Fic : Two Slaves 9/?
Title: Two Slaves 9/?
Words: Approx 3500
Rating : R
Characters : House/Wilson, Foreman/Cuddy
Contains : Slavery AU, corporal punishment of various kinds, some Master/slave non-con (not explicit). Dark! versions of all characters except House & Wilson.
Summary : Greg has been owned by Doctor Cuddy for a long time, he's settled into a routine but his world is disrupted by the arrival of Doctor Foreman, and his new slave - Jimmy. With their masters working closely together on redesigning the hospital the two slaves find themselves thrown together as well.
Previous part
"Doctor Cuddy!"
Cuddy turned reluctantly, recognising the voice of the person calling her across the lobby of the hospital. She was on her way back from a meeting with some insurance companies and was not in the mood for dealing with Vogler. She smiled insincerely at him.
"Mr Vogler," she answered politely. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Greg had stopped and was kneeling by her side, as he always did when Vogler was talking to her - and when no-one else was. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to talk to you about the arrangements for the fund raiser. I'm lending three of my slaves to the hospital for the proceedings, they should bring in a few dollars, but I noticed that there are no other slaves listed on the roster."
"Greg will be helping out where needed as usual," Cuddy said, although she knew that wasn't what Vogler was referring to. Vogler had a large stable of slaves but was always keen to 'sample' other people's possessions. Some of the senior doctors who held a slave or two would lend them to the hospital for the night to raise money. Cuddy had not yet done the rounds to see who was prepared to offer their slaves up for 'entertainment' for the night.
Vogler chuckled. "Gregory may be appealing to you but I'm sure most of our donor's tastes don't run to crippled, middle aged slaves. I was thinking more along the lines of that attractive young slave that belongs to Doctor Foreman. With the right grooming and presentation he could be a drawcard. He's a mind-wipe I believe? They're usually very well trained and pleasing, if simple minded."
Cuddy felt, rather than saw, Greg twitch where he was kneeling, and she was fairly sure that it wasn't the pain of kneeling that was causing him discomfort. She wondered briefly if she'd done the right thing by allowing the two slaves to spend so much time together. It had seemed to settle Greg down somewhat, and also provided her with some handy leverage over the often troublesome slave, but there could be drawbacks to it. What disposition Foreman made of Jimmy was none of Greg's business.
She was also fairly sure that Eric wouldn't want his slave hired out for the night, he was fastidious in many ways, and the idea of his slave being used by a succession of other people would not appeal to him - he'd already refused many offers for Jimmy's services by hospital personnel. But Eric was also attuned to office politics and they did need to keep Vogler onside until after the renovation work had been done and they had no further need of him.
"'I'm sure Doctor Foreman isn't making as much use of his slave's services now that he is sleeping with you, Doctor Cuddy," Vogler continued, letting her know that he knew of their relationship. Not that it was any of Vogler's business who she slept with. "You may be able to... persuade him to do the right thing by the hospital."
She had half a mind to tell him to take his millions and get the fuck out of her hospital just for those comments - but they still needed him. She gritted her teeth.
"I will talk to him about it. Now, if there is nothing further, I have an appointment at two."
"Of course Doctor Cuddy, carry on." He said, as if she were a slave herself, and walked off. She stared after him, wondering if he could feel the knives in his back.
Greg got to his feet with his usual struggle. "You need to get rid of him; he's going to destroy this hospital." He said bluntly, if quietly.
She knew that Greg had been here as long as herself, and had intimate knowledge of all the hospital's workings - a side effect of all the hours he spent in her company and working for her - but he very rarely expressed any sort of opinion, let alone one as direct as that. She stared at him and he lifted his chin defiantly.
"Go into my office, put your cane on my desk, drop your pants and stand in front of the desk waiting for me." She said to him firmly, she couldn't allow him to get away with comments like that - even if she agreed with him.
He stared at her for a moment and she thought he was going to refuse, which would mean calling security and an official whipping, but then he stalked off, obviously angry.
She lingered by reception for a couple of minutes picking up her messages to give him time to stew and then went to her office. She didn't bother closing the door - it never did her reputation any harm when people saw her disciplining her slave.
