Blair's Branding

Blair was alone when he woke the next morning. For a moment he was confused, fuzzy on why he was there, then it all flooded back. The bed smelled of sex, and when he sat up he found he smelled of sex too, and his body was sticky, and his ass was sore. He stripped the bed and left the linens on a floor in a pile before going to the bathing room where he stood under the shower for a long time. Trying to scrub away the evidence of last night proved fruitless; he could get his skin clean, but Quinn had indelibly branded his body inside and out.
*Quinn*.


The very thought of him and Blair’s body began to betray the cause again. He groaned. Blair supposed this made him some kind of freak.
“Yes, he *does* seem to have that effect doesn’t he?”
Startled he spun around to find he was not alone. In the bathing room stood a beautiful, woman; tall, lithe and blonde. She held a towel for him.
“Sorry?” He tossed sopping hair out of his face. “What do you mean?”
She cocked an eyebrow and he looked in the direction she indicated; his hand was wrapped around his cock. Unconsciously he’d been stroking himself just thinking about Quinn. A little self-conscious he took his hand away.
“It’s alright,” the woman said wryly, “the very thought of him left *me* in a constant state of arousal for the longest while.”
Blair’s eyes narrowed and he reassessed this woman. She was slave; like him she wore the bracelet. *Another body slave* The surge of jealousy took him by surprise and it must have registered on his face because she laughed.
“Don’t worry, my friend. We’re apples and oranges - he seldom wants both at the same time.” She wrapped the towel around him. “So you’re Blair.” She studied him briefly, “ They were right, you are beautiful. Come, old Yuri is waiting to give you a massage. I imagine you need it.” She observed almost clinically. “And Yuri has the hands of a god.”
Still a little shell shocked, Blair let her lead him away.
“Megan.” She replied to his unasked question.


He liked her immediately, and felt a little less alone even in such a brief time. She turbaned his wet hair in a towel and took a seat on a stool in the massage room when he climbed on the table.
Yuri was a gnarled and slight wizened old man, but his twisted limbs belied the strength in his hands. He worked miracles, unknotting tight muscles in Blair’s calves, shoulders and back.
“It wasn’t too bad last night?” Megan asked bluntly.
Blair blushed hot.
She clicked her tongue in sympathy. “I was a virgin as well.” She snickered, “Couldn’t walk right that first day.”
Blair threw an embarrassed glance at the old man.
“Don’t worry about old Yuri,” Megan said dismissively, “he’s mostly deaf. Besides, we aren’t saying anything he’s never heard…if he could hear anything at all.” She leaned back and crossed her legs, warming to the topic. “Quinn *is* a good lover.”
“*Lover*?!” Blair retorted. “Owner. Rapist. Lover implies I had some say in the matter. Are you satisfied to be had, used at some other person’s whim?”
“Don’t be stupid, Blair. We’re body slaves, bought and paid for. This is our function in this household, in this society.”

This is not what he was ready or willing to hear, she could tell. He’d come to terms with it.
“It could have been much worse; Quinn is a good man. You’re not in some brothel, not owned by some fat, ugly old pervert. Look at old Yuri there.” She said pointing to the old man, “he’s used up, a hay burner. Any other house would have turned him out; given him his *freedom*.” She said freedom like it left a sour taste. “His freedom to starve and die of thirst and exposure.”



“Where I’m from slavery is wrong. It’s wrong to own another person. No matter how…Quinn makes me feel, it’s wrong that I don’t have the right to walk away or embrace him as I choose.”
“Well it’s not wrong here and *this* is your reality now.”
He was afraid to say more. He wanted to say that he was going to run the first chance he got, but he didn’t want to risk telling anybody that. He didn’t want to destroy his chances by trusting the wrong person no matter how much he instinctively liked her. He thanked Yuri when he was finished and got up from the table. Megan switched seats with him and helped him with his hair. It was oiled and brushed and bound into a braid. Then she helped him choose something to wear - something similar to what he’d been presented in the previous evening. While they were in the bathing room other servants had come in and made the bed and taken away the soiled linens. She took him down to the kitchen for a meal.


