At the Red Market
More from the fantasy-world version of The Impulsive Rescue. This is when Desmond and Everett met for the first time in that incarnation of their verse. I'm also using this for the hc_bingo fill "captivity." I owe a lot to my friend for the wording in this piece.
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Desmond wandered, looking around and having no idea how to orient himself in the vast, sprawling market. Haphazard stalls offered all sorts of goods, with sellers shouting out their latest bargains, creating dizzying layers of sound. The cacophony disoriented him, as did the sheer amount of color. Every item he could imagine seemed to pop up from one of the wooden stalls, some of which were draped with bright cloth hangings. Every item, that is, except for the tea he needed to get for his mothers.
As he walked along the packed earth of the market floor, he made his way through a corridor of clothing stalls, some of which had women and men modeling the items for sale. These stalls were larger, with richer silk hangings and changing rooms tucked somewhere almost out of sight. In one of the largest stalls he saw, a group of three women swayed on a makeshift wooden stage to the beat of some strange tune -- to show off the gauzy clothes, or, perhaps, their bodies. He squinted at them -- they weren’t wearing much at all, especially for this close to wintertime. Desmond suspected they might not be selling clothing after all.
White smoke with a thick floral scent emerged from the stall with the swaying women, and Desmond quickened his pace. While there was nothing too overt to mark the area as one with a dubious nature, he knew better than to linger. He didn’t want to be caught in this place, and turned a corner as soon as he was able, taking note of the archway of scrolling, gilded metal that he passed under. While Desmond had no idea where the archway would lead, he didn’t want to walk back through where he had come.
Unfortunately, Desmond’s turn landed him in an even worse area of the market. While the previous corridor had had “clothing” for sale, there was no mistaking the purpose of this area. He wanted to smack himself -- he should have recognized that scrolling archway. It lead right into the Red Market, where sex summons and the like were sold.
Sex summons were magical creatures specifically created for the pleasure of their mortal masters. While it was illegal to buy a human to keep and not-quite-legal -- though mostly allowed -- to purchase the company of your fellow mortal for the night, no such restrictions existed for sex summons. A person could buy a sex summon and keep it for as long as they wanted, though only the seediest and most desperate people ever did.
Desmond’s stomach twisted in painful knots as he made to turn around, but a sudden flow of foot traffic pushed him forward, making him lose sight of the archway. He didn’t want to look at the “wares” for sale, but he felt compelled.
The young men and women standing under each luxurious tent drew his eye -- they all, to a one, had glowing wings that matched either their hair or their eyes and a face prettier than that of an ordinary mortal. Their outfits didn’t bother leaving much to the imagination -- all the sex summons wore sheer white skirts with strips of red fabric hanging from the waistbands and mocking the very idea of concealment. The tops were narrow bands of barely thicker white fabric for the women and tiny white vests of the same material as the women’s tops for the men -- both had red trimming to match the skirts and both seemed to stay on by magic or willpower alone. In addition to the skimpy clothes, each summon wore a delicate silver chain collar around his or her neck.
Before Desmond could try to fight the stifling press of foot traffic and find the archway again, he saw something that stopped him in his tracks. A particularly rough-looking man approached one of the tents. It was draped in seemingly dozens of dark velvet hangings, and several summons stood waiting for sale, their eyes all downcast. An undefined sense of foreboding radiating from the man made Desmond shiver. He knew he shouldn’t stop and stare -- he was annoying the other browsers here and heard their low mutterings easily enough. Still, he couldn’t help himself and pushed himself closer to the rough man.
This man grabbed one of the summons by the chin, without even asking the merchant’s permission. The summon in question had striking amber eyes, pale golden hair and a lithe, tanned body that suited his skimpy outfit a little too well. Was Desmond staring?
Dead gray eyes narrowed in the man’s craggy face. “I want a summon that can put up with a good beating -- can this one take it?” he grunted.
As the man spoke, Desmond saw...true desperation in those shockingly beautiful amber eyes.
The merchant looked at the man, his forehead creasing. “Not really made for that,” he said.
