FIC Hilary I
Jan. 1st, 2009 02:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jessara40k_ljOriginally I posted this over at orig_slavefic but for anyone who doesn't follow that I'm reposting it in larger chunks. And I'm open for suggestions on a better title.
Hilary knelt, back perfectly straight, arms folded behind it so that he gripped each elbow in the opposite hand, and watched the door his master would be coming through. He wondered what the man would be like, and if he’d please him - he’d been scared that the reason he hadn’t been collected on his sixteenth birthday the way the other slaves that had an owner waiting for them had been was that his owner had decided he didn’t want him. And if he was no longer wanted then no doubt The Facility would send his file out to create interest in him for auction the way they did with the slaves they’d bought on speculation. But his trainer had reassured him and explained that his collection date had been specified along with his training when he’d been delivered to them ten, nearly eleven, years ago.
Now he just hoped that his master wasn’t expecting him to have a gladiator’s muscles simply because he was still a whole man, the only pleasure slave who was full male among the girls and castratos he’d trained with. He’d worked at it, he was probably in the best shape of all of them, as well as possibly the best educated in some ways, but he’d never put on that much in the way of muscle despite the hours lifting weights, or on the treadmill or other exercise machines.
The handle was turning on the door. He moved, bowing forward until his forehead rested on the floor, hands to either side of his head for balance.
He could hear two people walking into the room, and one of them sounded like his tutor, Mr Warrington, that limp was pretty distinctive. The other one, most likely his true master, was clearly walking only lightly, and came to a halt near him.
“Up. And I don’t want you to greet me like that ever again.” A young voice, but supremely confident, and Hilary obeyed, returning to his previous position without even risking a quick glance towards his new master to see what he looked like.
“Yes master.” He kept his voice quiet and unobtrusive from habit, even if he couldn’t make it vaguely musical the way some of the others could.
“I wasn’t clear enough, was I?” There was laughter in his master’s voice, not anger, and even if he had been angry it sounded as if he was blaming himself for Hilary’s failure. That wasn’t likely to happen often, but at least he wasn’t going to be punished already.
“No sir, not for a slave you’ve only just met. You can’t expect him to start reading your mind for at least a year.” Hilary felt himself stiffening at that - he knew that Mr Warrington was joking, but would his new master?
“Unless someone’s been doing some highly unorthodox modifications he won’t be reading my mind at all.” Humour, and a hint of light reproof there. “But I know what you mean, he should get used to my expectations the longer he stays with me. I meant for you to stand up, and you can look at me. There’s no point in telling you to relax just yet is there?”
“Ah...no master.” Hilary obediently stood, doing his best to look relaxed, even if he didn’t feel it, clasping his hands behind his back and looking at the two men. His new master looked to be in his early twenties; golden was the word that came to mind. His hair was a dark gold blonde and his eyes were a light, almost golden, brown, and his skin had a golden tint to it as well. He wasn’t handsome, but he was striking, there was a presence about him - and it was charisma, not just the fact that he was taller than Hilary.
“Right, first rule. You’re allowed to speak, unless I specifically tell you not to, and you can call me Armand in private and in social settings. Sir, or Mr Terenev in business or other more formal circumstances. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir, it’s clear. Armand in private or in social settings, and sir or Mr Terenev in business or more formal circumstances.” Should he take the risk of expanding a bit? Yes, he was only requesting further clarification, and his master had already admitted to being insufficiently clear once. “To be defined by you beforehand?” That won a burst of laughter from Master Armand, but there didn’t seem to be any cruelty in it.
“Yes, I’ll give you instruction before we go anywhere if it differs from the defaults we’ll build up. Now, what’s your name?”
“Hilary, sir.” He didn’t let his surprise that Master Armand didn’t already know his name show; there could easily be a reason he didn’t know for that, and it would be insulting and arrogant if he implied that Master Armand should know his name.
“Hilary...I see. That’s...” A girl’s name? He knew that, and he just hoped Master Armand wouldn’t feel the need to change his name again. “a rather old-fashioned name. I can’t imagine it being given to a purpose-bred unless he was meant as a pleasure slave from that start?”
“No sir, I don’t know what I was intended for, but I was five when I was renamed to Hilary and brought here.” Mr Warrington had a faintly scandalised look on his face to hear that, but his master had said he could speak unless told otherwise, and he looked to approve.
“I see. Do you have your things packed?”
“Yes sir.” Hilary turned slightly, pointing to the pack he’d put in the corner of the room. “I was told to pack everything yesterday since you would be collecting me today.”
“You’ve said whatever goodbyes you wanted to say then?” Hilary had the oddest feeling as he turned back to his master that if he said ‘no’ he’d be allowed to go and speak to the few friends he still had now, and that his master would wait for him.
“Yes Mr Terenev, I have.” Most of his friends had been older than he was, and they’d made sure to say goodbye the day before they left, if they’d been given any warning, so he certainly hadn’t been about to waste the warning he’d been given. Most of them had offered their best wishes, and meant it, but Paul hadn’t managed to hide his jealousy, and Hilary couldn’t help wondering what would happen to him if The Facility couldn’t sell him because he’d lost his beauty when he went through puberty.
“Good. Pick up your pack and come with me then.”
“Yes sir.” A look of irritation flickered over Master Armand’s face, and Hilary realised he’d have preferred silent obedience this time, something to remember for the future. He tried to follow the prescribed three steps behind his master, and one to the right, but Master Armand paused, and reached back to pull Hilary level with him.
“When I tell you to come with me that means I want you beside me, or at most half a step back. If I ever want you to trail behind me like that I’ll tell you to follow me.”
“I appreciate the precision...Armand.” Hilary wasn’t entirely sure it was appropriate for him to use the name now, but Mr Warrington hadn’t followed them into the corridor, and Master Armand gave a pleased smile.
“You’re welcome. And I’m glad you can use my name. Since I haven’t given you any guidance yet it’s good to know that you can use your judgement.”
“Thank you.” He was familiar with the rather institutional corridors they were following, but then Armand turned off into an area that was forbidden to the slaves here, and Hilary blinked in surprise at the dark wooden panelling on the walls and rich red carpet under their feet.
“I was surprised at how bare the area where I came to collect you was. Did you live somewhere that sterile, Hilary?”
“No, but it wasn’t like this.”
“Hmm.” Master Armand didn’t seem to have anything else to say, and he guided Hilary out to a small car - nothing at all like he’d expected his owner to drive, it only had two doors, and his master opened the passenger door for him in an almost shocking display of chivalry.
“Just put your pack on the back seat, or between your feet if you think that will be comfortable.”
“I think I can manage with it between my feet.” And he wasn’t quite sure how he could put it on the back seat anyway. The footwell was crowded, but not particularly uncomfortable, and Master Armand pulled out into the road with an easy confidence, but Hilary stayed silent rather than risk distracting him.
~~~0~~~
“Do you want me to hold it for you sir?”
“Please.” Armand smiled at the valet as he handed the keys over and checked the time before expanding. “If I don’t call down for it within an hour you can assume I won’t need it today.”
“Thank you sir.” The valet drove the car away to park as Hilary came up beside him.
“I usually take the stairs, but this time we’ll use the lift, since my apartment’s on the fifth floor.” The lift was a bit nearer to the entrance to the basement car park than the stairs were anyway - even if Armand didn’t really approve of that he understood the reasons behind it.
“I can take the stairs if you’d rather.” There was a slightly offended look on Hilary’s face, and he was glad to see that the Heterae Facility hadn’t trained him to hide his emotions the way Jean’s Gwen did.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re fit enough for that, but your pack looks a bit awkward to carry. I can show you the stairs later on today.”
“Ah...thank you for being so considerate Armand.” Hilary looked almost embarrassed now, and he’d lowered his eyes submissively as he spoke, but the lift arrived before he could do anything about that.
“Hilary, look at me.” The boy immediately tensed even as he obeyed, and Armand mentally cursed his own lack of subtlety. “I don’t have time for as much of an exercise routine as you do, so I only use the lift if I’ve got something heavy or awkward to carry, if I’m running late, or if I’m drunk. But I’ll show you the exercise facilities today and give you a limited keycard so you can use them while I’m at work. Can you swim by the way?”
“Yes Armand.” Hilary offered him a shaky smile. “For the girls with bigger breasts swimming is the best type of exercise, so The Facility had a swimming pool and most of us are taught to swim.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Even if it was something he’d never thought about before. Not that it mattered, and they’d reached their floor anyway. “This way.” He checked to make sure Hilary hadn’t decided to trail behind him again, but the boy seemed to realise what he wanted without further explanation.
He’d pulled his keycard out as they walked, and he swiped to open the door, holding it so that Hilary could get past, into the entry hall, before joining him.
“There’s only one bedroom, and the decor’s a bit bland, but when we move into a bigger apartment in a month I’ll let you deal with the decorating.” He took hold of Hilary’s elbow as he spoke, leading him through to the bedroom, pointing out the doors to the kitchen/dining room and the bathroom as they passed.
“You’ll expect me to decorate your new apartment?” Hilary sounded a bit shocked, and Armand admitted to himself that he was probably expecting something beyond his abilities and experience, but this would be a good test for how well he could adapt and work on his initiative, and if he knew when to ask for help. “I can’t manage anything as elegant as this.”
“I don’t expect that, or for you to actually decorate yourself. What I want is for you to work with the decorating firm to pick out the materials and colours and approve their plans. I’ll make the arrangements for them to come in, but I won’t be there to talk with them about what we want. As for this place, it’s a rental property, which is why there’s so much cream and why everything’s so simple. I’ll own the apartment we move into.” Even though he’d only have to pay 10% of the price with the rest financed by the family accounts. Armand had made sure that he could pay his share from his savings when deciding which apartments to look at, although he knew that his older brother Jean had to have got a mortgage to pay for his property.