Greg had put his cane down as ordered and was standing in front of the desk but his pants were still firmly fastened.
"Pants and boxers then, and another stroke for disobedience."
He still hesitated but finally pushed the clothes down around his ankles and stood there, both his genitals and the hideous scar on his right leg exposed. She took a moment to stare, knowing how much he hated that, and then tapped the desk.
"Bend over."
When he was settled, ass pointing towards the open door, she picked up his walking cane. It was lightweight, and designed to both be a support for a crippled slave and an instrument of punishment for the same slave.
She didn't believe in staging dramatic scenes with slaves, just efficient punishment, so she quickly delivered four strokes across his ass, strokes which he took stoically and with only a slight twitch. She took a quick look at the four red welts which had formed and then told him to pull up his pants and resume his usual station behind her desk.
She went back to work - she'd talk to Eric about Jimmy's role in the fundraiser tonight.
Greg's discomfort when he was sitting on his bed that night didn't escape James. Greg had been distracted and restless all through his lesson tonight.
To James relief after that one night when he'd been gagged and had to kneel by the front door for the whole evening their usual pattern had been resumed. His master spent so much time in Doctor Cuddy's house now that James wondered if he had thought about moving in, or at least sleeping over sometimes. Sometimes he made little fantasies for himself about that happening. He'd share this room with Greg - he didn't dare hope for a bigger one - and they'd help each other with the household duties. He'd be able to get a lot more studying done and he could help Greg with any heavy work. They'd be together every night, all night, and Greg could teach him so much. The more he learned the more he wanted to learn, about medicine, and about the world beyond his slavery.
He'd thought that Greg quite enjoyed his company too; although he often grumbled and complained about it he seemed to relax a bit when he was alone with James, showing a warmer side to his nature than he did at the hospital.
Tonight, though, it seemed that he didn't want James there at all.
"Is something wrong, Greg?" He asked, worried by his friend's distraction. "We don't have to do this tonight if you aren't feeling well."
"Giving up already? You'll never become a doctor like that, Jimmy," Greg snapped at him.
"I'll never be a doctor anyway," James pointed out. "I'm a slave."
"I know you're a fucking slave. You make it pretty damned obvious."
"The collar does tend to give it away," James fingered his collar, it was lightweight but secure. Foreman's name, address and phone number were in fine print on the outside, just as Cuddy's were on Greg's. The collars were more symbolic than functional - all slaves were micro-chipped for easy retrieval if they decided to run away - but the penalty for a slave removing their collar for any reason was at least fifty strokes of the whip and a mandatory retraining session. Nor was a slave ever allowed to cover up their collar, lest they be mistaken for a free person.
"It's not just the collar; it's the way you kiss everyone's ass."
Yes, Greg was definitely in a mood tonight - he usually only got like this when he had a case he couldn't solve. James had witnessed him snarling at Chase more than once, probably the only person in the hospital who would tolerate it - besides James.
He shut the book he was studying. Leaving wasn't an option, unless he wanted to aggressively stalk into the tiny bathroom, but he could see he wasn't going to get any work done tonight.
"Is it your leg? Is the pain bad tonight? Would you like me to massage it?" He started to reach for Greg's leg but Greg jerked it away with a hiss.
"I'm always in pain, but it's not my leg you'd have to massage."
James studied him and then suddenly realised why he was shifting around restlessly.
"Doctor Cuddy paddled you?"
"Oh no - she used a cane, it was all sorts of kinky fun, you should have been there."
"Why were you being punished?" James asked - refraining from saying that he wished he could have been there, in Greg's place, taking the caning for him - Greg would think that was stupid.
Greg looked away, not answering and James sighed. He guessed it didn't matter why Greg was caned anyway. Physical punishment was a part of all slave's lives, however well trained and compliant they might be - and Greg was neither of those things.
"Pull down your pants, let me have a look," he said, getting up off the bed.
Greg stared at him.
"I want to make sure that there's no infection - call it on the job training," James continued. "Practical, hands on experience."
There was really no medical necessity for him to stare at Greg's ass, they both knew that, but he wanted to do it anyway - he wanted Greg to know that someone cared what the hell happened to him. He kept staring steadily at Greg and finally Greg pushed his pants down and rolled over on the bed.
