The Prince Trains a Slave, Part 8

After Monk left the office, I opened a secret panel in the wall exposing the spiral stairs leading up to the flat. Originally, I thought the idea of a secret staircase was kind of silly, but Simon was so enamored by the idea that I finally gave in and allowed the panel to be installed. After just a couple of uses, I began to like the idea of having a way to move between the flat and my office unseen.

Entering the flat through another hidden panel there, I found Malcolm placing a flower arrangement on a table by the front window. Shutters covered the lower half of the floor to ceiling windows allowing light to enter, but keeping anyone from the street from seeing clearly into the flat.

“Stop what you’re doing there, Malcolm,” I said, heading for the stairs.

“Did I do something wrong?” Malcolm asked.

“No, don’t worry about that,” I said. “Just relax and take a seat – wait there until I come back down.” I took the stairs up to the gallery and found Simon in the upstairs study working on the computer.

“I didn’t expect you up here so soon,” Simon said, his face breaking into a smile that made me tingle all over. “I was just working on some lessons for Malcolm,” he said coming over to me and wrapping his arms around my waist.

“What kind of lessons?” I bent my head down to kiss his sweet lips.

“Oh, I thought he might make a good butler for when wen entertain,” Simon said, resting his head against my chest. “You know – for when Alexi and Eric visit for dinner and such.”

“Wonderful idea,” I said, stroking Simon’s silky hair.

“So, I was going through the Internet to find things on the proper way things are done.”

“You can continue doing that later down in The Catacombs,” I said. “I want you and Malcolm to spend the rest of the day down there. It might be a good idea to have a guest suite prepared just in case you have to spend the night.” Simon pulled away, his eyes frightened. I smiled and pulled him back to me. “There’s nothing to worry about – everything is well in hand. I just want you down there as a precaution. The entrance to The Catacombs is hidden and it can be sealed off – so I want you and Malcolm down there tonight.”

“What’s going on?” Simon demanded with a quaver in his voice. “There’s trouble because of that guy from the other day, isn’t there?”

“It’s just a precaution,” I repeated. “But yes, Barry Manchester is probably going to pay a visit to the club tonight. I have a lot of things to prepare before then, and I want you two safe.”

“I’m not helpless, you know,” Simon said, anger creeping into his voice.

“Of course not,” I assured him. “But, who else is familiar with all of the operations of the clubs? Who else knows the access codes for the various officials who are friendly to us? In the remote chance we have problems, I’m going to need to rely on you to make the calls to those officials to get everything smoothed over.”

“Oh, that’s different,” Simon said, mollified. “You should have said so from the beginning.”

“Well, you didn’t give much of a chance,” I teased, mussing his hair. “So, to continue – I want Malcolm down there to assist you. You know – bring you food and drinks and watch the monitors if you have to relieve yourself. You two will be operating the communications center – it might be important and I’m counting on you.”

Although The Catacombs wasn’t ready for member operations, the club was almost fully staffed with slaves. Leading Simon and Malcolm to one of the guest suites, the subterranean club was a hive of activity. Slaves who had been assisting in getting various areas of the club ready to open were being herded back to their quarters.

I found Monk looking over equipment in the main control room, one of the bodyguard slaves by his side. This was the first time he had been down into The Catacombs and he was obviously impressed by the equipment he saw.

“I ‘ad no idea yer had all these stun guns and cattle prods,” Monk said.

“You’ll also find various restraints in the other room,” I said. “We’ve got handcuffs, belt restraints, straightjackets, and a few other things you might need.”

I led Monk into the other room and watched in amusement as he examined the various restraint equipment lined up neatly on the shelves and racks. He pulled a heavy collar from one of the shelves, turning it over in his hands.

“I ain’t never seen one o’ these,” he said.

“That’s a control collar,” I explained. “We also have some control belts over there,” I said pointing to where the belts hung neatly from a rack. “They deliver an incapacitating electrical shock.”

“Bloody hell,” Monk said, shaking his head in wonder. “Yer all set fer a fuckin’ revolution down ‘ere.”

“We like to be prepared,” I admitted.

“Now, ‘im out there,” Monk lowered his voice as he jerked his bald head in the direction of the control room where the bodyguard slave stood in a rest position. “Wot exactly is ‘is story?”

“He’s a slave, owned by the club,” I explained. I stared out at the slave and pointed. “Do you see that green stripe around his collar? That means that he sold himself into slavery voluntarily.”

“Wot?” Monk was astounded by the idea. “Wot the fuck fer?”

“I’d have to check his records for that,” I said casually. “Some enter slavery to fill a need in their lives,” I explained. “Some have insurmountable debts and other problems – they feel like their life is totally out of control and find that selling themselves into slavery is the only option left to them. There are about as many different reasons as there are slaves.”

“So is ‘e any good?”

I nodded confidently. “Oh yes, he’s good,” I assured the chief of security. “He’s at least as good as any of the men you brought on board, and probably better.”

“So, ‘ow many o’ these slaves’re gonna be available tonight?” Monk asked.

“About twenty or so,” I replied. “We should have more than enough people to outnumber Manchester and his gang.”

“Bloody right,” Monk agreed.

I went into the control room and walked up to the slave. He stood about 6’2” tall and was heavily muscled. His dark hair was cut in a medium length crewcut with a bumper. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Steven, sir,” the slave answered coming to attention.

“Relax, Steven,” I said. “I’m assigning you directly to Monk here. You’ll be his liaison between the security team and the guards. Anything he needs, I expect you to see to for him.”

“Yes sir!”

“Monk, Steven here will see to it that the other slaves carry out your orders to the letter,” I said. “If there’s anything he can’t arrange, just have him contact me through the control room here.”

Leaving Monk in Steven’s capable hands, I excused myself and headed towards the medical clinic. Before I got there, Konrad and Brigitta caught up with me.

“There’s going to be trouble, right?” Brigitta asked. “What can we do to help?”

“It won’t be much trouble, I’m sure,” I replied. “And, when it’s all over, you’re definitely going to have some work to do. We’ll be processing a new slave, so have your needles and tattoo equipment ready to go.”

“I’m pretty good at martial arts, you know,” Brigitta said eagerly.

I eyed her sinewy form appreciatively. “I’m sure you are,” I said in amusement. “But, we’ll have to let Monk and the security forces handle any problems that crop up.” I turned to look directly at Brigitta. “You wouldn’t want to make them feel unneeded, would you?”

Entering the clinic, I found Sam and Diana surrounded by dozens of open boxes of supplies. Both greeted me warmly.

“Would you believe it?” Diana asked in exasperation. “Almost all of the supplies arrived at one time and now we have this mess to sort through.”

“I guess that can be a problem,” I agreed.

“But, except for the few pairs of scrubs we brought with us, the new supplies haven’t arrived,” Sam said. “Right now, it’s kind of feast or famine around here.” He shrugged and offered me a wry grin. “At least all of the important things have arrived – it’s just a matter of getting everything sorted out, inventoried, and put away.”

I looked around at the new clinic – the last time I had managed to get down to see the clinic, the floor tile still needed to be installed, and none of the shining stainless steel and glass cabinets had been installed. Now, with everything in place, the clinic certainly looked different.

“Sam!” A voice in a clipped, upper class British accent called. “Are you sure they haven’t sent any surgical scrubs at all?” A tall, very handsome young man came barging into the room. Seeing the rest of us standing amid the chaos of the new supplies he stopped short. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware we had visitors.” He extended his hand. “I’m Ali Pashir – Doctor Pashir.”

I took the offered hand and studied Pashir. He was about my height with shining jet-black straight hair that was gelled and combed back to one side. His dark brown eyes were so dark that they appeared almost black. His features had a hint of delicacy that only made his handsome good looks more appealing.

“I’m Duncan Masters, Dr. Pashir,” I introduced myself. “I’m sorry I didn’t get down to welcome you when you arrived.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Pashir said. “I’m sure you’ve been inundated with things needing your immediate attention in order to get the club ready to open.”

“You’re having problems with scrubs that haven’t arrived?”

“Yes – it seems that our original order has been lost in the supplier’s computer system somewhere,” Pashir explained. “Normally, I wouldn’t mind too much but I have only the set I’m wearing.”

“Well that’s a problem easily remedied,” I smiled. I went over to the phone on Diana’s reception desk and called Simon in the control center. I quickly explained the problem and had him find a supply shop in the phone book and place an order to be picked up immediately. I turned back to Pashir. “There all finished – the three of you can head up to the control center. Simon will have a club credit card and the address of the supply shop waiting for you. Pick up the scrubs and anything else you might need.”

“Thank you,” Pashir beamed.

“Not at all,” I replied. “You’ll be needing them – you’ll probably be breaking in the surgery tonight.”

“Yes, I’d heard that there is a bit of trouble expected,” Pashir replied.

“Word gets around fast,” I joked. “Unless something very unexpected happens, everything will be over before it really begins. How are your skills at castration and maybe penectomy?”

“Adequate to the task, I’d say,” Pashir admitted. “Castrations are one of the things that got me bounced from my residency.”

“I’d heard that,” I said. “What happened?”

“It started when I was interning,” Pashir explained. “I was working in the Casualty Ward – late one Friday night a young man was brought in half dead from blood loss. He’d tried unsuccessfully to castrate himself and couldn’t continue after cutting nearly halfway through his scrotum.”

“Were you able to save him?”

“Barely,” Pashir said. “The surgeons repaired the damage he’d done to himself instead of completing his castration.” Pashir sighed and shook his head. “I made the mistake of following up on the case to see how he was doing. He hung himself in the toilet. Anyway, I did a bit of research and discovered that there were large numbers of people seeking castration and willingly going to people who had little or no medical training.”

“So, you quietly made yourself available,” I said.

