Page 11 of The Toymaker
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 saidwhenso 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 instructionsfor 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?”