There were four cane marks across Greg's ass, each one straight and firm. They were red and angry but not inflamed.
"You can just stare at them or you can put some of this on them," Greg said, handing over a tube of ointment he'd retrieved from somewhere. James had become used to Greg having a variety of things hidden away so he accepted the analgesic cream without comment.
He squeezed out a little onto his fingers and then began smoothing it onto the welts. Greg hissed once and then went silent as James went to work.
"Maximus Gluteus," James murmured as he applied the cream, trying to break the odd tension that had come up between them, "Gluteus Medius, Gluteal cleft."
"Congratulations, you pass Butt Anatomy 101," Greg said, but James could hear a smile in his voice.
"Did she let you have your Vicodin at least?" James asked as he finished up.
Greg snorted, "Cuddy doesn't believe in painkillers after a punishment. If I'm lucky I'll get one before I got to bed."
If he didn't he'd be awake all night, James knew. "Bitch," he said forcefully. Greg stared at him in surprise.
"Now James, what would Master Foreman do if he could hear his sweet slave calling his fuck buddy that?”
"I don't care," James said, pleased that he seemed to have improved Greg's mood at least, Greg always liked it when he showed some defiance against free people, even if it was in the relative safety of this room.
"Are you finished, or are you going to play with my ass all night?" Greg asked and James realised he'd been sitting there with his hand still on Greg’s butt. He jerked his hand away and muttered a 'sorry'.
Greg pulled his pants back up and sat up. He was about to say something when the signal light went off.
"Foreman was quick tonight, hope he didn't fire too soon and leave Mistress Cuddy hanging - she's like a bear with a sore head when she doesn't get any." Greg was quick on James' heels as they left the room and James felt a warm rush of pleasure when he realised that Greg was hurrying for his sake - so that he wouldn't get in trouble with Foreman.
Foreman wasn't pleased when Cuddy asked him about lending Jimmy to the hospital for the fund raiser. He wasn't naive; he'd been to other functions where there were slaves available to be hired for the night, or for a session. He realised that Jimmy was an attractive slave, that was one of the reasons he’d picked him out himself. The mind-wiping had produced an air of innocence to the slave which was missing in an older, more cynical slave, like Greg.
It wasn't that Foreman was even using Jimmy much himself at the moment. Now that he was with Lisa he was only using the slave for a quick warm up in the morning, he hadn't fucked him since shortly after meeting Lisa, and he wouldn't while they were together. He didn't think it was right, although he knew many couples didn't object to their partners using slaves when necessary.
No, he just didn't like to lend his belongings, he never had. He'd worked too hard to earn enough money to buy the best slave he could afford and he didn't see why he should let other people take advantage of that - even if it was to raise money for the hospital. Besides, one of them might damage Jimmy and put him out of action, and Jimmy had proven himself to be very useful, both around the apartment and at the office. He was coming along nicely under Foreman's tutelage, and he wouldn't want to have to start over with a new slave.
Lisa had used her many powers of persuasion on him and he'd ended up agreeing to add Jimmy to the roster. It had somewhat soured the mood of the evening though so he'd called it a night early, picked up Jimmy and left.
Once in the apartment he signalled for Jimmy to fetch him a snack and a drink and turned on the television, making himself comfortable. Jimmy returned quickly with the requested items and then knelt by his chair, waiting for further instructions. Foreman left him there for a while, the slave would probably enjoy ten minutes of watching television, even if was a mindless medical drama, before he went back to work and he'd been good enough lately to earn a little treat. On an impulse he took a morsel of food from his plate and offered it to him. Jimmy looked surprised, Foreman wasn't in the habit of hand feeding him, but took it readily enough. He really was a good slave; Vogler had better take good care of him.
"Where are you going, Greg? We're supposed to be going to the laundry." James pointed out as he followed Greg through the hospital corridors.
"Shortcut," Greg declared breezily as he dodged past an orderly wheeling a bed. It always amazed James how quickly Greg could move when he wanted to.
He didn't see any way that cutting through radiology on the third floor could possibly be a shortcut to the laundry, which was in the basement, but after a brief moment of indecision he shrugged and followed Greg - it wasn't like he wanted to go to the laundry after all, and Greg was good at making up reasons for their presence if they were questioned.