“So what are my other duties here?” He asked her over a dish of fruit and a cup of hot tea. He was unprepared for her teasing laugh.
“Other duties? Blair, my friend this” She held out a beautiful, bangled arm, “is what you do. Look pretty, be ready.”
“I could run errands or…”
“Errands. Don’t be foolish.” More seriously now she admonished him, “don’t go to the market by yourself now. You are highly valued by your looks and your master. Someone might try to steal you, change your brand.”
“Highly valued!” Blair sputtered in frustration, “Steal me? Change my…. For the love of Mike!” He took a deep, steadying breath. “Okay then, what can I do to pass the time?”
Megan shrugged. “I go shopping sometimes. I’ve learned a musical instrument which Quinn enjoys. It’s funny how a fierce fighter like Quinn likes music, art, and books…”
“Books!” Blair exclaimed. “He has books?”
“An entire library…” Megan looked up amused when Blair pushed his breakfast aside and jumped up.
“Where?”


Quinn’s ‘library’ took Blair’s breath away. It was a cavernous room that rose at least two stories with clerestory windows ringing the room just under the ceiling. The walls were covered with books and manuscripts, curious instruments and tools. There was a catwalk running the second level, and ladders on casters everywhere. The middle of the room was taken up with a large table and chairs - for conferences undoubtedly. The space would be the envy of any small university.
“Can you read these…books?” Megan asked in a small, almost reverent voice. Although she’d known of the existence of the library she had no use for it as she was barely literate herself and had no curiosity for more.
“Not yet.” he replied looking around the great room. He had a basic literacy in this language; enough to run errands to the market, to make change and not get cheated. He had nowhere near the skill necessary to crack this collection. “Not yet.”


Blair wondered through the stacks, pulling books randomly, attracted by the symbols on the spines and developing a loose sense of category as he went along. Megan good naturedly slipped away without interrupting him. He had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually the table was covered with random selections of books, manuscripts, charts and scrolls. He’d crawled on top of the table himself, maybe to get closer to the books. It was like university all over again, his first anthropology classes - learning to find patterns,and trying deduce meanings of otherwise confounding symbols.


He looked up once and was surprised to find Quinn there - sitting in one of the chairs, arms folded and with an amused expression on his face. Blair flushed as he took in the chaos he’d made of the formerly orderly room. There were books everywhere; on the chairs, on the floor, on the tables, open in the stacks…
“Oh man, sorry.” he said scrambling off the table. “I’ll put everything back…” Not really, since he couldn’t read well enough to do that. Quinn didn’t seem perturbed though. He just held out his hand. Blair swallowed past the lump in his throat, and a curl of trepidation began in his stomach. He’d managed through the day to forget…. He took a deep breath and took Quinn’s outstretched hand.


Quinn pulled him closer, forcing him to sit astride his lap. The table dug into his back and Quinn was at his front. His belly quivered when Quinn stroked it.
“Quinn, I…I want to learn to read.” Blair blurted.
Quinn ceased his ministrations to look up at him. “Why?”
Blair blushed under his gaze. He dropped his eyes, afraid perhaps to show how eager he was. “Back on…before I was taken I used to be an anthropologist.” No, it wasn’t fear, he didn’t want to share the pain of his memories. “I like…books.”
Quinn’s silence made him look up. He found his master studying him seriously then he shrugged. “Okay, I’ll buy you a teacher.”
“*Hire* me a teacher, Quinn.” Blair objected to anyone being purchased for his needs.
Quinn shook his head. “Renting is always more expensive than owning.” He smiled at Blair’s perturbation. “I’ll buy you an old, retired scholar. Another hay burner like Yuri.”
“Thank you.” Blair said simply.
“Now,” Quinn commanded, making Blair stand. “feed me, bathe me and give me pleasure with your body.”