“Yes – I figured it was better for the patient if someone who knew what he was doing perform the castrations in a sterile setting,” Pashir said. “Eventually, though, my sideline was discovered and I was discharged just before completing my residency.”

“We’ve already got some people working on getting that taken care of,” I promised him. “Look, it’s getting late – you need to go get those scrubs and any other supplies they might have that you’ll need. And, I still have a few matters to take care of before it gets dark.”

One of the matters I wanted to take care of was spending some time with Simon. I sent word up to the control room for him to meet me at the guest suite we’d selected. He had reached the suite before I did and was standing in the middle of the room naked when I entered. Looking over his hairless, naked body I licked my lips hungrily. His slender penis was erect and looked especially appealing to me – especially with nothing dangling between his legs below that sweet-looking erection.

“I’ve got the hot tub going,” Simon said seductively when I took him in my arms.

“I was thinking about having an intimate dinner with you,” I whispered into his ear while tracing my tongue along his ear.

“Oh yeah,” he sighed huskily. “That feels good … mmmmm, I love it when you nibble on my ears.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve ordered some dinner sent up – Alexi called and said that he and Eric were going to be coming over. The food should be here shortly after they get here.”

“Good boy,” I muttered, giving his neck small bites.

“So, do you want to get in the hot tub or not?”

“Let’s skip the hot tub,” I suggested. “I want your ass now – we’ll take a shower afterwards.” I guided him into the bedroom and had him get on his hands and knees on the bed. Taking a tube of KY jelly from the bed stand, I generously lubed his tight ass before positioning myself between his legs.

Simon twisted around to give me an eager grin. “What’s taking you so long?” He teased.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, pressing my erect dick against his hole. “Can’t wait?”

Simon giggled. “You have to ask?”

I pushed forward gasping in pleasure as my dick entered his tight hole. Leaning forward until my chest was pressed tightly against his bare back, I began to slowly move my hips back and forth bringing moans of delight from Simon. I reached around his chest and began to fondle his nipples as I rode him, bringing even more sighs of pleasure from him. As I pumped away, Simon began to push his hips back into me. I could tell from the way that he began making small yips and yelps that he was becoming more and more aroused. I knew from the sounds that he was making that my dick massaging his prostate would bring him to climax very soon.

I pulled out of my pet boy, bringing immediate protests from him. Ignoring him, I led him to the bathroom and into the shower. Simon groped me, sucking on my nipples and pulling on my balls as I adjusted the shower spray from the seven showerheads that surrounded us in the stall. Then, I pushed him away from me.

I gave him a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. “I want you to climax first,” I said as I sank to my knees and began licking at his slender dick. Even the mist that came at us from all sides of the shower couldn’t wash away the generous amounts of crystal precum that was leaking from the tip of his penis. His juice tasted even sweeter than it normally did. I savored each lick before finally opening my mouth and taking only the mushroom head past my lips.

Simon gasped and began raking his fingers through my hair as I started sucking only on the head of his dick. I waited until his whole body was trembling with desire before sliding my mouth farther down his twitching shaft. It wasn’t long before Simon began begging me to bring him to climax. The trembling in his legs became more and more pronounced until his legs began shaking uncontrollably. And still, I sucked at him slowly, controlling his increasing pleasure until he was close to tears. Only then did I permit him to cum, filling my mouth with his delicious juices, swallowing every drop he produced. I kept his dick in my mouth long after he finished shooting, and then teased it as I licked it clean.

Standing, I took Simon in my arms again, pressing my face tightly against his and savoring the feel of his smooth chest against my skin. I traced my fingers along his spine, tickling him slightly.

“Well, maybe we should have gone sightseeing before coming here,” Alexi’s voice came from behind us. “Although the sights here are a lot more interesting.”

I looked through the glass doors to see him standing on the other side with a smirk on his face and his arm draped over Eric’s shoulder. I grinned and kissed Simon hard on the mouth before looking back at Alexi. “Oh shut up and get naked and join us before I reach out there and drag you into the shower fully clothed.”

“Such an endearing invitation,” Alexi joked. “How can I possibly resist?”

I grinned through the glass at him and returned to kissing Simon as Alexi and Eric stripped. When the glass door opened, I turned to welcome them both into the large shower compartment – the stall was easily big enough to accommodate several more couples. Eric had removed his wig, revealing the Imperial Russian double-headed eagle tattooed across it. I reached out and put my hand on the back of Alexi’s neck, pulling him close to me for a deep kiss while Eric and Simon locked lips across from us.

Kissing Alexi was always an overpowering experience. It was almost like a vampire’s embrace – Alexi pressed his mouth hard against mine while sucking my tongue deep into his mouth. His hands clamped around my head, holding me in place. When he finally released me, I felt a little weak kneed as I always did after one of his kisses. I did notice that those deep devouring kisses were reserved only for me. When Alexi kissed Simon in welcome, it was almost chaste – even though it was open mouthed kiss.

Alexi looked Simon over. “It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful your boy is,” he said.

“I can’t get over it, either,” I admitted. “I could say the same thing about Eric, you know.”

Alexi pulled Eric to him, smiling hungrily. “I know – he’s gorgeous,” he said hungrily. Alexi slowly dragged his tongue up the side of Eric’s face and over his shaven skull. “And, he’s so delicious, too.”

When Simon sank down to his knees to take my straining erection into his mouth, Alexi turned Eric around and began fucking him. He reached around his boy and began stroking Eric’s hard dick. That was a little idiosyncrasy of Alexi’s – I knew for a fact that he sucked Eric’s dick, Alexi had even admitted that much to me. But, he’d never do it in front of anyone else – it was an act reserved totally for their private times together. While he fucked and stroked Eric, Simon sucked my dick. I tried to be gentle as I stroked his wet hair, but the things he did to my dick with his lips, mouth, and tongue made my hands tremble.

Alexi came moments before I did – he threw his head back in a roar of delight and then brought his head down and bit Eric at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. I’d seen him do that more times than I could count and somehow, he always managed to avoid drawing blood. The moment his teeth connected with Eric’s flesh, Eric let out a breathy scream of pleasure and shot his load. Eric’s cry of pleasure mingled with my own, because just as he began shooting, Simon brought me to climax.

We had just finished drying off and getting dressed when the dinner arrived. Simon had ordered an antipasto salad, hot roast beef and boiled potatoes. It was a meal substantial enough to take the edge off of our hunger, but not so heavy that it made any of us feel logy. I noticed that Alexi was dressed in a black turtleneck and black slacks and commented on it.

“I thought I’d join in on tonight’s activities,” Alexi smiled. “I thought Eric could stay with Simon.”

“Good idea,” I said. “Simon’s going to man the control room in case things get out of hand. He’ll contact the right people to keep things quiet.” I took a bit of the roast beef. “With the manpower we have, I really don’t anticipate any of us even breaking a sweat.”

After dinner, I finished dressing and returned to the sitting room. Alexi looked over the black three-piece suit, starched white shirt, and crimson tie that I was wearing with a bemused smile.

“I feel positively underdressed,” he commented. “You didn’t tell me that this was going to be a formal affair. You look like you’re dressed for a funeral.”

“That’s the impression I hope Barry gets,” I laughed.

After taking Eric and Simon down to the control room, Alexi and I went up to the dance club where Monk and Steven were waiting. The club was in almost total darkness with only a pool of light over a small section of the bar and another larger pool of light over the middle of the dance floor. Steven looked nearly as formidable as Monk dressed in a black jumpsuit.

“Everything ready?” I asked.

“Everyfing and everyone is in place,” Monk confirmed.

I looked around the cavernous space of the club, trying to see where the bodyguards and Monk’s security people were hidden without success. Monk had them well hidden in the shadows.

“Where d’ yer plan to hide?” Monk asked.

“I plan to stay right here at the bar,” I said. “When Mr. Manchester and company arrive, I want him to find me right here waiting for him. Let them in, but whatever happens – none of them walk out until I give the word.” Monk opened his mouth to protest, but I held up a warning finger. “No arguments,” I said firmly. I reached into my jacket pocket and brought out a fully charged stun gun. “I’m prepared – besides, knowing you, I’m sure Manchester and his people will never make it as far as the bar if the come straight in tearing things apart. If they don’t, let Manchester come right up to the bar and leave him to me.”

“Yer the boss,” Monk said grudgingly. He fitted a two-way radio headset over his shaven head and spoke briefly into the microphone. The lights over the bar dimmed slightly while the lights under the bar increased in brightness. He jabbed a sausage-sized finer in my direction. “If fings go wrong, or even look like they’re goin’ wrong, I’m takin’ ‘at ponce down.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed.

Monk took another look at me and shook his head before disappearing into the darkness with Steven.

“I do believe that Monk thinks that you’re out of your mind,” Alexi said in amusement. “I don’t know that he’s far wrong.”

I shrugged. “He probably isn’t,” I agreed. I went around behind the bar and poked around and came up with a bottle of white wine from a case under the counter behind the bar. “Want a glass?” I asked.

“Why not?” Alexi shrugged.

I lost track of how long we waited. For the most part, Alexi and I remained silent. I was beginning to think that Manchester had grown a brain and decided not to pay us a visit when the sound of breaking glass shattered the night.

“Fuck,” I swore softly. “That stained glass window on the front door cost a fortune. I told Monk to leave the door unlocked.” I told Alexi to step back into the shadows and out of sight. He reluctantly moved back while giving me another one of his strange looks. Forcing myself to remain calm, I carried my glass back around to the front of the bar and leaned back, hoping I looked more composed than I felt. After a couple of long moments, I heard the sound of feet on broken glass and Barry Manchester, backed by four goons wandered across the open dance floor. “You didn’t have to break the window,” I called out. “I left the door open for you.”

“You Duncan Masters?” Manchester called, peering across the darkness towards the bar.

“I am,” I admitted.

