The Slave (48 page)

“
You told them about the research
thing,” she said quietly. “That was very sweet of you.”

Robin blushed. “They wanted to give you a
meaningful gift,” she answered. “I had very little to do with
it.”

“
You know, they still want to give me
stuff,” Monica stretched out and relaxed. “They want me to tell
them what ‘thing’ I want tomorrow, before I leave. What do you
think I should ask for? Half the kingdom? The prince’s hand in
marriage?”

Robin giggled. “The BMW coach-and-four?
Freedom for your people?”

“
Hm, good ones. But there’s no place
in DC I can park a damn coach, and my people seem to be quite
capable of getting their own damn selves free without any help from
me.” She sighed and turned over onto her side. “Actually, I figured
out what to ask for when Eric swore that I could have anything I
wanted except for that piece of graffiti and that illuminated butt
fucking you found him.”

Both women giggled. Robin slid down onto her
pallet. Monica turning onto her side was a prelude to sleep. She
thought of asking what Monica was going to ask for, but shrugged it
off and settled comfortably against the bed.

I’ll find out
tomorrow
,
she thought.

Monica was brief and to the point. “I want
Robin.”

Eric’s mouth dropped open. Jimmy
grinned.

“
That’s what you get for being vague,”
he drawled. “Tell her to ask for anything, and she takes you
seriously. I knew we should have qualified that offer.”

Robin, who was helping Muscledog clear away
the breakfast dishes, almost dropped her handful. Luckily, he was
there to steady her. She did gasp, though, and colored deeply when
it was clear that everyone heard her. Burning with curiosity,
humiliation and excitement, she had to be pulled into the kitchen.
She could still hear the incredulous reactions of her owners, dimly
now, as Raul stepped in to tap her on the top of the head and stare
down into her eyes.

“
It doesn’t concern you,” he lectured
firmly. He took the dishes from her, and directed Muscledog to keep
working.

“
But it does!” she answered in a
whisper.

“
No it doesn’t,” he cautioned her. “When it
does, you’ll be informed. Now get your ass upstairs and stay in
your work room until you’re sent for. And don’t try to stall!” He
gave her a rough push, and she scurried. Passing through the dining
room and heading towards the hall and the stairs, she felt the eyes
of the two men and one woman upon her, silent for every step she
took through the room. As soon as she mounted the stairs, she could
hear them resume.

“
I assume you would want us to fulfill
the contract, too? I mean, she only signed up, what―a month ago?
Come on, Monica, have a heart. You got us in a vulnerable moment,
and you’re taking advantage of it.” That was still
Jimmy.

Robin’s throat tightened. She moved
slowly, carefully placing her foot lightly on each step, fully
aware of her disobedience.

“
Listen, if it’s that much of an
imposition, I withdraw the request,” Monica said lightly. Robin
felt an awful weight settle in her chest, and without warning,
tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She forced her legs to
move, even though she could hear Eric saying something else,
something about how valuable she was. By the time she reached the
room she called her office and sank down into her chair, she was
crying hot and terrible tears.

I didn’t realize how unhappy I
was
, she
thought, laying her head down on her folded arms.
Until now. Until I
thought that I could go with Monica. Oh, God, how did I get into
this? Am I in love with her? Do I hate it here that
much?

I don’t care how valuable I
am
, she
cursed, sniffing and trying to control the sobs that were shaking
their way through her body.
I don’t care how much I cost or how long my
contract is for! I don’t care about honor or service or anything! I
just want to be with someone who loves me!

And that one clear thought hurt more than
any of the others. With a curse, she stood up and threw herself out
the door and down the hall to the small bathroom that the slaves
shared. There, with the door shut and cold water running from the
tap into the sink, she slammed her fists down against the tiles and
rocked back and forth, a torrent of tears flowing through strangled
cries and choked coughs.

How pathetic
, she railed at herself.
Spend your whole
fucking life wanting something spectacular and special, give up
everything every normal person wants and gets, and then come down
to the simple answer that all you want is someone to love. What a
fucking mess!
She pulled a white towel from the rack and thrust it under
the cold water and applied it to her face and her pounding
forehead.

All this time, all this
energy
―and I
could have stayed with Maria. Moved in with her, and had a lover
and a girlfriend who tied me up and played SM games with me
whenever I wanted. And I wouldn’t have to sleep with people I
didn’t know, or wonder if she was going to get pissed and beat the
shit out of me, and I could work and keep my own money and buy
whatever I wanted and wear what I liked, and... and....

“
I’m such a whiner,”
Robin said out loud. She looked up into the mirror, at her flushed
face and reddened eyes, and lowered her head quickly.
I didn’t get here
by settling for less. I knew that I wasn’t going to end up in a
perfect situation. I need to get a grip on things here. I’m an
adult.

Tears still gathered and spilled down her
nose. Desperately, she dug into the medicine cabinet and swallowed
three aspirins, and drank some more cold water. Deep breathing, and
more chilling touches with her wet towel, and slowly they came
under control. She combed her hair out and arranged it properly,
and hung the towel to dry, moving carefully and concentrating on
what she was doing.

I have to be
patient
, she
reminded herself
. I’m not even thirty yet. This is only my first owner.
Next time, I won’t re-up, and Chris will find me a new owner. Or
I’ll take my money and give it all up. But this is what I have now.
I’m not going to be the one who fucks it up.

Back in her office, she turned her computer
on, and sorted through her faxes. There was work to be done. And
she got lost in it for about an hour, and then the intercom beeped
on her phone.

“
Yes, sir?” she answered.

“
Pick up on line two, Robin.” It was
Jimmy’s voice. She obediently switched lines. It was probably one
of his parents; they always asked to speak to her when they
called.

