Marketplace

by Laura Antoniou

  “Tell me, Claudia, did it ever occur to you to ask for more duties or responsibilities?“

  Claudia shook her head. “No, ma’am. I did what my Mistress told me to do.”

  Alexandra smiled at that. “Oh really? That’s not exactly true, is it?” She stepped in closer and ran one light, gentle finger along Claudia’s shoulder. It produced a shudder, a nice, rippling response. “You did have trouble obeying her whenever she tried to take you out of these limited areas, didn’t you? For example, when she wanted to see you play with yourself?”

  “Oh!” Claudia lowered her head again, so fast her hair flew around her head. “Mistress... told you?”

  “Yes, of course she told me,” Alexandra replied. “Pick up your chin, I don’t like talking to the top of your head.” Claudia did so, her cheeks red with humiliation.

  Alexandra walked back to the table and pulled a sheet of paper from the folder, scanned it and read from it. “You couldn’t perform when she commanded you to, instead you burst into tears. On a later occasion, when she honored you by taking you to bed, you did the same thing when she gave you a dildo and told you to use it on yourself.” Alexandra looked up for a moment. “Did you end up staying with her that night, or did she send you away?”

  “I stayed, ma’am,” Claudia whispered.

  “Spoiled rotten,” Alexandra muttered again. “In fact, any time your Mistress decided that you should be more interesting sexually, you rebelled, didn’t you? You used your tears and your whimpering and your charm to manipulate your Mistress into letting you dig yourself this rut of a role, where you expected to stay for as long as you continued to like it.”

  “No!” Claudia gasped as the word escaped her lips. “I mean, please, ma’am, it wasn’t like that. I loved... I love my Mistress! But some things are so very hard for me!” Tears had started welling up in her eyes.

  “That’s not going to work here,” Alexandra commented, indicating the tears. “Grendel loves it when slaves cry, and it doesn’t affect me in the slightest. Not from you or from Robert.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Stop it. Your first charge is to stop crying every time something unpleasant happens. Learn to express your emotions with your posture, your attitude, and your mouth. For the rest of the week, whenever you cry, you will be given additional work to do.” Alexandra beckoned and Claudia came to her, frantically blinking away tears.

  Alexandra ran her finger along Claudia’s body again, this time over her throat and along her arm. Her skin was soft, and a little pale. “You’ll also start spending some time in my solarium. I’ll tell Chris to put some sunblock on your shelf tomorrow. You’ll find a work out regimen prepared for you every day at... four o’clock. Don’t make it necessary for me to watch you.”

  Claudia said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  The finger continued its journey. Alexandra traced a line from Claudia’s hip to one small breast, circling the erect nipple and then gently pinching it. That elicited a slight moan from the girl, and Alexandra smiled gently. Slowly running her finger down Claudia’s belly, she was not surprised to find that the shivering little maid was hot and very wet between her thighs.

  Claudia gasped slightly and arched her back a little bit. She was blushing again, how sweet. Alexandra flicked her finger across Claudia’s swollen clitoris and then eased two fingers between the folds of her damp lips. When she brought them out, they glistened.

  “Clean me off,” Alexandra said, holding them up. Claudia licked at them with tiny cat-like strokes, tasting herself and her excitement, and continued to lick until Alexandra took her hand away. Her body shifted slightly, her hips moving just a little closer. But her hands remained at her sides, where they were during the entire interview. Still, every inch of her begged to be drawn into an embrace.

  Alexandra stepped away suddenly, leaving Claudia to sway slightly on the balls of her feet. “Get dressed. That will be all for now,” Alexandra said. “After lunch, Chris will assign you some duties. You may go directly to the kitchen and see if Cook needs any help.” She watched the girl pull the dress over her head and slip her feet back into the shoes. Claudia gave a polite nod before exiting the room, but her face was still flushed with erotic expectations.