He was hurrying to catch up with Greg when he dodged around a wheelchair in the corridor and ran into a doctor hurrying in the other direction. He fell heavily to the ground.
"Doctor Wilson? James? Is that you? What are you..." he heard someone say and looked up to see the doctor looking down at him, one hand outstretched to help him up. He saw the other man's eyes flick to his collar and realisation come over him, the hand was hastily withdrawn and James struggled to his knees.
"My mistake - I thought you were someone... “the doctor said, his face reddening and then he quickly turned and went, without another word. A few people had stopped and were staring and then suddenly Greg was there.
"Get up," he said quietly.
James struggled to his feet, his wrist hurting where he'd put his hands out to break his fall.
"Come on, quickly, let's go." Greg said and started back the way they'd come - his mission on the third floor apparently abandoned.
"He called me Wilson, Doctor Wilson," James said. "He knew me, from before. I need to talk to him. He can tell me..."
Greg looked at him intently. "Forget about it."
"But..."
"You need to forget it, and hope he does."
"But he might know what I did, and who I am."
"You're not supposed to know! That's the whole point of the mind-wipe. You start figuring out who you were before, and what you did, and they'll ship you back to a Facility to have what's left of your brain destroyed. And when they've done that they'll send you on to some other Master. Foreman will get your sales value back, and buy himself another pretty slave."
If he got taken away from here he'd never see Greg again. James fell quiet, his mind reeling. He so wanted to know, but he didn't want to leave here.
The elevator arrived at its destination and they walked down the corridor towards the laundry where they were to spend their afternoon.
"Somebody screwed up. If you used to be a doctor you shouldn't have been sold to another one - too much chance of you colliding with your old life, and now you've managed to do it - literally. You have to hope that guy doesn't blab to anyone. Or that he was wrong and you just look a bit like this James Wilson guy." James could tell Greg didn't believe that.
They were at the laundry door so they fell silent as they reported in for work. James felt bruised from his fall, and stunned from what had happened.
Wilson, that guy had called him Wilson. James Wilson. And most importantly he'd called him a doctor. James had hated hospitals since the first time he'd entered one with Doctor Foreman, only a few months before, but he loved learning about medicine. Now he understood why some things had felt familiar, the little girl having chemotherapy, the pictures in the textbooks. He wondered what sort of doctor he had been.
The free person in charge of the laundry handed them both massive bags of washed linen which James dragged onto the trolley. They wheeled it down to a small, windowless room where they would take out the sheets, press them and fold them into neat rectangles. Good mindless work for slaves who couldn't handle anything complicated, James thought bitterly. At least they were alone here.
"We could tell Doctor Cuddy that I used to be a doctor, I could learn again, I could help you." James said.
"Didn't you listen to what I said? And why would Cuddy bother to have you retrained? How long would that take? You tell her you'll be getting a whipping for being insolent and then a trip back to the Facility." Greg seemed almost desperate as he extracted a pile of sheets from the bag and began pressing them. "Keep your mouth shut about it. I'll try and find out whether that doctor blabs to anyone, you stay out of his way."
James still felt stubborn about it, if Greg could have some value to the hospital for his medical skills why couldn't he?
"Look, I wish you could help me. I wish I could have one of those fancy offices and you could have the one next to me. I wish we could work on cases together. I wish we didn't have these damned," Greg tugged at his collar, "things around our neck. But it's not happening, not in our lifetime. You need to accept that. I know how things work."
"I still want to keep studying medicine," James said at last. He took the pressed sheets from Greg's hands and began to fold them. "I want you to keep teaching me."
Greg ran a hand through his short hair and then finally nodded. "Yeah. We can keep doing that. Just... don't ever let anyone know, okay?"
"I won't." James folded another sheet. "I'm glad Doctor Foreman bought me." He looked at Greg, making sure Greg understood what he was saying.
Greg swallowed hard and then nodded. "Yeah, me too."
James give him that little smile that he did, the one that made Greg want to do anything that he asked, and went back to folding the sheets. They worked in silence for a couple of minutes and then James muttered quietly, "But I still want to know who I was."
