The Brat

When outsiders pictured slave training, they pictured long days of sexual exertion, nubile young men and women with bodies gleaming in the lamplight, and a wonderland of exotic pleasures. Darise was always slightly disappointed to correct them, to explain the real meat of the work. There was a mystique to the popular idea of his role, a certain allure.

It was an allure almost entirely missing from what the real work was. The sun had set hours ago, and the trainees had already been sent to bed. He was still awake, wrapped in a plush dressing gown over his nightgown, labouring by lamplight on the day's journal. There was more bookkeeping to the work than sex, more careful observation than canings, and far more instruction in the most mundane things than any outsider could possibly have imagined. It struck him from time to time, as it did this night, of the absurdity of his position, the strange realities of creating such impeccable creatures, the utter disconnect between the fantasy and the life.

In the garret bedrooms of the townhouse slept three of those strange creatures, driven to exhaustion by the day's labours and the terrible demands of their cruel taskmaster. Danae had been with him for a year now, but she was a special case, a trainer-in-training. The next had been in residence for several months, and was polishing nicely. His concern was with the third, the one who'd been with him for just three weeks now, a slender young elfin woman with dark hair and bright eyes.

Idly, he tapped his pen against his fingers, drumming the silver down onto the pads, before breaking himself from his reverie for another sip of rapidly cooling tea, flavoured with just a little lemon. With a sigh - half fatigue, half bewilderment - he returned to his journal and the correspondence. Minor business - procedural issues - was all that was left of the journalling for the evening, and with his mind refusing to focus on it, he set it aside for the next morning, taking up a fresh sheet to start a letter instead.

"Dearest Goddess,..." He began, as the mechanical clock on the wall ticked away.

__________

Naevia groaned in her bunk upstairs, rolling over onto her front and ignoring the mumbled annoyance from the curvy girl on the bunk beneath as the wood creaked. She ached all over from the day's hard lessons. Her tutor had taken the strap to her, and mottled black and blue bruises had already formed along her backside and the top of her thighs. Why did it matter if she couldn't gag on demand sucking a cock? Men didn't like girls who gagged, she knew that much, but somehow the faggy tyrant who'd taken her brief from her spotter didn't! He'd know a thing or two about sucking cock, prancing about in his fancy dresses, she thought and snorted.

She'd been sure, when they started their deepthroating lesson, that'd she'd make up for the mistake before that. But he hadn't used her himself - probably couldn't get it up with women - and had her practice on a dildo instead. And then, the beatings when she couldn't gag. Well... Not when she couldn't gag. When she rolled her eyes at him the third time he asked her to try and tap into the gag reflex she'd never quite been in touch with. But so what? Why learn how to fuck it up when she could already do it right!

__________

"...my latest ward seems compelled by some unknown force to resist every attempt I make to draw the right responses from her. I have seen ego before, and arrogance, but Naevia's last so-called owner has built so thoroughly into her a sense of superiority, a smugness, that it seems entrenched to the point of despair.

I remain determined to make something of her, not least because I know her 'play' owner who referred her to Eralis is a dear friend of Miss Sally. And she is, if nothing else, a superb test for Danae's ability to work with challenging future clients..."

He paused, swallowing lightly, and actually flushed at the thought of writing the next part of his report. But his employer demanded nothing less than a full accounting.

"I have refrained from making use of Naevia sexually so far. I suspect that, were I to use her, she would simultaneously decide she has power over me and subconsciously develop an unhealthy attachment that at this stage of the training would be unhelpful. I have made some use of Kaia, and happily report that she has become quite able at the oral arts on men despite her natural inclination being solely towards women. Unfortunately, this leads me to my next concern..."

__________

The beds were deliberately squeaky. They had to be. Some evil trick by the faggy little tyrant to keep them on edge, or let him hear if they tried to sneak out. Every time she tossed and turned, the wood rocked a little, making the most awful, irritating grinding squeak that made her teeth itch.

"Naevia, I'm trying to sleep..." Kaia quietly muttered from beneath her. "...it's a long day tomorrow too, can you no - "

"Oh, shut the fuck up, you dyke." Naevia growled out in answer, shaking her head and deliberately wiggling the bed louder. "Just because I've got the only pussy on the menu doesn't mean you've got a chance at getting it."

