Marketplace

by Laura Antoniou

  He finished with a slightly halting final line, afraid to add any flourishes. He looked at Alexandra for a moment, and then cast his eyes down quickly.

  “You need some dramatic coaching, but that was very good for a first time effort, Robert,” she said as she rose. “Follow me.” She turned to leave after giving Grendel a covert wink, and walked toward the door. Robert looked up after her, gazed around in one moment of insecurity, and then dashed past his fellow slaves to catch up.

  “All right, get up, strip down, and put these chairs back,” Chris barked at the three. “You’ve served your purpose, let’s get back into proper roles here!”

  Grendel got up and patted Chris lightly on one shoulder. “Carry on,” he said lightly.

  “Would you like any of the others sent to you tonight, Sir?”

  The tall man looked over at the three, still divesting themselves of the bits of old Halloween costumes that Chris had dug out of storage. “No,” he said, driving a spike of shame through each of them. “I don’t think so.”

  * * * *

  “You did very well,” Alexandra said as she led Robert away from the dining room. “I’m pleased.”

  “Oh, th—” Robert stopped himself and coughed. Out of habit, his voice had been an octave higher. “I mean, thank you, ma’am.”

  “I also like the fact that you’re giving more thought to how you sound and act. So I’m going to reward you.” Alex led him past the staircase, and he looked back at it in confusion. They were headed toward her ‘studio,’ one of the rooms the slaves had been forbidden to enter. His heart began to pound.

  “Oh. Oh my,” he murmured.

  “Don’t ruin things, Robert.” Alex stopped at the door and looked back at him. “My rules for your new behavior don’t end at this doorway.”

  “No, ma’am!”

  “Then let’s get on with it.” She pushed the door open and flicked a light switch. And Robert, whose sole experience with the term “dungeon” meant cheap, heavy black leather with silver studs adorning heavy pseudo-medieval furniture all lit by black lights and candles, blinked in amazement and wonder at what he could see from the doorway.

  Just as Alex’s taste in bedrooms was light, airy and elegant, so was her flavor of playroom. Although the lighting was not bright enough to read fine print by, the L-shaped room was washed in muted colored lights which illuminated her decor rather than cast it in shadows. The furnishings were varied and well spaced out, including a large square frame that looked like it was made of a well varnished and polished mahogany, fitted with rigging gear of a contrasting metallic hue, and several well-padded pieces of equipment that looked intriguingly designed to be delightfully adjustable and support a human body in a number of positions. Everything seemed to be custom made to Alex’s tastes, including plenty of soft fabrics and a scattered array of thick rugs and large pillows that could serve as platforms or bolsters for all sorts of activities, or provide a comfortable seating area for voyeurs.

  “It—it’s wonderful, ma’am,” Robert gasped, stepping into the room to follow her. His bare feet sank into the carpeting.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “That’s why you’re generally not allowed here.” Without any further explanation, she walked around the perimeter of the room, considering her options. Robert felt that he was to stop following her and stood by the door. When she gestured, he closed it behind him.

  “Go into the other part of the studio,” Alex said finally. “Bring me back two things you’d like me to use on you.” She pointed and he ran.

  The other side of the room, out of direct sight of the door, held her collection of toys. Robert gasped again, struck with absolute amazement at the wonder that was arrayed before him. Neatly put away in glossy cubicles or hanging from brass-colored racks, were cuffs in heavy canvas and soft leather, bondage arrays designed for women and men and for either gender, blindfolds with fat layers of sheepskin or soft linings of silk, a whole row of paddles, straps and canes, a line of whips ranging from the smallest, most viciously cutting, knotted and twisted rubber to huge, luxuriously thick, electric blue deerskin, as soft as velvet. Coils of rope lay in nautical precision on one shelf next to a rack of metal devices that would make the most dedicated torturer cry with envy. Cock rings, with snaps, studs, or little tormenting teeth on the inside, long, narrow silver clamps attached by chains, assorted cock-and-ball harnesses, labia stretchers, tit clamps, a small chest full of plain wooden clothespins, dispensers, jars and tubes of lotions, creams, and lubes, and a very eclectic assortment of dildos, butt-plugs, cock-shaped vibrators, and other objects for delving into one orifice or another. There were also harnesses to keep such devices in, or to harness one to a woman’s loins.

