A Superior Slave (Ganymede Quartet Book 0.5)

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Digital ISBN: 978-1626227248

Cover art by Ulvar

littleulvar.deviantart.com

Cover design by D. Glass

Martin woke with a sudden start, certain he’d overslept and would be in trouble, but then he remembered what day it was and relaxed back down into the bed, nestled between Charlie and Georgie.

It was Tuesday, the day before the auction. Today they would be allowed to sleep in a little. No lessons, no chores. Today they would be indulged.

They’d had a late night. Their farewell party had been a bittersweet affair, marked by volatile emotions. Every one of them was being separated from a lover or lifelong friend, and it was hard to accept these breaks.

Both the boys leaving and the boys being left behind had been determined to say proper goodbyes. The farewell was for the companion slaves only, but the entire cohort, all the sixteens, had come together to reminisce and comfort one another. It was difficult to make himself believe that he’d really never see these boys again when they were so familiar to him, and such constant presences in his landscape. Martin had made it a point to spend time with a great many boys over the course of the evening, but he’d ended up where he liked to be best.

His jerk awake had disturbed the others, and Georgie made a questioning sound as he stretched and yawned.

“Good morning, Martin.” Georgie drew Martin close and kissed his forehead. “How are
you
feeling today?”

Martin laid his head on Georgie’s chest and gave a soft laugh. He idly traced the edge of Georgie’s tattoo with his finger. It was the same as his tattoo except for the number, a chalice wreathed in laurels done in Ganymede blue and inked high on the chest, just below the knobs of the collarbones. They all bore this same tattoo; it meant they were the property and product of House Ganymede. “I’m a little sore, but I don’t really mind.”

Noah, on Georgie’s other side, raised his handsome head and scowled at Martin. “Keep your voice down! Some of us are still sleeping!”

Georgie patted him placatingly. “Be sweet, Noah. It’s our last day.”

Charlie wrapped his arms around Martin’s ribs and pressed himself against Martin’s back. He yawned with a loud groan, his jaw popping. Stuart sat up and leaned over Charlie to kiss Martin’s cheek, and Martin caught him with a hand around the back of his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. He let Stuart go and pushed himself up to sitting, then crawled to the end of the bed and swung his legs down to the floor.

“Are you getting up already?” Charlie asked.

“I’m hungry,” Martin said. “I want to eat. Besides, we’ve already slept an hour longer than usual.” It was nearly 6 o’clock, and they’d all been getting up at 5 o’clock every day for the last decade, ever since they were old enough for chores. He stood on wobbly legs, hips loose and ass tender. He really
didn’t
mind; he liked feeling as though he’d been put through his paces.

“We could have sex really quickly before we eat,” Charlie suggested hopefully.

Martin shook his head, collecting clothing from the dresser they shared. He didn’t want to wear himself out before the auction. “Have it without me. I had plenty last night.” He found his shoes in the heap of discarded footwear on the floor beside the bed and slipped his feet into them. They were new, flimsy and thin, issued specifically for the auction. The sturdy boots they’d all worn before would be handed down to boys who were staying on the farm. Naked but for shoes, Martin took trousers, braces, shirt and undergarments with him as he left the room.

There was only one other boy in the showers, and Martin smiled and nodded at Otto as he took a clean towel from the pile by the door. He made his way to the center of the row of shower nozzles, to a place across from a high window where the light was especially good. He hung his towel and clothes on a hook opposite the shower head and kicked off his shoes. He had to hunt a bit before he found a bar of soap he liked, one scented with vetiver, which he much preferred over the lavender soap they had in profusion. At last, he stood under the water wetting his hair and trying to calm himself, but he was too tense, too excited. This was the last time he’d wash in this room, and he never would have imagined he could be sentimental about the dormitory showers, but he found himself teary-eyed as he looked at the old, cracked tiles, and was grateful for the water’s camouflage.

Philip and Bradley came in laughing and shoving each other and they called hellos to Martin as they joined Otto under the spray. They were all Standard boys, while Martin was Superior, and they were accordingly friendly but deferential toward him. Outside of training exercises, the Superiors didn’t have much to do with the Standards. The Choice boys were a different story; Superiors and Choice were close.

