Marketplace Read online

  The Marketplace

  by

  Laura Antoniou

  published by Luster Editions

  an imprint of Circlet press, Inc.

  Cambridge, MA

  Copyright © 2010 by Laura Antoniou

  An earlier edition was published by Masquerade Books in 1993 and a second edition by Mystic Rose Books in 2000.

  First Circlet Press Edition 2010

  Smashwords Edition

  The text of this ebook was prepared in-house at Circlet Press and then converted to multiple ebook formats by the Smashwords Meatgrinder.

  Published by

  Circlet Press, Inc.

  39 Hurlbut Street

  Cambridge, MA 02138

  www.circlet.com

  License Notes

  Please do not support online piracy of copyrighted works. This ebook is licensed for the personal enjoyment of the purchaser only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Additional copies of this ebook may be purchased from Smashwords or other online sites, or from the publisher’s own site at circlet.com.

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  PART ONE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five: Sharon’s Story

  Chapter Six

  PART TWO

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten: Robert’s Tale

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen: Claudia’s Tale

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen: Brian’s Tale

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  PART THREE

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Tweny-Four

  A Leash Has Two Ends: Bonus Story

  For Want of a Nail: Bonus Story

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  About The Marketplace Series

  Introduction

  Merchandise does not come easily to the Marketplace.

  It never has. In years past, just finding the Marketplace required a mix of personal dedication, passion, and the investment of a great deal of time. The creators always intended it to be that way. If it were easy to find, we would be overwhelmed by applicants.

  As it is, far too many intermediate applicants appear on the edges of the Marketplace, their eyes wide with pleading and frustration. They hear of us, they instantly believe in us, and then spend months, sometimes years, trying to find their way to us. They haunt the clubs and the organizations, their need so real and desperate that they exude sensual tension when they glide through the crowds. Some of them are so ripe that they intimidate the poseurs, the weekend sadists and the furtive dilettantes who are so endemic to that world. And they never stop asking where we may be found.

  So few of them are truly ready. They may have flirted with the trappings of a subculture and found it to be the extraordinary aphrodisiac it is. But a steady diet of aphrodisia is far too overwhelming. To survive and to thrive in this world, an applicant must need it more then they need pleasure, more then they need the companionship of peers, more then they need even the barest personal satisfaction.

  Those of you who have toyed with or even lived a term of service may wonder at just how hard it could be to attain the level of excellence required by the Marketplace. After all, you muse, these are people who will be called slaves. Owned chattel, their lives formed and polished for the pleasure and use and amusement of those whose need is to control and improve. Many of you believe that the right attitude combined with some physical charm would be more then adequate to the task.

  It is not. Even the most gifted of naturals, those individuals whose wrists are naked without restraints and whose souls are bleak without guidance, need to be trained.

  That is why we exist, actually. We are a gateway to the Marketplace, one of the few ways to be a part of it yet be outside of it. We are also easier to believe in, easier to access, easier to afford.

  If you work hard enough and your devotion is genuine, one day you may ask someone where the Marketplace can be found. They will consider you, perhaps ask one small service of you or a deeply personal question, and they will judge whether you are ready. If you show some slight potential, they may take you home and give you what you desire. Or, if the need is very strong in you, they may grant your wish and take you on a long drive, a soft blindfold locking out the light. At the end of that drive, your entire body in a state of sexual hunger and your mind obsessed with the fruition of all your deepest fantasies, you may come to our household.

  I shall be awaiting you.

  You will learn to hate me.

  And you will remember your stay in our house for the rest of your life.

  Part One: Chapter One

  “May I serve you tea, ma’am?” The girl’s body was bent slightly forward in a subtle, exquisite, inquisitive posture. Her small white hands held the china teapot firmly, waiting for an answer. That was excellent, too. An untrained girl might have started pouring as soon as she asked the question.

  “Yes, of course,” the mistress of the house replied. Her eyes followed the movements of the girl as the liquid poured into the cup. The tea made a distinct sound while it ran into the cup, another perfection. When the cup was three quarters full, the pot was replaced, and the ritual continued.

  “Would you like sugar, ma’am?” Then lemon, then cream. Each refusal was met with a slight bowing of the girl’s pretty head. When the options were finished, she backed away from the table, her steps small and carefully placed, barely disturbing the slender golden chain that wound between her white, high-heeled shoes.

  She was pretty, small and delicately shaped. She was well suited to the serving ensemble she wore, the tight-corseted bodice and the lightly ruffled apron. Her curly, light brown hair cascaded down her back, the pert lace cap pinning it back. Her deep green eyes were always lowered in humility, long lashes charmingly fluttering. The wisps of hair which seemed to carelessly escape from the cap to frame her heart-shaped face were in fact cunningly arranged to suggest disarray.