“I see. Will I be sharing your bed until we move then?” Hilary lowered his pack to the floor as he spoke, and Armand moved an empty, pine chest towards him. It was cheap, and didn’t fit the decor, but it would do until they moved and Hilary could pick out something that he liked better, then later it would do as a toy box for his children.
“Of course. There’s nowhere else you could sleep, not comfortably. Now, you can pack your clothes in this chest, and I want to see what you’ve got.” If anything was suitable for the party they’d be going to in the evening they could skip the visit to Julio this afternoon.
“Ah...this tunic is dirty, I wore it yesterday and there wasn’t time to clean it so...” Hilary glanced up from where he’d knelt - on the soft rug at least - to empty his pack.
“It can go in the laundry basket later then. Just put it aside for now.” Hilary obeyed silently, then glanced up at him almost calculatingly before pulling out two more folded pieces of clothing.
“These are just tunics like the one I’m wearing, except for the colour. Do you need to see them unfolded Armand, or can I just put them away as they are?”
“Just put them away.” The knee length tunics looked like silk, or a silk blend at least, but worn without anything else except the gaudy sandals Hilary had on they screamed ‘sex slave’ and he didn’t want that. He’d hoped for some decent trousers, but what Hilary was pulling out now looked more like exercise clothes. When Hilary laid an outfit consisting of a pair of jogging pants, a sweatshirt and a T-shirt out it confirmed his assumption.
“I’ve got another three outfits just like this, except the T-shirts are different colours. Do you need to see those, or can I put them away as well?”
“Go ahead, put them away.” Hilary nodded and pulled out white sports socks...Armand couldn’t tell how many pairs there were, but it didn’t matter, and he told Hilary that he didn’t need to count those either. Then he pulled out two pairs of swimming trunks, and a pair of trainers before sitting back on his heels.
“That’s everything. Do you really want me to put my trainers in the chest with the rest?”
“No, you can leave those beside the chest, and keep that near one of the walls. I expected you to have more clothes, what else do you have in the pack?”
“Just my hairbrush, about twenty hairbands, my toothbrush and deodorant.” Hilary stood and moved the chest to the nearest wall as he spoke, emptying his pack and only keeping the toothbrush and deodorant out - both rather cheap brands. “I’ve got more clothes than most of the others at The Facility. Most of us only get one set of clothes to work out in, and the busty girls don’t even get that, although they do get an extra swimsuit.”
“Well you need something for tonight. Put those in the bathroom then join me in my office. It’s just across the hall from here and I’ll leave the door open.”
“Thank you Armand.” Hilary brushed his hair back from his face as he spoke, but let Armand precede him out of the bedroom - presumably so he could see which door Armand went through. A smart move, and one Armand definitely approved of.
When he entered his office his gaze fell on the box his mother had given him that morning, telling him he’d understand why after he’d picked his pleasure slave up, and he opened it to look through while he made his calls.
The valet first.
“Matt, it’s Armand Terenev, I will want the Genin Pica again today.”
“Yes sir. Would you like it brought to the stairs or the lift?”
“The stairs of course.” It was just over half an hour until his appointment with Julio. “In fifteen minutes please.”
“Yes sir.” With that Matt hung up on him, and Armand frowned at the contents of the box. Why would he need a laminated copy of the alphabet, or of any number of poems? When he heard the toilet flush it reminded him to stop wool-gathering, and he dialled Julio’s mobile.
“Hello, Julio Veneti speaking?”
“It’s Armand, I’m calling to let you know that I will be using the provisional appointment I’d made today.”
“Of course. Your new pet arrive with nothing but the clothes on his back then?”
“It wasn’t quite that bad, but he’s got nothing suitable for a party, not by my reckoning anyway.” As he spoke Armand turned back to his desk and reached for the folder he’d prepared with information on the people allowed into the apartment, to give Hilary something to do on the drive over, or while he was waiting for Julio to find outfits for him.
“I understand sir, and I promise I’ll make him look stunning. Is there anything I can look for before he arrives?”
“No, wait, yes there is.” Armand had a visceral memory of how Hilary had looked brushing his hair from his face that changed his mind. “Some sort of clip to hold his hair back and out of his face.”
“Yes sir. I’ll see you in half an hour then?”
“Yes, we’ll see you in half an hour.” He put the phone down and glanced around, looking for Hilary, smiling when he saw the boy sitting at the table, where he’d left that confusing box.
“We’re going out again Armand?”
“Yes. We’ve got a party to go to tonight, and you need something to wear for it. Here, I’ve put together files on the people who need or might want access to my apartment while I’m away, you can read through them while I’m driving, or while we’re waiting for Julio to get things for you.”
Hilary accepted the folder, but didn’t open it, looking up at Armand with a mix of pain and fear in his grey eyes.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” He couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and put a hand on Hilary’s shoulder, hopefully comforting him.
“Because I can’t read.” Armand had never even considered that as a possibility, but it explained the box his mother had given him, and meant this was some sort of test.
“But you’re supposed to be educated.” It was probably a stupid comment, but he was pretty sure how to read and write was the first thing he’d learned - in fact he remembered knowing how to read a bit even before he started formal lessons.
“I am, I can discuss a number of ballets, plays and operas, and I’ll be able to discuss any new play, opera or ballet I see, and apply those principles to any film I see. I’ve memorised a number of poems, and I can discuss the literary merits of any new poems that I hear.”
Armand grabbed the first of the laminated poems that came to hand and started reading it aloud. “I must down to the sea again...”
“...to the lonely sea and the sky
And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by.”
“That’s enough. I think I see what you mean. But you really should have learned to read and write first. It’s going to be harder now. Give me that folder back.” Armand stood once he had the folder in his hands to look for the brightly coloured folders he’d seen just a week ago. “Do you speak any other languages besides Ardisch?”
“Ardisch? I can only speak this language. I know there’s other languages, but I wasn’t taught any of them.” So he’d have to arrange for him to learn that as well. Would it be better to teach Hilary a language Armand knew first, so he could help the boy learn, or a language he didn’t so Hilary would be able to serve as his interpreter in future? He caught sight of the time and decided to table the question for later.
“Right, come with me, we don’t have time to talk this through now, but I’m not angry with you. Do you at least know the alphabet, or will I have to teach you that as well?”
~~~0~~~
“I’ll test you on this again later, but for now I want to explain the basic protocol for when you’re out in public with me.”
“Is that different from how you want me to behave in your apartment then?” If Armand thought he could handle the distraction of talking to Hilary while he was driving Hilary wasn’t going to try to contradict him, or imply that he disagreed.
“Some things are, yes. It’s crude to flaunt owning a pleasure slave, so I’ll introduce you as my lover or my companion.” Armand paused, as if he was considering what to say next before continuing. “When we’re in public stay with me at all times, unless I give you specific instructions otherwise. If you need to use the toilet put your hand against my lower back. You’re allowed to disagree with me, in public and in private on any subject but politics, finances and business matters. When I’m making plans, or if we’re involved in planning group activities you are allowed to make suggestions and argue your case, but the final decision is mine. Was all of that clear?”
“Yes.” Armand had approved of his earlier recap. “Don’t mention that I’m your slave in public, and stay with you and touch your back when I need to use the toilet whenever you take me out of the apartment. If you give me other specific instructions those supersede the general instructions. Never contradict you when it comes to subjects I know nothing about.” He wouldn’t have done that anyway, and it was a quicker summarisation than Armand had used. “And when you’re making plans I can have some input, but once you’ve made a decision it’s final. What do I do if someone realises what I am?”
“People will suspect anyway, you’re younger and prettier than me, and you’re not from one of the families in my social circle, but if anyone’s uncouth enough to ask directly you can be as rude as you like in telling them to mind their own business. If they hint around about it then you can just pretend to be oblivious to anything but the surface meaning of their words. If anyone asks you directly if you can vote, or how you intend to vote, again, be as rude as you like in telling them it’s none of their business, but otherwise just say you have no interest in politics.”
“I can be rude if they ask if I’m a pleasure slave or about voting directly because they’ve been rude first?”
“Pretty much. Hush now, I don’t park that often, and Fermats’ car park tends to be crowded.” It was also pretty dark, and Armand had to drive up three ramps to find a space, but he didn’t seem to mind that. Armand took the folders he’d give Hilary to carry from him once he’d locked the car up and began leading him through the car park to a door. “Normally I’d use the main entrance, and have someone send for Julio, but under the circumstances I’ve arranged to meet him at his dressing room.”
“Because it’s obvious that I’m a pleasure slave at the moment?”
“Yes. If you had some decent trousers it wouldn’t be a problem, but in just the tunic? It’s obviously meant for ease of access.”
“And the exercise clothes wouldn’t have been suitable for coming here?” Hilary glanced around, checking that no one was in hearing distance as they entered the store before adding another question. “Also, is this a social occasion?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, shopping can be classed as a social occasion. And no, exercise clothes wouldn’t have been appropriate. They should only be worn in public when exercising, or on your way to somewhere to exercise.”
“Because it’s not very attractive?”
“It’s not that. But it shows that you aren’t going to make an effort to groom yourself appropriately. Hello Julio.”
“Armand, and who is your beautiful companion?” The man had an odd accent, and his skin was a chocolaty colour.
“This is Hilary. He needs a pair of boots, some nice jeans and a silk shirt for the party, and some decent jeans for our appointment on Saturday, if there’s enough time. Hilary, go with Julio and do what he says.”
Hilary found himself obeying without even thinking about it, following Julio through into a separate room even though he was nervous about leaving his master’s side.
“Take that tunic off beautiful, I need to measure you first. Any preferences on colours?” His opinion mattered?
“Ah...purple doesn’t really work that well for me, and red can be chancy. Might I ask a question?”
“Go ahead.” Julio’s answer as almost absent as he began taking measurements, starting at Hilary’s waist.
“Armand said ‘nice’ and ‘decent’ as if they were codes between you, is that so or have you just been dealing with him long enough to know what he meant?”
