Trip to Town

Master snaps his fingers and his slave rises to his feet, he lifts his chin and turns his head to the left, wrists extended at shoulder height, making access to the locks on his slave chains readily available to his Master. Master releases the locks on the manacles and the chains fall forming a mound at the boy’s feet.

While he gathers up the chains and places them on the workbench, Master rummages through his large bag and tosses a tunic with a length of binding rope to his boy.” Put this on boy, we have a lot to get done today.” He says. The boy slips his arms into the tunic as it falls to just below his crotch.

Master then hands the boy an empty backpack and pats his left hip, signaling his slave to heel, as he steps out into the yard. The boy pulls the door to the workshop closed and hurries to keep up with his Master. His feet moving quickly to keep up with Master’s purposeful strides. Sunlight filters through the thick canopy of leaves that shade the roadway into town.

As they step through the gates of the city; the sounds of the song birds are lost in the thriving hustle and bustle of the city. The boy follows quickly on his Masters heels. Master lightly pats his side, summoning his slave to follow more closely. There are a few slaves scattered about, standing on the corners, chained to large rings attached to spikes driven into the ground. These boys have been staged in the streets by their Masters. The slaves have boxes attached to their collars indicating their Master is offering their use for sale. This could be as a punishment, or could simply be a means of acquiring a few dollars to supplement income. The boy keeps his focus on his Master although he senses the glares from the other slaves on the corners. As they turn the next corner, the boy is assaulted with the delicious aroma of fresh baked bread and an assortment of fresh pastries. He follows his Master into the store and then sinks to his knees beside another boy on the slave mats behind the doorway. The other slave boy keeps his head down, dark black hair falling like a silk veil across his cheek. The boy notices the other boy has a number of fresh red welts on his back and between his toes a steel chain can be seen along the ankle bindings, the boy is obviously under discipline by his Master.

Master buys two loaves of bread and two pastries’. He nibbles on one of the pastries as he moves along the pastry case, considering additional purchases, and then pauses and leans over the slave mats. He holds a bit of pastry down near his knee and says” you may feed boy.” His boy presses a soft kiss to his Masters fingers before his tongue draws in the bit of sweet pastry. The boy then licks and kisses and remains with his eyes lowered until Master dries his fingers in the boy’s hair. Master leaves a coin on the counter saying” it’s nice to have a new bakery in town.” Master turns to leave the shop and slaps his hip once, again for his boy to follow quickly.

The boy rises to his feet remaining close at his hip, his eyes blinking a bit as they step out into the bright sunlight. He feels the warmth of the sun on his face and arms.

As the Master and his boy continue down the street the aroma of fresh bread is replaced with the clean citrus air of fresh ripe fruits. Master pauses from time to time to greet friends and customers. The boy takes mental notes of the blacksmithing queries from customers. Master stops at the fruit vendor, selecting some apples and oranges and fresh berries, he exchanges coins with the man at the booth.

A whip is heard off to the side as a Mistress disciplines her slave for some reason and the boy winces as he hears the crack of the whip and the yelp of the slave girl. A woman walking down the street stops in her tracks and looks at the boy with disdain, “slave trash, you should be whipped for walking the streets that way.” She mutters half beneath her breath. The boy continues following his Master, his eyes lowered in submission and deference, the displeasure of the woman stinging the boy’s heart, much like the crack of the whip was stinging the girl in the distance.

Master stops and turns to face the muttering woman in the heavy crimson robe. He puts his hands on his hips and says” is there a problem woman?” She tells Master” if you choose to have your pets, your slave trash, barely clothed, you should keep him behind closed doors. Not parade them through town. Slaves should be covered when taken into the shopping district, so the free are not assaulted by your vulgarity.”

Master calmly matter-of-factly, responds, “Woman if you don’t mind your tongue, you will find yourself dressed as he is, or wearing even less.” The woman gasps and steps forward raising her hand as if to slap him. She looks into his eyes and stops, she drops her hand and clasps the skirt of her robes and stomps off, muttering” Vile perverts………”

The crack of the whip in the distance has gone silent, replaced by the sobbing pleas of a slave girl, begging her Mistress for forgiveness as she walks away. She stumbles after her, eyes blinded with tears and swollen from prolonged crying, her back crisscrossed with large red welts from the beating.

