Page 1 of Under His Heel

[Chapter 1]

Alex wanted to slump forward on his stool, but he had to make a good impression. For now. So he sat up, smiled when it was required, and then shrugged when the other person decided nope, they didn’t want to buy Alex after all.

Not that Alex particularly wanted to be bought. But it was the only way to get rid of the debt hanging around his neck like a noose, and if he wanted to get back to his brother he had to suck it up for now. Suck it up, and find a sucker willing to buy the debt.

The debt-leasing center was pretty straightforward about how it all went down. Alex had his picture taken, a few details uploaded to some online database, and now he had to sit around and wait while people came in and browsed. Every debtor got their own little private room to meet potential bond-buyers, with one broker assigned to each room to oversee the process. Apparently buyers wanted to be able to chat with their potential purchases rather than just go in on somebody based on looks alone, and the furniture had been chosen to make everything seem a bit more intimate. Nice couch, a stool for Alex, a chair for the broker, and a cabinet with coffee and drinks.

The next guy who came in was a bit older than all the others who had come to check out Alex. Those men—and one woman—had all been young and eager for a servant, but they’d balked at either Alex’s looks or the price he was requesting. This new guy had to be in his late thirties at least, probably early forties. He had a touch of gray in his black hair, and his face was clean shaven. Alex scratched at his own stubbled chin and smiled.

Alex’s broker gave a nearly inaudible sigh, with a hint of disapproval, as if it was Alex’s fault that the last few guys hadn’t been up to snuff. She did stand up and greet the new customer. “Captain Tracht, hello. What brings you around here again?”

The guy, Captain Tracht, smiled ruefully. “Ms. Stiegler, a pleasure as always. I had to cancel the previous contract. We were incompatible on a very fundamental level.”

Incompatible on a fundamental level? Hmm. Maybe Alex could work with that. A guy who was desperate for a specific type might be willing to pay out the nose for it. “Good afternoon,” he said as he stood and he held out his hand.

Tracht looked down at the hand, then up at Alex’s face. Yeah, Alex wasn’t the prettiest mofo out there. The scar on his cheek made most kids and a bunch of women recoil in horror, and his nose had healed crookedly after the fist fight he’d gotten into a few months ago. But his eyes were a pretty hazel color, and his badly-cropped hair was that kind of reddish-brown tone that all the women were trying to imitate. Surely there was something there that could be considered halfway decent

Besides, even if Alex was a butter-face, he knew his body was attractive. He kept fit, and even through the tank-top he was wearing his abs would be obvious. Not to mention his arms. He resisted flexing.

Tracht was about the same height as Alex, a bit skinnier, though he wore some sort of dark gray uniform that made it impossible to tell what was underneath his clothes. After a quick once over, he grasped Alex’s hand for the handshake.

“May I see the terms of the contract?” Tracht said to Stiegler. She hesitated, and Alex almost told the bitch off. But no, he had to be super nice and pleasant during this stage. Later, he could rage all he wanted, but he needed somebody to buy his fucking debt yesterday.

“Um, here’s the outline of it, in plain language. If you’re interested I’ll send the detailed contract over.” She passed Tracht the tablet, and he settled down on the guest couch to read. Alex sat up straight on his stool and forced himself not to fidget.

The room was silent while Tracht read. “It says here you’re willing to give up full bodily autonomy for the duration of the contract? That’s a fairly serious offer. May I ask why?” He raised his head and settled his gaze on Alex, no hint of emotion on his face.

Right. Alex tried to keep his voice steady while he talked. “I figured I could get the debt paid off faster that way. I don’t mind doing whatever somebody requires of me, but I can’t be away from home for too long.”

He and his brother had calculated it out. At the current level of debt, Alex had to offer something extreme to get the terms settled down to a manageable five years, rather than a more standard ten or fifteen. Alex thought the ten-to-fifteen might have been okay, but his brother had hammered into him how dangerous that length of time was if things went wrong.

Tracht tapped the contract. “If that was your goal, you might have offered body modifications along with that.”

Oh fuck no. Was that what Tracht had been looking for with the previous one? Alex forced himself to keep smiling, even as he internally shuddered. “I need to be able to function in society when I’m released from the contract. Offering body modifications is too risky.”

He’d met a girl once who had come out of a full body-mod contract. She’d had a split tongue and was tattooed from top to bottom. The worst part had been her missing pinky, which she said had been extracted from her in punishment for something she’d done. No fucking way.

“I can work with that, I suppose,” Tracht said. He kept reading, and Alex saw Stiegler tap her fingers nervously. Was she nervous on his behalf, or on Tracht’s? But she seemed on friendly terms with Tracht, so maybe she thought Alex wasn’t good enough.

Whatever. Tracht was pretty soft-spoken. Not weak or lilty or anything like that, more like the dude permanently spoke at a volume just barely above a whisper. Sure, it was a clear voice with a certain kind of confidence in it, but Alex had met his fair share of scary fuckers and he didn’t think Tracht could even come close.

Alex started a bit when Tracht cleared his throat. “Can you read, Mr. Stone?”

His full name must have been on the contract, but it felt weird for Tracht to address him by his last name when they were in negotiation for a full-service contract. The other potential buyers definitely hadn’t bothered even calling him by name. Alex shrugged to hide his discomfort. “Yeah. Went to school, anyway.”

If he had to choose, he’d take vids over text any day—people used big fancy words way too often, and it really frustrated him. Like his full contract, which he’d tried to read when it was getting written. If Stiegler hadn’t been there to explain it, he probably wouldn’t have been able to understand it at all. He’d shown it to his brother too, who filled in the rest of what Alex hadn’t understood.

“Because I’m going to need somebody who can take notes for me. I can easily train somebody to please me sexually, but I don’t have the time or patience to teach somebody to read.”

Tracht’s eyes met Alex’s in an intense stare that had Alex breaking away just a few seconds later.

“Yeah, I can read and write. I said I could.” It took everything he had not to lash out at the broker when she snorted a laugh.

“Read this, please,” Tracht said, handing the tablet over to Alex. He’d switched over to a text program, and in large letters it said, I consent to a full body inspection.

Alex almost sneered. “What?”

“Read it out loud, please.”

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