Page 25 of Steel & Thunder
He browses the wall’s selection thoroughly, moreso than he did the rest of the shop. He must pick out nearly a dozen things in all sorts of colors and styles. I hold my breath when I see him stop at something pink and lacy but exhale in relief when he skips over it. Not that the rest of them will look any better.
“Done!” Brull rejoins us just as Ironstorm finishes. He’s carrying a small chain in one hand, while his other arm has leathers hanging over it. He hands the chain over to Ironstorm. “If you would do the honors, sir.”
Ironstorm holds the chain aloft, and I can see a padlock at one end. Another one. He takes a hold of the lock, looking at one side closely before flipping it and doing the same with the other, a smile on his face. “Excellent work as always, Brull.” He then looks at me and moves closer.
“I trust this more agreeable than the strip of leather?” He holds the chain in his hand, lock on display for me to see. Strip of leather? Oh.
“I mean, it’s still a collar,” I say flatly, displeasure clear on my face.
“I thought you might say that, but I am afraid it cannot be helped.” I look up at him, clearly about to ask why. “Avakesh are required by law to wear collars within the city.” Of course they are.
“What does it say?” Now that it’s closer, I can see the detail in the metalwork of the collar. The rings making up the chain are almost as small as chainmail, and they shine brightly in the shop’s light. If it weren’t a collar, I might actually like it. I can see something carved onto the lock, symbols or letters, but can’t read them.
“That is my name and address, in the event you were to get...lost.” It’s a fucking pet tag.
“Let me guess: my name is on the other side?” I swear if he put some fucked up pet name on it...
“No, though I suppose we could have it added if you’d like.” He flips the lock over in his hand to show me. It’s not writing but a drawing. Or a symbol, I guess. It’s a diagonal sword with a jagged blade, made to look like a bolt of lightning. The detail is nice, and I realize it’s a match for his tattoo. It doesn’t look bad, not really, but I still don’t want to have this thing locked around my neck.
“What does it mean?” I’d like to know what I have chained around my neck at least.
“I think you would call it a family crest?” He runs his thumb over the lock. “It is the symbol of Clan Ironstorm.”
“Is that what your family is called?” Are all orc families “clans”?
“A long time ago.” He grabs hold of the lock in his hand, grabbing the free end of the chain collar with his other. “Ready?”
“Yes?” Not sure why he’s asking permission now.
He steps forward, moving the collar over my head and laying it against the back of my neck. He meets the two ends in front, looping the lock through the chain and snapping it shut. I try to look down at it, but the short chain means I can only make out the bottom of the lock. I can certainly feel the weight around my neck, though.
“Perfect.” The back of Ironstorm’s hand is against my chest while he runs his thumb over the lock before moving back.
“Here’s the key.” Brull hands over a small key before he grabs the leather hanging over his arm. “Now for the harness. Arms up, pup.”
Up close and hanging from his hands, I can see more clearly that it’s like what I saw on the walls earlier. I lift my arms wordlessly; I have no real options here. I’m naked with two large orcs blocking any path of escape and have no hope of overpowering them. The sooner I do this, the sooner I can get dressed and we can leave.
The leather slips over my head, Brull making sure my arms are going where they should. He adjusts the straps resting on my shoulders before moving down, pulling the lock of my collar up so it’s not laying under the strap across my chest. Moving around me to make sure my shoulders and back are good, he steps to the side so both orcs can admire his handwork.
Brull pulls against the straps running under my arms. “Now, he’s kinda scrawny…” Hey! “But I figure you’ll fatten him up in no time, so you can adjust these here as he fills in.”
“Your work is impeccable as always.” Ironstorm runs his hands lightly along the harness and my skin, making me shiver. Then he grabs me by the chest strap, pulls me to him, and kisses me.
“Mmmf!” I half-mumble, half-yell, not thinking straight enough to protest when his tongue sweeps into my mouth. I forgot he was good at that.
He growls when he releases his hold on me and pulls away. I catch my breath, my eyes locked onto his hungry face. What was that?
A whistle to my right draws me back to my senses. I look between Brull and the open door behind him. At least this time there was only a crowd of one. “Alright, now I believe I said something about picking out underwear, did I not?” Brull grins lecherously.
“That you did my friend.” Ironstorm holds the giant wad of clothing in one hand.
“Hold on, let me grab some chairs.” Brull heads into the backroom as I am handed the pile of underwear. He returns with two stools in hand, setting them down a few feet away from me and the wall of underwear.
I sigh to myself, grabbing one of my choices and letting the others fall to the ground. At least I get to wear underwear. I bend over and step into them when a sudden “tch tch” from my audience freezes me in my tracks and draws my head up.
“Come on now. Give us a little show.” Brull’s request makes me stand up straight, my fist tightening around the briefs in my hand. I look from Brull to Ironstorm, clearly about to voice my displeasure.
“It is okay, David.” Ironstorm gives a small smile, his hand waving away the order. “Just try on the underwear. No theatrics required.”