“A bit of both I suppose, ‘nice’ means designer, the sort of thing that costs a week’s wages or more for someone on minimum wage, and ‘decent’ means good quality, but nothing special.”
“Oh, I see.” It made sense that his master would want to dress him well, to display him, even if he introduced Hilary as his companion or lover - everyone would realise Hilary was his dependant in some way considering how he’d been told to act. “Did you really want to know what colours I’d prefer?”
“Yes. Armand doesn’t approve of stonewashing or fancy colours when it comes to jeans, so you have a choice of white, indigo or black for those.”
“Not white. I’d have to worry about keeping them clean if I was wearing white jeans. I’d prefer indigo over black. And...can you find a shirt in green, a dark rich shade if there’s anything like that?”
“I should be able to find something suitable.” Julio laughed as he spoke, bending to measure the inside of Hilary’s leg from the groin to the ankle. “I’m used to clients being a lot more demanding and specific.” He straightened and began taking measurements above the waist, finishing by wrapping his tape measure around Hilary’s neck, and only his determination not to embarrass Armand kept him from moving. “You can get dressed now.” He folded the tape measure up carefully and turned to the table near the wall, putting the tape measure into a drawer and picking up a box.
“Here, you can look through these while I find something to your specifications and Armand’s. Did you have any preferences about the boots?”
“Whatever Armand wishes.” He was too overwhelmed by the way Julio was treating him to make any further decisions; he couldn’t quite believe he’d made so many decisions already today, even if they were only in what to wear.
“As you wish, beautiful. You can sit by your master while you look through those, I think you’d be more comfortable there anyway.”
“Yes, I would.” He hesitated, waiting for Julio to wave him on ahead before leaving the room and joining Armand where he sat.
“What sort of boots should I find for Hilary then Armand? I don’t think he really knows what sort of choices he has.”
“Cowboy boots, or riding boots. Work boots or hiking boots wouldn’t be appropriate, and you know I don’t approve of high heels, on men or on women.”
“I know.” Julio sounded amused as he answered. “I still can’t quite believe your sisters were willing to let you forbid them to buy high heels the first time you brought them to see me. Do you have a preference in colour, either of you?”
“Hilary, is there a colour you’d prefer?” Armand lifted Hilary’s chin with the back of his fingers, forcing him to turn his face towards him.
“I don’t really like black that much.” It made him look ill.
“Right. Julio, see if you can find boots in dark brown, as long as it won’t clash too badly with the rest of the outfit.”
“It shouldn’t. He needs underwear as well, should I bring boxers or briefs?” Julio looked at Hilary, almost as if he expected him to answer the question - he wasn’t even sure what the different types of underwear were, and he focused on looking into the box he’d been given, opening one of the jewellery boxes inside to find a silver hair clip set with amber.
“Bring a pack of both, so Hilary can have a chance to try them both out by Saturday. And he needs socks as well of course, guess the colour doesn’t really matter if he’s wearing boots, but make them pure cotton.”
“That I can do. You don’t want me to get anyone to help me carry the clothes, or bring them back so you can get a start at seeing how they fit, do you?”
“If you really need to have someone help then go ahead, and if you want to send someone back so Hilary can try things on without you, send them with the underwear and the decent pairs of jeans. Just make sure they’re discreet.”
“Yes, Maria knows how to keep her mouth shut. But it’s not as if any of your peers is likely to listen to ‘servant’s gossip’, is it now?” And Julio left while Armand was still laughing at that.
“He isn’t entirely right, some of my enemies and rivals would listen to ‘servant’s gossip’, or bribe the people who work for me to give them information, but no-one I trust would talk freely in front of them, or accept those bribes without telling me afterwards. Anyway, recite the alphabet for me.”
“Yes Armand.” Hilary wasn’t sure why his master had chosen to tell him anything about his rivals, unless it was a warning to him to be careful about what he said and to whom, but he simply filed the information away for later. “A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z.”
“Good, now, which of these clips do you like?”
“I haven’t looked at all of them yet, but so far I like these two.” Both silver - at least he assumed they were silver, not a similarly coloured metal - one was the first hair clip he’d seen, oval, set with amber and the other was a bar set with colourless stones that were too big to be diamonds.
“Hmm. Will they both work to hold your hair at the nape of your neck, or covering a hairband that holds it in place?”
“I’d think so Armand. If you want it to be perfect and stay that way I’ll need some hairpins and hairspray as well, but if you want a more or less casual effect one of these will do fine.” He didn’t like asking for more than his master was already giving him, but he didn’t want to disappoint him either.
“A casual effect will be quite alright. You’d probably need to choose the hairpins yourself, wouldn’t you?”
“That would be best, yes.”
“Then keep on looking, pick out one more clip that you like I’ll get you the three of them.” Armand plucked the two clips Hilary had shown him out of his hand, and returned to sorting through the files he’d prepared before he realised Hilary couldn’t read.
Hilary looked through the remaining hair clips, rejecting the copper ones on sight, and eventually finding a silver clip enamelled in green and blue, just before a woman arrived, her arms full of clothes.
“Julio sent me with six pairs of jeans for Hilary to try on, along with some underwear. How many pairs of jeans are you intending to buy today?” Armand looked almost angry at the way she was ignoring Hilary, and talking over him, but...it was a lot closer to what he was used to and comfortable with than the casual compliments Julio offered, or the way Armand was treating him as something frighteningly close to a freeborn man.
“Hilary, go try them on, I was planning on just buying you one pair today, for Saturday, but if you find a second pair you like and feel comfortable wearing before Julio returns I’ll get both pairs for you.”
“Thank you, Armand.” Was he implying that he didn’t care particularly what they looked like on? Best ask for confirmation. “You don’t want to see what I look like in the jeans before agreeing to buy them then?”
“No, as long as they aren’t obscenely tight, or sloppily loose I don’t care.” Armand dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, smiling at the woman, Maria? “And that isn’t likely given that Julio picked them out for you.”
“I understand.” Hilary took the jeans from the woman’s arms and turned to go into the dressing room, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Remember to put some underwear on before you try the jeans for size.”
“I will.” It wasn’t something he’d have thought of, but he didn’t like the way she’d looked at him as she gave those instructions. And from the way Armand looked at her as he went into the dressing room he didn’t like it either. Hilary could half hear him speaking to her through the door while he tried on the jeans, putting on a pair of boxers rather than briefs, and eventually deciding on two of the four indigo pairs Julio had sent, without even bothering to try on either of the black pairs.
He folded the pairs he’d tried on again, keeping the two he preferred separate, and brought the rejected pairs back out to where Armand had returned to sorting through those files of his. the woman was still waiting, and she came over to take the jeans from him.
“Are these the ones you want me to return...sir?” Armand frowned a bit at her hesitation in using the respectful form of address, but Hilary was almost shocked that she’d used it at all, even if it was only at his master’s instructions. And that explained it; her disrespect, almost rudeness, towards him, reflected badly on Armand, so he’d made sure she would treat him with respect in future.
“Yes. I left the two pairs I liked in the dressing room.” He directed his last comment more towards Armand than to her, and Julio arrived, pushing a small cart full of clothes, just in time to catch the end of it.
“You found something you liked then?”
“Yes, two comfortable pairs of jeans. How many outfits did you bring?”
“Four pairs of boots, three pairs of jeans, and nine different shirts.” Julio turned towards Armand then, speaking to him rather than to Hilary. “I brought a couple of belts as well. I thought Hilary could try them on after you’ve decided on the rest of what he’ll be wearing.”
“Hmm...I suppose it depends on what sort of shirt he ends up wearing. Hilary, pick whichever pair of boots is most comfortable for you, but I’ll want to see the rest.”
“Yes Armand. Thank you.” The concern for his comfort was entirely in keeping with his master’s generosity thus far, but more than he’d ever expected or experienced before today. The pair of jeans he ended up picking had silver rivets, while the shirt Armand preferred was dark green silk, lacing at the neck with open cuffs, and fitted close enough around the waist that Armand did end up buying a belt the same colour as the cowboy boots he preferred, with a silver buckle.
~~~0~~~
“I said I’d show you the exercise facilities. They’re five floors up, are you up to taking the stairs?”
“Of course.” Hilary answered without really thinking, responding from the ingrained instinct to please, and co-operate with whatever his master wanted, then realised how badly his feet were already aching. “Only...I’d like to change out of these sandals into my trainers first.”
“Put a pair of jeans on as well then.” There was a faint frown on Armand’s face as Hilary obeyed, pulling one of the ‘decent’ pairs of jeans from his chest and putting it on, followed by the trainers.
“Is something wrong Armand?”
“Will you be alright at the party tonight? There will be seats, but we’ll probably be standing or dancing for most of the time, and we could be there for four hours, maybe even longer.”
“I...don’t know.” He could endure it, Hilary knew that much, but that really wasn’t the question Armand had asked him. In fact his master’s question had sounded almost like he wanted to know if Hilary would be comfortable standing for that long. “I should be okay if I can stay off my feet for an hour or so before the party.”
Armand took a long considering look at him after he answered, and Hilary was sure he’d said something wrong, or his master had decided there was some sort of problem, but he resisted the urge to drop to his knees, even if he couldn’t help shivering under the man’s appraisal.
“No, you won’t. You need to rest, at least stay off your feet until we have to leave. I wish I could have made this a bit less stressful to you, but...Jean brought Gwen to his Family party in a dress that showed her off to perfection, and Marie brought Jocelin to her Family party in something a bit more ornate than your tunics. I’m not bringing you to my Family party looking so drawn.”
“Ah...right.” Hilary bent down to pull his trainers off again. “Do you want me to take my jeans off as well then?”
“If it will make you more comfortable. There’s a few more things I need to explain to you, because I won’t have time tomorrow before I leave for work, but I figured I could do the explaining while you’re lying down.”