“That so?” the rough man muttered. “I’ll give you five gold for him. Figure if he’s not made for it, you can’t really charge much.”
A long pause stretched the air as Desmond watched from the shadows. “Still worth more than that,” the merchant said, shaking his head.
“Six gold,” the man said. He didn’t let go of the summon, and Desmond’s chest tightened as he watched.
The summon’s golden wings quivered, as if he wanted to fly away. Desmond only wished he could, but he knew summons were compelled to be obedient and couldn’t run, no matter how much they might want to.
An even longer pause pulled the air taut. The merchant shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not what I’m hoping for, but tell you what...if he’s still here when the market closes for the night, I’ll let you have him,” he said.
Desmond’s stomach sank, and the summon trembled with fear that could be seen even from this distance.
“Deal,” the rough man said. Finally, he let go of the summon. “I’ll see you tonight.” As he left the tent with its dark velvet hangings, he was smiling.
The summon was going to go that awful man...unless someone else made a better offer...
Without meaning to, Desmond approached the tent the man had just exited. He, somehow, found himself standing in front of the merchant. “I’d -- I’d like to -- to make an offer,” he muttered, before he realized what he had said.
“Of course,” the merchant said, giving him a friendly smile. He gestured at the summons standing under the tent. “Do you have any particular type in mind?”
What was Desmond doing? His heart thundered in his chest when his eyes fell upon the summon destined for that terrible man. The summon remained silent, but he pleaded with those beautiful eyes of his, without needing any words. Desperation rolled off of him, enough to make Desmond hurt just looking at it. The summon was even lovelier up close, an image of physical perfection -- or he would be, if it weren’t for the fear evident in every line of his body.
Desmond motioned to the frightened summon. “That’s my type,” he said. His stomach sank -- he was already marked for another owner, so Desmond wondered how much he would have to offer to get the merchant to break that deal. “I’ll give you...fifteen gold for him.”
The merchant’s face lit up at that. “Of course, m’lord,” he said, nodding. He gestured at a display of collars. “Do you have any preference on collars?”
He almosted floated away with relief that the merchant had accepted his offer, but did he have any preference on what? For a few seconds, Desmond just stared. This situation was so far beyond anything in his ordinary experience that he couldn’t answer the question at first. Finally, he pointed at a collar with a light yellow stone -- it seemed to match the summon’s coloring, so...that would work? It was the fanciest-looking one on the display, and he did think the summon deserved something nice after going through what he had.
“As you like,” the merchant said. “That’ll be two gold extra, for seventeen gold total.”
Desmond nodded and handed over the money, feeling lucky he even had that much on him. After he had paid, the merchant exchanged the summon’s chain collar for the new fancy one, and he nudged the summon. “You can talk. Introduce yourself,” he muttered.
The summon inclined his head in a small bow. “My name is Everett. It’s an honor and a pleasure to serve you,” he murmured, fear still obvious in his voice. Even when he lifted his head back up, he didn’t look Desmond directly in the eye.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Desmond,” he said, offering him a hand to shake. His cheeks flushed at Everett’s subservient manner, and they flushed more when the summon took his hand, clinging to him. Warmth flared through his body at the contact, and he took another look at Everett -- his beauty was astounding up close. After the summon let him go, Desmond shook his head, trying to clear it -- he didn’t need to get distracted now.
The merchant searched through a wooden chest carved with a design reminiscent of the scrolling archway -- the scrolling grooves were inlaid with gold. He pulled a necklace out of the chest -- it was a clear teardrop-shaped stone the color of Everett’s eyes, wrapped in spiraling gold wire and attached to a thin gold chain. It was the summon’s charm.
“Do you know how these work?” the merchant asked.
Desmond nodded -- he knew how the charms, or trinkets, worked, even if he had never expected to use one. Summons could be sent to a dimension inside their charms, when their owners had no use for them or the summon in question needed to rest and heal after injury. A master could also press on the stone to call a summon to their side.
“Alright then,” the merchant said, handing the charm to him. Desmond put it on.
