Meet my new boy. Klein said at breakfast. Opposite him sat a man in a velvet robe, reading the morning paper. He had wavy grey hair but the handsome, youthful face of a man too pampered to age, too privileged for worry lines. The man smiled down at Arnold in the hearty way that usually precedes a handshake, but he was sitting and Arnold was crouched on the floor, barely tall enough to reach the man's knee from his position.
Lovely. Bellowed the man. Very nice. His grin sat on Arnold expectantly and the smaller man blushed, feeling his nudity a thousand times more acutely than he ever had in the privacy of his owner's mansion.
In the corner of Arnold's vision something jerked. It was the other slave, the young man chained by his neck to the far table leg. He was staring urgently at Arnold and twisting his head to the side over and over, as if trying to shake water out of his ear.
Lovely. Bellowed the man. Very nice. His grin sat on Arnold expectantly and the smaller man blushed, feeling his nudity a thousand times more acutely than he ever had in the privacy of his owner's mansion.
In the corner of Arnold's vision something jerked. It was the other slave, the young man chained by his neck to the far table leg. He was staring urgently at Arnold and twisting his head to the side over and over, as if trying to shake water out of his ear.