“I ‘ave a bone t’ pick wiv yew,” Manchester called menacingly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t discuss over a glass of wine,” I said. “Won’t you join me?” I made a point of looking away from him as I poured another glass of wine and pushed it down the bar a couple of feet from where I was leaning.

“Feelin’ sure o’ yerself,” Manchester said, moving towards me while motioning for his goons to stay where they were.

I got my first good look at Manchester when he came up to the bar and leaned nonchalantly against it. He was about six feet tall and dressed flashily in a shiny rayon olive colored suit and an off the rack imitation bronze satin shirt with matching tie. His chin-length strawberry blond hair was pushed back behind his ears. He had a pockmarked face and a thin, pointed nose that had been broken at some point. He looked like he was exactly what he was – a cheap hood with bad taste and a fat ego.

“So, you have some matter you want to talk about?” I asked as innocently as possible.

“You know wot the fuck I’m ‘ere about, yew ponce,” Manchester snarled. “Sid Snell lost his balls because o’ yew.”

I shrugged like I couldn’t care less. “It’s not really that much of a loss,” I said. “I saw his balls – they weren’t worth talking about.”

“Be ‘at as it may, yew doing that t’ ‘im made me look like an arsehole,” Manchester said. “A man in my position can’t look like an arsehole. I’ve got ter make yew pay fer that.”

“He was rude and laid hands on me,” I explained, slipping the stun gun from my pocket.

“No matter,” Manchester said. “I’ve got to make it right.”

“How are you going to do that?” I asked.

“I’m gonna carve up yer pretty face, an’ ‘en, I’m gonna cut off yer bollocks an’ see ‘ow yew like it.”

“Is that so?” I asked. “I don’t think that I’d like that very much at all.” I gave Manchester a hard look and lowered my voice. “It’s not too late to end all of this, you know.”

“Scared?” Manchester sneered. “Yew should be.”

“No, no it has nothing to do with being afraid,” I said evenly. “And, you should know that I’m certainly not afraid of you. I’m just trying to give you one last chance to walk away while there’s still a chance.”

I kept my eyes on Manchester’s hands, waiting for them to either reach out for my throat or, what I really expected, make a move for his pocket. That was my mistake. He forced a chuckle and reached up with his left hand to push a lock of his long strawberry blond hair back behind his ear. After that, everything happened suddenly.

His right hand moved for the glass of wine I had poured for him. I let my eyes follow his hand, ready to duck when he tried to throw the liquid in my face. Instead, he stepped forward slightly as his left hand swept past my face. The right side of my face blossomed in pain as the razor that had been hidden in his sleeve slashed me to the bone. I felt the hot wetness of blood pouring down my face.

“Duncan!” Alexi screamed, leaping from the shadows behind the bar and making a grab for the gangster’s throat. Manchester spun to face his new assailant, slashing out with his left hand, thinking that I was out of the fight. I took my opportunity and brought the stun gun up, triggering it as I pressed the device against the back of his neck. Manchester convulsed, the hand holding the razor opening as he dropped to the floor and lay there jerking and twitching.

I spun around to face the other gang members, fully expecting them to be rushing in my direction. Instead, they were sprawled on the floor in the circle of light in the middle of the room looking frightened surrounded by the black-clad figures of the slave bodyguards and Monk’s security men. All of them were dressed in black coveralls, with black neoprene hoods covering their faces.

I felt hands grabbing at me, and almost struck out with the stun gun again. Monk, who seemed to appear at my side from out of nowhere, grabbed my hand and saved me from zapping Alexi who was trying to see how badly I’d been cut. His face showed concern, but Alexi’s eyes were filled with fear that I’d been seriously injured.

“I tol’ ya, I tol’ ya it was dangerous to face that ponce one on one,” Monk said, pulling a huge linen handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it against my face. “Don’ worry, it’s clean.”

Alexi pulled the folded handkerchief from my face for a moment and examined my face. “Oh my god – he’s cut you to the bone,” Alexi said, his voice trembling with anxiety. “We need to get you down to the clinic.” He pressed the handkerchief back against my face. “Keep that pressed tight to your face. Oh god, Duncan – I didn’t even see it coming. I shouldn’t have let you put yourself at such risk.”

I pulled away from the two of them. “Relax you two,” I snapped. “You’re both behaving like a couple of old women. I’m not finished here.” I took a breath and spoke again in a gentler voice. “I really am all right – it’s not nearly as bad as it looks.”

“Yer bleedin’ like a stuck pig,” Monk pointed out.

“The sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can get down to the clinic,” I said.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Alexi asked in concern.

“Yeah, yeah I am,” I said. I snapped my fingers to get attention. “First – can someone get the rest of the lights on in here?” Monk raised his headset mouthpiece and moments later the lights came up. “Steven – whichever one of you is Steven,” one of the black-clad figures separated from the group surrounding the goons. “Steven, do me a favor and get Manchester into restraints.” Steven’s answer was a quick bob of his head as he trotted over to Manchester, who was still jerking on the floor.

“I wanna talk t’ ya about ‘at one,” Monk said, tilting his head in Steven’s direction. He led me over to one of the goons on the floor who was unconscious – a young man about my age with short blond hair and Manchester’s same bad taste in clothes. “This ‘un ‘ad a shooter,” Monk said. “’e ‘ad it aimed at you. Steven took ‘im down wiv a fist t’ the head.”

“He’s going to pay for that,” I said menacingly. “They’re all going to pay for that mistake with their balls.”

“Barry said no shooters,” one of the other goons cried out. “Only ‘e brought one.” He looked up at me with a terrified expression on his face. “I seen what yew did to Sid – I don’ want ‘at done t’ me.”

“What makes him so fucking special that he brought a gun?” I asked.

“’at’s Barry’s little bruvver,” one of the other goons offered.

“Take him with his brother then,” I snarled. “He’s got an expensive lesson to learn.” One of the black-clad figures – there was no way I could tell slave bodyguards from Monk’s security team – grabbed the foot of Barry’s brother and dragged him across the floor to the bar. I turned back to the remaining three goons, pointing my finger in their direction. “Get their pants down around their ankles,” I ordered.

Before any of our people could react, the goon who had identified Manchester’s brother began sobbing as his bladder voided itself. A large puddle of urine formed around his feet. He raised his tear-soaked face to me. “Please … please don’ do it,” he blubbered, past the point where he even bothered to care about how he humiliated himself. “Don’ cut….”

“Shut the fuck up, you simperin’ ponce,” Monk bellowed. “Yer lot fink yer ‘ard cases ‘cuz yer got away wiv bullyin’ people. Well, I got some fuckin’ news fer yer – yer just met a real fuckin’ ‘ard case – ‘e’s the real fuckin’ fing.” Monk spun around at the security team. “And wot the fuck are yer lot waitin’ on? The boss said ter get their pants down – get a fuckin’ move on. NOW!”

The security team almost fell over each other to carry out the orders. Some grabbed the arms of the goons and held them in iron grips while others scrambled to yank down the trousers on the three goons. All of the goons were sniveling and trembling now.

I lowered my voice and whispered to Alexi. “Do me a favor and get an Elastrator up here.”

“I’ll get Sam or Dr. Pashir up here to look at your face, too,” Alexi whispered back.

“No! Not in front of his lot,” I said, casting my eyes in the direction of our prisoners.

Alexi looked in their direction and understood my purpose. “Okay, it’s your call.”

I slowly strode over to the three goons and made a show of examining their genitals. All three of them had shrunken in fear. I roughly handled their dicks and balls, bringing grimaces of pain and fear to their faces as I squeezed their balls. When I came to the goon who had peed himself, I pushed my face close to his. “You piss on my hand and I’ll personally cut your worthless dick off right here and now, do you understand me?” Tears streamed down his face as his face contorted in fear and nodded his head. I gave his dick a fierce squeeze. “I asked you a question. Do you fucking understand me? I want an answer.”

“Y-y-y-yes,” he stammered. “I understand.”

“That’s better,” I said in a more casual tone. I stepped back and looked the goons over. “Despite what happened, I’m in a generous mood tonight.” Each face showed relief at my words. “None of you are fully responsible for what happened here.” Konrad appeared with the Elastrator. “So, I’m going to give each of you a chance to keep his balls.” I turned to Konrad who was looking worriedly at my face. “Put a band on each of these punks.” I indicated the one who had wet himself. “That one has trouble with holding his water – put a band around his dick, too.”

All of the goons began struggling and trying desperately to pull away as Konrad approached them. More of our security people moved in quickly to hold their legs. I watched silently as Konrad moved quickly from one to the other to slide their balls through the stretched band. Each of the goons winced and moaned pathetically as the tight band closed over their scrotums. The one who peed himself began sobbing again and crying hysterically when Konrad slid a band over his penis.

“Now,” I called loudly. “Each of you has a castrating band around his balls. Let me explain how this works – listen closely because the clock is ticking now. The more time you waste, the more likely you’ll end up like Snell – without any balls. Those bands are cutting off the blood supply to your precious balls.” I looked to each of them calmly. “Right about now, your balls probably still hurt a bit. But, even as I speak, they’re beginning to feel a little numb. That tells me that the bands are doing their jobs.”

“Fer gawd’s sake, tell us wot we gotta do,” one of the goons cried in panic.

“It’s simple, really,” I smiled. “All you have to do is cut the bands off.” I took the eagle claw band cutter from Konrad and held up. “This little tool is all you need to save your genitals. And, I’m going to give it to you.”

“Wotta we gotta do?” The goon moaned.

“Nothing special,” I replied with a smile. “All you have to do is get back to the mini cab office and someone will be waiting there for you with this little tool. Once you get it in your eager little hands, all you have to do is hook it around the band and voila, it’s off. It’s that simple.” I turned to the guards. “Let them pull their pants up.”