Everett’s body sagged once he had the trinket around his neck -- he must have been relieved to belong to someone who wasn’t that awful man who had tried to buy him.
While the summon may have been relieved, Desmond’s heart started racing again. He had just bought a sex summon, never mind that he had done it to rescue him.
What did he do now?
* * *
When Desmond and Everett returned to his house on his mothers’ property, that feeling of not knowing what to do hadn’t gone away, not at all. The whole way home, Everett had followed him, silently and obediently in a manner not even his mothers’ servants had ever done. His stomach twisted -- he couldn’t exactly tell Mother or Mami about this.
His mothers had quite low opinions of those who bought and used sex summons, and they might not understand the distinction that Desmond hadn’t purchased Everett to use him that way. As beautiful as the other man was -- and he did think of him as another man -- he wasn’t going to exploit him like that. He shouldn’t have even been tempted to do so, but he was.
Shaking his head yet again, Desmond gestured to the inside of his house. The stone walls were covered in tapestries, many of them depicting scenes of nature, full of snow-capped mountains, lush forests, bright flowers and wide grassy fields. While the expensive tapestries -- gifts from his mothers -- revealed him as a lord, the wooden furniture was relatively simple, with simple, clean lines. Cushions in subdued colors decorated the chairs, and the sofa had actual padding in midnight blue attached to it, matching the chairs’ cushions.
As Desmond gave a tour of his residence, Everett followed him, a few paces behind and as silent as ever. When he had shown him everything -- including Desmond’s bedroom -- they sat down on the sofa, not even an inch of space between them.
“So that’s my house,” he murmured, not sure what to say.
“Thank you for the tour, master,” Everett said, his eyes downcast.
Desmond’s face flushed. Even his mothers’ servants didn’t use terms like “master,” which was unusual for their station. His mothers had always been unusual, though, so he thought the ordinary term “master” to be too much.
“Please, call me Desmond,” he said.
“In public or in private?” the summon asked.
“Uh, everywhere,” he said.
“What...are your plans for me, if I may ask?” Everett murmured.
Desmond startled -- he had no plans. “I -- I kind of...bought you on impulse, so I, uh, don’t have any plans for you. I’m sorry,” he stammered.
Everett shook his head. He grasped Desmond’s hand with both of his, sending sparks through his body and making him flush even more.
“No, no, you don’t need to apologize to me,” Everett breathed, his voice trembling.
Desmond hated the fear on the summon’s face -- he deserved better than to be so terrified.
“I -- I’m not going to...um, make you do anything sexual,” he said, wanting to reassure Everett he wouldn’t exploit him like that awful potential master.
To Desmond’s surprise, the summon’s face fell. He reminded him of a kicked puppy -- what had he said to provoke such a reaction? Wouldn't the other man be happy to be told he wouldn’t be exploited?
“But -- I belong to you. I’ll do anything you desire,” Everett said, looking into Desmond’s eyes, pleading with his own much like he had at the Red Market.
Desmond didn’t need the temptation -- and it was temptation. The summon was as beautiful as sex summons were reputed to be, and he seemed to want Desmond to take him to bed. Never before had he felt desire like this, brilliant and warm, but with a sensation of teetering on the edge of a cliff.
Everett squeezed his hand, making his whole body quiver.
“You would -- truly enjoy it?” Desmond asked, about to step over that cliff-edge. He looked at the other man, noting again the smooth tanned skin, perfect features, striking amber eyes and golden hair that matched his wings. His eyes trailed downward as he took in Everett’s lithe body. He shouldn’t have been looking at him like that.
He shouldn’t have even been tempted by a sex summon, having heard only the worst about those who used the creatures. A being that wasn’t actually human shouldn’t have triggered in him lust greater than anything he had known. Yet, he couldn’t deny his desire, and he couldn’t deny how Everett seemed to want him.
The summon nodded. “I would,” he said, his voice now slightly huskier.
Now was the time to stop this from going any further, Desmond knew. He may not have been able to control the strange existence of his desire, but he could control his actions. Still, Everett gazed at him with lust burning in his beautiful eyes.