Martin washed very thoroughly, lathering away all traces of sex and enjoying the soothing heat of the water. Other companions began to file in, taking their places under the shower heads in singles and pairs. It was much less chaotic than a usual morning, but that was because all the other, younger companions-in-training were already at their tasks and lessons. It was only the companions who were leaving for the city today who were showering at this late hour.

Every other boy on the farm—the future butlers, footmen, coachmen and all the rest—would have been up at 5 o’clock, and showered, fed and at work by 6 o’clock. Most of these others would stay at the farm until they were eighteens or even older; it was only the companions who were sold as sixteens so that they might grow up in tandem with their young masters and develop a beneficial closeness. Companions were meant to be mature boys because they were given great responsibilities at a young age, but today Martin did not feel particularly adult. He felt giddy and breathless with anticipation.

He was eager to take on responsibility, to put into practice all he had studied and trained for. He was prepared to serve as a valet, and while he and his master were still in school, that would constitute the bulk of his work. While they were young and his master was as yet unmarried, he’d serve him with his body so that he might have a healthy outlet for his sexual impulses; the use of a companion was preferable to self-pollution or involvement with low-class women. Ideally, they’d be close, and if he was fortunate, his master might confide in him, trust him. When they were adults, he’d serve as his master’s secretary and assist him in the operation of his business. He’d be in charge of supervising the household’s slaves, and he’d manage his master’s accounts. The role was one of an indispensable assistant, a most personal luxury. The men who could afford to buy and keep a companion were society’s elite, and companions were accordingly at the top of the slave hierarchy. Martin had worked hard to end up in this rarefied position and now he anticipated reaping his reward.

Leo came in with Sandy and they joined Martin, crowding close to stand under the water. Leo was Superior, like Martin, but Sandy was only Choice. Leo and Sandy did everything together, were close and always had been, and Martin worried a little about how they would adjust to being separated. They hugged Martin, Leo at his front and Sandy at his back, rubbing his cheek between Martin’s shoulder blades.

“Will you miss us?” Leo asked. “We’ll miss you.”

“Of course I’ll miss you. We’ve been friends our whole lives.”

“I always liked fucking you so much,” Leo told him.

“We both did,” Sandy said. “We always had such fun together.”

Martin wanted to ask if they were going to be all right, being separated tomorrow, but he was afraid to hear the answer. All he said was, “I’m glad we all have so many good memories to take with us.”

Memories were all they’d take with them. Like all the other companion slaves, Martin had been required to rid himself of his few possessions, whether by giving them away or burning them, and he’d thrown it all on the fire with an extravagant gesture, a sweep of his arm, and had watched his love letters and talismans catch spark. He was clean now, and ready, truly ready, for a fresh start with a master of his own.

Martin stepped out of the water and dried off and dressed as he watched Sandy go to his knees before Leo and take him into his mouth. He called a goodbye as he turned to leave, and Leo gave him a wave.

At breakfast, Martin ate second helpings of everything while boys were still straggling into the mess hall. Georgie and Noah came and sat with him, though Noah clearly would have preferred to have Georgie to himself. Charlie and Stuart came in late, having opted to have sex first. Leo and Sandy came in and sat at a table apart from the rest, and it looked as if Sandy might be crying, so they all kept an uneasy distance.

Martin drank another cup of coffee while his friends took their seats around him and ate pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon. With graceful gestures, Georgie tucked his long dark hair behind his ears as he bent over his plate, and as he admired his attractive friend, Martin recognized how much he would miss seeing his fellow companions every day. He would miss their fine features, their sleek bodies, their beautiful long hair. Chances are, the boy who would be his master would be an utterly ordinary fellow, albeit a rich one. Martin only hoped the boy wouldn’t be terribly ugly.

Georgie and Charlie, both dark and lithe and handsome, were just Martin’s type, though for reasons not entirely clear to himself he’d always favored Georgie. If Martin were allowed to choose his own master, a boy with dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin would be ideal. Blond, blue-eyed Stuart was certainly handsome, and Martin had always enjoyed their intimacy, but Martin didn’t want a blond master. Noah had glimmering copper hair and porcelain skin, but there was a great deal of jealousy between them, and Martin found Noah’s personality so odious that he couldn’t find him attractive at all. Still, a master with Noah’s coloring wouldn’t be terrible, provided his character was more admirable. But really, ideally, Martin’s master would be dark. He thought he would rather have a homely dark boy than a handsome blond.