Hope filled their faces as they scrambled to pull their trousers up, stealing glances towards the door.

“’at’s all we ‘ave t’ do?” One of the goons asked in disbelief. “Just get back t’ the office – ‘ere ain’t no strings attached?”

“No, not really any strings attached,” I said. “Oh, there is one thing – turn out your pockets. Empty everything onto the floor in front of you. Wallets, cash, coins, keys – empty them of everything.” I turned to the security people. “Gentlemen, help them if you will. We want to keep them honest.” I smiled at the dismayed look on their faces. “The only string is that you have to walk back to the mini cab stand. At least one of my people will be watching you the whole time. If you take a bus, a taxi, force someone to give you a ride, or accept a ride – then you can kiss your balls goodbye.” I paused and gave them my most unfriendly smile. “I wouldn’t suggest trying to find a knife to free yourselves. Those bands are by necessity extremely tight – using a regular knife will undoubtedly result in severe damage to your family jewels and then you’d still end up losing everything between your legs.”

“Do yew realize ‘ow far we’ll ‘ave to walk?” One of the goons whined.

“If you take a brisk pace, it shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes,” I said. “That should be plenty of time before irreversible damage is done. I wouldn’t take much more time than that, though.” I turned to Monk and spoke softly. “I want you to take one of your security team to the mini cab stand. Have the other two follow these creeps – keep in touch on your mobile phones.”

“Gotcher,” Monk bobbed his head in understanding.

“Stay there while they get themselves cut free.”

“Any objections to us knockin’ ‘em aroun’ a bit?” Monk asked.

“Nothing serious, Monk,” I said. “Bruises, but no broken bones.” I glanced down at the pile of junk on the floor. “Take their things with you and give them back when they get to the cab stand.”

“Gotcher,” Monk agreed.

I faced the goons one last time – they were all clearly anxious to start their journey. “I’m letting you off lightly tonight. You punks aren’t welcome to this club or this neighborhood. If I even hear of any of you stepping foot back here again, I’ll have each of you hunted down and castrated. Be clear on this point – that’s not a threat. It’s my promise to you.” I gave them an ominous smile. “And gentlemen, I keep my promises. Now, get the fuck out of here.”

After what was left of Manchester’s gang scrambled as fast as they could from the club, Alexi took my arm. “Now that you’ve impressed those hoods that you’re a dangerous man, can we get you down to the clinic?” He asked. He looked me over in concern. “Oh Jesus, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. I was feeling light-headed and my face was throbbing. “Let’s get this thing taken care of now.”

Sam was waiting outside the service elevator with a gurney. “Don’t even think of arguing,” Sam said when I started to protest. “You’re staggering already. Now, climb on the gurney and let’s get you straight to the clinic.”

Sighing I climbed onto the gurney, secretly grateful that I didn’t have to walk any further. I watched as the lights flashed past as Sam rushed the gurney to the clinic. The doors were opened before we even got into the treatment room and suddenly Simon was hovering over me trying to smile, but fear still showed in his eyes.

“You’re going to be fine,” Simon promised, choking back tears.

“It’s nothing,” I said. “It looks a lot worse than it really is.”

“I’ll be the one to decide that,” Pashir said, gently moving Simon to one side and bending over to examine the cut.

Diana and Sam seemed to be all around me cleaning the blood from my face as Pashir continued examining the damage.

“You’re going to have a scar,” Pashir announced. “He cut you to the bone.” He cocked his head to one side as he examined my face. “At least it’s not a jagged cut – a nice straight scar can add character to one’s appearance, you know.” He gave me a wink. “I’m only joking – for now, I’m going to clean the wound and get a plastic surgeon to do the actual repair work. He’ll be able to minimize the scaring.”

“Is there a plastic surgeon we can call at short notice who can be trusted?” Simon asked.

“Don’t worry, Simon,” Alexi said reassuringly. “Sir Bernard Spillsbury is a member – he comes to Basel quite a bit.” Alexi disappeared into the office with Pashir to make the necessary call.

Sam appeared at my side and began cutting the left sleeve of my shirt. “Dr. Pashir wants you to have an IV line put in,” he explained. “Your shirt is ruined anyway. You’ll never get all that blood out of it. Just relax, you’re in good hands down here.”

Alexi and Pashir returned after about fifteen minutes and announced that Spillsbury would be arriving soon, and that until then I was to be kept quiet and comfortable. Since I couldn’t do anything else, I asked where Manchester and his younger brother were being kept. Simon assured me that the two of them were securely locked away in separate holding cells on the lowest level.

When Sir Bernard showed up nearly an hour later, I almost laughed despite the throbbing in the side of my face. He was so stereotypically British that he was almost a caricature of what some advertising rep thought a titled Briton had to look like. He had a mane of snow white hair swept straight back from his face, a walrus moustache, and was actually wearing tweeds.

“Alexi, how are you?” Sir Bernard said, taking Alexi’s hand in both of his. After exchanging a few pleasantries with Alexi, he looked around the clinic nodding. “I see you consulted with Kalmbach from Berlin on the medical facilities? Am I right?”

“As a matter of fact, we did,” Alexi admitted. “You were in Bermuda at the time.”

“I thought I recognized that old bastard’s hand,” Sir Bernard joked. “Perfectly functional, efficient, state of the art.” He paused and turned around the room, taking in each of us. “But, totally sterile and lacking personality.”

“Sir Bernard, it is good to see you again,” Pashir said warmly.

“And good to see that you’ve landed on your feet,” Sir Bernard replied. “A shame about the little spot of trouble you had. But, I understand that there are powers working to make it all disappear.”

“Thanks to you and the good people here,” Pashir said.

“Nonsense, I was asked for a recommendation and you were in need of a position until sanity returned to the medical review committee,” Sir Bernard said. “My God, man! You provided a valuable service and prevented I don’t know how many botched surgeries that could have resulted in illness and even death. You should have been given a medal. Now, bring me up to speed on the patient here.” After conferring with Pashir, he went right to work examining me, tut-tutting the whole time.

“Typical,” he sighed. “So bloody typical – young people seem to think that they’re impervious to injury. And, you’re an American, I understand – that only compounds the problem.” He looked over his half moon glasses at me. “Still, you should grow out of the rashness and impetuous behavior that caused you to receive this injury.” He stood up, regarded me seriously for a moment. “Then again, your American nature may prevent that. My advice to you, young man, is to grow up and behave yourself – otherwise, I predict that you’ll be seeing a lot more of me in a professional capacity.”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“No, I don’t think I shall,” Sir Bernard retorted. “You have trained security people, I understand. You should have stayed back and let the professionals do their job.”

“Their job is to back me up,” I said firmly. “Not baby sit me.”

“You see?” Sir Bernard turned to the room. “The impetuousness of youth. I can’t count the number of injuries I’ve been required to repair because of the rash youthful belief in one’s invincibility.” He leaned over me again. “Still you were more lucky than you can imagine. The fellow who did this to you could have caused even more serious damage.” The old doctor turned back to Pashir. “We’ll operate immediately – have your people get him prepared.”

Once started, Sir Bernard was a dynamo. Before I knew what was going on, Diana was busy cutting off the rest of my shirt and undershirt while Sam disappeared into the operating room to get everything set up in there. Diana injected something into my IV line and the next thing I knew I felt like I was floating on a gentle ocean. I had a vague recollection of my gurney being rolled into the other room, and after that, everything was a jumble of disjointed voices and bright lights.

The next thing I clearly remember, someone was holding my hand and stroking my forehead. Opening my eyes – I didn’t remember ever closing them – I found Simon sitting by my side, a look of concern on his face. Behind me, I heard Sam’s voice calling that I was awake.

Sir Bernard loomed into view, reaching towards my face. I winced a little as he peeled back the surgical tape and checked my wound. “That’s a nice bit of a job, if I do say so myself,” he said. “You will have a slight scar across your cheekbone – there’s just no avoiding that. But, it won’t be nearly as noticeable as the one you’d have had otherwise.”

“Thanks,” I said. I began to sit up.

“Not so fast,” Sir Bernard said, as he placed a well-manicured hand on my chest. “I don’t want you getting the sutures wet – so showers are out until I tell you otherwise.” He went on giving me a list of dos and don’ts – more don’ts than dos – about my post-operative care. I half listened, mainly because while I was quite willing to take it easy for the next day or so, I certainly had no intention of staying in bed for that long. I had several pieces of business to take care of.

Eventually, Sir Bernard let me get up and I was able to make my way up to the flat – guarded every step of the way by Simon and Alexi. Once up in the flat, I found Yoshi, Eric, and Mackenzie waiting for us. I had hardly entered the flat when Yoshi guided to me a chair where a steaming cup of herbal tea was waiting for me. All of the drapes and shutters had been closed, keeping the room in darkness. The lights were kept low, casting a dim light over everything.

“Look, I appreciate everyone’s concern,” I said turning to face them all. “But, I’m far from an invalid. I’ve got some important business to take care of – and I’m going to take care of it. I’d appreciate everyone’s help – but I will get it done without your help if necessary.”

“We just want to make sure you don’t overtax yourself,” Alexi said.

“And, with everyone’s help, I won’t,” I said. I picked up the herbal tea and took a sip. “This is good, Yoshi – but, right now I’m going up to take a quick bath and get dressed. I’d really appreciate a pot of hot coffee waiting for me when I get back down here.” I started for the stairs and paused. “By the way, what time is it?”

“It’s almost two o’clock,” Simon said.

“That didn’t take as long as I thought,” I said in surprise. Everything had started around eleven o’clock.”

“That’s two in the afternoon,” Alexi said. “You’ve been pretty much out of it for about twelve hours.”