  Altogether, it was not an unpromising interview. Despite the fraidycat exterior, there was some strength and discipline in the girl. It took practice and dedication to create art from a form of service, and it took some strong resolve to take regular canings. And she did have a kind of enticing sensuality, that little pout in her lips and her delicious reaction to being humiliated. It was just a little difficult imagining what to make of her after one interview. I need to see her working, really working, Alexandra thought, and then see what kind of a sexual plaything she could be. That’s something to look forward to...

  But she’s the best of the four, Alexandra reminded herself. And as promising as she might be, she was still far from Marketplace material.

  * * * *

  Sharon was starving by lunchtime. Not that she was ever a big eater (keeping slim and fit was a very large part of her life up to now), but being denied breakfast made food her predominant thought while waiting in the library. All alone for hours! She had found the binder after about twenty minutes of looking around, flipped through it and scanning the pages of lists. There were literally hundreds of little details in there, and some of them only applied to types of slaves and some of them only applied to certain situations, and some of them were just so silly that she giggled out loud. Reading through them wasn’t even a turn-on, although some of them sounded hot. She got bored and started examining the room, spinning a large globe around, looking in the drawers of the two desks (nothing interesting), and then actually looking at the books. The topics of most of them didn’t meet with her standards of ‘interesting’. And once again, as in Grendel’s office, there weren’t any books about bondage and SM and slaves and masters.

  Her stomach growled through the rest of the morning. By the time Chris came to summon her at 12:45, she was ready to pull her hair out with boredom and hunger.

  The four applicants met in the narrow servants’ dining room at one o’clock, after washing up. Robert and Claudia brought in a meal of sandwiches and mounds of raw vegetables and fresh fruit. They had ice-water to drink. They didn’t speak to each other when they sat down, each concentrating on the food. There were brief glances exchanged, and tension was high, but no one spoke.

  “After lunch, you will have one hour of free time,” Chris announced from the doorway. They all turned to him. “Free, of course, is a relative term. You may spend it resting in your dorm in silence, reading in the library, or you may take a walk with me around the grounds. After that, Robert will see Mistress Alexandra in the solarium, Brian will report to Ms. Rachel for his duties, Claudia will report to me for hers, and Sharon will return to her studies.” He paused and looked them over. “At 4:15 this afternoon, Sharon and Brian will report to me in the paddock for a lesson in trotting. Your evening schedules will be given to you at dinner time. You may speak to each other this week while you eat, but keep in mind that you only have a half hour for meals. Any questions?”

  Sharon nodded, swallowing a bit of sandwich. “When do I get interviewed?”

  “At Mr. Elliot’s pleasure, Sharon. Kindly address some of your studies to section three of the manual, on patience and the control of curiosity.” He looked back at the others. “Any more questions? No? Then I will see you in one half of an hour.” He left, closing the door behind him.

  “Ooh, I hate him,” Sharon said after he left. She drank deeply from her water glass. “I don’t believe it. I need a fucking cup of coffee. How do we get coffee around here?”

  “You don’t,” Robert answered. “I spent the morning with the cook. She’s a real nice lady.” He picked up a large pear and put it on his plate. “She told me that we get no coffee, no soda, no sugary things, nothing that’s unhealthy or fancy.”

&n
bsp; “I am going to die without coffee,” Brian moaned. “That was the hardest thing today, facing that interview without a cup of coffee in me.” He sighed and looked at the table. “And all this rabbit food is gonna kill me. I am dying for a cheeseburger deluxe already.”

  “What about diet soda?” Sharon asked. Robert shook his head. “You mean, this is it? Water?” Her voice scaled up sharply.

  “W-well, in the morning, we get fruit juice,” he stammered out. He lowered his head and then fidgeted nervously. “A-and they can give us, um, little portions of forbidden foods as rewards, and we can have herbal tea at night and, um, stuff like sports drinks when we’re in the gym.” He said all of that in a rush and then took a long drink from his glass. God, it was difficult dealing with all of this! And to have a fellow slave looking at him in such a... dominant way, demanding answers from him, oh it was just not to be borne! And with his interview coming up so soon!

