There were things Mike expected to come home to during the summer.
Students, sometimes – the trusted ones, with the invitation to his public home areas.
Desserts and other treats.
Once in a while, a co-worker, who needed stress relief or a shoulder or just wanted to hang out.
Flowers, some times, when said stress relief, etc., had been very appreciated.
What Mike did not expect to find – on the floor, just inside the doorway – was a boi. Specifically, a boy, bound in iron ankle and wrist and collared in the same. A naked boy, kneeling on the tile of the entryway. With a tag attached to the collar.
Mike knelt down on the tile. He contemplated Masking, but, though the boy looked human, he was in the middle of the Village. Humans didn’t come here.
The name was a cue. Before the boy lifted his head, Mike shifted into a female form, wishing – for at least the twenty thousandth time – that she was any good at all with shaping Unutu.
I found this on my rounds. I have no idea what to do about him. As soon as you sign this paper, he’s yours.
Treat him well, Michelle. And don’t Keep him for too long.
Beneath his signature was a scribbled transfer of Ownership. Attached to the note was a pen.
The boy did not look up. Mike ignored ethics and dipped into probably-Laudanum’s emotions. She had to have some idea what was going on before she signed this.
Worry. Worry, want, anticipation, anticipation, anticipation! Worry, concern.
No fear. And the impatient anticipation smelled to Mike like arousal. “Well, then.” She signed the paper. “Laudanum, you’re mine.”
He didn’t speak, yet. Was he mute? Had Luca ordered him into silence? “Speak.”
The boy’s voice was rough, as if unused for a long time. “I’m yours.” Only then did he look up, his astonishingly green eyes meeting Mike’s. “Mistress.”
Luca did give her the most awesome presents.
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