“In that case, I’d like a class of orange juice with my coffee and a soft boiled egg,” I said lightly. “I’d like Monk here when I get down – and have Steven standing by in the office waiting room. I want him available to me at five minutes notice. Make sure everyone has something to eat – that includes you two,” I added pointedly to Yoshi and Mackenzie. Somehow, I figured none of them had eaten properly since last night.

The hot bath – as quick as it was – did a lot to wash the lingering fatigue from my body. I dried quickly and brushed my hair before quickly dressing. I chose olive trousers and a nut-brown shirt with matching tie, and headed downstairs. Yoshi and Mackenzie were just finishing setting the table.

“Monk will be in as soon as you’ve finished eating,” Alexi said before I could complain about the security chief not being present yet. I nodded and started cracking my egg, noting with satisfaction that everyone else was eating a light repast as well.

Once I had finished eating and moved over to a wing chair, Alexi buzzed down to the office waiting room and asked that Monk come up. The large man arrived a few moments later and nodded greetings to everyone.

“How’d it go with those three mugs last night?” I asked, waving Monk to a chair.

“I shoulda followed ‘em,” Monk said with an ominous chuckle. “From wot Tom said, they was a sight t’ watch as they tried t’ hurry down the street as fast as possible. By the time they got back to the mini cab stand, they was ‘appy t’ see me sitting there.” Monk laughed. “Fuck, I didn’t even ‘ave to tell ‘em t’ drop their pants. Soon as they saw that cutter, they fell all over ‘emselves tearin’ their pants off.”

“Good – what color were their balls?” I asked.

“They was a nasty lookin’ blue,” Monk said. “Kind of splotchy deep blue ‘ere, lighter blue there.”

“Well, they made it back in time to at least keep their balls,” I said. “Good for them. What happened next?”

“Me an’ the boys slapped ‘em around a bit, showed ‘em the error of their ways,” Monk said. “I did wot yer said – except for broken noses, there wasn’t no broken bones. They’ll look like raccoons fer a coupla weeks an’ be sore in places they didn’t know they ‘ad. But, no bones was broke.”

“Monk, I’d like you to explain to Duncan how risky and foolish what he did last night was,” Alexi said before I could ask any more questions.

Monk regarded Alexi silently with blank eyes for a moment before shaking his smooth head. “I’d like t’,” he said. “’specially as how’s it yer asking me t’ do it. But, I can’t. What ‘e did was exactly the right thing.”

“Excuse me?” Alexi asked in amazement.

“Are you out of your mind?” Simon asked. For a brief moment, I was afraid that Simon was going to launch himself at the big man.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Monk continued. “An’ it’s not like I like seein’ ‘im get ‘urt like ‘e did. But, wot ‘e done was exactly the right thing.”

“Explain,” Alexi said doubtfully.

“Enyone can be a ‘ard case if they’re backed by muscle,” Monk explained. “’at don’t mean shit – it don’t mean ‘at person is a ‘ard case – it just means he’s got the muscle to enforce ‘is will. A real ‘ard case – a man wot demands respect just on account o’ who ‘e is will stand up toe t’ toe wiv someone wot’s threatenin’ ‘im. ‘At’s exactly what the boss done. The word’ll get out now – that wiv or wivout backup, Duncan Masters is the gun’nor o’ his manor. ‘E’ll be respected because o’ who ‘e is, and not who ‘e’s got backin’ ‘im up.”

“Damn,” Alexi exclaimed. “I hate to admit it, but Monk’s right.”

“It’s what I tried to say last night,” I said. “By the time the word gets out, not even Scanlon will try anything against us.”

“Scanlon?” Alexi asked.

“Sure, that old bastard might play nice-nice Mr. Legitimate, but the truth is he’s still every bit the ruthless gangster he was twenty years ago,” I said. “He remembers that your family was pushed out of London once. He needed to see if Manchester was tough enough to brace me this time out. Those three thugs of Manchester’s will spread the word that I’m no pushover, and it will get back to Scanlon.” I helped myself to another cup of coffee. “I’d be surprised if he doesn’t already know what happened here last night.”

Alexi stood up in shock. “You cunning bastard,” he said softly. “Are you planning to go after Scanlon?”

“No,” I shook my head. “The truth is that I plan to leave him alone and maintain a good business relationship with him if I can. If not, I want him – and especially his thugs – to wonder whether it’s worth all the effort of making a move against us here. With any luck, what happened last night – and what’s going to happen to the brothers Manchester will convince Scanlon that going up against us just isn’t worth the effort.”

Monk looked around. “I ‘ate what ‘appened to Duncan,” he said. “But, he made a name fer himself last night – ‘e’s a ‘ard case who ain’t t’ be fucked around wiv.”

“Okay, enough of that,” I said. “Tell me about Steven last night, Monk.”

The big man shrugged. “Ain’t much t’ tell, Manchester’s little bruvver pulled a shooter and pointed it straight at yer. I was already movin’ and when this black streak passes me. The git turns t’ face Steven and Steven got one hand on th’ gun an’ pushed it down and used ‘is free hand like a hammer and knocked the little git silly.”

Alexi nodded. “I didn’t see everything, but I did catch Steven taking little Manchester down,” he said.

“So, he saved my life – anyone doubt that?”

“I’d say yer hit it right on t’ head,” Monk said.

“I agree,” Alexi said.

I nodded. “Get him in here.”

Mackenzie slipped from the flat and returned in just a few moments with Steven, who was looking very nervous. He looked around, and immediately assumed the slave rest position.

“According to the stripe on your collar, you sold voluntarily sold yourself into slavery, Steven,” I said. “What’s the story behind that?”

“Uh,” he shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, his eyes darting around. “It’s um, pretty much the usual stuff.”

“Don’t give me that shit!” I snapped. “I asked you a question and expect an answer.”

“I got in some trouble when I was a teen,” Steven said, his voice quavering. “I got in way over my head and kinda got someone else mixed up in it. This was the only way to get her clear.”

“That’s nice for the Reader’s Digest condensed version,” I said. “But, I want everything.”

Steven threw his head back and rolled his eyes, forgetting himself for a moment. When he faced me, there were tears in his eyes. “Do you have any idea what’s it’s like to be a gay teenager in Kansas?”

I shook my head in slight amusement. “Can’t say that I do – never having been in Kansas. What’s it like?”

“It’s like living in a world of shit – you’re afraid of getting found out – afraid of your friends, schoolmates, and worst of all – your parents,” he said.

“And your father found out,” Alexi said.

Steven nodded. “Yeah, he beat the shit out of me and threw me out of the house – he said that I was dead to him,” Steven said, tears starting to trickle down his face. I glanced over at Yoshi and nodded towards the chair nearest Steven. The Japanese slave moved immediately to guide Steven to the chair and pushed him down into it. “I laid in the yard crying and bleeding for I don’t know how long. Then, my mom came out. I thought she was going to tell me to come back in the house – I thought she was going to make everything right with my dad and me. Instead, she threw some of my things at me – said she didn’t want that faggot stuff in her house.”

“How old were you?” I asked.

“Fifteen,” Steven said. “One of the things my mom threw on the ground was a wooden jewelry box that I kept pictures and personal stuff in. My bankbook was in there. I took that and left everything else. I cleaned out my bank account – I had a couple thousand dollars in there that I was saving for a car and took off.”

“To New York City,” I guessed.

“Yeah – I didn’t know where else to go and there was this poster of New York next to the ticket window at the Greyhound station. I figured it was as good a place as any for a fag teenager.” Steven ran a hand over his short hair and rambled on. “I got a room at the Y on 34th Street. I found that if I lied about my age, I could get some work waiting tables in little greasy spoon late night diners – not much, but enough to pay the fees at the Y. Sometimes these older guys would hit on me – offer me money if I let them blow me, or money for me to blow them.”

“Typical,” Alexi said softly. We both knew that a lot of the younger slaves started like that.

“Yeah, I guess,” Steven admitted. “Anyway, one night this guy asked if I could dance. I thought he was asking me out on a date to a club, y’know? He took me to a sleazy club all right – but he wasn’t interested in dancing with me. He had me strip in front of him and a couple other guys and dance for them. Next thing I knew, I was in this grimy little bathroom and they were shaving my body and gave me this these tiny bikini briefs and smearing oil all over me.”

“You started dancin’ ‘at night?” Monk asked incredulously.

“That’s the way they work it,” Alexi said. “Get them hooked before they can back out.” He turned to Steven. “They gave you drugs,” he said. It was a flat statement and not a question.

“Just poppers that night,” Steven admitted, his face turning deep red. “But, I’d never had them before and my head was like a big balloon. Once they had me all prepped, they took me out to the club floor – there wasn’t even a stage and then this spotlight went on and they told me to start dancing. All these guys were hooting and pulling at me and I just started wriggling around.”

“And they started shoving money into your briefs,” I said.

“Uh huh,” Steven admitted. “Even though they took most of that money, they still left me even more than I was making at the diner. After that, things just kind of got out of hand. I went back to the club again and again and it wasn’t long before I was making some decent money – even after they took their cut.”

“So what happened to make you seek slavery?” Alexi asked.

“I moved from poppers to get a thrill to pills and then coke,” Steven shook his head, the tears flowing. “I don’t know how it started or even when, really. But, it got bad and fast. There was this one older guy – he was like thirty-five or forty and he kinda became my friend. He found me in the alley one night – shit, I was messed up. He took me to his place and fed me and stayed with me until I was pretty straight that day. One thing led to another and he became my friend – my only friend in the city. He tried to get me off the drugs – by that time I was blowing all my money on shit to get me high. He even moved me into his apartment.”

“Did you keep working at the club?” I asked.

“No – he convinced me to stay away from there,” Steven replied. “He tried to get me off the drugs, and for a week or so I thought I could kick it.”

“But, yer couldn’t,” Monk said, shaking his head.