And even if Armand hadn’t said anything about it, he’d probably want to move on to sex afterwards. Well it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship to lose his virginity to his new owner. But Hilary didn’t have time to reply before his master turned and left the room, so he simply pulled the jeans off, along with the ‘briefs’ he was still wearing from trying those clothes on. He folded the jeans away, but he wasn’t quite certain about what to do with the briefs, so he just left them on top of his chest and moved over to stretch out on the bed, arranging himself to look as good as he could, while still relaxing.
“Oh!” There was a hint of something uncomfortably close to awe in Armand’s voice, and Hilary quickly redefined it into admiration in his head, rather than dwell on the implications of that. “I could probably use a nap too, so once I’ve talked you through the things you need to know for tomorrow I’ll set the alarm, shut the curtains, and we can rest until it’s time to eat.”
“You’ll want me to eat with you then?” He’d been warned that eating with his master would probably be a special treat, not something that happened normally, but given that Armand intended to pass him off as a freeborn lover as far as most people were concerned...
“Of course.” There was a hint of dismay in his voice as he continued speaking, coming to sit on the side of the bed. “I didn’t think to ask earlier, but did you eat at the Heterae Facility before I picked you up?”
“Yes, I ate breakfast, and then an early lunch just before I was brought to wait for you. There won’t be food at the party then, or is it that the food will be served fairly late in the evening?”
“There won’t be any food at all. Buffets are a bit too...informal for this sort of celebration, and we don’t do a formal dinner for this.” Armand laid the things he’d been carrying on the bed beside him and leaned forward to remove his own shoes before continuing the conversation, opening the green folder and pulling out a sheet of paper with a photograph clipped to one corner.
“This is my cook. She comes in every Monday and prepares meals for the rest of the week, meals that she freezes so that all I have to do is put them in the oven and heat them for an hour. She’s got a time-limited access keycard that allows her to do that, and all the other people in this folder have similar keycards.”
“Because they do work here while you’re busy, doing your own job?” And wasn’t that a strange thought, his owner actually working for a living?
“Yes. There’s the cleaners, the grocery deliverers, and the people who pick up the laundry and return clean, ironed clothes twice a week. But I wanted to point Mrs. Dean out to you because if there’s anything particular you’d like to eat, or would rather not eat, she’s the one you need to talk to.”
“I don’t have any allergies, you would have already been told if I did.” And Hilary certainly wouldn’t presume to dictate what he would and would not eat for any other reason.
“I know.” Armand laughed as he lay down, reaching to stroke Hilary’s hair for a moment. “But she already knows my preferences, and it won’t do any harm for her to indulge yours as well, so long as they don’t conflict with mine. Put her file back in the folder, and we can continue.”
“I’ll keep the folder then?” Hilary was ready to hand it back if Armand wanted it, but it looked as if it had been prepared for him.
“Yes. Will you be able to prepare lunch and breakfast for yourself?”
“I think so. I wasn’t taught how to cook, but breakfast is just a matter of pouring cereal and milk into a bowl, and lunch would be fruit, or sandwiches, which are just two slices of bread spread with butter and cut meat put between them?”
“Yes, that will work.” Armand frowned for a second then smiled, as he reached for the blue folder. “I don’t know much beyond that myself, if you want to you could always ask Mrs. Dean for lessons, but you don’t have to. This folder contains people with keycards, for emergencies mainly. If they come here while I’m out they’re welcome, but don’t feel obliged to entertain them.”
“But it would be a good idea if I’m not busy?” If they were that close to his master Hilary didn’t want to do anything to make them think he was being rude.
“Yes, and there’s a couple who’ll probably be...reluctant to accept that you’re busy if you aren’t working on one of the two tasks I’ll be setting you for while I’m out.”
“Is this a good time to ask what those tasks will be?” Hilary had inched a bit closer to Armand as he accepted the blue folder, and put it with the green, but not close enough to touch more than his hand, not yet.
“Let me explain this last folder first. And I haven’t quite decided on the specifics of second task yet.” Given how much preparation it was obvious Armand had made that was really surprising - unless it was connected to his questions about Hilary’s education.
“As you wish.” He accepted the purple folder, and opened it to confirm that it contained sheets of paper with photographs clipped to them like the other two did. “What do I need to know about the people you’ve written about in here?”
“They’re mostly family, and fairly close, by blood ties, if not by emotion. But they don’t have keycards. So, if they turn up while I’m not here it’s up to you whether to allow them in, or refuse them on the basis that I’m not here. But you aren’t allowed to let anyone else in the apartment who doesn’t have a file in one of those three folders. Even police or other officials.”
“I’ll have to tell any officials that I’m a pleasure slave if you expect me to refuse them entrance, and I might need to tell other people that too.”
“If they’ve got any manners most people will accept your refusal on the basis that you don’t own the apartment, or pay the rent, but if you have to tell them about your status I’ll understand. Now, the exercise facilities.”
“You won’t have time to show them to me tomorrow morning.” And Hilary didn’t really expect that Armand would want to bother himself with showing his slave around in the evening, after working, especially not when they were only going to be here for another month.
“No, but...I don’t actually think I need to show you to them. The exercise facilities take up the whole of the tenth floor. You’ll need to use your keycard to access them, but that won’t be a problem, since the only limitation on it is that you can’t use it to leave the building, or enter it.”
“Of course.” So that he wouldn’t have any easy temptation to do something as stupid as running away. “And you’re right, I think I’ll be able to find it myself.”
“Good. Now, I want you to learn to read and write while I’m at work. I’m not entirely sure how it would be best for you to learn, and I’ll find that out for you, but for now, take a look at this.” Armand handed over the last of the things he’d brought in with him. It was a sheet of some sort of plastic, with a number of odd shapes on it...some that he vaguely recognised from the covers of the books his tutors had read from, or as parts of the symbols that came after the numbers on his weights.
“This is a printed alphabet, showing the upper and lower case letters as pairs.” Armand pointed to the first symbol, a triangle with the base lifted. “This is an upper case A. That’s what we use to signify the letter A at the beginning of a sentence or to start the name of a person or a place.” Hilary nodded, that made sense to him, and Armand moved on to the next symbol, a bit like circle with a line joined to the right hand side. “This is a lower case A, it’s used for most of a sentence, except for the two cases where an uppercase letter is used.”
“I think I understand. So this next pair of symbols,” Hilary point to these himself, one a line with two near semi-circles curving out from it to the right, and the other a line with a near full circle joined to it at the bottom. “are an upper and lower case B, with the upper case coming first?”
“Yes.” Armand sounded pleased by the question. “The full alphabet is written out here, in the order you memorised. I want you to spend half an hour a day copying out this alphabet, so that you get used to it, and learn how to form the letters properly. You don’t have to always do it in order, but spend a solid half an hour on it every day.”
“Yes Armand.” After lunch would probably be the best time...although Hilary wasn’t sure what else he could do while his master was at work, besides exercise and practise writing the alphabet. “I can do that in your office?”
“Yes, I’ll set out a pen and pencil for you, along with some lined paper. Now, I think we’ve discussed everything you need to know for tomorrow, unless you’ve got any further questions?”
This wasn’t the time to ask about the second task Armand had for him, not if he hadn’t quite decided on the details, and Hilary swiftly decided against asking about the two doors Armand hadn’t identified yet. Instead he put the alphabet aside and pressed himself up against his master, nuzzling into his shoulder.
“No, I don’t.” He kept his voice low and as seductive as he could manage as he stroked Armand’s upper arms through his shirt, until his master took hold of him by the shoulders and pushed him away, just a little.
“No, I wasn’t hinting that I wanted to have sex with you. I want to leave that until we can take our time about it, maybe tomorrow evening, or during the weekend.” A firm voice, and a refusal, he didn’t dare look at Armand’s face, for fear of seeing the anger in his eyes.
“Y-yes Master. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to presume...” How could he have been so arrogant? “Please forgive this unworthy slave.” It was his master’s right to decide when and how sex happened, not his, and he knew better than to try take control like that. He couldn’t move to an appropriately subservient position, not while his master held him like this, so he just kept on babbling apologies. “I beg your pardon for my insolence, truly I do.” The time since Master Armand had collected him had been so wonderful, with his owner actually encouraging him to make decisions, and now he’d gone and screwed up on his first day?
“Hey!” The sharpness of his master’s voice riveted Hilary’s attention, and forced him into silence. “I’m not angry at you. I appreciate it that you wanted to show that you’re willing, I just have different plans. But now I want you to lie down and go to sleep, rest so that you don’t embarrass me in front of my Family by looking like I don’t take care of you.” The prospect of embarrassing his master when Master Armand introduced him to his Family was even more terrifying, and Hilary realised he was shaking almost convulsively, no matter how hard he tried to stop it and relax as his master wished.
“Oh Chaos! You’re not going to be able to relax now, are you?”
“N-no Master, not really.” Not when he felt himself flinching from the disgust in Master Armand’s voice, even though intellectually he knew it wasn’t directed at him.
“Hush, it’s okay. Will it help enough if I left you to sleep alone, or do you need something else to relax you?” Master Armand’s concern only heightened Hilary’s sense of failure, but he wasn’t going to compound that failure by not answering a question.
“I...need to please you, Master.”
“We can work with that.” Armand sat up, unfastening his trousers and reaching in to pull his cock out through his fly. “Show me how well you learned to use your mouth then.”
“Yes Master.” The discipline of approaching his master’s cock right, and of pleasing him, working out just what made him feel good, brought a measure of calm to Hilary, even if he could taste traces of piss at first it wasn’t much and it was soon gone, replaced by that salty musk, and then the taste of semen as Armand climaxed in his mouth.
“Good, you did well.” His master was stroking his hair, speaking soothingly, and this time Hilary was able to relax and co-operate as Master Armand tucked him into bed alone and kissed his cheek. “Just rest for now.”
