The Slave (45 page)

She was used to being somewhat clothed, and
the air conditioning in the room was chilly, so she did help
herself to one of the elegant white robes that were hanging up.
Then, she walked out to look for Chris. He wasn’t there.

How odd.

But there was a newspaper on the coffee
table, and the breakfast menu was propped up on top of it, so she
took the hint, and enjoyed the pleasure of being served for a
change.

Chris didn’t return until slightly after one
o’clock. He walked in, startling Robin, who was engrossed in the
crossword puzzle. She stood at once.

“
You have an important decision to
make,” he said in his customary no preamble method. “Do you want to
be removed from the house, or serve out the rest of your
contract?”

Robin gasped. “I have a choice?”

“
Jeff has... confessed.” Chris looked
positively pleased with himself, and Robin couldn’t help but grin.
“Your owners have naturally withdrawn their desire to have you
shunned. But neither are they interested in dealing with a bitter
slave. Therefore, they have offered me the chance to redeem you
now, freeing you from the contract as though it had been completed.
Their report of you will show great satisfaction with your work and
your progress, and will not hurt any potential sale.”

While he spoke, Robin wondered
at the sudden change in her life’s circumstances. Jeff confessed!
But somehow, it had taken all night to get to that point; how was
it done?
I
wish I’d been there
, she thought
. I would have loved to see him break
down.

“
Or, if you wish, you may return to
service, today, and nothing more will be said about the matter,”
Chris finished.

“
Nothing more,” Robin
echoed.

“
You cannot be expecting an apology,”
Chris said. He walked into the room and sat down on the couch,
indicating that she sit down as well. “I told you that justice is
not something to expect here.”

“
Or fairness,” Robin added. “But what
about courtesy?”

“
It is a courtesy that they would
consider allowing you the choice of leaving or returning.” He
leaned back and flexed his right hand thoughtfully. “If getting an
apology from your master is so important to you, perhaps you could
do with some time off to reconsider your commitment.”

Robin stared at him in silence for a
moment.

“
I’m so sorry about the cruel things I
said to you,” Maria had written.

“
It was all my fault, I should have
never done that to you!” Troy had pleaded.

Owners may do as they like to you, and need
not seek your consent, approval, pleasure, or even your reaction.
And they will not owe you explanations or words of encouragement or
comfort or praise. You will just be a person who belongs to them,
and nothing more, Chris taught.

And she had been so turned on. She had been
so thrilled by the possibilities, the potential.

I was so
ignorant
,
she marveled.

She lowered her head and then took a deep
breath. Then, lifting her chin, she said, “Please allow me to
finish out my contract, sir.”

“
Because?”

“
Because it’s the honorable thing to
do.”

Chris Parker smiled. “Good girl! Now take
that robe off before I take my belt to you; I don’t recall
mentioning that you could wear it. We’ll have lunch before I return
you, and you can catch me up on your education and
experiences.”

“
Yes, sir,” Robin said instantly,
shedding the robe. “And I’m so sorry, sir, that you had to come all
the way out here.”

“
That’s part of my job, missy. You may
have twenty owners, but I’m your trainer. And always remember, if
there’s ever a reason why I can’t take care of your interests, you
can be damn sure that I’ll leave you in good hands.” He patted his
leg and gestured, and she got back into her old position at his
feet.

“
So tell me what it’s like in
California. How the hell do you know when the seasons
change?”

I love you
, Robin thought, pressing her
cheek to his leg. She thought about asking him about that “leave
you in other hands” bit, but a sudden wave of something new swept
through her.
If he wanted to tell me more, he would―and I’m comfortable
knowing that he’ll take care of things.
She smiled, and then remembered that
he’d asked a question. “I haven’t quite figured that out,” she said
out loud. “I think it has something to do with the arrival of the
Neiman Marcus catalog.”

She felt the itching and minor aching of her
wounds begin to trickle down to a manageable level. By the time
Chris drove her back up into the hills, she felt sure she was doing
the right thing.

Steve, the new houseboy, was nothing like
Jeff. For one, he was big; broader across the chest than Carl, and
just as tall, with legs that looked like they were carved from oak
and arms that bulged to obscene proportions when he exerted his
strength. Also, where Jeff was weasely, wiry, supple, narrow and
sexy in a streetwise kind of way, Steve was the true definition of
hunk. He was a walking mass of muscles.

“
Steve Reeves is who he’s like,” Raul
had joked to Robin and Carl before the new addition arrived.
“Master Eric has always wanted a body builder.”

Robin remembered Ken’s descriptions of men
that her brother liked to abuse. “But if he’s so buff, why is he
suited for that kind of scut work? I thought that muscle types cost
a lot, and were mostly show pieces.” She grinned at her own lapse.
Had she actually used “buff” as a descriptive word?

“
Yes, if that’s what they’re sold for.
But this one has a nice history of looking for places as master’s
dog. He’ll be just fine in our boy position.”

And he was. He arrived with a look of wonder
on his comically innocent face and his own set of free weights. And
within two days, everyone had used him at least once or twice and
agreed that he was going to be an asset. They nicknamed him
“Muscledog” because he loved to play puppy roles. And to their
amusement and satisfaction, it also appeared that he had a passion
for men’s feet. Eric was extraordinarily pleased with himself.

One night, Robin sat inside the house
helping Carl do some paperwork sorting for archive files. Out on
the patio, the masters were playing some kind of fetching game with
their Muscledog, involving sticks and condoms and God knows what
else. Raul was busy in the kitchen, preparing a menu for an
upcoming dinner party.

Carl leaned over and said softly, “You’ve
got a great trainer.”

“
I know.” Robin picked up a new pile
of folders and began to pull out the necessary papers.
“So?”