“So when he was out working, I started going back to the club and they were fixing me up – I thought they were being nice to me. Then, they told me I owed them almost twenty thousand bucks and if I didn’t pay up they’d bust me up and then go after Charlie – that was the older guy’s name – Charlie. I could pay up by dancing for them again and letting them pimp me out. I told Charlie everything and he said that I wasn’t doing that stuff. He’d figure a way out.”

“It don’ work ‘at way,” Monk said flatly.

“No, it didn’t,” Steven admitted. “A couple of guys showed up one day and smashed up Charlie’s apartment and slapped him around. They didn’t do much to me – they said there were told not to mark me up. They said I either paid up – by then, they had jacked the price up to almost thirty thousand bucks – or do what the guys at the club wanted. If I didn’t, they said they’d be back and fix it so Charlie never walked again.”

“Okay, we know now how you got in over your head,” I said. “What made you decide to sell yourself?”

“This guy I kinda knew told me about this special private club,” Steven said.

“We have an operation in New York,” Alexi added.

“I didn’t think much about it when he first told me about it,” Steven said. “But, looking at Charlie’s face – they blackened both his eyes and broke his nose – I just suddenly remembered that place and went there. I don’t know what I was thinking – I guess I figured I could offer to work there and get an advance or something. After getting into the club – and that wasn’t easy – this guy gave me my options. Get the hell out and work things out on my own, or sell myself to the club as a slave. He said they’d have to spend a shit load of money to get me off of drugs, looking decent again, and pay off my debt to those pimps. He said that was more money than I’d ever be able to pay off. I just lost it – I started crying and saying how Charlie’s life was in danger unless I got those guys off my back. That’s when he offered me a chance to sell myself to the club.”

“And you took it,” I said.

“Yeah and Dominic – that’s the Family’s man in New York – he did everything he said he would,” Steven said. “They got me cleaned up and paid off my debts.” Steven spread his hands. “And well, here I am.”

“Are you sorry you made the choice?” I asked.

Steven looked confused and then actually managed a weak smile. “That’s the funny thing – at first I was a little bit. I mean, I was happy that Charlie was going to be okay, but couldn’t imagine what was going to happen to me. Then, after I was clean – I was happy I’d done it. I mean, I was treated right – sure, I got caned a couple times and whipped. But, there were clear rules. You do you job and follow the rules and you don’t get punished. For the first time in my life I began to like myself.”

“You saved my life last night when you wrestled that gun away from Manchester’s brother,” I said.

“Nah, not really,” Steven protested. “I just did what I was supposed to do. To tell you the truth, I didn’t even realize the guy had pulled a gun.”

“Bullshit!” Monk spat. “First fing outta ‘is mouth – ‘e shouted ‘GUN!’ an’ went straight fer it.”

“Steven, lying is a very serious offense for a slave, you know,” Alexi said firmly.

“I-I didn’t mean any harm,” Steven cried out. “I just didn’t want to seem like I was making too much out of a little thing.”

“Keeping me from being shot is a little thing?” I asked.

Steven looked around the room confused and frightened. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, then he hung his head.

“Having a slave lie calls for immediate action,” Alexi said his eyes twinkling and the dimples at the edges of his mouth deepening slightly.

“Yes, sir – it certainly does,” Yoshi added, taking his clue from Alexi. “And, if I might add, a slave claiming that your life is a little thing is a serious breach of the rules.”

Mackenzie, shaking his head in disbelief, rushed up to me. “But, you can give him a break,” he cried. His whole body was trembling with fear at standing up to me. “I mean, he saved your life – even you said so. Doesn’t that count for something? You can’t punish him.”

Before I could reprimand Mackenzie, Simon dropped to his knees in front of me. He started to plead Steven’s case and then saw the expression in my eyes and closed his mouth with a snap, took my hand in both of his and kissed it.

“Yoshi, get Steven’s collar off of him,” I ordered. “He’s no longer entitled to wear it.” Steven’s head jerked up, his eyes round with fear as Yoshi unbuckled the collar and removed it from the bodyguard’s neck. “On you feet, Steven,” I said, rising. To my surprise, as I rose, tears began flowing down Mackenzie’s face. I ignored him and approached Steven and took his hand in mine. “You risked your life and saved mine,” I said. “All debts are paid. You’re a free man again,” I said.

“Th-th-thank you,” Steven stammered; looking around in confusion as Alexi, Eric, Simon, Yoshi, and Monk crowded around him, hands reaching out to congratulate him. “But, wh-what’s going to happen to me now? I don’t want to leave here. I mean, I don’t know anything else – I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Who said you have to leave?” I said with a smile. “There are plenty of jobs for someone with your skills. Go get some clothes on and come back here – we’ll talk about arranging some living quarters and salary for you. Go on,” I said. “Yoshi, go with him and get him fitted out.”

“It’s my pleasure, sir,” Yoshi said, grinning like a fool.

I turned to Mackenzie, who still had tears running down his face. “And now for you,” I said. “It took some real courage to speak to me like that.” I pulled him into my arms and stroked his head. “I don’t want you making a habit of that, but I admire that you risked punishment to stand up for someone else.” I kissed the top of his head. “Now, get upstairs and clean yourself up – you look a fright.”

While we were waiting for Yoshi to return with Steven, Alexi pulled me to one side. “Have you given any thought to what position you’re going to give Steven?” Alexi asked.

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t,” I admitted. “I’m really in uncharted waters here. But, what else could I do?”

“There wasn’t anything else you could do,” Alexi admitted. “It’s rare for a slave to earn his freedom like that, but it has happened before.” Alexi stared into the distance. “You know, Steven has been trained as a bodyguard and security slave. We’ve got a chief of security in Monk for the public club. I think Steven might make an excellent security liaison between the public and private clubs.”

“That would be perfect for him,” I grinned. “He’ll need a place to live, though.”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that,” Alexi said. “Well, not specifically in Steven’s terms. But, I’ve been thinking about the warehouse next door. It’s not going to quite fit in with the rest of the block here.”

“I know, that’s bothered me, too,” I admitted.

“We could convert it into a local arts gallery – you know, stalls selling supplies and areas to display local talent.”

“And convert the upper floors into flats for our people,” I said.

“It would solve several problems in one fell swoop,” Alexi said. “After all, Konrad, Brigitta, Sam, and Diana all need places to live.”

“Then, let’s go for it.”

When Yoshi brought Steven back, the former slave was grinning bashfully, but looked uncomfortable fully dressed for the first time in years. Yoshi had fitted Steven out in black jeans and a loose-fitting Rugby shirt. He was flabbergasted at the position and salary I offered him, and squeezed my hand so hard that it hurt as he enthusiastically thanked me while swearing that he’d make me proud of my decision.

After sending word to Ingo that I wanted the club dining room opened and ready for a celebration, I had Steven accompany me to the detention cells. I had the former slave arrange to have two bodyguards waiting outside the cell when I stopped by the control room to pick up a stun gun. When I suggested that Steven choose a stun gun for himself, he timidly asked if I minded if he took a cattle prod instead. Smiling, I reminded him that it was totally his choice now.

When we entered the cell, Manchester quickly rolled off the bunk and greeted me with oily charm. “Okay, okay – we got off on the wrong foot, yeh? So now we call it even, right, and start over again, yeh? Wot ‘appened ‘ere last night and wot you did t’ poor Sid cancel each other out, right?”

“Wrong,” I said coldly.

“Look, yew reely can’t figure a cut on the face is like the same as cuttin’ off a bloke’s bollocks, right?” Manchester wheedled.

“First, I didn’t cut Snell’s balls off,” I said. “Besides cutting me, you smashed a custom made stained glass door panel – that cost nearly twelve thousand pounds….”

“Yew can’t deny that ol’ Sid ‘ad to be castrated because o’ wot yew done,” Manchester interrupted.

“Wrong. You’re the reason that slimy creep was castrated,” I said. “Instead of cutting the band off yourself, or even taking Snell to the Casualty Ward, you took him to Dr. Aziz. Even I know that Aziz is nothing but a drunken back alley abortionist. You had to wait until Aziz was sober enough to treat Snell – and by then, it was too late. You’re the one who sent Snell to try to shake me down – that was a mistake. He was rude and made the mistake of putting his hands on me. He got what he deserved.”

“Okay, okay – maybe I made a mistake in sendin’ Snell ‘round, yeh,” Manchester grudgingly admitted. “So, look – I’m willin’ t’ pay fer the damages t’ yer door, right? That’ll make things right, yeh?”

“No, no it won’t,” I said coldly. “I might have been willing to overlook almost everything else. But, your gang brought a gun here last night. If Steven here hadn’t been so quick to react, I’d have a bullet in me. That’s something I won’t overlook.”

“No way,” Manchester protested. “I tol’ ‘em all not to bring any shooters wiv ‘em.”

“Seems that your little brother didn’t get the message,” I said.

“Reg?” Manchester’s face fell. “Look, ‘e was wrong. I always tell all the lads – no shooters, not ever. Still, there wasn’t no ‘arm done – we can come to a understandin’.”

“No deals, no arrangements, and no understandings are possible at this point,” I said coldly.

Manchester decided to try another line of reasoning and mustered up his remaining courage. “Yew ‘ave any fuckin’ idea who’s behind me?” He demanded. “I’m protected, yeh. Yew didn’t fink about ‘at, didja?”

“What? You don’t mean Scanlon, do you?” I laughed. “Who do you think gave you over to me?”

All the blood drained from Manchester’s face. “Nah – ‘at can’t be,” he said without any conviction as the truth sank in.

“Get used to it,” I said. “He gave you up for a better deal with me. And now, I own you.” I turned to Steven. “Have him taken down to the dungeon.”

Steven grinned. “It’ll be my pleasure, sir.” He opened the door and called the bodyguards in.

