Page 2 of The Toymaker
When he entered the edge of the city, he paused on the side of the street to be out of the way of people walking and horses trotting by. While Kit hadn’t grown up in Raven’s Landing, he’d been around for a couple of years and knew where to go for the most part. He could look at the noticeboard right then, but he wasn’t in the mood.
Raven’s Landing had plenty of inns. Unfortunately, most were too expensive to stay in for long, and Kit wasn’t about to drain his savings. He chose a cheap one that thankfully had cleansheets. He spent a week doing mostly nothing except sitting around and stewing in his failures.
He needed the time to finish healing and not look like a sad sack so the toymaker would take him. Coming in with marks from his last owner's punishment was a bad idea.
He also had to think about what would happen if he wasn’t taken on. What if the toymaker didn’t want him for a reason Kit couldn't control? He would never have a chance to get back with Perry, and the thought made him dissolve in tears on his bed. How could he have turned into such a failure?
He felt like he could manage himself decently after a week, and the welts were healed, so he finally left the inn. The loss still stung, and he figured having something to focus on could help. He had a chance to not be such a disappointment, and he better not waste it. He bought a spinach bun from a stall to eat as he walked.
The notice board in the center of a green to one side of the city was covered with bits of parchment. Some were so old, the writing couldn’t be made out anymore. Kit inched around a fairy with his spread burgundy wings blocking half of the damn board. Rude. He needed to go stretch his wings elsewhere.
What if the job had already been filled? Kit scanned the notices until he found the right one. The fact it was still there meant little since plenty of people didn’t bother to take them down later.
The toymaker didn’t make soft animals and dolls for little children to play with. That was easy enough to tell right away since his shop was located in The Edge. The college, only partly named that since it was on the edge of the city, dealt in all manner of sexual things. If any person wanted to learn how to safely wield an implement, a toy, dominate, submit, or any other number of things, they could go there. Since the grounds heldmore shops, rooms to stay in, various businesses, and a couple of taverns, it was almost like a whole town within the city.
Kit read what the toymaker wanted while he finished his bun. The pay was low, which made sense considering he’d have food and a roof over his head. Part of what was required made him want to say no, but Perry didn’t like his bratty streak. If someone wanted to be a pleasure slave, their first instinct shouldn’t be to say no when something was wanted of them unless it was harmful.
Maybe once he was the toymaker’s slave, all of the faults that had cropped up in him could be forced out. Perry hadn’t been averse to punishing him, but Kit needed someone to force him to behave and use an even firmer hand. Perhaps the brattiness could be whipped out of him if combined with the requirement.
The notice said punishment would be administered for any disobedience, and he’d be responsible for fulfilling all of the sexual needs of the toymaker and his apprentice. Anyone who applied needed a decent pain tolerance along with the willingness to be shared and used by strangers at certain times. They also needed to be prepared to do basic work such as cooking and cleaning. It wasn’t for someone with no experience in being a pleasure slave or anyone looking for a quick job.
The final requirement was also non-negotiable.
Kit had no problem with the other stuff, and he enjoyed being used in that fashion. The last requirement wasn’t his favorite thing, but he could deal with it. A year wasn’t forever. He made his way through the busy streets toward the east side. Raven’s Landing would be holding a fair quite soon, and he wanted to go. He likely wouldn’t since he’d possibly be tied up with other commitments.
He let out a giggle at his private joke, and a cat fairy at a stall selling libby leaf pies gave him an odd look, not that Kit cared.Couldn’t someone laugh if they thought of something funny? Who cared if he was by himself?
The lord’s Castle was on the south end, and he had a better view of it as he hurried over the largest stone bridge spanning the wide river that cut the city in half. Docks were farther north along with the fish market. Ravens flew overhead, and a cloud of gulls rose into the sky from the riverside.
If the toymaker wouldn’t take him, Kit would tell Perry and beg for a last chance. If the answer was no, he would have to get a regular job and find a place to live. His heart sank at the idea as he walked by a stall with a man using his fire magic to cook meat on skewers.
The Edge had a set of massive gates that were left open, and a couple of guards hung around the small stone building just inside. Anybody could come in except for children, of course. Kit was obviously a grown-up, so the guards didn’t pay much attention to him.
For a moment, he could have almost pretended he was in the normal part of the city. The first few buildings were innocent. One was to sign up for lessons and demonstrations, and a person could pay fees including rent if they wished to live in one of the dorm buildings. A few were for instructors and teachers. Another was for shopkeepers to renew their licenses and pay the rent for their business.
Beyond them and farther in, he spotted a man chained in a square frame while someone practiced on him with a whip. The ragged, bleeding cut on the victim’s lower back said the wielder was new to using the whip on a live person, and he’d messed up earlier.
Since the victim was enduring more lashes, that meant he was a prisoner. They didn’t get to say no to anything, were used for live practice by those who hadn’t mastered the whip, and were generally treated like dirt.
A rope strung on little wooden posts marked off the area so nobody accidentally got too close to the student holding the whip. An instructor in a blue shirt told the student to adjust his positioning again and called for another ten lashes. The prisoner tried to beg through the gag strapped into his mouth as he pulled on the chains keeping his limbs spread.
Nobody cared about his misery, and the whip licked across his abused back once more. Kit didn’t like the justice system there or how the King let his lords have too much leeway when deciding things for their holds. At the same time, he couldn’t feel sorry for him either since those who suffered the bullwhip lessons were guilty of serious crimes. The prisoner was either a murderer or a rapist. Or perhaps both.
The sounds of the whip cracking faded as he hurried on. Wooden signs by certain buildings listed teachers and what classes were held there. Besides sexual lessons, students could also learn things like math and history since there was no other school for higher education in the area. He passed a pagoda where in the shade, a class on safe suspension was being taught.
Kit came to the edge of a tiny garden. Beyond the flowerbeds and rose bushes, a young man in a sky-blue brocade coat and red-rimmed spectacles rested on a bench with his legs tucked under him. His long, red hair caught Kit's attention, and he slowed.
Good Elira, hair that long must have taken a while to grow out, and such a vivid red was rather rare among fairies. He held an item that Kit couldn’t quite see, and he hastily tucked it in his coat like it was something he shouldn’t have when he noticed he was being watched. The sun reflecting off of his spectacles made it impossible to see his eyes or tell what color they were.
Kit hastily averted his gaze and walked away, although he could still feel the man’s gaze on him. He shouldn’t have been staring like an idiot. Uncle had told him before because he’dtended to stop and gawp at things. He hadn’t noticed a badge on the man’s coat, so it was hard to tell if he was a student or not. Oh, well. It was none of his business.
Signs pointed out where to go in general, and he made his way to the shop side. Despite being there once before and the signs, he still managed to go around in a circle. Eventually, he found High Street and passed a tea shop. Through the open door, he spotted a naked woman kneeling by a man seated at a table.
While no classes were held in the shopping area, it wasn’t unusual to see nude pleasure slaves. People couldn’t go around Raven’s Landing naked, but at the college, no one cared. A slave could even be punished or used in the open.
The uphill walk slowed him down as he passed a ropemaker, someone who sold gold collars that could be engraved with names, a jeweler, and a bookshop with a sign promising he’d never find a better selection of naughty books. Finally, he saw the place he wanted.
The sign for Pleasure and Play hung on an iron rod that stuck out. He passed a woman leading a naked man dressed like a puppy on a lead and entered through the glass door with gold lettering. A painted sign with the word “open” hung on the inside.