  Robert felt a wave of dizziness pass through him. He had never seen such an assortment of SM gear before, not ever. Not even at the shops he went to when he bought tribute for Mistress. Sure, they had a lot of inventory, but it was never so varied, never so colorful, so inviting, and so, so sexy! And the way everything was stored or displayed was so friendly! He wanted to touch the tresses of the whips and feel their weight upon his hands. He wanted to open the clamps and see how they worked, and play with the pile of soft things, the fur and the feathers, and he wanted to smell the rich leather on the straps that looked so soft and well worn! Robert trembled. It was intoxicating. It was bewildering.

  And Alexandra was waiting! Quickly, he shifted his gaze back and forth, chewing on his lower lip. What did she say? Two things? Was a pair of cuffs one thing or two? He reached out for something soft and furry looking and then jerked his hand back as if it were burned. What kind of things? Surely not these sensuous-looking lover-toys?

  He stuck his hand out and encountered a thick paddle, and took it, and then looked over at the whips. His trained instinct told him to get one that was knotted and rough looking, but the colors confused him and were far too compelling. He choose a red one, with a thick bundle of heavy tresses, and scurried back into the other side of the studio. Trying not to rise up on his toes when he walked, he padded over to Alexandra, who was sitting patiently on top of a spanking bench and knelt in front of her. It was a move suggested in one of the behavior manuals, and he copied it exactly, holding the whip and paddle above him as he lowered his head.

  Alex took the paddle first and turned it over in her hands. It had two different textures on it, a gleaming rubber side and a softer leather covered side. Then she took the whip, and ran her fingers through the soft tresses.

  “You have good taste,” she said, stroking the whip. “This is one of my favorites. We’ll save it for last. Right now, I want you bent over this bench.” She hopped down and patted it.

  When Robert positioned himself, he realized that the curved cushioning of the top of the bench provided a very secure place to rest his body. He closed his eyes and sighed. After so many days of standing while braced against tables and doors, or crouching on all fours, or being bent over fences, rails, and the side of a car, the sensation of being on a piece of equipment actually designed for this purpose was absolutely decadent.

  Alex used the leather side of the paddle, and started lightly on Robert’s mostly unbruised ass. He tensed and relaxed under her as she smacked him, using mostly the same pattern she had used so successfully on Claudia. But when he started to squirm, she stopped, allowed him to rest, and then started up again, each time picking up force and tempo. Soon, he started to whimper.

  “Don’t you like this?” she asked, pausing.

  “Oh! Yes, ma’am!”

  “Then why do you sound like I’m hurting you?”

  Robert’s eyes snapped open. What an odd question! He tried to gather his thoughts and failed, and tried again. Alexandra stopped beating him, which made it easier to think.

  “D-don’t you want me to react this way, ma’am?” he finally asked.

  “Not particularly,” Alex replied. “This is supposed to be a reward. Perhaps instead of sounding like you’re enduring this for me, you shoul
d try to offer me some forms of gratitude.”

  “Ma’am?” Robert’s voice did scale up a bit, and he coughed before he could continue. “How shall I thank you, ma’am?”

  “By saying so!” Alex drew her arm back and delivered one sharp smack under his ass cheeks, driving him upwards an inch or two, and he yelped.

  “Oh! Ah! Thank you, ma’am!” he cried out, as she began to paddle him with vigor. “Yes! Thank you!”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Alex said with satisfaction. She covered his ass with a band of solid pink, concentrating on the curves below the middle of his ass, and bringing her strokes in underhand to provide that “lift” as they hit. In no time at all, Robert had fallen into a litany of gratitude, and was putting his ass out for more.