__________

"Naevia, despite her physical charms, is an appalling creature. She is unaware that I have tasked Kaia with reporting to me on her misdeeds, and by that account and my own observation, Naevia is a bigoted wretch. She regularly mutters under her breath that I am a 'faggot' - I can only assume for my clothing choices - and uses similar language with Naevia."

He paused again, pouring a final cup of tea from the still warm pot, stirring in the lemon and honey. It was an opportunity for thought, a chance to reconsider, but with a sigh he resumed the letter, pen sweeping neatly over the page.

"This being the case, I fear she is unsuited by nature to the role we had initially planned for her. She lacks the proper temperament for a sex slave, without a trace of the obliging humility and grace the position requires if a placement is to last more than a month, and it would take more time than her sale price would merit to try and instill it. I see only one alternative..."

He paused one last time before committing the final, fatal sentence to the page, signing the letter, and sealing it. The daily mail run would take it to the owner of his training house, for Her final approval. Most decisions he made of his own, but something so drastic, so... Unfortunate... he would be remiss to deny Her a chance to weigh in. The decision settled in his belly, dull and leaden and cold, and stayed with him as he turned to his bed, blew out the lamp, and effortlessly slipped into sleep.

__________

The ability to function with little sleep was one of the great virtues of a slave, and it was to his great disappointment that for the third morning in a row, Darise found Naevia still in bed as the sun rose, a fact reported to him as he made his late arrival at six-o'clock to the rooftop garden by Kaia, spoken softly as she served him his tea.

"And I suppose she gave you the same curses as yesterday?" He asked over the rim of the cup after his first slow sip, one leg neatly folded over the other in his elegant cream skirt, the pale light of the early sun lending it an unfortunate grey tinge.

"Yes, sir." Kaia offered as she buttered his toast, placing it before him.

"To be expected... You're doing well, tolerating her. I'm pleased. You may have to find a way to cope with owners who enjoy belittling you the way she does someday."

"Yes, sir." Kaia was getting better at concealing her emotions as well, he noted with satisfaction. There was only a brief hint of dismay creeping into her voice.

"I'll wake her this morning... But today, I'm going to task her to help you with the housekeeping. I don't expect her to be of much use, but - Ah." He paused, looking up to the door as it clicked open and Danae returned from delivering the morning letters, exchanged for a thick stack of correspondence.

"Danae. You're to keep an eye on Kaia and Naevia while they work. Note down everything, and let me see the attention you've been paying in your report tonight. I was just letting Kaia know the plan. Naevia will be assisting her - you are to leave her to Kaia's direction, not goad her along - and no doubt offering more of her brattiness."

He paused for another sip, smiling as Danae wordlessly joined him at the table and Kaia smoothly poured a second cup of tea for her.

"I want you to leave them alone for an hour or so after luncheon. Take the chance to sort through that correspondence for me - you know the usual rule, red lion stamp to me immediately, all of that. As for you, Kaia, in that hour I want you to try and use Naevia sexually. If she refuses, remind her I've told her she's to obey you - don't worry, I will when I wake her - and if she still refuses, accept it."

Danae raised an eyebrow wordlessly across the table at him, still not permitted to speak without permission after a careless wag of the tongue earlier in the week had caused him some small embarrassment with a buyer. He nodded, finishing his tea.

"Sir? Why?"

"Because, Danae, a sex slave that won't have sex with the people her owner wants her to is no good to anyone. But there's a niche we might just fit a brat into if all else fails."

"A niche, sir?"

"Not a pretty one, I'm afraid."

__________

She was not, Darise briefly noted, without a certain sort of appeal. Sleeping in the nude, half bare of blankets, Naevia had the sort of dishevelled beauty that might have bought her some small mercies from a man more concerned by his cock. But three mornings in a row, together with her vile mouth, took the polish off that charm, and it took an effort not to see her merely as a thorn in his side even with the raw visual beauty.

There was plenty of that. Long legs with shapely thighs, a delicate but womanly swell to the hips, a flat stomach with a hint of toned muscle that didn't quite reach the point of being overtly powerful. Supple, small breasts with tiny nipples and a lovely curve, and even - as strange as it was to admit - a shapely armpit, if such a thing could be said to exist. Beautiful green eyes, and the most lovely point to her ears. Oh yes, Darise thought, there was beauty to be had. It was most unfortunate that it was wrapped around one of the ugliest personalities he had met yet.