  Cute, Alexandra Selador thought, as she drank some tea. Far too cute for her own good.

  “That will be all, Claudia,” Mistress Madeleine said, her voice strong and tightly controlled. Alexandra nodded and her majordomo came forward to leash the girl and remove her from the room. The two women waited until the servants had gone to relax back into their chairs. They laughed together at the conceit.

  “It’s good to see you, Alex.”

  “And you, Madeleine. It’s been far too long. You should come out and visit us more often. And Claudia is simply enchanting. It’s rare you see such grace in that form of service these days. At least here in the States.”

  That comment was answered with a simple but elegant shrug. “You should come and visit us,” Madeleine insisted. She smiled, her face transforming in a way few of her slaves had ever witnessed. “Did you know that we finished the pool and the deck? It’s beautiful, especially at night. We light torches—it’s very romantic.”

  “Hm, I bet it is,” Alexandra murmured. “And you bring in some extra property? To serve at poolside?”

  “We invite pe
ople to bring their own, but of course we try to have someone for everyone. You should have come to the last party we threw! We had some friends in from the Netherlands. They had just bought a pair of twins, big, blonde beauties. We had them dressed in nothing but slender, black chains, wound all around their bodies.”

  Alexandra tried to imagine that, and the image of them standing next to the tall, dark Mistress. She nodded. “That must have been nice. Boys?”

  “Boy and girl. Barely spoke English, actually, but very well trained.”

  Alexandra whistled slightly. “Very nice indeed. Twin brother/sister combinations are very, very hot right now, especially if there’s a strong resemblance.” She waited politely for Madeleine to begin the business discussion. Over such an elegantly served tea, it didn’t feel right to just ask what the woman wanted. Was she interested in a set of twins herself? Alexandra did a quick mental inventory. There was one pair she knew about that might be ready for training, but they were in San Francisco, a continent away, and there was no telling what kind of contracts they wanted.

  “Well, there was a strong resemblance here, honey.” Madeleine flashed that brilliant smile again. “Both of them had long hair, shaggy almost. They looked primitive, very... raw. I told David to have their noses pierced. That would have completed the image. But even without that, they were a great success. Wherever they walked, people admired them. David even got a few offers.”

  She sighed, and finally put her cup down. “Shall we get on to business?”

  “At your service, ma’am.” Alexandra reached for her notepad. “What can we do for you this time?”

  “I want you to take Claudia.”

  Alexandra’s eyebrow shot up in surprise.

  “Claudia?”

  Madeleine nodded, her smile gone. “I want her trained.”

  Alexandra considered for a moment. “I have to be honest with you. I don’t think we’re the ones you want, Madeleine. We’re entry level, undergraduate. Claudia, if I might say so, is already past the level of many of our graduates.” She smiled ruefully. “But I can put you in contact with one of the master trainers, if you’d like. I think Anderson is accepting new applicants next month.”

  “No, I want you to do it,” came the confident reply. “Anderson is wonderful, her slaves are always perfection, but that’s the problem.”

  Alexandra waited for the explanation. It was not every day when a client protested that they didn’t want perfection. Her eyes scanned the table. There wasn’t a drop of moisture on a serving utensil nor on the tablecloth. In fact, the teapot, creamer, sugar bowel and everything else seemed to be pleasingly arrayed, something she hadn’t noticed before.

  Madeleine stood up, looking toward the door as though she could see her property through the walls. “Claudia was meant for perfection,” she began, walking away from the table. “From the first time I saw her, I could tell. It wasn’t just her attitude, you can see she’s a slave to her soul, but the way she devoted herself to being attentive to the slightest details. Adequate was never acceptable to her. Every once in a while, I would find her practicing... how to move, how to curtsy, how to speak. She would watch herself in the mirror and do something over and over again until it satisfied her.”

  She turned to look at Alexandra. “It was intoxicating for a while. Of all my slaves, even the Marketplace ones, she had the most desperate drive to be perfect for me. It was worth the challenge to find fault with her. A fray on an inch of lace, a scuff on her shoe, a grain of sugar on the table, it didn’t matter. I punished her heavily for every imperfection.

  “And the punishments! What else could I do to such a creature but have her bent tightly over a bench and caned until she cried? And she would cry, just like the little girl she is. Every time, early on, but with grace. I taught her to stand for the cane and kiss it prettily when I was done... they were wonderful sessions.

  “With stripes across her bottom, she was even more perfect.” Madeleine paused. “Do you understand?”

  “I understand that you made a perfect slave,” Alexandra said cautiously.

  “Yes, and no. I took a perfect slave and made her more perfect. And now...”