Manchester screamed and tried to fight off the large, muscular slaves, but he really wasn’t any match for them. They easily overpowered him and dragged him from the holding cell, screaming and begging.

From the look on Reggie Manchester’s face, the cells weren’t soundproof – he had clearly heard his brother’s screams as the bodyguards dragged him away. He shifted easily from foot to foot as I stared silently at him. He was about eighteen or nineteen slightly built and stood about 5’4” tall. His blond hair was razor cut in a textured Caesar style that now stood up in all directions. A large bruise covered his right temple, testament to the power behind Steven’s punch.

“My bruvver….” He started.

“Isn’t going to be of any help to you at all,” I interrupted coldly. I moved close to him and ran my fingers up the side of his smooth, boyish face. “You brought a gun into my club and aimed it at me,” I said. “That little mistake is going to cost you more than you ever imagined.” I ran my thumb along his mouth, tracing his pink lips. The gesture brought a flush of color to Reggie’s face. He closed his eyes in shame and for the first time I noticed how long and curling his lashes were. I could tell that Reggie wasn’t any stranger to having a man trace the delicate lines of his face. “What do you think, Steven?”

“I think he’s got some experience,” Steven said from behind me.

“Oh, I think you’re right,” I said. I ran my hand up along his jaw line until I reached his ear and stroked it gently for a few moments. Without warning, I grabbed his ear and gave it a twist, bringing him to his knees. “What the fuck was going through your fucking mind, bringing a gun here?” I screamed into his contorted face. “Were you trying to prove that you had a set of balls between your legs? Did you really think bringing a gun here was going to prove to your brother that you were a man?” I released his ear and turned to Steven. “Rip those rags off that little prick.”

Steven handed me the cattle prod and approached Reggie with a feral grin on his face. Reggie tried to crawl away, but the former slave grabbed him by the collar of his cheap suit jacket and began tossing him around the room like a rag doll as he ripped Reggie’s clothes to shreds. Steven took his time ripping all of Reggie’s clothes from his body. When he had the young man naked, he reached down and grabbed a handful of Reggie’s blond hair, dragging him to his feet. Reggie tried to cover his crotch with his hands, Steven slapped the gangster’s hands away and revealed that Reggie’s groin was shaved bare.

“Interesting look you have going there,” I said. Besides being shaved smooth, Reggie’s genitals were small and clearly a source of embarrassment for him. Steven shoved Reggie towards the door and retrieved the cattle prod from me.

“We’re going for a little walk, punk,” Steven said. “Give me any shit and I’ll use the cattle prod to fry your dick off.”

I hung back and watched as Steven guided the naked young man through the various corridors. Reggie repeatedly tried to cover his groin with his hands. Each time he did, Steven sharply reminded him to remove his hands from his crotch. He reached between Reggie’s legs a couple of times and prodded him with the cattle prod, but didn’t activate it to shock the young gangster. The touch of the cold contacts was enough of a scare to bring the young man into line. Reggie tried to walk hunched over with his knees pressed together, which Steven immediately put an end with more threats of the prod. By the time we reached the dungeon corridor, Reggie was openly sobbing and making promises of retribution from him big brother.

Entering the dungeon, the three of us stopped dead in our tracks. It was the first time I had actually been in the chamber and was awe-struck at how well the work had turned out. A set designer from Pinewood Studios had been brought in to design the dungeon rooms and he had out done himself. Torches with artificial flames lined the smooth stone walls. Recessed lighting in the ribbed ceiling could be adjusted to make the room as dim or as light as required. Two, heavy wooden tables, each fitted with thick restraint straps dominated the room. The tables could be cranked to horizontal or vertical positions, as the situation required. Barry was already strapped to one table – a padded bit gag between his teeth, making his cries unintelligible and at the sight of his naked little brother being led into the room, Barry was doing his best to scream and shout.

The two bodyguards appeared from the depth of the shadows at the far end of the room to take charge of Reggie. He hardly put up any resistance as they dragged him over to the other table and went to work strapping him down. Snot ran from Reggie’s nose as he bawled and begged not to be tortured.

“Gag him,” I ordered. “He’s giving me a headache.” I ambled over to Barry’s table and began stroking his chest, running my fingers through the thick mat of reddish hair that covered it. Barry continued to try to speak while jerking his head in his brother’s direction. “He’s cute isn’t he?” I asked gently. “He’s got such sweet lips and those long – almost girlish eyelashes. Even his little dick seems just right for him, don’t you think?” I turned to Steven. “What about you, Steven, what do you think about little Reggie there?”

“I agree – he is cute,” Steven said with feeling staring down at the young man bound to the table.

“See?” I said to Barry. “We all seem to agree that he’s cute.” I lowered my voice conspiratorially. “Just between you and me – I don’t think he’s a stranger to sucking cock. I mean, I had my suspicions from the moment that I got a good look at him. But, when I saw those shaved pubes – I was pretty sure he’s sucked dick before. And, I’ll be he’s been buggered, too.” I brushed Barry’s long hair off his face, tucking the stray lock behind his right ear. “What I really wonder though, who fucked that sweet face and ass first.” I stared down into Barry’s hazel green eyes. “Was it you? Did you feel those sweet lips around your hard cock and turn him into the cock-sucking boy that he is today?”

Barry shook his head, shouting violently behind the bit gag.

“I think that means ‘NO’,” Steven pointed out.

“Then we need to correct that oversight,” I said, ignoring Barry’s renewed muffled shouts. I patted Barry’s face softly. “I think I’ll make you wait for a while before we get Reggie to show you what a good cocksucker he is. The anticipation will make the experience more intense for you. In the meantime, just stare at your little brother and imagine how good his hot mouth is going to feel to you.”

I nodded for Steve to join me as we headed from the room. Before I left, however, I motioned for the two guards to join me in the corridor where I ordered them to shave Barry totally smooth from the neck down.

I took Steven down to a Master’s waiting room down the corridor. The room was fitted with comfortable padded chairs, a drink machine – which Scanlon didn’t know about, small refrigerator, and a coffee maker. To my surprise, I found Simon and Mackenzie waiting in the room – a pot of freshly brewed coffee already made, and a small tray of snacks.

“I thought you might want to take a break,” Simon said. “And, I know what a coffee fiend you are.”

“Did you know?” I asked smiling as I pressed close to Simon and kissed him.

“A-and I wanted to apologize again for the way I behaved before,” Mackenzie stuttered.

“You behaved exquisitely earlier,” I said, pulling the slave close to me and stroking his face. “Stop being ashamed. You did the right thing. Now, pour me a mug of coffee and when you’ve served the others, I want you to sit down and relax.”

Mackenzie’s face light up with delight as he hurried to carry out my instructions. He brought me my coffee just the way I liked it – light cream and sugar. Simon had clearly been coaching him. Once the others had their refreshments, Mackenzie nervously took a seat in one of the padded chairs.

I sipped my coffee and regarded Steven over the rim of the mug. “So,” I said lowering the mug. “You think little Reggie is cute.”

“Well, he is,” Steven said blushing.

“I’ve been watching the monitors,” Simon said. “He is kind of cute. He’s got such a boyish face and build.”

“And a little boy’s dick,” Mackenzie said. He snapped his mouth closed and looked around in embarrassment at speaking so frankly.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” I laughed. “You’re right – he does have a little boy’s dick, and he is boyishly cute.” I glanced over at Steven. “I think that’s what’s got Steven so turned on.” Steven glanced around shyly and blushed again. “Okay, Steven – test time. What should be done with our cute little Reggie?”

Steven stared into his coffee mug, his forehead furrowed in concentration. “I’d have him nullified.”

“Really – why?”

“Because of the gun,” Steven answered. “You were right – he brought the gun to prove to his brother what a big man he really is. I think it’s clear that Barry protects him like a good big brother – but, I’ll bet that he doesn’t have much respect for Reggie as a man.”

“And for that reason you’d have him nullified?” I asked.

“Well, that’s one reason,” Steven replied, shifting in his chair.

“There’s more?”

“Yeah – you saw the way he was dressed, the stylish way he had his hair styled,” Steven answered. “I can promise you that Reggie spends hours and hours styling and profiling in the mirror. He’s got bad taste in clothes, but he’s a fashion doll. He likes to play dress-up”

“So you’d turn him into a living doll,” Simon said. “Wizard idea.”

I nodded in agreement. “Good solid reasoning,” I said. “I’m impressed. What else?”

Steven began to relax. “Well … I’d have him given a Mohawk,” he said. “Leave him a stripe of hair that could be styled and dyed, but only in an extreme way.”

I glanced over at Mackenzie who was looking eagerly at Steven and remembered how excited he’d been back in Basel when he watched John have his head shaved. I nodded. “I think that could be arranged,” I said. I turned to Mackenzie. “What about it? Do you think you could do the job properly?”

“M-m-me?” Mackenzie stuttered, looking at me with surprise in his blue eyes.

“Yes – you,” I replied with a smile. “I know it excites you. It’s about time you started earning your keep. So, could you do it?”

“I-I think so,” Mackenzie said breathlessly. “Yes, I could. Probably not as good and stylish a job as Konrad could do, but I could do it.”

“Okay, then the job’s all yours,” I said. I faced Steven. “And, once I finish with him, Reggie is all yours – providing, of course, that you can train him properly as a slave.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Well, a man in your position should have a slave available to him,” I said.

Simon nodded. “He’s right, Steven.”

“What are you going to do with him?” Steven asked.

“First, I’m going to make him suck his brother’s dick,” I said. “Then, I’m going to make him experience some pain as punishment for intending to shoot me. After that, he’s yours.” I checked my watch. “Come on – Barry’s had enough time to fret.”