Instead of stopping himself, Desmond leaned forward, pressing his lips to Everett’s own.
---------
Desmond wandered, looking around and having no idea how to orient himself in the vast, sprawling market. Haphazard stalls offered all sorts of goods, with sellers shouting out their latest bargains, creating dizzying layers of sound. The cacophony disoriented him, as did the sheer amount of color. Every item he could imagine seemed to pop up from one of the wooden stalls, some of which were draped with bright cloth hangings. Every item, that is, except for the tea he needed to get for his mothers.
As he walked along the packed earth of the market floor, he made his way through a corridor of clothing stalls, some of which had women and men modeling the items for sale. These stalls were larger, with richer silk hangings and changing rooms tucked somewhere almost out of sight. In one of the largest stalls he saw, a group of three women swayed on a makeshift wooden stage to the beat of some strange tune -- to show off the gauzy clothes, or, perhaps, their bodies. He squinted at them -- they weren’t wearing much at all, especially for this close to wintertime. Desmond suspected they might not be selling clothing after all.
White smoke with a thick floral scent emerged from the stall with the swaying women, and Desmond quickened his pace. While there was nothing too overt to mark the area as one with a dubious nature, he knew better than to linger. He didn’t want to be caught in this place, and turned a corner as soon as he was able, taking note of the archway of scrolling, gilded metal that he passed under. While Desmond had no idea where the archway would lead, he didn’t want to walk back through where he had come.
Unfortunately, Desmond’s turn landed him in an even worse area of the market. While the previous corridor had had “clothing” for sale, there was no mistaking the purpose of this area. He wanted to smack himself -- he should have recognized that scrolling archway. It lead right into the Red Market, where sex summons and the like were sold.
Sex summons were magical creatures specifically created for the pleasure of their mortal masters. While it was illegal to buy a human to keep and not-quite-legal -- though mostly allowed -- to purchase the company of your fellow mortal for the night, no such restrictions existed for sex summons. A person could buy a sex summon and keep it for as long as they wanted, though only the seediest and most desperate people ever did.
Desmond’s stomach twisted in painful knots as he made to turn around, but a sudden flow of foot traffic pushed him forward, making him lose sight of the archway. He didn’t want to look at the “wares” for sale, but he felt compelled.
The young men and women standing under each luxurious tent drew his eye -- they all, to a one, had glowing wings that matched either their hair or their eyes and a face prettier than that of an ordinary mortal. Their outfits didn’t bother leaving much to the imagination -- all the sex summons wore sheer white skirts with strips of red fabric hanging from the waistbands and mocking the very idea of concealment. The tops were narrow bands of barely thicker white fabric for the women and tiny white vests of the same material as the women’s tops for the men -- both had red trimming to match the skirts and both seemed to stay on by magic or willpower alone. In addition to the skimpy clothes, each summon wore a delicate silver chain collar around his or her neck.
Before Desmond could try to fight the stifling press of foot traffic and find the archway again, he saw something that stopped him in his tracks. A particularly rough-looking man approached one of the tents. It was draped in seemingly dozens of dark velvet hangings, and several summons stood waiting for sale, their eyes all downcast. An undefined sense of foreboding radiating from the man made Desmond shiver. He knew he shouldn’t stop and stare -- he was annoying the other browsers here and heard their low mutterings easily enough. Still, he couldn’t help himself and pushed himself closer to the rough man.
This man grabbed one of the summons by the chin, without even asking the merchant’s permission. The summon in question had striking amber eyes, pale golden hair and a lithe, tanned body that suited his skimpy outfit a little too well. Was Desmond staring?
Dead gray eyes narrowed in the man’s craggy face. “I want a summon that can put up with a good beating -- can this one take it?” he grunted.
As the man spoke, Desmond saw...true desperation in those shockingly beautiful amber eyes.
The merchant looked at the man, his forehead creasing. “Not really made for that,” he said.
“That so?” the rough man muttered. “I’ll give you five gold for him. Figure if he’s not made for it, you can’t really charge much.”
