Page 3 of The Toymaker

Kit whimpered through the gag and wished he hadn’t disobeyed so soon as the whip licked across his back once more. Thirty lashes was a lot for such a small disobedience, and Trig certainly hadn’t been playing when he said they’d be strict.

The iron bar that held the sign outside was quite sturdy and apparently also useful for chaining up naughty slaves who screwed up five minutes after signing a contract. Kit made a noise like a half-scream as the whip cracked across his ass again.

Thirty,” Riju said in a satisfied tone before he mumbled under his breath. “Thirty, thirty, thirty.”

Kit breathed heavily as he remained standing on the balls of his feet. He didn’t have quite enough slack to stand flat. Riju didn’t speak again and was probably giving him a moment since the whipping was over.

When Kit was punished with a whipping, he liked for it to be done a certain way so he felt like he'd been properly punished. Riju had done it perfectly. There had been enough time between lashes for Kit to process the pain of it and fear the next. They had been hard, and he knew he’d have marks for a few days, but they hadn’t been unbearable, and Riju hadn't cut him.

Kit had learned his lesson. Riju was clearly an expert with the whip, and it made sense considering where he and his Master lived. He’d probably taken plenty of lessons either from Trig or from other instructors at The Edge.

Riju came around with the whip neatly coiled, and he pushed his spectacles up his nose with his middle finger. “You can’t sneak anything past me, so be careful about how you speak and act. Remember, you can only leave off the Master if you’re told to relax with the title. You weren’t, and that's why you’re being punished outside.”

Kit nodded since he couldn’t speak. That’s what he needed anyway. The rule had been in the contract, he’d messed up, and he’d deserved the punishment so he’d learn and do better.

“You can stay there until Trig decides to take you down,” said Riju. “That’ll give you time to think.”

Without another word, he went in and left Kit to stand there. Cum ran down his legs, and a spreader bar kept his ankles apart. He flushed as a group of students with small badges pinned on their shirts and cloaks came up the street. They giggled at him as they went by. He could only imagine how his back, rear, and thighs looked.

He’d probably be playing with himself later to the memory, although it’d be a while before he could do that. The public humiliation and punishment were getting him so worked up in his head, he almost regretted signing now. He’d have to suffer with no release for a whole year while two attractive men had their way with him whenever they wanted. That wasn’t counting whoever else got to use his ass and mouth.

He thought his only punishment then was to be displayed so anyone who passed would know he’d been disobedient. Trig came out after almost thirty minutes. Kit’s shoulders were feeling the strain, and his calves hurt a little too. When he saw the whip, he knew he wasn’t being released just yet. Dear Elira, they certainly intended to whip him into shape.

“A few minutes, and you forgot the title.” Trig shook his head. “Nobody told you to relax, and it's quite a simple rule to follow. You disappoint me, Kit.”

Kit eyed the whip as it unfurled.

“This is how you’ll learn.”

The cracks started again. It was worse that time when a couple of students stopped to watch as more welts were added to his backside and thighs, and the leather licked the ones that were already there. Trig was just as good with the whip. Being watched by strangers upped his shame as his legs shook. One of the students had a notable bulge in his trousers, and Kit wondered if he’d be made to take care of it.

Trig told the students to move along once he seemed to be finished after a dozen. Kit breathed heavily as he came around. “Are you going to forget to call us Master again?”

Kit shook his head as he mumbled through the gag.

“Should I let you down or give you more licks?”

Kit lowered his eyes and didn’t try to speak. Clearly, the one who was chained and had just been whipped didn’t get to make decisions. If he shook his head no, Trig would probably start over again to teach him his place.

“You’ll come inside now.”

Kit’s room was small, and it only contained a cot, and his pack was in the corner. After a glass of water, Trig left him kneeling on the floor and told him to stay. Kit assumed he’d be left alone. Instead, Riju came in after less than a minute and lay on the cot.

Kit assumed he’d be fucked again, or perhaps he’d be ordered to take Riju in his mouth. His Master motioned to him.