“
Hello?”

“
Robin.” Chris’s voice hit her right
in the sternum, and she could feel the carefully corralled torrent
of emotions swell against her new barrier.

Ohmigod
, she thought. A wave of dizziness
passed, and she clamped one hand onto the edge of her desk.
“Chris?”

“
Your owners would like me to
negotiate a contract change with you,” he said. She could hear
something in his voice that sounded vaguely like amusement. She
could see his smile, tight and ironic. “They would like to transfer
your accommodations, but retain your services.”

“
Wha-what?”

“
It’s not entirely unheard of, but an
interesting situation. In effect, you would be physically present
in someone else’s home, but your professional services, in this
case, your art brokering skills, would still be available for them.
As your trainer, I must caution you that your workload will, in
effect, double.” He paused. “But I get the impression that you
might not mind this.”

Robin scratched the surface of her desk. She
was staring ahead of her, and her heart was pounding so hard that
it seemed to echo in the telephone receiver.

“
Why...” She swallowed and cleared her
throat. “Why do you have to ask me? Don’t they have the right to,
um, give me away?”

“
Your contract establishes them as
responsible for your living expenses and requires them to maintain
a proper environment for you, in part exchange for your services.
Now, they are requesting that someone else be responsible for
boarding and keeping you, while you still serve their purposes.
They are not signing over your contract intact, but requesting a
substantial alteration. Do you need time to consider
this?”

Robin closed her eyes. “No. No, sir, I
don’t. I accept whatever changes are necessary.”

“
What a surprise. Well, enjoy
Washington, my dear. I will speak to you next year, on your
anniversary.”

“
Chris!” Robin clutched the phone.
Words long unsaid wound themselves up, and she almost cried again.
“Thank you.”

“
You are welcome, Robin. It has always
been interesting dealing with you. Now pass me on back to your
various owners and we’ll get you settled.”

She hit the intercom button and connected
him back with Jimmy’s line, and sat still, feeling shivers run
their way through her. Her head still pounded, and her eyes were
tight and aching. Shivers turned into full tremors of her flesh,
and she hugged herself and stared at the wall for several long
minutes, unable to either break or bear the silence. It all seemed
unreal. Too fast. Too impossible to believe.

But when Monica turned up in the doorway,
dangling a ring that held one key on her index finger, her mouth
turned up into a wry and satisfied grin, Robin couldn’t help but
throw herself across the room, collapsing at the woman’s feet and
clasping her around her knees. Monica laughed, and pulled Robin’s
head into her, cradling it and stroking it, and finally pulling
Robin up to kiss her.

“
I guess you’re coming home with me,
kiddo,” Monica said, pulling Robin’s head back. They were both
breathing a little hard, and Monica was barely controlling a broad
grin. “And I guess you don’t mind.”

“
Just a warning,” Monica had said, as
preparations were made for the transfer of Eric and Jimmy’s only
female slave. “It’s not going to be like you’re used
to!”

It was true. From an airy and sunny
southwestern style house with a pool and a Jacuzzi, where the
slaves had a room with a bath and Robin had her own office to work
in, she was now moving into a narrow and shaded townhouse not far
from Dupont Circle. It did boast three bedrooms, and Monica turned
the small guest bedroom over to Robin both for living quarters and
a working space. Her computer, fax and files were shipped from
California, and a phone line hooked up, just so that she could
continue being her masters’ broker.

It had been the best solution they could
come up with. After Monica had so casually given up, Jimmy and Eric
exchanged guilty looks and tried to talk her into some ‘thing’
else. Surely she could take some other gift from them? But the
friendlier she was and the more she objected to disturbing them,
the more guilty they felt.

“
Listen,” she confided to Robin, “from
the trouble I saved them, they could buy a twin for Muscledog and
have enough left for a year’s supply of Alpo.”

It was Eric who suggested that the main
reason why they couldn’t easily part with Robin was that they had
truly counted on her work for the next two years. And when he and
Jimmy met eyes and looked back at Monica, she could see their
brains churning away at an honorable compromise. It might be hell
on the person in question, but then....

“
What are slaves for, anyway?” Jimmy
had asked. “Let’s call that sonuvabitch trainer of hers and get him
to agree to the changes.”

And it was done. And in two days, Robin bid
tearful farewells to her fellow slaves, and went back home with
Monica. Home.

To narrow, tree-lined streets that curved
and circled, to Ethiopian restaurants and tiny bookstores and life
inside a major city again. The first thing that Monica did was
establish quick ground rules.

“
Don’t call me ma’am anymore.” She
grimaced and then grinned. “It makes me feel old. Just plain Monica
will do, or Mo, if you like that.”

Robin grinned back, fingering the new chain
and lock around her throat. “If I like it?”

“
Well, look. I’m one of those poor
kinds of masters that can’t afford formal behavior. Hell, I can’t
even afford you. In fact, I think that I’m so poor that I might
have to bring you to bed just to keep warm in the winter. This is
not sunny LaLaLand anymore... It’s the cold, harsh world of
politics and big business.” Monica’s dark eyes flashed when she
teased, and they were dancing when she said these things. “In fact,
I think you’ll be spending a lot of time in my bedroom. It’s been a
neglected part of my life.” When Robin blushed and dropped her
eyes, Monica laughed out loud and hugged her. “That’s what I love
about you, darlin’. You’re so damn easy to embarrass!”

Other rules―basically, Monica traveled. A
lot. And her house (and two cats) would now be Robin’s
responsibility. Robin would also assist the young man who handled
most of Monica’s paperwork and correspondence. She would be doing a
lot of domestic chores, a great deal of packing and unpacking, and
do things like make the house warm and welcoming for Monica when
she came back from her trips.