Hadn’t Master Armand said something about needing a nap himself? But after how close he’d come to his master’s anger Hilary couldn’t muster up the courage to say anything as he went to close the curtains then walked out the door, choosing instead to at least rest even if he couldn’t sleep.
Hilary knelt, back perfectly straight, arms folded behind it so that he gripped each elbow in the opposite hand, and watched the door his master would be coming through. He wondered what the man would be like, and if he’d please him - he’d been scared that the reason he hadn’t been collected on his sixteenth birthday the way the other slaves that had an owner waiting for them had been was that his owner had decided he didn’t want him. And if he was no longer wanted then no doubt The Facility would send his file out to create interest in him for auction the way they did with the slaves they’d bought on speculation. But his trainer had reassured him and explained that his collection date had been specified along with his training when he’d been delivered to them ten, nearly eleven, years ago.
Now he just hoped that his master wasn’t expecting him to have a gladiator’s muscles simply because he was still a whole man, the only pleasure slave who was full male among the girls and castratos he’d trained with. He’d worked at it, he was probably in the best shape of all of them, as well as possibly the best educated in some ways, but he’d never put on that much in the way of muscle despite the hours lifting weights, or on the treadmill or other exercise machines.
The handle was turning on the door. He moved, bowing forward until his forehead rested on the floor, hands to either side of his head for balance.
He could hear two people walking into the room, and one of them sounded like his tutor, Mr Warrington, that limp was pretty distinctive. The other one, most likely his true master, was clearly walking only lightly, and came to a halt near him.
“Up. And I don’t want you to greet me like that ever again.” A young voice, but supremely confident, and Hilary obeyed, returning to his previous position without even risking a quick glance towards his new master to see what he looked like.
“Yes master.” He kept his voice quiet and unobtrusive from habit, even if he couldn’t make it vaguely musical the way some of the others could.
“I wasn’t clear enough, was I?” There was laughter in his master’s voice, not anger, and even if he had been angry it sounded as if he was blaming himself for Hilary’s failure. That wasn’t likely to happen often, but at least he wasn’t going to be punished already.
“No sir, not for a slave you’ve only just met. You can’t expect him to start reading your mind for at least a year.” Hilary felt himself stiffening at that - he knew that Mr Warrington was joking, but would his new master?
“Unless someone’s been doing some highly unorthodox modifications he won’t be reading my mind at all.” Humour, and a hint of light reproof there. “But I know what you mean, he should get used to my expectations the longer he stays with me. I meant for you to stand up, and you can look at me. There’s no point in telling you to relax just yet is there?”
“Ah...no master.” Hilary obediently stood, doing his best to look relaxed, even if he didn’t feel it, clasping his hands behind his back and looking at the two men. His new master looked to be in his early twenties; golden was the word that came to mind. His hair was a dark gold blonde and his eyes were a light, almost golden, brown, and his skin had a golden tint to it as well. He wasn’t handsome, but he was striking, there was a presence about him - and it was charisma, not just the fact that he was taller than Hilary.
“Right, first rule. You’re allowed to speak, unless I specifically tell you not to, and you can call me Armand in private and in social settings. Sir, or Mr Terenev in business or other more formal circumstances. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir, it’s clear. Armand in private or in social settings, and sir or Mr Terenev in business or more formal circumstances.” Should he take the risk of expanding a bit? Yes, he was only requesting further clarification, and his master had already admitted to being insufficiently clear once. “To be defined by you beforehand?” That won a burst of laughter from Master Armand, but there didn’t seem to be any cruelty in it.
“Yes, I’ll give you instruction before we go anywhere if it differs from the defaults we’ll build up. Now, what’s your name?”
“Hilary, sir.” He didn’t let his surprise that Master Armand didn’t already know his name show; there could easily be a reason he didn’t know for that, and it would be insulting and arrogant if he implied that Master Armand should know his name.
“Hilary...I see. That’s...” A girl’s name? He knew that, and he just hoped Master Armand wouldn’t feel the need to change his name again. “a rather old-fashioned name. I can’t imagine it being given to a purpose-bred unless he was meant as a pleasure slave from that start?”
“No sir, I don’t know what I was intended for, but I was five when I was renamed to Hilary and brought here.” Mr Warrington had a faintly scandalised look on his face to hear that, but his master had said he could speak unless told otherwise, and he looked to approve.
“I see. Do you have your things packed?”
“Yes sir.” Hilary turned slightly, pointing to the pack he’d put in the corner of the room. “I was told to pack everything yesterday since you would be collecting me today.”
“You’ve said whatever goodbyes you wanted to say then?” Hilary had the oddest feeling as he turned back to his master that if he said ‘no’ he’d be allowed to go and speak to the few friends he still had now, and that his master would wait for him.
“Yes Mr Terenev, I have.” Most of his friends had been older than he was, and they’d made sure to say goodbye the day before they left, if they’d been given any warning, so he certainly hadn’t been about to waste the warning he’d been given. Most of them had offered their best wishes, and meant it, but Paul hadn’t managed to hide his jealousy, and Hilary couldn’t help wondering what would happen to him if The Facility couldn’t sell him because he’d lost his beauty when he went through puberty.
“Good. Pick up your pack and come with me then.”
“Yes sir.” A look of irritation flickered over Master Armand’s face, and Hilary realised he’d have preferred silent obedience this time, something to remember for the future. He tried to follow the prescribed three steps behind his master, and one to the right, but Master Armand paused, and reached back to pull Hilary level with him.
“When I tell you to come with me that means I want you beside me, or at most half a step back. If I ever want you to trail behind me like that I’ll tell you to follow me.”
“I appreciate the precision...Armand.” Hilary wasn’t entirely sure it was appropriate for him to use the name now, but Mr Warrington hadn’t followed them into the corridor, and Master Armand gave a pleased smile.
“You’re welcome. And I’m glad you can use my name. Since I haven’t given you any guidance yet it’s good to know that you can use your judgement.”
“Thank you.” He was familiar with the rather institutional corridors they were following, but then Armand turned off into an area that was forbidden to the slaves here, and Hilary blinked in surprise at the dark wooden panelling on the walls and rich red carpet under their feet.
“I was surprised at how bare the area where I came to collect you was. Did you live somewhere that sterile, Hilary?”
“No, but it wasn’t like this.”
“Hmm.” Master Armand didn’t seem to have anything else to say, and he guided Hilary out to a small car - nothing at all like he’d expected his owner to drive, it only had two doors, and his master opened the passenger door for him in an almost shocking display of chivalry.
“Just put your pack on the back seat, or between your feet if you think that will be comfortable.”
“I think I can manage with it between my feet.” And he wasn’t quite sure how he could put it on the back seat anyway. The footwell was crowded, but not particularly uncomfortable, and Master Armand pulled out into the road with an easy confidence, but Hilary stayed silent rather than risk distracting him.
“Do you want me to hold it for you sir?”
“Please.” Armand smiled at the valet as he handed the keys over and checked the time before expanding. “If I don’t call down for it within an hour you can assume I won’t need it today.”
“Thank you sir.” The valet drove the car away to park as Hilary came up beside him.
“I usually take the stairs, but this time we’ll use the lift, since my apartment’s on the fifth floor.” The lift was a bit nearer to the entrance to the basement car park than the stairs were anyway - even if Armand didn’t really approve of that he understood the reasons behind it.
“I can take the stairs if you’d rather.” There was a slightly offended look on Hilary’s face, and he was glad to see that the Heterae Facility hadn’t trained him to hide his emotions the way Jean’s Gwen did.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re fit enough for that, but your pack looks a bit awkward to carry. I can show you the stairs later on today.”
“Ah...thank you for being so considerate Armand.” Hilary looked almost embarrassed now, and he’d lowered his eyes submissively as he spoke, but the lift arrived before he could do anything about that.
“Hilary, look at me.” The boy immediately tensed even as he obeyed, and Armand mentally cursed his own lack of subtlety. “I don’t have time for as much of an exercise routine as you do, so I only use the lift if I’ve got something heavy or awkward to carry, if I’m running late, or if I’m drunk. But I’ll show you the exercise facilities today and give you a limited keycard so you can use them while I’m at work. Can you swim by the way?”
“Yes Armand.” Hilary offered him a shaky smile. “For the girls with bigger breasts swimming is the best type of exercise, so The Facility had a swimming pool and most of us are taught to swim.”
“I guess that makes sense.” Even if it was something he’d never thought about before. Not that it mattered, and they’d reached their floor anyway. “This way.” He checked to make sure Hilary hadn’t decided to trail behind him again, but the boy seemed to realise what he wanted without further explanation.
He’d pulled his keycard out as they walked, and he swiped to open the door, holding it so that Hilary could get past, into the entry hall, before joining him.
“There’s only one bedroom, and the decor’s a bit bland, but when we move into a bigger apartment in a month I’ll let you deal with the decorating.” He took hold of Hilary’s elbow as he spoke, leading him through to the bedroom, pointing out the doors to the kitchen/dining room and the bathroom as they passed.
“You’ll expect me to decorate your new apartment?” Hilary sounded a bit shocked, and Armand admitted to himself that he was probably expecting something beyond his abilities and experience, but this would be a good test for how well he could adapt and work on his initiative, and if he knew when to ask for help. “I can’t manage anything as elegant as this.”
“I don’t expect that, or for you to actually decorate yourself. What I want is for you to work with the decorating firm to pick out the materials and colours and approve their plans. I’ll make the arrangements for them to come in, but I won’t be there to talk with them about what we want. As for this place, it’s a rental property, which is why there’s so much cream and why everything’s so simple. I’ll own the apartment we move into.” Even though he’d only have to pay 10% of the price with the rest financed by the family accounts. Armand had made sure that he could pay his share from his savings when deciding which apartments to look at, although he knew that his older brother Jean had to have got a mortgage to pay for his property.
“I see. Will I be sharing your bed until we move then?” Hilary lowered his pack to the floor as he spoke, and Armand moved an empty, pine chest towards him. It was cheap, and didn’t fit the decor, but it would do until they moved and Hilary could pick out something that he liked better, then later it would do as a toy box for his children.