  “Good boy,” Alex declared, putting the paddle down. She ran her fingers over the spanked area with satisfaction, making Robert hiss with intense pleasure. “Are you ready for the whip?”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  He took his lashes kneeling on a low platform, so that his back was at exactly the level Alex needed. She positioned him with his fingers laced behind his neck, and started his beating with dozens of light blows delivered slowly so that the soft tresses could drape over his back and caress his muscles, trailing down to his waist. He shivered in appreciation, and after one or two false starts, began to thank her again.

  “You’re so kind to me,” he moaned, arching his shoulders out to meet the whip. “Thank you, thank you, ma’am!”

  Alex smiled to herself and began giving the heavy whip a bit more speed on each round of blows. The ends of the tresses landed with precision on his shoulders and on the big muscles of his back. They began to make noise, a nice, muted thump, and as she moved to allow more or less of the whip to hit him, they sounded louder and louder.

  Across his shoulders, down each side of his back, it was a leather rain that fell with a steady, heartbeat rhythm that Robert matched with moans of pleasure. His fat cock, already tumescent from the paddling, rose stiffly between his legs and he trembled with near ecstasy. When Alexandra moved around to face him and used the whip on his chest, he closed his eyes, but his lips parted in a series of inarticulate cries, mixed in with sincere, simple thanks.

  Alex stopped when his chest was about the same color as his ass, and she looked critically at him. The body is very nice, she mused, just the way it is. I’m not going to bulk him up, there are plenty of body-builders out there. And he can take a nice thumping indeed, when he realizes that he’s supposed to react naturally. We know he can over-react, but it’s good to note that he can be sensual too. Will he ever be able to take it stoically?

  Never mind, now’s not the time to test it. Reward desired behavior sparingly but with encouragement, that was the pattern. She dropped the whip down in front of him and he opened his eyes with a start.

  “Put the toys away and bring me a leather cock ring that will fit you,” Alex told him. When he did, his hand shaking as he presented the ring to her, she approved of it and told him to put it on. When he finished wrapping it around the base of his balls, he fastened it tight enough to make his cock seem even heavier and thicker, and adjusted the snaps so that they were out of sight.

  Oh yeah, Alex thought, admiring the package. We are including one photo of that in his folder. She touched it, stroking the side of his cock, and he trembled. “This looks very nice,” she mused. “Have you been behaving? Have you come at all since you’ve been here?”

  “No, ma’am,” he choked out.

  “Would you like to?”

  “Ah! Oh, N—I mean... if it would please you, ma’am!”

  Alexandra cupped the shaft, holding it from the bottom as if she were weighing it. “It might,” she said. “I definitely have plans for it. But perhaps you’ve had enough stress for one evening.”

  She let it drop, and Robert fought the urge to draw his knees together and squirm until the burning need went away. But he maintained his posture in front of her, and watched her movements for clues about what he should do next.

  “Would you like to sleep at the foot of my bed tonight?” She asked suddenly.

  “Oh, yes, please ma’am!” His voice broke, and he blushed, and tried to control himself. “It—it would be an honor!”

  “Yes, it would,” she admitted. But the look in her eyes had suddenly lost its approval. “But it’s an honor we’ll have to save for the next time I feel like rewarding you. Watch your voice, Robert, it’s your greatest fault. You may return to your studies or go to bed, I’ll see you in two days. Keep the ring on until you go to bed and put it back after you shower in the morning.”

  She called to him as he walked quietly toward the door. “Oh, Robert? I suggest... not command, but suggest... that you strongly consider taking advantage of what Sharon offers you every day.”

  He choked, and then said, “Yes, ma’am,” and got out of the room with a spinning head and a throbbing hard-on.