A long pause stretched the air as Desmond watched from the shadows. “Still worth more than that,” the merchant said, shaking his head.
“Six gold,” the man said. He didn’t let go of the summon, and Desmond’s chest tightened as he watched.
The summon’s golden wings quivered, as if he wanted to fly away. Desmond only wished he could, but he knew summons were compelled to be obedient and couldn’t run, no matter how much they might want to.
An even longer pause pulled the air taut. The merchant shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not what I’m hoping for, but tell you what...if he’s still here when the market closes for the night, I’ll let you have him,” he said.
Desmond’s stomach sank, and the summon trembled with fear that could be seen even from this distance.
“Deal,” the rough man said. Finally, he let go of the summon. “I’ll see you tonight.” As he left the tent with its dark velvet hangings, he was smiling.
The summon was going to go that awful man...unless someone else made a better offer...
Without meaning to, Desmond approached the tent the man had just exited. He, somehow, found himself standing in front of the merchant. “I’d -- I’d like to -- to make an offer,” he muttered, before he realized what he had said.
“Of course,” the merchant said, giving him a friendly smile. He gestured at the summons standing under the tent. “Do you have any particular type in mind?”
What was Desmond doing? His heart thundered in his chest when his eyes fell upon the summon destined for that terrible man. The summon remained silent, but he pleaded with those beautiful eyes of his, without needing any words. Desperation rolled off of him, enough to make Desmond hurt just looking at it. The summon was even lovelier up close, an image of physical perfection -- or he would be, if it weren’t for the fear evident in every line of his body.
Desmond motioned to the frightened summon. “That’s my type,” he said. His stomach sank -- he was already marked for another owner, so Desmond wondered how much he would have to offer to get the merchant to break that deal. “I’ll give you...fifteen gold for him.”
The merchant’s face lit up at that. “Of course, m’lord,” he said, nodding. He gestured at a display of collars. “Do you have any preference on collars?”
He almosted floated away with relief that the merchant had accepted his offer, but did he have any preference on what? For a few seconds, Desmond just stared. This situation was so far beyond anything in his ordinary experience that he couldn’t answer the question at first. Finally, he pointed at a collar with a light yellow stone -- it seemed to match the summon’s coloring, so...that would work? It was the fanciest-looking one on the display, and he did think the summon deserved something nice after going through what he had.
“As you like,” the merchant said. “That’ll be two gold extra, for seventeen gold total.”
Desmond nodded and handed over the money, feeling lucky he even had that much on him. After he had paid, the merchant exchanged the summon’s chain collar for the new fancy one, and he nudged the summon. “You can talk. Introduce yourself,” he muttered.
The summon inclined his head in a small bow. “My name is Everett. It’s an honor and a pleasure to serve you,” he murmured, fear still obvious in his voice. Even when he lifted his head back up, he didn’t look Desmond directly in the eye.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Desmond,” he said, offering him a hand to shake. His cheeks flushed at Everett’s subservient manner, and they flushed more when the summon took his hand, clinging to him. Warmth flared through his body at the contact, and he took another look at Everett -- his beauty was astounding up close. After the summon let him go, Desmond shook his head, trying to clear it -- he didn’t need to get distracted now.
The merchant searched through a wooden chest carved with a design reminiscent of the scrolling archway -- the scrolling grooves were inlaid with gold. He pulled a necklace out of the chest -- it was a clear teardrop-shaped stone the color of Everett’s eyes, wrapped in spiraling gold wire and attached to a thin gold chain. It was the summon’s charm.
“Do you know how these work?” the merchant asked.
Desmond nodded -- he knew how the charms, or trinkets, worked, even if he had never expected to use one. Summons could be sent to a dimension inside their charms, when their owners had no use for them or the summon in question needed to rest and heal after injury. A master could also press on the stone to call a summon to their side.
“Alright then,” the merchant said, handing the charm to him. Desmond put it on.
Everett’s body sagged once he had the trinket around his neck -- he must have been relieved to belong to someone who wasn’t that awful man who had tried to buy him.