“Of course. There’s nowhere else you could sleep, not comfortably. Now, you can pack your clothes in this chest, and I want to see what you’ve got.” If anything was suitable for the party they’d be going to in the evening they could skip the visit to Julio this afternoon.
“Ah...this tunic is dirty, I wore it yesterday and there wasn’t time to clean it so...” Hilary glanced up from where he’d knelt - on the soft rug at least - to empty his pack.
“It can go in the laundry basket later then. Just put it aside for now.” Hilary obeyed silently, then glanced up at him almost calculatingly before pulling out two more folded pieces of clothing.
“These are just tunics like the one I’m wearing, except for the colour. Do you need to see them unfolded Armand, or can I just put them away as they are?”
“Just put them away.” The knee length tunics looked like silk, or a silk blend at least, but worn without anything else except the gaudy sandals Hilary had on they screamed ‘sex slave’ and he didn’t want that. He’d hoped for some decent trousers, but what Hilary was pulling out now looked more like exercise clothes. When Hilary laid an outfit consisting of a pair of jogging pants, a sweatshirt and a T-shirt out it confirmed his assumption.
“I’ve got another three outfits just like this, except the T-shirts are different colours. Do you need to see those, or can I put them away as well?”
“Go ahead, put them away.” Hilary nodded and pulled out white sports socks...Armand couldn’t tell how many pairs there were, but it didn’t matter, and he told Hilary that he didn’t need to count those either. Then he pulled out two pairs of swimming trunks, and a pair of trainers before sitting back on his heels.
“That’s everything. Do you really want me to put my trainers in the chest with the rest?”
“No, you can leave those beside the chest, and keep that near one of the walls. I expected you to have more clothes, what else do you have in the pack?”
“Just my hairbrush, about twenty hairbands, my toothbrush and deodorant.” Hilary stood and moved the chest to the nearest wall as he spoke, emptying his pack and only keeping the toothbrush and deodorant out - both rather cheap brands. “I’ve got more clothes than most of the others at The Facility. Most of us only get one set of clothes to work out in, and the busty girls don’t even get that, although they do get an extra swimsuit.”
“Well you need something for tonight. Put those in the bathroom then join me in my office. It’s just across the hall from here and I’ll leave the door open.”
“Thank you Armand.” Hilary brushed his hair back from his face as he spoke, but let Armand precede him out of the bedroom - presumably so he could see which door Armand went through. A smart move, and one Armand definitely approved of.
When he entered his office his gaze fell on the box his mother had given him that morning, telling him he’d understand why after he’d picked his pleasure slave up, and he opened it to look through while he made his calls.
The valet first.
“Matt, it’s Armand Terenev, I will want the Genin Pica again today.”
“Yes sir. Would you like it brought to the stairs or the lift?”
“The stairs of course.” It was just over half an hour until his appointment with Julio. “In fifteen minutes please.”
“Yes sir.” With that Matt hung up on him, and Armand frowned at the contents of the box. Why would he need a laminated copy of the alphabet, or of any number of poems? When he heard the toilet flush it reminded him to stop wool-gathering, and he dialled Julio’s mobile.
“Hello, Julio Veneti speaking?”
“It’s Armand, I’m calling to let you know that I will be using the provisional appointment I’d made today.”
“Of course. Your new pet arrive with nothing but the clothes on his back then?”
“It wasn’t quite that bad, but he’s got nothing suitable for a party, not by my reckoning anyway.” As he spoke Armand turned back to his desk and reached for the folder he’d prepared with information on the people allowed into the apartment, to give Hilary something to do on the drive over, or while he was waiting for Julio to find outfits for him.
“I understand sir, and I promise I’ll make him look stunning. Is there anything I can look for before he arrives?”
“No, wait, yes there is.” Armand had a visceral memory of how Hilary had looked brushing his hair from his face that changed his mind. “Some sort of clip to hold his hair back and out of his face.”
“Yes sir. I’ll see you in half an hour then?”
“Yes, we’ll see you in half an hour.” He put the phone down and glanced around, looking for Hilary, smiling when he saw the boy sitting at the table, where he’d left that confusing box.
“We’re going out again Armand?”
“Yes. We’ve got a party to go to tonight, and you need something to wear for it. Here, I’ve put together files on the people who need or might want access to my apartment while I’m away, you can read through them while I’m driving, or while we’re waiting for Julio to get things for you.”
Hilary accepted the folder, but didn’t open it, looking up at Armand with a mix of pain and fear in his grey eyes.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” He couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and put a hand on Hilary’s shoulder, hopefully comforting him.
“Because I can’t read.” Armand had never even considered that as a possibility, but it explained the box his mother had given him, and meant this was some sort of test.
“But you’re supposed to be educated.” It was probably a stupid comment, but he was pretty sure how to read and write was the first thing he’d learned - in fact he remembered knowing how to read a bit even before he started formal lessons.
“I am, I can discuss a number of ballets, plays and operas, and I’ll be able to discuss any new play, opera or ballet I see, and apply those principles to any film I see. I’ve memorised a number of poems, and I can discuss the literary merits of any new poems that I hear.”
Armand grabbed the first of the laminated poems that came to hand and started reading it aloud. “I must down to the sea again...”
“...to the lonely sea and the sky
And all I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by.”
“That’s enough. I think I see what you mean. But you really should have learned to read and write first. It’s going to be harder now. Give me that folder back.” Armand stood once he had the folder in his hands to look for the brightly coloured folders he’d seen just a week ago. “Do you speak any other languages besides Ardisch?”
“Ardisch? I can only speak this language. I know there’s other languages, but I wasn’t taught any of them.” So he’d have to arrange for him to learn that as well. Would it be better to teach Hilary a language Armand knew first, so he could help the boy learn, or a language he didn’t so Hilary would be able to serve as his interpreter in future? He caught sight of the time and decided to table the question for later.
“Right, come with me, we don’t have time to talk this through now, but I’m not angry with you. Do you at least know the alphabet, or will I have to teach you that as well?”
“I’ll test you on this again later, but for now I want to explain the basic protocol for when you’re out in public with me.”
“Is that different from how you want me to behave in your apartment then?” If Armand thought he could handle the distraction of talking to Hilary while he was driving Hilary wasn’t going to try to contradict him, or imply that he disagreed.
“Some things are, yes. It’s crude to flaunt owning a pleasure slave, so I’ll introduce you as my lover or my companion.” Armand paused, as if he was considering what to say next before continuing. “When we’re in public stay with me at all times, unless I give you specific instructions otherwise. If you need to use the toilet put your hand against my lower back. You’re allowed to disagree with me, in public and in private on any subject but politics, finances and business matters. When I’m making plans, or if we’re involved in planning group activities you are allowed to make suggestions and argue your case, but the final decision is mine. Was all of that clear?”
“Yes.” Armand had approved of his earlier recap. “Don’t mention that I’m your slave in public, and stay with you and touch your back when I need to use the toilet whenever you take me out of the apartment. If you give me other specific instructions those supersede the general instructions. Never contradict you when it comes to subjects I know nothing about.” He wouldn’t have done that anyway, and it was a quicker summarisation than Armand had used. “And when you’re making plans I can have some input, but once you’ve made a decision it’s final. What do I do if someone realises what I am?”
“People will suspect anyway, you’re younger and prettier than me, and you’re not from one of the families in my social circle, but if anyone’s uncouth enough to ask directly you can be as rude as you like in telling them to mind their own business. If they hint around about it then you can just pretend to be oblivious to anything but the surface meaning of their words. If anyone asks you directly if you can vote, or how you intend to vote, again, be as rude as you like in telling them it’s none of their business, but otherwise just say you have no interest in politics.”
“I can be rude if they ask if I’m a pleasure slave or about voting directly because they’ve been rude first?”
“Pretty much. Hush now, I don’t park that often, and Fermats’ car park tends to be crowded.” It was also pretty dark, and Armand had to drive up three ramps to find a space, but he didn’t seem to mind that. Armand took the folders he’d give Hilary to carry from him once he’d locked the car up and began leading him through the car park to a door. “Normally I’d use the main entrance, and have someone send for Julio, but under the circumstances I’ve arranged to meet him at his dressing room.”
“Because it’s obvious that I’m a pleasure slave at the moment?”
“Yes. If you had some decent trousers it wouldn’t be a problem, but in just the tunic? It’s obviously meant for ease of access.”
“And the exercise clothes wouldn’t have been suitable for coming here?” Hilary glanced around, checking that no one was in hearing distance as they entered the store before adding another question. “Also, is this a social occasion?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, shopping can be classed as a social occasion. And no, exercise clothes wouldn’t have been appropriate. They should only be worn in public when exercising, or on your way to somewhere to exercise.”
“Because it’s not very attractive?”
“It’s not that. But it shows that you aren’t going to make an effort to groom yourself appropriately. Hello Julio.”
“Armand, and who is your beautiful companion?” The man had an odd accent, and his skin was a chocolaty colour.
“This is Hilary. He needs a pair of boots, some nice jeans and a silk shirt for the party, and some decent jeans for our appointment on Saturday, if there’s enough time. Hilary, go with Julio and do what he says.”
Hilary found himself obeying without even thinking about it, following Julio through into a separate room even though he was nervous about leaving his master’s side.
“Take that tunic off beautiful, I need to measure you first. Any preferences on colours?” His opinion mattered?
“Ah...purple doesn’t really work that well for me, and red can be chancy. Might I ask a question?”
“Go ahead.” Julio’s answer as almost absent as he began taking measurements, starting at Hilary’s waist.
“Armand said ‘nice’ and ‘decent’ as if they were codes between you, is that so or have you just been dealing with him long enough to know what he meant?”
“A bit of both I suppose, ‘nice’ means designer, the sort of thing that costs a week’s wages or more for someone on minimum wage, and ‘decent’ means good quality, but nothing special.”