The blanket came away first, and Naevia stirred with a mumble at the wash of cool morning air over her bruised buttocks. Before she had a chance to rouse from whatever dream she had foolishly chosen to pursue rather than waking at the proper hour, Darise brought his strap down hard across both cheeks, and the mumbled shock turned into a screaming yelp that faded hard when it hit the soundproofed walls.

"OW!" Naevia cried, scrambling up on the thin mattress, failing to turn before Darise brought the strap across her ass again and instead actually falling off the bed.

"Up! Up!" He rarely raised his voice, and this morning was no exception. It was difficult keeping the feminine lilt to it at higher volumes, for one thing, and it gave his rebellious charges too much of a sense of power. And besides - with the hard crack of the leather against skin to do his yelling for him, why tire his throat unnecessarily?

Naevia caught one more blow across a thigh before she managed to rise, glaring at him with tired eyes, pouty lip parted to offer some insult before she had the sense to bite it back. Darise folded the strap back in half, tucking it in the broad pocket of his white cotton blouse.

"Today, Naevia, since you seem to resist all our attempts to impart a sense of your own routine, you will be joining Kaia."

"Kaia's - but she's a housekeeper!"

"Not exactly. Kaia is to be a general purpose slave, not just a housekeeper, but one with some of those skills. You'll be assisting her until I feel you've learned the difference."

"But, sir, I... Look at me, sir! I'm a sex slave!"

"No." He hissed in answer, eyes narrowing dangerously in a moment of actual anger that escaped before he could disguise it. It was one of his few buttons.

"No. You haven't earned the title of slave yet, of any kind. You are a piece of meat that happens to have nice tits, a tight cunt, and an attitude problem. Until you recognize that, you won't be fit to be a slave. Now get dressed - don't you even ask about a shower or breakfast, you're too late as it is - and get to work downstairs with Kaia. Obey her as if her words come from my lips today. Am I understood?"

The little way her lip trembled with anger was almost, but not quite, endearing. It might be something to work on later, he thought, as he turned and walked away.

__________

"Would you please dust rather than just staring out the window?"

Naevia rolled her eyes, turning to make an exaggerated show out of working the cloth along the small table in front of the third story window with a huff. This was absolute bullshit. Dusting was for maids, dull little bitches like Kaia. Just like the faggy little tyrant to waste someone with her talents on something so... so boring.

"Not like that, Naevia, you'll - "

"Oh, shut the fuck up." She growled back under her breath, momentarily forgetting Danae's presence in the corner with her notepad.

" - you'll just get dust on it again. Top to bottom, not bottom to top."

It made sense, she guessed, but it was so completely not her job that she couldn't care less about the proper way to dust a vase. It was a boring piece anyway, just white glass, not even painted with erotic art like the ones at her last training house. She was missing her old trainer Eralis more and more daily. The old bitch at least knew how to have fun.

"Kaia, I have to attend to some matters elsewhere." She heard Danae say, glancing over out the corner of her eye as the brunette trainer-in-training spoke. "You have Naevia's assistance still, I'm sure you'll manage her."

Just like that, the bitch was gone. It was an infuriating habit they had, ignoring her to talk to Kaia just because the other trainee had more weeks in and a little previous service experience, like it made her better. But who'd want a maid when they could have a sex slave? It made no sense. But with Danae gone, she could stop giving the job even half an ass, and she put her rag down to stretch out with a satisfied sigh.

"Pick that up and get back to work, Naevia." Kaia said, voice soft.

"Oh, fuck off."

"That's not nice."

"So? You don't own me."

"No. But I'm in charge of you."

"I don't see you waving a strap around." She spun, quite dramatically she thought, with a sneer. "So don't pretend you're the boss. You're no better than I am."

Kaia paused, thinking, and then nodded. An enigmatic little smile spread on her thin lips. "You're right, I'm no better than you are. But what I am is in charge anyway. You're always talking about how good you are at what you do, so why don't I come over there and come down to your level, huh?"