  “Now she bores you.”

  Madeleine nodded, a blush faintly discernible under her dark cheeks.

  It was a rare but classic dilemma. Alexandra began to jot down some notes. She had heard of this happening, but had never seen the results. What did happen, owners would ask between themselves, if a slave actually achieved the perfection they were supposed to be searching for? Would master be happy? Or would the slave have surpassed the master in one of those unquantifiable ways that makes people unworthy of each other?

  “So what do you envision for her?” Alexandra asked when she finished writing. “Do you want her changed into something more challenging?”

  “If possible.”

  Ah, Alexandra thought, making another note. “So you’ve already tried.”

  “Well of course. As soon as I realized what was wrong, I tried to see if there were some other areas I could explore with her. But she... resisted me.” Madeleine frowned slightly at the memory. “Not directly, of course, that might have been interesting in itself. But somehow, anything outside of her role would just make her sad, or confused. I love her dearly, but she’s so limited!”

  “Yes, of course,” Alexandra murmured sympathetically. “You’ll want her back then?”

  Madeleine turned back to look at Alexandra, her face composed. “If she cannot be taken beyond the role she is in now, I will want her sold.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “No. I want her to change because she wants to please me, not because she is afraid of the possible results. Besides,” Madeleine waved one hand toward the hallway, “a new owner may be what she needs. After all, I can’t pretend that I had nothing to do with the state she is in. Although she came to me as a novice little maid, I was the one to enhance her training to the level she has achieved. I was the one who decided to seek perfection in this role. Perhaps with someone new, she can break out of it. Be more complete, more useful.”

  Alexandra underlined ‘useful.’ “We’ll want her for one week of evaluation. After that, we’ll send you a report and you can decide whether to take our recommendations. If you decide to go through the whole program, we suggest four to five more weeks, depending on how intense you want the experience to be.”

  Madeleine nodded, came back to sit down. She reached into her bag to draw out her calendar, and began marking down dates.

  “And you know the rules here,” Alexandra continued. “You will not be able to call or visit her. And of course, Claudia will have to agree to go to the block. If she undergoes the training and decides not to enter the Marketplace, you lose all the training fees. We’re happy to do this for you, Madeleine, and in the way you like, but you know the risks.”

  “That’s perfectly acceptable. Here is her file.” The folder was filled with sheets of heavy, cream colored paper and photographs. “I can’t tell you how much she means to me, Alex. If you can do what I ask and get her back to my house a new girl, I’ll be in your debt.”

  “You certainly will,” Alexandra said with a smile.” You’ll get the invoice for the evaluation tomorrow, and an estimate for the training will come with the report. As you know, it’s a business doing pleasure with you.” The two women laughed and finished their tea.

  * * * *

  Grendel read through the file before him, scanning relevant parts and occasionally glancing at the two photos on the desk. One showed a young, dark-haired man in black leather, looking in what he must have imagined to be a defiant way at the camera. It came off more petulant than angry or proud. The second was a nude shot, the same man standing in a stiff position, his arms at his side. The file wasn’t very long.

  “Well, you were right about one thing,” he said lightly, closing the file. “This is a classic example of raw goods.”

  The man on the other side of the desk s
hrugged. “I told him he wasn’t ready.” Paul Sheridan was wearing his own black leather. But in sharp contrast to the picture on the desk, Paul looked as though he lived in his leathers. They were old, well crafted, well formed to his hard body. His only concession to the summer heat was that his shirt had short sleeves. “But when he decides he wants something, he just keeps asking and asking.”

  “How submissive.”

  Paul shrugged again. “Oh, he can be submissive when the situation is right. But he’s really just a greedy bottom most of the time. A real ‘stand and model’ type. In fact, that’s where I first saw him. It was at one of those events, you know, Mr. Leather something-or-other.”

  “And this was the best they had to offer?” Grendel waved over the file. “Now I know why those things never interested me.”

  “Yeah, well it was pretty awful. He wasn’t the best maybe, but he was hot-looking. Also, he had that nice bratty attitude. Made me want to pull him off that stage and spank him ’til he cried.”

  The master of the house nodded, familiar with Paul’s tastes. “So what do you want us to do with him?”

  “Make something out of him if you can. Break through that bullshit smugness he has, get rid of that ‘I want, I want’ nonsense. If you can bring out his real submission, I know he can fetch a nice price somewhere.” Paul examined his fingernails for a moment. “All I’m interested in is the spotters fee.”

  “I bet. You know, we don’t usually work with talent this shallow.” Grendel leaned back, his smile genuine but his voice hardening with business. “I don’t think you’ve got market quality here, frankly. Hot leather boys with selfish needs don’t rate very high in value.”