  Sharon stared at him for a moment as he tried to concentrate on his plate. “You know, you really are a big sissy, aren’t you?”

  “Sharon!” Claudia cried out in horror. “Be nice!”

  “No, it’s true,” Robert sniffed. “I am a big sissy. I’m sorry.” He pushed his plate away and buried his face in his arms. The bulk of his shoulders shook as he sobbed loud, falsetto tears.

  “This is gonna be a long week,” Brian said out loud. He took a carrot stick and munched, trying to figure out what had happened during his own interview. It was easy to tune out the tirade that Sharon was starting.

  Grendel had asked him a lot of questions about things he had done before. Where he worked, what sports he played, which bars he went to. Brian answered all the questions truthfully, quickly, and with nice snappy “Sirs” punctuating his speech. But as the interview went on, he realized that he was being asked to talk more and more about what he liked to do and what he wanted out of life, and he began to wonder if he was being led into a trap. Brian tried to slip in some comments about how much he wanted to be owned and have decisions made for him, but Grendel casually brushed these answers off and always returned to what Brian enjoyed, what Brian did, what Brian ate.

  It was very strange.

  And then the interview changed. Grendel ordered him to strip and show himself, and savagely criticized his body and mannerisms. Called him a soft, lazy dilettante with no real direction in life and no idea how to commit to anything. Brian had panicked and tried every trick he knew to mollify an angry master, but Grendel laughed at him and called him on every one. Shit, Brian thought, remembering. That guy really knows his stuff. Even Paul wasn’t as tough as Grendel. By one point, Brian was begging to do anything to prove his sincerity, suck cock, lick boots, kiss ass, drink piss, anything.

  And Grendel had merely sighed and told him to get dressed and get out. It was lunchtime.

  Did I pass or fail? Brian mused. And what do I have to do to get on around here? I have to figure it out soon, or I’ll never have a chance like this again.

  At least, he thought, watching Sharon browbeat poor Robert, I have a much better chance than she does. Hey, maybe we should keep her in control, so she can be my bad example! Compared to her, I’m Wonderslave. He snickered.

  “And what are you laughing at, faggot?” She turned on him with a snarl.

  “Oooohhh!” Brian threw his hands up in mock horror. “The bitch called me a bad word! I’m shattered! I’m dismayed!” He turned serious and lowered his voice. “And I am already thoroughly sick of your attitude, Miss Thing. You just don’t get it, do you? We’re here to be trained to be slaves, OK, honey? If you don’t like it, just tell them and get your ass back to Scarsdale or Teaneck, or wherever the hell you came from.” He glanced up at the clock and took a handful of grapes and began popping them in his mouth.

  “Stop it! Just stop it!” Claudia cried out. Her hands were clenched in anxiety. She had barely eaten anything. The sandwiches tasted like sawdust in her mouth. She nibbled at a piece of an apple, but set it aside soon after Sharon really got into her litany of outrage and complaints. All of this anger and spite made her lose her appetite.

  By the time Chris came back, there was an aura of gratitude from at least three people at the table. Rachel cleared the table and Chris asked them where they had decided to spend their free time.

  Robert sniffed and said, “The library, please.”

  Claudia thought. “I’d like to rest for a while,” she admitted softly.

  “Me too,” Sharon said. Claudia looked horrified at the prospect, and raised her hand. Brian looked at the three of them and then at Chris.

  “I think I’ll take that walk,” he said lightly. Chris nodded and was about to dismiss them, but he noticed Claudia’s timorously raised hand.

  “Yes, Claudia?”

  “May I change my mind? I would like to go to the library, too.”

  Chris nodded. “Fine then. Everyone to your place. Sharon, you may not leave the room or make any noise while you rest. Robert and Claudia, follow the standards of behavior you’ve been given and do your reading far away from each other. Brian, you may go to the storage room on the third floor next to the dorm and get your boots. Meet me out by the stable in five minutes. When the hour is over, you will proceed to your next task or appointment, and you will be punctual.”