“Get on me,” he said.

“I don’t understand. Do you want me to ride your cock, Master?”

“No. Lay on me face-to-face. I’ll cuddle you like that.”

It was a strange way to cuddle. He crawled over and carefully laid himself atop Riju. For a moment, it was awkward to be using someone like a bed, but he let himself sink into the sensation. Riju smelled like roses which was common for fairies, and Kit had the same along with a hint of sunflowers. Riju also smelled of magnolias. It was so rich and natural, Kit was sure it wasn’t from bath oils or soaps.

“See? Isn’t it nice? Full touch, but nothing will hurt your back.”

“It is, Master.”

“Trig's expecting someone, so I'll take care of you.”

Perry had only done aftercare after intense sessions, and never after punishment. He said Kit didn’t deserve it then even though he’d wanted to be reassured. Being refused usually made him feel like pure shit, and Perry said he should for being so disobedient. Aftercare was only for good slaves according to him, and Kit’s other lovers had been too soft on him and not proper dominants or Masters.

Riju made a humming noise as he stroked Kit’s hair. “I like this too, and your weight feels good.”

“Why, Master?”

“The pressure is good. It’s firm.”

“Why are you doing this if I was bad and don’t deserve aftercare, Master?”

Riju hesitated. “It said in the contract you’d get aftercare from one of us. With intense stuff, you especially need it.”

It hadn’t said when so Kit had automatically assumed there wouldn’t be any after punishments . “I thought I have to learn, Master.”

“You still have to be cared for after punishment. Aftercare isn’t a privilege to be taken or given, and you don't whip someone and leave them all alone or whatever. It’s a requirement, and Trig says people need it. I don’t like that he won’t give you a safety word, but he won’t forbid care.”

“Oh. Thank you, Master.” At least Kit could avoid the shitty feeling there.

"What kind of people have you been with?"

"The last one said my others had been too easy and soft, Master."

"Hmm."

"What, Master?"

"Nothing." Riju kept stroking his hair like a cat. “Dory would like you.”

Kit figured that was another toy. Trig had said dolls, so his apprentice must have had a few.

Riju kissed the side of his head. “You’ll be a good boy, won’t you, Kit?”

“Yes, Master.”

Hopefully, their strictness and harsh punishments tempered with care would make him better for Perry. In the meantime, he’d enjoy the company of these two. He started to doze while Riju hummed a tune and stroked his hair.

For the rest of the afternoon, he was permitted to rest in his room since Trig was busy with other things. Riju brought him a snack and more water after his nap. He was brought into the kitchen for dinner which Trig had already cooked. Since Kit hadn’t earned the right to sit at the table and eat, and it was his first evening there, he had to eat on the floor from a bowl like a dog. His hands weren’t permitted, and he could feel Trig’s eyes on him to make sure he didn’t slip up.

To clean, he was allowed to stand. Trig showed him which cupboards held cups, dishes, and things like that. Kit washed the dishes and cleaned everything under his watchful eye. Riju sat in his chair with his feet drawn up on the seat while he whispered to his doll, Red.

“When you’re done sweeping, you can talk to Riju or rest in your room,” Trig said once the majority of stuff was done. He seemed satisfied since Kit hadn’t slacked on cleaning. “You’ll be permitted Elira’s Book to read with a lantern at night so you’re not just staring at the wall in your early days of training. Got it?”

“Yes, Master.” Elira’s Book wasn’t very interesting since he’d already read it, and it was basic stories, advice, and instructions for living. Not that the Goddess had ever been too demanding when she had walked the realm.

“Your main focus should be obeying, but I don’t think slaves should stare at a wall and let their minds rot just because they’re not doing anything. Reading is good stimulation. Do a good job with sweeping, and don’t worry about mopping.”

Trig left the kitchen, and Kit swept as ordered while Riju remained in his chair. Kit hadn’t been given balm for his welts, and he assumed they would make him feel the full effects of his punishment to remind him of his place.