“Oh, I see.” It made sense that his master would want to dress him well, to display him, even if he introduced Hilary as his companion or lover - everyone would realise Hilary was his dependant in some way considering how he’d been told to act. “Did you really want to know what colours I’d prefer?”
“Yes. Armand doesn’t approve of stonewashing or fancy colours when it comes to jeans, so you have a choice of white, indigo or black for those.”
“Not white. I’d have to worry about keeping them clean if I was wearing white jeans. I’d prefer indigo over black. And...can you find a shirt in green, a dark rich shade if there’s anything like that?”
“I should be able to find something suitable.” Julio laughed as he spoke, bending to measure the inside of Hilary’s leg from the groin to the ankle. “I’m used to clients being a lot more demanding and specific.” He straightened and began taking measurements above the waist, finishing by wrapping his tape measure around Hilary’s neck, and only his determination not to embarrass Armand kept him from moving. “You can get dressed now.” He folded the tape measure up carefully and turned to the table near the wall, putting the tape measure into a drawer and picking up a box.
“Here, you can look through these while I find something to your specifications and Armand’s. Did you have any preferences about the boots?”
“Whatever Armand wishes.” He was too overwhelmed by the way Julio was treating him to make any further decisions; he couldn’t quite believe he’d made so many decisions already today, even if they were only in what to wear.
“As you wish, beautiful. You can sit by your master while you look through those, I think you’d be more comfortable there anyway.”
“Yes, I would.” He hesitated, waiting for Julio to wave him on ahead before leaving the room and joining Armand where he sat.
“What sort of boots should I find for Hilary then Armand? I don’t think he really knows what sort of choices he has.”
“Cowboy boots, or riding boots. Work boots or hiking boots wouldn’t be appropriate, and you know I don’t approve of high heels, on men or on women.”
“I know.” Julio sounded amused as he answered. “I still can’t quite believe your sisters were willing to let you forbid them to buy high heels the first time you brought them to see me. Do you have a preference in colour, either of you?”
“Hilary, is there a colour you’d prefer?” Armand lifted Hilary’s chin with the back of his fingers, forcing him to turn his face towards him.
“I don’t really like black that much.” It made him look ill.
“Right. Julio, see if you can find boots in dark brown, as long as it won’t clash too badly with the rest of the outfit.”
“It shouldn’t. He needs underwear as well, should I bring boxers or briefs?” Julio looked at Hilary, almost as if he expected him to answer the question - he wasn’t even sure what the different types of underwear were, and he focused on looking into the box he’d been given, opening one of the jewellery boxes inside to find a silver hair clip set with amber.
“Bring a pack of both, so Hilary can have a chance to try them both out by Saturday. And he needs socks as well of course, guess the colour doesn’t really matter if he’s wearing boots, but make them pure cotton.”
“That I can do. You don’t want me to get anyone to help me carry the clothes, or bring them back so you can get a start at seeing how they fit, do you?”
“If you really need to have someone help then go ahead, and if you want to send someone back so Hilary can try things on without you, send them with the underwear and the decent pairs of jeans. Just make sure they’re discreet.”
“Yes, Maria knows how to keep her mouth shut. But it’s not as if any of your peers is likely to listen to ‘servant’s gossip’, is it now?” And Julio left while Armand was still laughing at that.
“He isn’t entirely right, some of my enemies and rivals would listen to ‘servant’s gossip’, or bribe the people who work for me to give them information, but no-one I trust would talk freely in front of them, or accept those bribes without telling me afterwards. Anyway, recite the alphabet for me.”
“Yes Armand.” Hilary wasn’t sure why his master had chosen to tell him anything about his rivals, unless it was a warning to him to be careful about what he said and to whom, but he simply filed the information away for later. “A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y, Z.”
“Good, now, which of these clips do you like?”
“I haven’t looked at all of them yet, but so far I like these two.” Both silver - at least he assumed they were silver, not a similarly coloured metal - one was the first hair clip he’d seen, oval, set with amber and the other was a bar set with colourless stones that were too big to be diamonds.
“Hmm. Will they both work to hold your hair at the nape of your neck, or covering a hairband that holds it in place?”
“I’d think so Armand. If you want it to be perfect and stay that way I’ll need some hairpins and hairspray as well, but if you want a more or less casual effect one of these will do fine.” He didn’t like asking for more than his master was already giving him, but he didn’t want to disappoint him either.
“A casual effect will be quite alright. You’d probably need to choose the hairpins yourself, wouldn’t you?”
“That would be best, yes.”
“Then keep on looking, pick out one more clip that you like I’ll get you the three of them.” Armand plucked the two clips Hilary had shown him out of his hand, and returned to sorting through the files he’d prepared before he realised Hilary couldn’t read.
Hilary looked through the remaining hair clips, rejecting the copper ones on sight, and eventually finding a silver clip enamelled in green and blue, just before a woman arrived, her arms full of clothes.
“Julio sent me with six pairs of jeans for Hilary to try on, along with some underwear. How many pairs of jeans are you intending to buy today?” Armand looked almost angry at the way she was ignoring Hilary, and talking over him, but...it was a lot closer to what he was used to and comfortable with than the casual compliments Julio offered, or the way Armand was treating him as something frighteningly close to a freeborn man.
“Hilary, go try them on, I was planning on just buying you one pair today, for Saturday, but if you find a second pair you like and feel comfortable wearing before Julio returns I’ll get both pairs for you.”
“Thank you, Armand.” Was he implying that he didn’t care particularly what they looked like on? Best ask for confirmation. “You don’t want to see what I look like in the jeans before agreeing to buy them then?”
“No, as long as they aren’t obscenely tight, or sloppily loose I don’t care.” Armand dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, smiling at the woman, Maria? “And that isn’t likely given that Julio picked them out for you.”
“I understand.” Hilary took the jeans from the woman’s arms and turned to go into the dressing room, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Remember to put some underwear on before you try the jeans for size.”
“I will.” It wasn’t something he’d have thought of, but he didn’t like the way she’d looked at him as she gave those instructions. And from the way Armand looked at her as he went into the dressing room he didn’t like it either. Hilary could half hear him speaking to her through the door while he tried on the jeans, putting on a pair of boxers rather than briefs, and eventually deciding on two of the four indigo pairs Julio had sent, without even bothering to try on either of the black pairs.
He folded the pairs he’d tried on again, keeping the two he preferred separate, and brought the rejected pairs back out to where Armand had returned to sorting through those files of his. the woman was still waiting, and she came over to take the jeans from him.
“Are these the ones you want me to return...sir?” Armand frowned a bit at her hesitation in using the respectful form of address, but Hilary was almost shocked that she’d used it at all, even if it was only at his master’s instructions. And that explained it; her disrespect, almost rudeness, towards him, reflected badly on Armand, so he’d made sure she would treat him with respect in future.
“Yes. I left the two pairs I liked in the dressing room.” He directed his last comment more towards Armand than to her, and Julio arrived, pushing a small cart full of clothes, just in time to catch the end of it.
“You found something you liked then?”
“Yes, two comfortable pairs of jeans. How many outfits did you bring?”
“Four pairs of boots, three pairs of jeans, and nine different shirts.” Julio turned towards Armand then, speaking to him rather than to Hilary. “I brought a couple of belts as well. I thought Hilary could try them on after you’ve decided on the rest of what he’ll be wearing.”
“Hmm...I suppose it depends on what sort of shirt he ends up wearing. Hilary, pick whichever pair of boots is most comfortable for you, but I’ll want to see the rest.”
“Yes Armand. Thank you.” The concern for his comfort was entirely in keeping with his master’s generosity thus far, but more than he’d ever expected or experienced before today. The pair of jeans he ended up picking had silver rivets, while the shirt Armand preferred was dark green silk, lacing at the neck with open cuffs, and fitted close enough around the waist that Armand did end up buying a belt the same colour as the cowboy boots he preferred, with a silver buckle.
“I said I’d show you the exercise facilities. They’re five floors up, are you up to taking the stairs?”
“Of course.” Hilary answered without really thinking, responding from the ingrained instinct to please, and co-operate with whatever his master wanted, then realised how badly his feet were already aching. “Only...I’d like to change out of these sandals into my trainers first.”
“Put a pair of jeans on as well then.” There was a faint frown on Armand’s face as Hilary obeyed, pulling one of the ‘decent’ pairs of jeans from his chest and putting it on, followed by the trainers.
“Is something wrong Armand?”
“Will you be alright at the party tonight? There will be seats, but we’ll probably be standing or dancing for most of the time, and we could be there for four hours, maybe even longer.”
“I...don’t know.” He could endure it, Hilary knew that much, but that really wasn’t the question Armand had asked him. In fact his master’s question had sounded almost like he wanted to know if Hilary would be comfortable standing for that long. “I should be okay if I can stay off my feet for an hour or so before the party.”
Armand took a long considering look at him after he answered, and Hilary was sure he’d said something wrong, or his master had decided there was some sort of problem, but he resisted the urge to drop to his knees, even if he couldn’t help shivering under the man’s appraisal.
“No, you won’t. You need to rest, at least stay off your feet until we have to leave. I wish I could have made this a bit less stressful to you, but...Jean brought Gwen to his Family party in a dress that showed her off to perfection, and Marie brought Jocelin to her Family party in something a bit more ornate than your tunics. I’m not bringing you to my Family party looking so drawn.”
“Ah...right.” Hilary bent down to pull his trainers off again. “Do you want me to take my jeans off as well then?”
“If it will make you more comfortable. There’s a few more things I need to explain to you, because I won’t have time tomorrow before I leave for work, but I figured I could do the explaining while you’re lying down.”