Master hands his boy the fresh fruit he has just purchased and he packs them into the bottom of the backpack and then adds the loaves of fresh bread to the pack. While his boy packs the purchases away, Master flicks his boy’s nipple rings several times. The boy slips the backpack onto his shoulders, and the tug of the pack lifts the tunic up over his hips, baring the roundness of his bottom beneath the backpack. Master’s boy feels the caress of the leather tunic against his flesh, even more keenly aware of the fabric’s hem, after hearing the woman’s comments.

Master reaches back and flicks his slave’s nipple a few more times through the fabric of the tunic before continuing down the street. He turns into an alley. The air here is much heavier than out on the main street, fresh bread and fruit scents replaced with the thick heavy smell of iron and blood. He has entered butchers row. He barters for several slices of beef and a roast and a couple small steaks. As he barters, Master glances over his shoulder a few times and chuckles to himself as he spots flashes of crimson robes ducking in doorways.

His boy’s stomach churns at the smell of fresh blood, the stench of spoiled blood and meat, and the thick smell of iron. He notices that his Master has been glancing back and keeping track of someone following them. The boys senses go on alert, his Master hands him the meat he has purchased to place in the backpack. While he packs the meat away, he hears Master chuckle to himself and his slave relaxes. Whoever is following is not perceived as a treat, at least not a treat to Master.

Master pats his slave on the head and smiles. He pats his left side, letting his boy know he wants him to stay close. As he steps out of the alley, his stance and steps change. His steps are almost fluid, graceful like a dancer about to begin a dance, or like a hunter stalking his prey. The boy follows close at his Master’s hip, noting the difference in his stride, his steps seem almost choreographed. The boy’s breath quickens as he senses something is up. Master has begun a hunt. The boy hears his finger flick the release on his sword hilt.. With a subtle turn of his wrist, Master points to the ground on the corner of the alley, and the boy slips to his knees on the spot.

As Master moves out of the shadow of the alley, he sees a woman motion to someone. A beggar steps out of the doorway and heads towards Master begging for food and money. Master tosses a pastry behind and to the left of the man. The haggard man pauses, not sure what to do for a moment, and then lunges towards Master. The flash of a knife blade gleams in the mans hand. Master draws his sword and whacks him with the butt of the sword on top of his head and the man drops in his tracks to a huddled mass on the sidewalk. Master steps over the lump of a man and strides forward. His piercing fiery gaze locked on the woman in the alcove. Master grabs her arm and strikes her in the forehead with the hilt of his sword and she melts to the ground unconscious. Master drops to one knee and with a single stroke of his sword he strips the heavy robes from her, he rips her linen house robes into strips and binds her wrists and ankles and tosses her over his shoulder, kicking the woman’s clothing to the side.” She won’t be needing these anymore.”

Master rises to his feet and pats his left hip once again and his boy hurries across the intersection to follow his Master. Master heads for home, pausing once more to buy a small bouquet of flowers. The vendor winks at his slave as he tucks a single rose blossom into the center of the bouquet and the boy smiles appreciatively.” I think these will brighten up the house.” Master says as he hands the flowers to his boy.

Master hums quietly as he wonders up the road towards home. The sun setting behind him casting shadows ahead of him on the path. His new captive is draped limply over his shoulder. Her head bouncing lightly against his back, her arms dangling down past his butt.

The boy follows behind his Master, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers, pausing from time to time to retrieve the hairpins dropping from the girl’s hair. As they near the house, Master tells his boy to put the purchases away and then join him in the forge. The boy swallows a hard lump in his throat as he nods and hoarsely whispers” Yes Master.”

Master’s boy takes the bundles from the market into the house; he wraps the loaves of bread in a cloth and puts the meat in the cool room. He pulls down a basket from the shelves and places the fresh fruit in the basket before setting it in the cool room as well.

He turns his attention to the shelf with vases and draws water from the well and fills a crystal vase with water and then arranges the bouquet of flowers and sets the vase on the low table in the living room. He adds a log to the hearth and stirs the coals, with the sun going down the room will grow cooler by the time Master returns here to relax.

Masters boy glances around the room, satisfied that all is in place, then sighs as he steps into the kitchen. He stops to collect the rose blossom the vender had tucked into the bouquet and the handful of hair pins he had collected on the way home. The boy strips off the tunic and hangs it on the hook by the door and then tugs open the door and heads across the yard towards the
growing light in the shop.