Greg shook his head in despair.
Words: Approx 3500
Rating : R
Characters : House/Wilson, Foreman/Cuddy
Contains : Slavery AU, corporal punishment of various kinds, some Master/slave non-con (not explicit). Dark! versions of all characters except House & Wilson.
Summary : Greg has been owned by Doctor Cuddy for a long time, he's settled into a routine but his world is disrupted by the arrival of Doctor Foreman, and his new slave - Jimmy. With their masters working closely together on redesigning the hospital the two slaves find themselves thrown together as well.
Previous part
"Doctor Cuddy!"
Cuddy turned reluctantly, recognising the voice of the person calling her across the lobby of the hospital. She was on her way back from a meeting with some insurance companies and was not in the mood for dealing with Vogler. She smiled insincerely at him.
"Mr Vogler," she answered politely. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Greg had stopped and was kneeling by her side, as he always did when Vogler was talking to her - and when no-one else was. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to talk to you about the arrangements for the fund raiser. I'm lending three of my slaves to the hospital for the proceedings, they should bring in a few dollars, but I noticed that there are no other slaves listed on the roster."
"Greg will be helping out where needed as usual," Cuddy said, although she knew that wasn't what Vogler was referring to. Vogler had a large stable of slaves but was always keen to 'sample' other people's possessions. Some of the senior doctors who held a slave or two would lend them to the hospital for the night to raise money. Cuddy had not yet done the rounds to see who was prepared to offer their slaves up for 'entertainment' for the night.
Vogler chuckled. "Gregory may be appealing to you but I'm sure most of our donor's tastes don't run to crippled, middle aged slaves. I was thinking more along the lines of that attractive young slave that belongs to Doctor Foreman. With the right grooming and presentation he could be a drawcard. He's a mind-wipe I believe? They're usually very well trained and pleasing, if simple minded."
Cuddy felt, rather than saw, Greg twitch where he was kneeling, and she was fairly sure that it wasn't the pain of kneeling that was causing him discomfort. She wondered briefly if she'd done the right thing by allowing the two slaves to spend so much time together. It had seemed to settle Greg down somewhat, and also provided her with some handy leverage over the often troublesome slave, but there could be drawbacks to it. What disposition Foreman made of Jimmy was none of Greg's business.
She was also fairly sure that Eric wouldn't want his slave hired out for the night, he was fastidious in many ways, and the idea of his slave being used by a succession of other people would not appeal to him - he'd already refused many offers for Jimmy's services by hospital personnel. But Eric was also attuned to office politics and they did need to keep Vogler onside until after the renovation work had been done and they had no further need of him.
"'I'm sure Doctor Foreman isn't making as much use of his slave's services now that he is sleeping with you, Doctor Cuddy," Vogler continued, letting her know that he knew of their relationship. Not that it was any of Vogler's business who she slept with. "You may be able to... persuade him to do the right thing by the hospital."
She had half a mind to tell him to take his millions and get the fuck out of her hospital just for those comments - but they still needed him. She gritted her teeth.
"I will talk to him about it. Now, if there is nothing further, I have an appointment at two."
"Of course Doctor Cuddy, carry on." He said, as if she were a slave herself, and walked off. She stared after him, wondering if he could feel the knives in his back.
Greg got to his feet with his usual struggle. "You need to get rid of him; he's going to destroy this hospital." He said bluntly, if quietly.
She knew that Greg had been here as long as herself, and had intimate knowledge of all the hospital's workings - a side effect of all the hours he spent in her company and working for her - but he very rarely expressed any sort of opinion, let alone one as direct as that. She stared at him and he lifted his chin defiantly.
"Go into my office, put your cane on my desk, drop your pants and stand in front of the desk waiting for me." She said to him firmly, she couldn't allow him to get away with comments like that - even if she agreed with him.
He stared at her for a moment and she thought he was going to refuse, which would mean calling security and an official whipping, but then he stalked off, obviously angry.
She lingered by reception for a couple of minutes picking up her messages to give him time to stew and then went to her office. She didn't bother closing the door - it never did her reputation any harm when people saw her disciplining her slave.
Greg had put his cane down as ordered and was standing in front of the desk but his pants were still firmly fastened.