And even if Armand hadn’t said anything about it, he’d probably want to move on to sex afterwards. Well it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship to lose his virginity to his new owner. But Hilary didn’t have time to reply before his master turned and left the room, so he simply pulled the jeans off, along with the ‘briefs’ he was still wearing from trying those clothes on. He folded the jeans away, but he wasn’t quite certain about what to do with the briefs, so he just left them on top of his chest and moved over to stretch out on the bed, arranging himself to look as good as he could, while still relaxing.
“Oh!” There was a hint of something uncomfortably close to awe in Armand’s voice, and Hilary quickly redefined it into admiration in his head, rather than dwell on the implications of that. “I could probably use a nap too, so once I’ve talked you through the things you need to know for tomorrow I’ll set the alarm, shut the curtains, and we can rest until it’s time to eat.”
“You’ll want me to eat with you then?” He’d been warned that eating with his master would probably be a special treat, not something that happened normally, but given that Armand intended to pass him off as a freeborn lover as far as most people were concerned...
“Of course.” There was a hint of dismay in his voice as he continued speaking, coming to sit on the side of the bed. “I didn’t think to ask earlier, but did you eat at the Heterae Facility before I picked you up?”
“Yes, I ate breakfast, and then an early lunch just before I was brought to wait for you. There won’t be food at the party then, or is it that the food will be served fairly late in the evening?”
“There won’t be any food at all. Buffets are a bit too...informal for this sort of celebration, and we don’t do a formal dinner for this.” Armand laid the things he’d been carrying on the bed beside him and leaned forward to remove his own shoes before continuing the conversation, opening the green folder and pulling out a sheet of paper with a photograph clipped to one corner.
“This is my cook. She comes in every Monday and prepares meals for the rest of the week, meals that she freezes so that all I have to do is put them in the oven and heat them for an hour. She’s got a time-limited access keycard that allows her to do that, and all the other people in this folder have similar keycards.”
“Because they do work here while you’re busy, doing your own job?” And wasn’t that a strange thought, his owner actually working for a living?
“Yes. There’s the cleaners, the grocery deliverers, and the people who pick up the laundry and return clean, ironed clothes twice a week. But I wanted to point Mrs. Dean out to you because if there’s anything particular you’d like to eat, or would rather not eat, she’s the one you need to talk to.”
“I don’t have any allergies, you would have already been told if I did.” And Hilary certainly wouldn’t presume to dictate what he would and would not eat for any other reason.
“I know.” Armand laughed as he lay down, reaching to stroke Hilary’s hair for a moment. “But she already knows my preferences, and it won’t do any harm for her to indulge yours as well, so long as they don’t conflict with mine. Put her file back in the folder, and we can continue.”
“I’ll keep the folder then?” Hilary was ready to hand it back if Armand wanted it, but it looked as if it had been prepared for him.
“Yes. Will you be able to prepare lunch and breakfast for yourself?”
“I think so. I wasn’t taught how to cook, but breakfast is just a matter of pouring cereal and milk into a bowl, and lunch would be fruit, or sandwiches, which are just two slices of bread spread with butter and cut meat put between them?”
“Yes, that will work.” Armand frowned for a second then smiled, as he reached for the blue folder. “I don’t know much beyond that myself, if you want to you could always ask Mrs. Dean for lessons, but you don’t have to. This folder contains people with keycards, for emergencies mainly. If they come here while I’m out they’re welcome, but don’t feel obliged to entertain them.”
“But it would be a good idea if I’m not busy?” If they were that close to his master Hilary didn’t want to do anything to make them think he was being rude.
“Yes, and there’s a couple who’ll probably be...reluctant to accept that you’re busy if you aren’t working on one of the two tasks I’ll be setting you for while I’m out.”
“Is this a good time to ask what those tasks will be?” Hilary had inched a bit closer to Armand as he accepted the blue folder, and put it with the green, but not close enough to touch more than his hand, not yet.
“Let me explain this last folder first. And I haven’t quite decided on the specifics of second task yet.” Given how much preparation it was obvious Armand had made that was really surprising - unless it was connected to his questions about Hilary’s education.
“As you wish.” He accepted the purple folder, and opened it to confirm that it contained sheets of paper with photographs clipped to them like the other two did. “What do I need to know about the people you’ve written about in here?”
“They’re mostly family, and fairly close, by blood ties, if not by emotion. But they don’t have keycards. So, if they turn up while I’m not here it’s up to you whether to allow them in, or refuse them on the basis that I’m not here. But you aren’t allowed to let anyone else in the apartment who doesn’t have a file in one of those three folders. Even police or other officials.”
“I’ll have to tell any officials that I’m a pleasure slave if you expect me to refuse them entrance, and I might need to tell other people that too.”
“If they’ve got any manners most people will accept your refusal on the basis that you don’t own the apartment, or pay the rent, but if you have to tell them about your status I’ll understand. Now, the exercise facilities.”
“You won’t have time to show them to me tomorrow morning.” And Hilary didn’t really expect that Armand would want to bother himself with showing his slave around in the evening, after working, especially not when they were only going to be here for another month.
“No, but...I don’t actually think I need to show you to them. The exercise facilities take up the whole of the tenth floor. You’ll need to use your keycard to access them, but that won’t be a problem, since the only limitation on it is that you can’t use it to leave the building, or enter it.”
“Of course.” So that he wouldn’t have any easy temptation to do something as stupid as running away. “And you’re right, I think I’ll be able to find it myself.”
“Good. Now, I want you to learn to read and write while I’m at work. I’m not entirely sure how it would be best for you to learn, and I’ll find that out for you, but for now, take a look at this.” Armand handed over the last of the things he’d brought in with him. It was a sheet of some sort of plastic, with a number of odd shapes on it...some that he vaguely recognised from the covers of the books his tutors had read from, or as parts of the symbols that came after the numbers on his weights.
“This is a printed alphabet, showing the upper and lower case letters as pairs.” Armand pointed to the first symbol, a triangle with the base lifted. “This is an upper case A. That’s what we use to signify the letter A at the beginning of a sentence or to start the name of a person or a place.” Hilary nodded, that made sense to him, and Armand moved on to the next symbol, a bit like circle with a line joined to the right hand side. “This is a lower case A, it’s used for most of a sentence, except for the two cases where an uppercase letter is used.”
“I think I understand. So this next pair of symbols,” Hilary point to these himself, one a line with two near semi-circles curving out from it to the right, and the other a line with a near full circle joined to it at the bottom. “are an upper and lower case B, with the upper case coming first?”
“Yes.” Armand sounded pleased by the question. “The full alphabet is written out here, in the order you memorised. I want you to spend half an hour a day copying out this alphabet, so that you get used to it, and learn how to form the letters properly. You don’t have to always do it in order, but spend a solid half an hour on it every day.”
“Yes Armand.” After lunch would probably be the best time...although Hilary wasn’t sure what else he could do while his master was at work, besides exercise and practise writing the alphabet. “I can do that in your office?”
“Yes, I’ll set out a pen and pencil for you, along with some lined paper. Now, I think we’ve discussed everything you need to know for tomorrow, unless you’ve got any further questions?”
This wasn’t the time to ask about the second task Armand had for him, not if he hadn’t quite decided on the details, and Hilary swiftly decided against asking about the two doors Armand hadn’t identified yet. Instead he put the alphabet aside and pressed himself up against his master, nuzzling into his shoulder.
“No, I don’t.” He kept his voice low and as seductive as he could manage as he stroked Armand’s upper arms through his shirt, until his master took hold of him by the shoulders and pushed him away, just a little.
“No, I wasn’t hinting that I wanted to have sex with you. I want to leave that until we can take our time about it, maybe tomorrow evening, or during the weekend.” A firm voice, and a refusal, he didn’t dare look at Armand’s face, for fear of seeing the anger in his eyes.
“Y-yes Master. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to presume...” How could he have been so arrogant? “Please forgive this unworthy slave.” It was his master’s right to decide when and how sex happened, not his, and he knew better than to try take control like that. He couldn’t move to an appropriately subservient position, not while his master held him like this, so he just kept on babbling apologies. “I beg your pardon for my insolence, truly I do.” The time since Master Armand had collected him had been so wonderful, with his owner actually encouraging him to make decisions, and now he’d gone and screwed up on his first day?
“Hey!” The sharpness of his master’s voice riveted Hilary’s attention, and forced him into silence. “I’m not angry at you. I appreciate it that you wanted to show that you’re willing, I just have different plans. But now I want you to lie down and go to sleep, rest so that you don’t embarrass me in front of my Family by looking like I don’t take care of you.” The prospect of embarrassing his master when Master Armand introduced him to his Family was even more terrifying, and Hilary realised he was shaking almost convulsively, no matter how hard he tried to stop it and relax as his master wished.
“Oh Chaos! You’re not going to be able to relax now, are you?”
“N-no Master, not really.” Not when he felt himself flinching from the disgust in Master Armand’s voice, even though intellectually he knew it wasn’t directed at him.
“Hush, it’s okay. Will it help enough if I left you to sleep alone, or do you need something else to relax you?” Master Armand’s concern only heightened Hilary’s sense of failure, but he wasn’t going to compound that failure by not answering a question.
“I...need to please you, Master.”
“We can work with that.” Armand sat up, unfastening his trousers and reaching in to pull his cock out through his fly. “Show me how well you learned to use your mouth then.”
“Yes Master.” The discipline of approaching his master’s cock right, and of pleasing him, working out just what made him feel good, brought a measure of calm to Hilary, even if he could taste traces of piss at first it wasn’t much and it was soon gone, replaced by that salty musk, and then the taste of semen as Armand climaxed in his mouth.
“Good, you did well.” His master was stroking his hair, speaking soothingly, and this time Hilary was able to relax and co-operate as Master Armand tucked him into bed alone and kissed his cheek. “Just rest for now.”
Hadn’t Master Armand said something about needing a nap himself? But after how close he’d come to his master’s anger Hilary couldn’t muster up the courage to say anything as he went to close the curtains then walked out the door, choosing instead to at least rest even if he couldn’t sleep.