She paced forward, that smile growing wider, teeth showing. It was somehow predatory, but Naevia shrugged it off. It's not like the other slave was going to have the balls to do anything.

"You wish, dyke. I don't eat pussy unless I have to." She sneered back. Kaia kept approaching, closer, grinning at her.

"But you do have to, remember? Darise left me in charge of you, and I'm telling you to get down on the ground and beg to eat my fucking pussy like you want nothing more in the world. Isn't sex what you're all about?"

"I don't see him here." She shot back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And?"

"And I only eat pussy to turn on cocks. So fuck off."

Kaia paused in her step, lip twitching in irritation, a flash of something dangerous in her eyes. But she shrugged after a moment, and turned around. "Fine. But get back to work. If I get caned because you're slacking..." She trailed off.

Big scary lesbian, Naevia thought, and rolled her eyes as she snatched the cloth up to start polishing again, just as half-assed as before. As if the dyke would even have the nerve to do anything without her precious trainer's permission. No wonder she had to settle for being a maid, no one wanted a sex slave without a little spunk and she was too much of a goody-two shoes for that.

__________

Darise leant against the doorway lightly as he watched Danae work, peering over her shoulder at the mail before announcing his presence with a slight clearing of the throat. She looked back at him, rising quickly to her feet in her sensible flats, waiting for his nod before speaking.

"Sir. I left Naevia and Kaia, as you said."

"Good. Relax and sit back down, keep sorting... Your impressions?"

"What you'd expect, sir." Danae returned to her seat, angling herself so she could sort the mail at the kitchen table while still facing her trainer, out of respect. Much of it was the usual correspondence - inquiries about training openings, about catalogues and auction dates, letters from spotters about possible new buyers. Some unrelated personal mail, which she had set aside without opening.

"Naevia resents being put to work in something menial. She doesn't understand the difference between a maid and a housekeeping slave yet, or the importance of doing whatever she's doing with the kind of focus it deserves, but you already know that." Another letter to the personal stacks, though this one went to the diminutive fifth resident of the house, the trainer's secret spy Arissa, a tiny little mouse of an elf who seemed to live in a hidden realm of crawlspaces, bolt-holes, and secret passageways between walls more than in any kind of space the rest of them could even hope to understand.

"She also resents being junior to Kaia, but doesn't understand why. She thinks it's because it's demeaning, but she's actually jealous of the attention. There was some of her usual display of insubordination, much stronger than she'd give either of us, and I don't doubt that the moment I left she probably tried to stop work. May I ask what the plan is for the rest of the day, sir?"

"Do you remember the lecture I gave you when you first came to this house, all those years ago?"

"Yes, sir." How could she forget? She'd burst into tears by the end. She'd been young and foolish, and shared the arrogance on display.

"Today, we're giving Naevia her very own lecture. I doubt she'll take it as well as you have - " For a moment, Danae felt an actual blush glow in her cheeks, and fought it down. " - but we can at least hope to have it sink halfway through her ego."

"Very good, sir. Will you want me present?"

"Oh yes. More witnesses are better when it comes to this. Helps abrade the ego a little, provokes a stronger response. If we're lucky she might even lash out. I'm not surprised Eralis couldn't cope with her. She's a mess."

"Do you think she's going to be able to be fixed, sir?"

"Perhaps not - but there's a role even for a brat, Danae."

Danae bit back her curiosity. If her trainer wanted to discuss it, he'd volunteer the information, and she'd likely know soon enough. The next letter in the stack bore the red lion that marked out more important communications from the market her trainer had helped build. Wordlessly, she rose, handing it to him, the curiosity flaring anew as he thanked her and departed.

The archives in the fireproofed safe room were full of red lion letters, and Danae's mind flew to them. Most were announcements of retirement, of a death of an owner or a slave, a serious allegation of some misconduct by one to the other, or a petition for mutual recognition by trainers not of the House line. But with a heavy sigh, she pulled her attention back to the mundane letters in front of her, sorting the personal - and there was a shocking amount of it for her trainer - from the purely business. If today went well, she might yet learn what was in the mysterious envelope, but if she didn't finish her own work well, any chance of that was gone. The burning curiosity faded over long minutes, and she fell back into the rhythm she'd learned over the years of her slavery, the steady pace and quiet satisfaction of service.