  * * * *

  Robert carefully folded his trousers as he was instructed and placed them on the floor next to a chair. When he drew himself back up, he was even more conscious of the beginning of stubble all over his body. He kept his eyes down, the better to avoid looking at Mistress Alexandra, who stood to receive him in a long white skirt and a sensuously light, rose colored silk blouse. She was holding what looked like a short brown riding crop.

  His nasty thing was already hard, despite his efforts not to look.

  Alexandra raised his chin with one finger. He was much taller than she. Naked in the daylight, shorn of all its hair, his body was formidable. His shoulders and upper arms were broad and muscular, his back strong and his chest deep. He was in good shape, his stomach flat. And Ali had not lied. His cock was quite a thing of beauty.

  It was thick, and even flaccid it looked like a meaty sex machine. Now, tumescent and stirring, it hinted at a respectable length when it reached its full potential. Without a tangle of curly dark hair to distract from its size, it looked fat and heavy.

  Alex tapped it with her crop, very lightly.

  Robert moaned and whimpered. His cock grew more, and a deep blush began to rise in his neck and face.

  “You have a very nice body, Robert,” Alexandra said. “Turn for me and show me what you look like.”

  Robert closed his eyes and began to awkwardly pivot, automatically rising on his toes.

  “No, not like that! Turn slowly and carefully. I want to see you do it proudly, gracefully. Try again.”

  He did, but his feet seemed to get in his way and he almost tripped over himself. He caught himself neatly and regained his balance, but didn’t miss the look of disappointment that crossed Alexandra’s face. Tears formed in his eyes, and he saw that disappointment turned rapidly into what he thought was disgust. He immediately started bawling, dropped to the floor and tried to kiss her feet.

  What did I do to deserve this? Alex thought as she walked away. She put the crop down and started talking. “First of all, you are going to stop this behavior, Robert...”

  Didn’t she give this lecture already? She hoped that Grendel was having a better time with his applicants. So far, it looked like she was going to spend all her time with a couple of crybabies who weren’t of any use in bed. She paused in her instructions to him and studied his bent form.

  “Kneel up, Robert. And get your cock in your hand,” she announced suddenly.

  Robert drew himself up and grabbed hold of his cock, grateful for the opportunity to hide it from view. His face was red from his blubbering and from keeping it so low to the floor.

  “Show me how you jerk off,” Alexandra commanded. “Take hol
d of it and work it for me.” She leaned one elbow against a drawing table and waved a finger at him. “Go ahead, get it really big and hard. Show me how huge it gets. You can spit in your hand if you want to.”

  Robert gasped in horror. Show it off? He grasped it tightly, feeling the jolt of pleasure shoot through him, and closed his eyes. Carefully, he tugged at his cock, drawing it down and away from his body in a motion he liked. It was hot in his hand. Never, never had he been permitted to touch himself like this in the presence of a mistress.

  “That’s it, work it. A lot of mistresses like a well hung slave around, and you might be sold to a house where you need to be able to get it up on a moment’s notice.” She watched his efforts with interest. Oh yes, he had a real machine between his legs. No wonder Ali was horrified at the thought of lopping it off.

  Robert squeezed his nasty thing hard again and began to move his fist faster and faster along the shaft. The idea that a mistress would like it, would want him because he had it, was intoxicating. An involuntary groan escaped his lips, and he opened his eyes to make sure Mistress Alexandra wasn’t displeased.

  On the contrary, she looked very attentive. Trying to please, he worked faster and harder, and began to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. He looked up, pleading with his eyes. Alexandra seemed unaware of his condition, or perhaps uncaring. He kept the tempo up but loosened his hand a little. His breaths were coming in gasps now, his chest rising and falling in a double-time rhythm. He tried to catch her eyes again, failed, and began to whimper.