"Pants and boxers then, and another stroke for disobedience."
He still hesitated but finally pushed the clothes down around his ankles and stood there, both his genitals and the hideous scar on his right leg exposed. She took a moment to stare, knowing how much he hated that, and then tapped the desk.
"Bend over."
When he was settled, ass pointing towards the open door, she picked up his walking cane. It was lightweight, and designed to both be a support for a crippled slave and an instrument of punishment for the same slave.
She didn't believe in staging dramatic scenes with slaves, just efficient punishment, so she quickly delivered four strokes across his ass, strokes which he took stoically and with only a slight twitch. She took a quick look at the four red welts which had formed and then told him to pull up his pants and resume his usual station behind her desk.
She went back to work - she'd talk to Eric about Jimmy's role in the fundraiser tonight.
Greg's discomfort when he was sitting on his bed that night didn't escape James. Greg had been distracted and restless all through his lesson tonight.
To James relief after that one night when he'd been gagged and had to kneel by the front door for the whole evening their usual pattern had been resumed. His master spent so much time in Doctor Cuddy's house now that James wondered if he had thought about moving in, or at least sleeping over sometimes. Sometimes he made little fantasies for himself about that happening. He'd share this room with Greg - he didn't dare hope for a bigger one - and they'd help each other with the household duties. He'd be able to get a lot more studying done and he could help Greg with any heavy work. They'd be together every night, all night, and Greg could teach him so much. The more he learned the more he wanted to learn, about medicine, and about the world beyond his slavery.
He'd thought that Greg quite enjoyed his company too; although he often grumbled and complained about it he seemed to relax a bit when he was alone with James, showing a warmer side to his nature than he did at the hospital.
Tonight, though, it seemed that he didn't want James there at all.
"Is something wrong, Greg?" He asked, worried by his friend's distraction. "We don't have to do this tonight if you aren't feeling well."
"Giving up already? You'll never become a doctor like that, Jimmy," Greg snapped at him.
"I'll never be a doctor anyway," James pointed out. "I'm a slave."
"I know you're a fucking slave. You make it pretty damned obvious."
"The collar does tend to give it away," James fingered his collar, it was lightweight but secure. Foreman's name, address and phone number were in fine print on the outside, just as Cuddy's were on Greg's. The collars were more symbolic than functional - all slaves were micro-chipped for easy retrieval if they decided to run away - but the penalty for a slave removing their collar for any reason was at least fifty strokes of the whip and a mandatory retraining session. Nor was a slave ever allowed to cover up their collar, lest they be mistaken for a free person.
"It's not just the collar; it's the way you kiss everyone's ass."
Yes, Greg was definitely in a mood tonight - he usually only got like this when he had a case he couldn't solve. James had witnessed him snarling at Chase more than once, probably the only person in the hospital who would tolerate it - besides James.
He shut the book he was studying. Leaving wasn't an option, unless he wanted to aggressively stalk into the tiny bathroom, but he could see he wasn't going to get any work done tonight.
"Is it your leg? Is the pain bad tonight? Would you like me to massage it?" He started to reach for Greg's leg but Greg jerked it away with a hiss.
"I'm always in pain, but it's not my leg you'd have to massage."
James studied him and then suddenly realised why he was shifting around restlessly.
"Doctor Cuddy paddled you?"
"Oh no - she used a cane, it was all sorts of kinky fun, you should have been there."
"Why were you being punished?" James asked - refraining from saying that he wished he could have been there, in Greg's place, taking the caning for him - Greg would think that was stupid.
Greg looked away, not answering and James sighed. He guessed it didn't matter why Greg was caned anyway. Physical punishment was a part of all slave's lives, however well trained and compliant they might be - and Greg was neither of those things.
"Pull down your pants, let me have a look," he said, getting up off the bed.
Greg stared at him.
"I want to make sure that there's no infection - call it on the job training," James continued. "Practical, hands on experience."
There was really no medical necessity for him to stare at Greg's ass, they both knew that, but he wanted to do it anyway - he wanted Greg to know that someone cared what the hell happened to him. He kept staring steadily at Greg and finally Greg pushed his pants down and rolled over on the bed.