While the summon may have been relieved, Desmond’s heart started racing again. He had just bought a sex summon, never mind that he had done it to rescue him.
What did he do now?
* * *
When Desmond and Everett returned to his house on his mothers’ property, that feeling of not knowing what to do hadn’t gone away, not at all. The whole way home, Everett had followed him, silently and obediently in a manner not even his mothers’ servants had ever done. His stomach twisted -- he couldn’t exactly tell Mother or Mami about this.
His mothers had quite low opinions of those who bought and used sex summons, and they might not understand the distinction that Desmond hadn’t purchased Everett to use him that way. As beautiful as the other man was -- and he did think of him as another man -- he wasn’t going to exploit him like that. He shouldn’t have even been tempted to do so, but he was.
Shaking his head yet again, Desmond gestured to the inside of his house. The stone walls were covered in tapestries, many of them depicting scenes of nature, full of snow-capped mountains, lush forests, bright flowers and wide grassy fields. While the expensive tapestries -- gifts from his mothers -- revealed him as a lord, the wooden furniture was relatively simple, with simple, clean lines. Cushions in subdued colors decorated the chairs, and the sofa had actual padding in midnight blue attached to it, matching the chairs’ cushions.
As Desmond gave a tour of his residence, Everett followed him, a few paces behind and as silent as ever. When he had shown him everything -- including Desmond’s bedroom -- they sat down on the sofa, not even an inch of space between them.
“So that’s my house,” he murmured, not sure what to say.
“Thank you for the tour, master,” Everett said, his eyes downcast.
Desmond’s face flushed. Even his mothers’ servants didn’t use terms like “master,” which was unusual for their station. His mothers had always been unusual, though, so he thought the ordinary term “master” to be too much.
“Please, call me Desmond,” he said.
“In public or in private?” the summon asked.
“Uh, everywhere,” he said.
“What...are your plans for me, if I may ask?” Everett murmured.
Desmond startled -- he had no plans. “I -- I kind of...bought you on impulse, so I, uh, don’t have any plans for you. I’m sorry,” he stammered.
Everett shook his head. He grasped Desmond’s hand with both of his, sending sparks through his body and making him flush even more.
“No, no, you don’t need to apologize to me,” Everett breathed, his voice trembling.
Desmond hated the fear on the summon’s face -- he deserved better than to be so terrified.
“I -- I’m not going to...um, make you do anything sexual,” he said, wanting to reassure Everett he wouldn’t exploit him like that awful potential master.
To Desmond’s surprise, the summon’s face fell. He reminded him of a kicked puppy -- what had he said to provoke such a reaction? Wouldn't the other man be happy to be told he wouldn’t be exploited?
“But -- I belong to you. I’ll do anything you desire,” Everett said, looking into Desmond’s eyes, pleading with his own much like he had at the Red Market.
Desmond didn’t need the temptation -- and it was temptation. The summon was as beautiful as sex summons were reputed to be, and he seemed to want Desmond to take him to bed. Never before had he felt desire like this, brilliant and warm, but with a sensation of teetering on the edge of a cliff.
Everett squeezed his hand, making his whole body quiver.
“You would -- truly enjoy it?” Desmond asked, about to step over that cliff-edge. He looked at the other man, noting again the smooth tanned skin, perfect features, striking amber eyes and golden hair that matched his wings. His eyes trailed downward as he took in Everett’s lithe body. He shouldn’t have been looking at him like that.
He shouldn’t have even been tempted by a sex summon, having heard only the worst about those who used the creatures. A being that wasn’t actually human shouldn’t have triggered in him lust greater than anything he had known. Yet, he couldn’t deny his desire, and he couldn’t deny how Everett seemed to want him.
The summon nodded. “I would,” he said, his voice now slightly huskier.
Now was the time to stop this from going any further, Desmond knew. He may not have been able to control the strange existence of his desire, but he could control his actions. Still, Everett gazed at him with lust burning in his beautiful eyes.
Instead of stopping himself, Desmond leaned forward, pressing his lips to Everett’s own.