First – Previous – Landing Page – Next
đ
âNow you know half of it.â Timaios leaned back, searching Ctiradâs face. âAnd, yes, thatâs a fairly common reaction. Although you donât seem like youâre awed by my money.â
âWhy should I be, sir?â Ctirad cleared his throat. âI mean. You have money for yourself, not for your toys – except to buy them.â
âIf youâre not careful,â Timaios warned, âIâm going to take certain words away from you.â
âSir?â Ctirad searched Timaiosâ face, but could find nothing helpful there.
âI am not particularly fond of my Kept referring to themselves as toys. Youâre Mine, yes. That does not make you something to be put in a box when Iâm bored.â
Ctirad swallowed. âExperiences differ, sir,â he said as politely as he knew how.
âIâm beginning to get that impression. However, you are not my toy. You Belong to me. That is different.â
Ctirad wanted to ask how, but heâd already pushed his owner too far. âYes, sir.â
âAre you ready for the next part of this little show-and-tell?â
âAs you will, sir.â He had no idea how to be ready or now or how that would change anything.
âSal?â
âWorkings are up, sir. We can see them but they canât see us.â
âVery good, thank you.â He shook his head once, and his Mask dropped.
Ctirad took a careful moment to take in the changes, his expression set at âneutral waitingâ. His Owner was⌠he was still the same man. That was the first thing he noticed. âSame chin, same cheekbones,â he muttered, mostly to himself, but so his Owner knew he was processing. âThe tusksâve got to be interesting.â The tusks curved downward; there were horns curving upward. The whole visage had a slightly grey, stony tint to it.
Timaios snorted, when it became clear that was all Ctirad was going to say. âThatâs it?â
Ctirad looked up, meeting his Ownerâs eyes. âDoes the stone look go all the way down?â
He surprised a laugh out of Timaios and a squeak-like noise out of Sal. âYouâre either a good faker or impressive.â
âLittle of both, sir. Iâm not freaked out by the whole thing, if thatâs what you mean. But I see how people would be.â
He didnât know if it was the right answer, but he kept running into situations here where Timaios didnât want the ârightâ answer anyway, so he figured honesty was his best bet.
Timaios raised his eyebrows. âTempted to ask whatâs under your Mask.â
âI Belong to you, sir. You can tell me to do anything you want.â
âIâm beginning to understand that that is your very polite way of saying âno way in hell without an orderâ, isnât it?â
âYes, sir. But itâs also the truth.â
âIt is, yes.â His hand felt the same on Ctiradâs face as it had before. His Mask went up as he reached out to Ctirad, and some discomfort seemed to leave him with the reappearance of his public face. âI will ask you for your face behind your Mask. But I will wait until we are alone.â
He couldnât argue with that. He couldnât really argue with anything. âThank you, sir.â Maybe if he was sufficiently distracting, his new Owner would forget about that.
âSpeaking of âaloneâ, Sal, how long until weâre there?â
âThree minutes, sir. But i can do a pretty good Ignore the Back Seat Working on myself, too.â
âNo, thatâs not needed. I can wait three minutes. Thank you, Sal.â Timaiosâ hand moved down to Ctiradâs knee and rested there. âWeâll get you settled in and then eat dinner in my room, I think,â he mused in Ctiradâs general direction. âAnd Iâll have Honore take your measurements and get you some new clothes. If Iâm going to have you at my side in public, youâre going to have to look like you belong there.â
Clothes didnât matter, as long as he could move in them. âYes, sir.â He remembered, vaguely, having an opinion on such things once. He wondered if heâd left that back with his favorite color.
âAnd then, maybeâŚâ Timaiosâ hand slid up to Ctiradâs thigh, âyou can tell me what you really think of my Change, when weâre alone.â His fingers were suddenly tight on Ctiradâs leg – not tight enough to hurt, more of a promise of entertainment than of pain.
That, he could answer without having to think about. âI look forward to seeing how far down the stone goes, sir.â
And that was a genuine smile, or at least he thought it was real smile. Ctirad swallowed around pleasure and the strange feeling that heâd done something right.
đ
First – Previous – Landing Page – Next
Want more?This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1308225.html. You can comment here or there.