There were four cane marks across Greg's ass, each one straight and firm. They were red and angry but not inflamed.
"You can just stare at them or you can put some of this on them," Greg said, handing over a tube of ointment he'd retrieved from somewhere. James had become used to Greg having a variety of things hidden away so he accepted the analgesic cream without comment.
He squeezed out a little onto his fingers and then began smoothing it onto the welts. Greg hissed once and then went silent as James went to work.
"Maximus Gluteus," James murmured as he applied the cream, trying to break the odd tension that had come up between them, "Gluteus Medius, Gluteal cleft."
"Congratulations, you pass Butt Anatomy 101," Greg said, but James could hear a smile in his voice.
"Did she let you have your Vicodin at least?" James asked as he finished up.
Greg snorted, "Cuddy doesn't believe in painkillers after a punishment. If I'm lucky I'll get one before I got to bed."
If he didn't he'd be awake all night, James knew. "Bitch," he said forcefully. Greg stared at him in surprise.
"Now James, what would Master Foreman do if he could hear his sweet slave calling his fuck buddy that?”
"I don't care," James said, pleased that he seemed to have improved Greg's mood at least, Greg always liked it when he showed some defiance against free people, even if it was in the relative safety of this room.
"Are you finished, or are you going to play with my ass all night?" Greg asked and James realised he'd been sitting there with his hand still on Greg’s butt. He jerked his hand away and muttered a 'sorry'.
Greg pulled his pants back up and sat up. He was about to say something when the signal light went off.
"Foreman was quick tonight, hope he didn't fire too soon and leave Mistress Cuddy hanging - she's like a bear with a sore head when she doesn't get any." Greg was quick on James' heels as they left the room and James felt a warm rush of pleasure when he realised that Greg was hurrying for his sake - so that he wouldn't get in trouble with Foreman.
Foreman wasn't pleased when Cuddy asked him about lending Jimmy to the hospital for the fund raiser. He wasn't naive; he'd been to other functions where there were slaves available to be hired for the night, or for a session. He realised that Jimmy was an attractive slave, that was one of the reasons he’d picked him out himself. The mind-wiping had produced an air of innocence to the slave which was missing in an older, more cynical slave, like Greg.
It wasn't that Foreman was even using Jimmy much himself at the moment. Now that he was with Lisa he was only using the slave for a quick warm up in the morning, he hadn't fucked him since shortly after meeting Lisa, and he wouldn't while they were together. He didn't think it was right, although he knew many couples didn't object to their partners using slaves when necessary.
No, he just didn't like to lend his belongings, he never had. He'd worked too hard to earn enough money to buy the best slave he could afford and he didn't see why he should let other people take advantage of that - even if it was to raise money for the hospital. Besides, one of them might damage Jimmy and put him out of action, and Jimmy had proven himself to be very useful, both around the apartment and at the office. He was coming along nicely under Foreman's tutelage, and he wouldn't want to have to start over with a new slave.
Lisa had used her many powers of persuasion on him and he'd ended up agreeing to add Jimmy to the roster. It had somewhat soured the mood of the evening though so he'd called it a night early, picked up Jimmy and left.
Once in the apartment he signalled for Jimmy to fetch him a snack and a drink and turned on the television, making himself comfortable. Jimmy returned quickly with the requested items and then knelt by his chair, waiting for further instructions. Foreman left him there for a while, the slave would probably enjoy ten minutes of watching television, even if was a mindless medical drama, before he went back to work and he'd been good enough lately to earn a little treat. On an impulse he took a morsel of food from his plate and offered it to him. Jimmy looked surprised, Foreman wasn't in the habit of hand feeding him, but took it readily enough. He really was a good slave; Vogler had better take good care of him.
"Where are you going, Greg? We're supposed to be going to the laundry." James pointed out as he followed Greg through the hospital corridors.
"Shortcut," Greg declared breezily as he dodged past an orderly wheeling a bed. It always amazed James how quickly Greg could move when he wanted to.
He didn't see any way that cutting through radiology on the third floor could possibly be a shortcut to the laundry, which was in the basement, but after a brief moment of indecision he shrugged and followed Greg - it wasn't like he wanted to go to the laundry after all, and Greg was good at making up reasons for their presence if they were questioned.
