the mark of a slave.

  It may sound severe. Almost anti-erotic. Until you see two people, owner and owned, existing in a complementary relationship where each suits the other like balances on a delicate scale. Until you feel the energy of their rapport, you cannot understand how they fulfill each other, take and give in ways no negotiation could possibly express.

  Then, you will understand that singular intimacy which drives such people on their search for perfection. It is beyond orgasm. Beyond love. It can almost be called rapture.

  To achieve that level may require many years of training. But in the end, there is nothing which compares to it. At our house, we know this, and we construct our training with that exact goal in mind. We demand that applicants leave behind their foolish dreams and expectations, and we strip away any falseness that may linger. Those who survive and go on must be implanted with the urge to go further. Our name and reputation depends on it.

  But it’s so hard to get good material these days.

  Chapter Eight

  When the four slaves tumbled out of bed and into the hall for the first morning of their formal training period, Ms. Rachel was standing next to Chris as she had the first morning they arrived. New bundles were neatly folded in a large basket at her feet.

  “Since this marks the start of a more personalized training period, you have been issued some new items,” Chris said, pointing down. “If you have questions about how to use anything, ask me immediately. Assume that anything you’ve been given is meant to be used every time you bathe. Robert first.” As Chris pointed, they gathered their new supplies, and walked quietly but quickly down to the shower room.