The cock cage couldn’t be ignored either, and he was hyper-aware of it. Riju kept whispering to his toy, although Kit couldn’t understand what he was saying. Once he finished and emptied the dirt pan in the cook stove fire, he went over to Riju and got on his knees.

“Master? How old are you?”

“I turned twenty-six a few days ago.” Riju kept looking at his doll as he fiddled with her hair.

“What do you tell your dolls, Master?” Since Trig had mentioned that not everybody was nice or understanding of him, they probably considered his dolls to be stupid. Maybe they also thought of him as stupid for being twenty-six and playing with toys even though they were important to him.

“I like to tell her stories.”

“Like what, Master?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I like stories too, Master.”

Riju looked at him, or maybe somewhere to the side of his head. It was hard to tell. Kit wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything, or what to say if he should, and Riju finally spoke.

“When I was seven, I went to the fair with Dory, but I didn’t have any money to buy her a sweet.”

He’d mentioned Dory before, so perhaps she was an old doll he'd taken around with him as a child.

“I found a piece of pastry on the ground, and we ate that instead.”

Kit almost chuckled and held it back since he didn’t want Riju to think he was being laughed at. His adoptive Uncle had yelled at him once for eating a sweet he’d found on the ground. He was sure just about every kid did something similar at least once in their life.

“I had brought pebbles from my collection, and when we watched the acrobat troupe, people tossed coins in their box, so I gave them a pebble because I didn’t have money. I think they liked the pebble because it was smooth and had colored lines. It was my favorite one.”

Riju slid off the chair to sit next to Kit who raptly listened. He drew up his knees and focused on his doll while he continued talking.

“They had two fairies who could fly, and they went up high with two others who would throw them. The ones with no wings would flip and spin, and the other fliers would catch them.”

Kit had seen that before at fairs. It always made him a bit nervous even though he enjoyed watching. What if a flier didn’t catch the other?

“Other fairies on the ground flipped and held up their friends so they could jump and land on their feet. Dory loved it. When it was over, we watched musicians play. Some of the people were dancing, but we just wanted to watch. After I put one of my pebbles in their collection box, they yelled at me.” Riju’s expression darkened. “It was my second favorite pebble.”

Kit’s stomach dropped. He imagined a tiny Riju watching the acrobats who accepted the pebble. Then he pictured the nasty musicians who only wanted money and yelled at him even though he’d been a kid with nothing else to give. He’d been completely unselfish in the way of a child who’s innocent and wants to share what he can, and they’d rejected it.

“They sound like terrible people, Master.”

“Red thinks so too.”

“Did your parents buy you a sweet later, Master?”

“No,” Riju said in a wooden tone.

Perhaps something happened to his parents, and that was why Trig took him on. He’d said he was trying to help Riju be better, and Kit still wasn’t sure what all that had meant.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to ask just in case something bad had happened. It would drag up memories.

Those musicians likely hadn’t been the first or last people who had been mean to him. Kit knew well enough how people might be treated badly over the dumbest stuff. Kids had laughed at him as a child because he’d been hopeless at math, and the teacher had often scolded him.

Riju tipped slightly to lean on him, and Kit took the chance to give him a quick peck on the top of his head while hoping it wasn’t too forward. Riju seemed to like it since he scooted over a little more. Kit let his weight rest on his side and spoke.

“Do you still like fairs, Master?”

“I love them!”

“Me too! What else do you tell Red, Master?”

“I make up stuff, and she likes Stumpy the Unicorn, so I tell her those stories."

“I used to like him too, Master.”

It was a storybook for human kids, and a rifter who had gone to Earth brought one back a century ago to print and distribute for fairy children. It was still popular, and Kit imagined it always would be. If only the humans knew unicorns were real.

Riju straightened up to get close to his face. “What else?”

“Uh, like books, Master? I used to have one about a chuckle chickie and all the things he laughed at.”

“Chuckie!”

“Yes! Chuckie, Master! That was it.”

Riju grinned. “When Trig says you can have other stuff to read, I’ll let you read mine. I have it.”

“I’d like that, Master.”