Returning to the dungeon cell, we found that the bodyguards had already finished their job of shaving Barry’s body – and they’d done a good job of it. I ran my fingers along Barry’s body and found it like satin without any trace of stubble at all. They had even raised the table to its full upright position. Barry glowered at me as I stroked his now smooth chest and torso. I had the bodyguards remove the gag.

Barry worked his mouth around to ease his aching facial muscles. “Yew are a real bastard,” he spat. “Getting’ yer nut off, are yew?”

“No, but you will be shortly,” I smiled. “But, watch your language. I don’t like it.”

“Fuck yew!”

I shook my head sadly and walked over to Reggie’s table, pulling the stun gun from my pocket. Adjusting it to its lowest setting, I activated it and touched the device to Reggie’s balls. The young hood screamed behind his ball gag and jerked around as much as his bonds would allow.

“Stop it! Stop it! Don’ ‘urt im, no more!” Barry screamed from the other table.

“The choice is yours, Barry,” I said reasonably. “You should know that when you misbehave in here that poor little Reggie’s going to be the one who suffers.”

“Yew bastard – leave ‘im alone,” Barry snarled.

Shrugging, I activated the stun gun and once again. Tears streaming down his face, Reggie slowly shook his head from side to side as I moved the device slowly closer. He jerked and writhed as I touched the device to his testicles and held it there a bit longer than the last time.

“Okay, okay – yew win,” Barry cried from the other table. “I give up.”

I turned to face Barry. “That might be true,” I said activating the device again, letting Barry see the spark dance between the electrodes. “But, you haven’t said the magic words.”

Barry’s face went blank as he tried to figure out my meaning. Shrugging again, I turned to his brother. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he screamed suddenly. “Is that what you want? I’m sorry.”

I slipped the stun gun back into my pocket and went back to Barry. I stroked his face. “That’s better,” I said. “Now, that wasn’t hard at all – you did very well. So, I think it’s time for you to get a special reward.” I motioned for Steven and the bodyguards to unstrap Reggie and bring him over to Barry’s table.

“Ow, few gawd’s sake,” Barry whined. “Don’t do this. I’ve learned my lesson – ‘at’s wot yew want t’ ‘ear, ain’t it?”

I ignored him and turned to face Reggie. Steven was standing behind the young gangster, holding a fistful of Reggie’s hair. “Now, your brother deserves a reward for learning his lesson so well and apologizing for his rude language. You’re going to give him that reward.”

“Please don’ make me do ‘at,” Reggie sobbed. “It ain’t right.”

“We already know that you’re a cocksucker,” I said, ignoring his feeble protest. “Now get on your knees and show your big brother how good you are. You’re going to get him off and swallow every drop of his juice.” Reggie whined and tried to shake his head. “If you don’t do exactly as you’re told – RIGHT NOW – then, I’m going to have Barry’s balls cut off while you watch.”

Reggie dropped to his knees and reluctantly took his brother’s whole flaccid penis into his mouth. His blond head began bobbing back and forth as he frantically sucked away. It didn’t take long before Barry was groaning against his will and growing erect. Slobber ran down Reggie’s chin as he sucked his brother’s dick. Tears welled up in Barry’s eyes even while involuntary moans of pleasure started coming from his mouth. To everyone’s surprise, Reggie was making mewling sounds of pleasure as he continued to work his head back and forth.

“Shit!” Steven exclaimed in amusement. “He’s enjoying himself.”

“Of course he is,” I said. “He probably wanted to give his brother a blow job for years – he just never had the opportunity.”

It wasn’t long before all of Barry’s protests died out and gave way to heavy breathing and sighs of mounting ecstasy. He began to tremble and quiver all over as Reggie brought him closer and closer to the edge. Barry’s hips began to buck and shake as he filled his bother’s mouth with his load. Reggie didn’t let a single drop of man juice escape his lips. He continued sucking even after Barry went limp in his bonds. Steven had to pull him back. It was only then that Reggie hung his head in shame.

“W-wh-where are yew takin’ Reg?” Barry gasped as Steven pulled him towards the chamber door.

“His job here is done,” I said. “You don’t want him to stay in this dungeon, do you?”

“Yer lettin’ ‘im go, yeh?” Barry pleaded.

I patted his face. “Try to get some rest – you’re going to need it,” I promised.

Out in the hall, Reggie was looking around in fear. “Wot’re yew gonna do wiv me?” He begged.

“That’s really none of your business,” I said.

Konrad and Brigitta were waiting in the dungeon barbershop along with Simon and Mackenzie, who was trying hard to keep a broad, eager grin from his face. Reggie looked around frightened as Steven took him directly to the barber chair and strapped him in.

“I hope you don’t mind us being here,” Konrad said. “But, I’d really like to see my little protégé’s official debut.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I laughed. “I was going to invite you and Brigitta down as it was – she’s going to have some work to do soon.”

Brigitta looked around in interest. “What do you have in mind?” She asked, coming up next to me. “Inking, piercing?”

“Branding,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I want the word ‘SLAVE’ branded across his belly just above his navel.”

Brigitta grinned with anticipation, looking at Reggie’s naked form in the chair. “Oh yes, that will suit him so well.” She turned back to face me. “What about a Prince Albert through that little dick of his?”

“It would be a waste of time,” I said.

“You don’t mean….” Brigitta asked.

“Smooth as a doll,” I nodded. I glanced over towards Mackenzie who was already running a comb through Reggie’s hair, combing the top forward and the sides and back straight down. “I think Mackenzie is about ready to start.”

The young slave set the comb down and selected the clippers he intended to use. He clamped his left hand on the top of Reggie’s head and forced it to the right. He flicked the clippers on and placed them just below Reggie’s short sideburn before pushing the clippers straight up the left side of the young gangster’s head. Reggie whimpered and moaned a little as clumps of his hair tumbled down onto his bare shoulder and lap, but otherwise kept quiet.

I stood behind Simon, my arms draped around his shoulders, hugging him tightly against my chest. He reached up with both arms and placed his hands behind my head. Bending my neck, I accepted his invitation, licking his neck and nibbling on his right ear as we both watched Mackenzie at work.

“He’s pretty good,” Simon whispered to me.

“You think so?”

“Oh yes,” Simon said.

“I’m glad you think so,” I murmured, nuzzling his ear. “Because Mackenzie’s going to give you your next haircut.”

“Um … okay,” Simon replied after a slight pause.

Mackenzie took his time as he worked. He had both sides of Reggie’s head buzzed to stubble, and was painstakingly working on the top of his subject’s head to create a perfect two-inch wide swath over the top of Reggie’s head. Every now and then, he’d step back and examine his work before making an adjustment here or there. Finally, he turned off the clippers and began lathering the denuded sides of Reggie’s head. I noticed that he chose a safety razor rather than the straight razor that Konrad normally used. I nodded approvingly – Mackenzie knew his limitations, which impressed me. He finished with the razor and wiped Reggie’s head dry before coming over to stand in front of us.

“Excellent job,” I said. “I’m impressed.

“It’s perfect,” Konrad agreed, tousling Mackenzie’s hair. “You did good work.”

“Thanks,” Mackenzie blushed. “Um … how much leeway do I have?”

“Is there something you have in mind?” I asked.

“Well – in his case, I think there should be a couple of finishing touches,” Mackenzie said shyly. “I ah, I think he’d look better without any eyebrows for one thing.”

“And the other?” Konrad asked.

“Well, he’s already had his hair highlighted,” Mackenzie explained. “But, I think he should have some real color added.”

“I’ve been teaching Mackenzie bleaching and coloring,” Konrad said, leaning closer to me. “I think I’ve created a monster.”

“Steve?” I asked. “What do you think?”

Steve stared at Reggie, who was looking very morose. “I think Mackenzie is right – he would look better with some color.”

I smiled. “You heard the man,” I said. “We’ll all go down to the waiting room where we were before. When you’re finished, have two bodyguards bring him down there.” I placed my hand on Mackenzie’s shoulder. “Do not try bringing him along by yourself,” I said firmly. “He might seem docile, but he’s not trained yet. He’s not to be moved without a bodyguard. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Mackenzie replied.

While we were waiting for Mackenzie to finish his work, Simon noticed that I kept wincing and reaching up to touch the bandage taped to my face. He offered to have Sam come down with some painkillers. An offer which I refused. I’d get them later, but I really didn’t want my mind clouded even a little bit until after Mackenzie presented Reggie to us. Simon took up a position behind my chair and slowly massaged my neck as if the laying on of his hands could chase the pain away. It didn’t, but it did manage to take my mind off the constant throbbing in my face.

It was nearly two hours later when the door opened and Mackenzie entered with the newly transformed Reggie. Two muscular bodyguards stood in the doorway. As far as I was concerned, the young slave had outdone himself – he had turned the two-inch wide strip of hair remaining to Reggie from highlighted blond to a brilliant, electric blue. Reggie’s hair had been heavily waxed so that it stood straight up from the top of his head.

The praise from all of us was unanimous – Mackenzie had done a fantastic job. Only Reggie didn’t seem to be in agreement.

“What’s the matter Reg?” I asked, using his brother’s nickname for him.

“I’m goin’ t’ ‘ave t’ shave my ‘ead before goin’ out in public again,” Reggie complained. “An’ wait fer my eyebrows t’ grow back in – otherwise I’ll look a right git.”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” I said. “None of your friends will think that you’re a git,” I promised him. “Of course, it’s unlikely that any of them will ever see you. You’re not leaving here, you see. Not tomorrow, not next week, not ever.”

“Wot d’ yer mean, I don’t understand,” Reggie complained.

“It’s simple,” I said. “The minute you pulled that gun, you committed yourself. You’re going to stay here as a slave – forever.” I motioned to the bodyguards. “Take him to a holding cell. We’ll finish his modifications tomorrow.”

“Modifications? Wot d’ yer mean?” Reggie cried.

“You’ll see,” I promised. “You’ll see.”

To be continued….