Alex
They were given a brief breakfast, entirely at odds with the leisurely meals Alex had enjoyed for the past few weeks. F patrolled constantly, making it clear that talking was forbidden, so there was no chance for Alex to get to know his new companions.
After breakfast, they were ushered into a workroom full of laundry and kitchen equipment to find B waiting for them.
“Welcome to lesson one,” she said brightly. “Ironing.”
Alex looked around the room incredulously, but apparently nobody else found this as ridiculous as he did. His fellow indies looked enthralled, as if this was the number-one thing they had come here to learn.
“Ironing?” Alex queried. “As in… sheets and clothes?”
“That’s right. Everyone go to a work station,” B instructed, pointing at the five ironing boards arranged around the room.
“Ironing?” Alex raised an eyebrow at Two, who smiled at him cheerfully in return.
“Problem, One?” F asked menacingly.
“Not at all. Ironing. Fascinating.” Alex went to his ironing board and stood behind it, wondering what the hell was going on. Tyler had made it quite clear that his primary purpose as anIS was to be used for sex. All the workouts were to hone his body and increase his stamina, and all the tedious grooming sessions and clothes fittings were to make him look good for Tyler’s guests. Alex would have been far less surprised to have walked into a red-velvet dungeon filled with sex toys and a swing.
B launched into a detailed explanation of the finer points of ironing technique. Alex tuned it out and turned his attention instead to his new companions. They all looked completely ordinary. None of them had the looks he’d have expected if their purpose was to provide sexual services. It made far more sense that they were here precisely to learn how to perform mundane household tasks.
B brought out five baskets, all filled with crumpled white sheets. Alex suspected she’d been saving up his own sheets from the previous few weeks especially for this task. She gave each IS a basket to work through and patrolled the room, smiling pleasantly and giving advice.
Alex dutifully began pressing his pile of sheets. It was hot work, and he slid his finger under the white ID necklace around his neck; the plastic was far less comfortable than Tyler’s gold necklace. He fretted about the missing photos as he ironed. Who could have taken them and why? What precisely was going on here? Why had it all changed so suddenly, and most importantly, how could he get his photos back?
After several tedious hours, B collected their baskets and examined them. Alex’s was by far the least impressive. B held up a poorly folded, still partially crumpled sheet with a sad sigh.
“Did you use the steam setting, One?”
“Uh… I don’t remember. Was I supposed to?” Alex doubted if Tyler would care if he left Belvedere being able to iron or not; it was hardly why he’d spent millions buying him. Luckily, he was saved from further scrutiny of his poor handiwork by a loud klaxon signalling lunch.
Bowls of soup were waiting for them in the dining room, with D presiding over the food as usual. Alex took a bowl and sat down opposite Two, who was quietly blowing onto his soup to cool it. F patrolled the room, prohibiting conversation until gormless Five dropped his bowl on his way to the table, splattering his white clothes with bright red tomato stains. F flew into a rage. He stood over Five and yelled at him until the poor lad’s face was as red as his overalls. Then he grabbed Five by the arm and hauled him off to change.
“This wasn’t what I was expecting,” Alex murmured once F was out of the room.
“Me, neither,” Two replied. “There’s no need for all the yelling and hitting. It doesn’t help anyone to learn.”
“That wasn’t what I found unexpected,” Alex said. “Yelling and hitting were precisely what I thought would happen here. I was talking about the ironing – what the hell’s that all about?”
“This is the country’s most exclusive training course for personal servants. Learning how to take good care of your houder’s belongings is central to that.” Two gave Alex a curious look. “What were you expecting, if not this?”
Alex grunted. “Let’s just say my houder has very specific plans for me, and I’m sure they don’t include doing his laundry.”
“You think you’re too good for this?” Two’s brown eyes twinkled with amusement.
“God, no. I’d love it if this was what my houder wanted from me.” Alex watched as Two shook out his napkin and arranged it elegantly on his lap.
“I was watching you earlier, and I wondered…” Two gave Alex a thoughtful look. “Have you ever ironed anything before? In fact, have you ever done any kind of menial work at all in your entire life?”
“No,” Alex admitted. “At home, we always had an army of indies to do it for us, and at university…”
“Yes?”
“I had an indie looking after me there, too,” he said quietly.
“I thought so.” Two grinned at him.
“Do you know who I am?” Alex asked, and then he grimaced, because that hadn’t come out the way he’d intended.