  * * * *

  Chris reviewed Claudia’s first day on the job and ran his finger down a checklist. At least half the items he had listed did not have checks next to them. Claudia and Brian, both comfortably naked again, were kneeling by his desk. They had never been in Chris’s office before, and they struggled not to twist and turn their heads to look around and get a better feel for the somber majordomo. What they did know was that he had a computer and a some framed documents and photographs, and piles of papers and files, arrayed in neat precision. Unlike the offices/studies of the owners, his workspace did have items of fetish interest. Hanging from an antique coat rack was a heavy motorcycle-style jacket, its epaulets hung with silver rings and strands of chain, for example. Brian’s eyes widened as he snuck peeks at it. It would have fit in at any leather bar on any given Saturday night, and he just could not imagine Chris wearing it.

  What caught Claudia’s eyes was an umbrella stand in which nothing was held that could have kept rain off. But there were several glossy canes protruding from the top, one with a curved crook, the others with banded or woven handles. After feeling the weight and pain of his ever-present strap, she was astonished to see such civilized pieces of paraphernalia in his private space. The canes shared their container with an assortment of riding crops, a thin rod that would have been painfully familiar to Sharon and Brian, and two or three long dressage-style whips.

  And even from across the room, they could see that several books on a tall set of shelves had very familiar spines. Chris, it seemed, had a collection of the very books that they had searched the library for so many times. Between the two of them, they spotted several classic SM novels and two notorious trilogies.

  “This is distressing,” Chris commented, pushing the list away. “You’ve both had plenty of time to learn what has to be done in this house on a daily basis. Claudia, you in particular have been given no regular assignments outside the house, and Rachel had taken you under strict supervision all this week.”

  “I’m sorry, Chris,” she said softly. “I know it’s my fault, I promise to do better tomorrow!”

  “So you say. However, it’s clear that many of these things should have been done by Brian, as directed by you. Are you having trouble managing him? Has he been unavailable, or slow?”

  Claudia shot a glance at Brian, who felt a trickle of nervousness grow up his spine. Had he been avoiding her today? Yes, he had, after she stared at him helplessly for the third time or so. He had just taken more time to do some simple things, assuming that when she was ready to let him know what had to be done, she’d find him. He prayed that she wouldn’t betray him. I swear, he tried to communicate with his eyes, I swear it’ll be different tomorrow! Don’t mess me up, girl!

  “Uh, it’s all my fault, Chris,” Claudia stammered out. “Please don’t blame Brian.”

  Chris nodded and turned his attention to the relieved slave. “Do you agree with that assessment, Brian? That you did well, and this report reflects badly on Claudia?”

  “Um.”
Brian cleared his throat. He hadn’t expected that he would be placed in this position! He glanced back at Claudia, who suddenly looked about as panicked as he felt, and then he looked back at Chris. “I... I did my best, sir, I mean, Chris... but maybe I can share part of the blame, it was only our first day—”

  “You still talk too much,” Chris said, cutting him off. “And you still think you can lie to us and your lies aren’t as transparent as plastic wrap.” He didn’t sound angry, but he was more than annoyed. “Claudia didn’t get many of these things done because she wasn’t willing to stay on you as you did them, and neither was she willing to go looking for you while you dawdled and wasted your time. That much is her fault, and we’ll be working on it. The rest is yours, however, and seeing as you didn’t have the honesty or the courage to own up to them, I have no alternative but to punish you severely.”

  Brian dropped his head and his entire body tingled with dread.

  “For the next three days, unless your work or safety requires that you stand, I want you to fulfill the posture and speech requirements of a pet, Brian. Do you remember reading about them?”

  Brian nodded, and his guts twisted inside him. Pets, he remembered, don’t use furniture. They crawl, all the time. They carry things in their mouths, but gently, so as not to leave tooth marks. And they do not talk, but whine, whimper, mew, bark, or whatever is appropriate for the kind of pet they were.

  “Perhaps in that time, you’ll learn that when humans are slaves, they retain some of their humanity. That part should include honesty and integrity. And while you snuffle and whine your way around the house, maybe you’ll remember that your answers to questions should be brief, to the point, and simply phrased, without dissembling or hedging or flattery. You may find it slightly more difficult to lie without being able to talk, I think.”

  Claudia looked at Chris in horror. She couldn’t imagine a worse sentence for the talkative, teasing Brian.