He was hurrying to catch up with Greg when he dodged around a wheelchair in the corridor and ran into a doctor hurrying in the other direction. He fell heavily to the ground.
"Doctor Wilson? James? Is that you? What are you..." he heard someone say and looked up to see the doctor looking down at him, one hand outstretched to help him up. He saw the other man's eyes flick to his collar and realisation come over him, the hand was hastily withdrawn and James struggled to his knees.
"My mistake - I thought you were someone... “the doctor said, his face reddening and then he quickly turned and went, without another word. A few people had stopped and were staring and then suddenly Greg was there.
"Get up," he said quietly.
James struggled to his feet, his wrist hurting where he'd put his hands out to break his fall.
"Come on, quickly, let's go." Greg said and started back the way they'd come - his mission on the third floor apparently abandoned.
"He called me Wilson, Doctor Wilson," James said. "He knew me, from before. I need to talk to him. He can tell me..."
Greg looked at him intently. "Forget about it."
"But..."
"You need to forget it, and hope he does."
"But he might know what I did, and who I am."
"You're not supposed to know! That's the whole point of the mind-wipe. You start figuring out who you were before, and what you did, and they'll ship you back to a Facility to have what's left of your brain destroyed. And when they've done that they'll send you on to some other Master. Foreman will get your sales value back, and buy himself another pretty slave."
If he got taken away from here he'd never see Greg again. James fell quiet, his mind reeling. He so wanted to know, but he didn't want to leave here.
The elevator arrived at its destination and they walked down the corridor towards the laundry where they were to spend their afternoon.
"Somebody screwed up. If you used to be a doctor you shouldn't have been sold to another one - too much chance of you colliding with your old life, and now you've managed to do it - literally. You have to hope that guy doesn't blab to anyone. Or that he was wrong and you just look a bit like this James Wilson guy." James could tell Greg didn't believe that.
They were at the laundry door so they fell silent as they reported in for work. James felt bruised from his fall, and stunned from what had happened.
Wilson, that guy had called him Wilson. James Wilson. And most importantly he'd called him a doctor. James had hated hospitals since the first time he'd entered one with Doctor Foreman, only a few months before, but he loved learning about medicine. Now he understood why some things had felt familiar, the little girl having chemotherapy, the pictures in the textbooks. He wondered what sort of doctor he had been.
The free person in charge of the laundry handed them both massive bags of washed linen which James dragged onto the trolley. They wheeled it down to a small, windowless room where they would take out the sheets, press them and fold them into neat rectangles. Good mindless work for slaves who couldn't handle anything complicated, James thought bitterly. At least they were alone here.
"We could tell Doctor Cuddy that I used to be a doctor, I could learn again, I could help you." James said.
"Didn't you listen to what I said? And why would Cuddy bother to have you retrained? How long would that take? You tell her you'll be getting a whipping for being insolent and then a trip back to the Facility." Greg seemed almost desperate as he extracted a pile of sheets from the bag and began pressing them. "Keep your mouth shut about it. I'll try and find out whether that doctor blabs to anyone, you stay out of his way."
James still felt stubborn about it, if Greg could have some value to the hospital for his medical skills why couldn't he?
"Look, I wish you could help me. I wish I could have one of those fancy offices and you could have the one next to me. I wish we could work on cases together. I wish we didn't have these damned," Greg tugged at his collar, "things around our neck. But it's not happening, not in our lifetime. You need to accept that. I know how things work."
"I still want to keep studying medicine," James said at last. He took the pressed sheets from Greg's hands and began to fold them. "I want you to keep teaching me."
Greg ran a hand through his short hair and then finally nodded. "Yeah. We can keep doing that. Just... don't ever let anyone know, okay?"
"I won't." James folded another sheet. "I'm glad Doctor Foreman bought me." He looked at Greg, making sure Greg understood what he was saying.
Greg swallowed hard and then nodded. "Yeah, me too."
James give him that little smile that he did, the one that made Greg want to do anything that he asked, and went back to folding the sheets. They worked in silence for a couple of minutes and then James muttered quietly, "But I still want to know who I was."
Greg shook his head in despair.