“
So, I thought you’d like to know what
happened. Back then.”

Robin grinned. “Hell, yes, and why did it
take so long?”

“
I wanted to make sure it was OK with
Raul before I told you.”

Well, that made sense. “OK, I’m listening.”
After failing to find Parker in one call, Eric had ordered the boys
to put Robin in the shed, and they had done so. By the time Carl
got back, Eric was dialing the phone himself and tracking the man
down. He didn‘t connect until later that night.

“
And did you know where Parker
was?”

“
No, he didn’t tell me anything about
it.”

“
With Anderson. Trainer Anderson.
Probably getting some tips or something, or maybe at some kind of
trainers’ meeting.” Carl shook his head, smiling. “Imagine being
with the Trainer of Trainers and being tracked down by an owner who
has a complaint about one of your trainees. It must have been like
shit hitting the fan.”

“
Oh!” Robin dropped the papers in
horror. “He didn’t even say a word!”

“
Well, I didn’t hear all of their
conversation. But the next day, he’s here. He didn’t say much, got
the story from Jimmy, and took you out.”

“
He didn’t even talk to
Eric?”

“
Hon, he barely said three words to
anyone. No one heard anything until the following day, when Parker
came back, alone. He walked into the house as casually as any
friend or guest and told Raul to make him some strong coffee. And
then, when the two masters came to talk with him, they went into
the library for privacy.

“
When Parker came out, he called Jeff
to his side and told him to get his sorry ass upstairs.”

“
Just like that?”

“
The bosses didn’t even come out of
the room!” Carl looked around and grinned and lowered his voice.
“They came out after Parker went to the kitchen, had Raul put some
coffee in a carafe, and took that and a cup upstairs.”

“
What room?”

“
The same one that Eve and Tom stayed
in, naturally.”

“
And then what?”

Well, then it got hard to piece together.
Carl found several excuses to pass by that room, and on two
occasions heard sounds that could be interpreted as hitting or
slapping noises. But mostly, it was quiet. Before dinner time,
Jimmy went upstairs, too. He was soon followed by Eric. Dinner was
postponed for two hours. Then, Eric came out of the room, calm as
you please, and told Raul to get the table ready and set a place
for Mr. Parker. Mr. Parker came downstairs with a Band-Aid over one
of his knuckles and was a courteous and gracious guest,
complimenting the meal and the wine selection.

“
Fuck the wine, tell me what
happened!”

“
Temper, temper.”

After dinner, the three men went back
upstairs. When they came down again, it was past midnight. Eric had
gone to the phone himself and placed a call to Mr. Lu, who was
Jeff’s previous owner, and the man who trained him. And
Jimmy―dragging a Jeff who looked like he had had the shit beaten
out of him―went out to the tool shed for some more stakes. He’d
gone to the same place where Robin had suffered her
punishment.

“
They did the same thing to him?”
Robin asked, her eyes wide.

“
Well, not exactly. He was already kind of
knocked around. But the worst part came later.”

Mr. Lu decided that it was not worth
redeeming his former slave. And as Jeff had no other trainer to act
as his advocate or take him back for further training, it was
decided to just cast him out. Jimmy and Eric co-signed a formal
letter saying that he was proven a thief, a liar, and a betrayer,
and faxed it to the regional offices of the Marketplace. By
morning, it would be going out to every training house, every
auction business, every private trainer, agent, spotter, seller,
and owner.

Jeff was the one who was finished now. The
next morning, he had begged and pleaded for another chance, offered
unlimited clauses in any contract, offered to give himself to any
other owner or trainer without promise of future fee. When that
didn’t work, he tried threats, the usual blustering about exposure,
calling the police, calling newspapers or TV muckrakers.

But the bosses tossed him out on his ear,
wearing biker shorts, sandals, and a T-shirt. He had one thousand
dollars of pity money in his pocket and a good hike to the nearest
bus station.

“
That’s terrible,” Robin mused. The
image was frightening. “That could have been me!”

“
No, because you’ve got a real trainer
behind you. Little Jeff was fucked from the beginning. He just
jumped into the Marketplace blindly, with no real experience except
for one lover and no real love for the work, just a fetish. Turns
out he had no training, just a relationship with a Marketplace
owner who never put him through what you, me, or Raul got. His
contract sucked―not even a guarantee of transportation and
temporary housing if the owners sent him away. There’s a lesson in
this.”

“
But how is anyone supposed to learn it?”
Robin asked. “I could have been taken in the same way. Ken could
have sold me directly if she wanted to, said that I was her
slave.”

“
But the key is that she didn’t.” Carl
looked over toward Raul, in the kitchen, studiously not listening
to them. “You got real lucky, babe. And things worked out fine.
Right?” Robin nodded, thanked him for the story, and went back to
work. She didn’t tell him that things weren’t exactly
fine.

Of course it was easy sitting across from
Chris and talking about honor. She knew that it would get a
favorable response from him, and that it was the “right”
answer.

But in real life, it was so hard to leave
the comfort of his rented car and walk back to the house.
Resentment threatened to rise with every step, and it took all of
her emotional strength to hold it down.

As Chris had said, there were no apologies,
real or hidden. She just returned to her office, stripped out of
the clothing that Chris had brought her and dressed in shorts and a
tank top and went back to work. The only change was that she didn’t
run with Raul for another two weeks. But when the cuts on her feet
closed and healed and she could stretch out without feeling the
tearing of scabs, she began to join him and life went on.

Except that Eric sort of stopped making use
of her. Oh, on nights when he and Jimmy put on one of their
production number orgies, she was always included somewhere, but he
never called upon her for his own use or to perform with one of the
other slaves for his titillation.