2018-10-14 - spike - The New Shop 82 - Christmas with Q

Author: spike
Title: The New Shop 82 - Christmas with Q.
Date: 14 October 2018

Chapter 82
It didn’t take long to fall into the routine.

Scan, swim, explore, dinner with Q. We discussed various topics of course and… I don’t know if it was the kiss, his personality, the place or everything combined, but I genuinely began to feel… I think I fell in love with him that week and what’s more, I somehow knew, that would never change.

I was a slave and I loved my master. Oh god, that, as M might’ve put it, was a turn up for the books wasn’t it?

It was Saturday when I went to him that I noticed the difference. In the heat of the day, all that’d happened, even though I’d been told, it didn’t hit home until I saw tinsel decorating the statues, a huge tree in one corner and a full Christmas dinner awaiting me. This time, I wasn’t alone. Seated at the table were nine human slaves, the doctor and Bartholomew among them.

All were naked apart from their chastity. A couple of them looked at me, bare down there, and I could see a little envy in their eyes.

Q sat at the head of the table and gestured to me to sit to his right. On the left closest to him and opposite me, the doctor.

“Adam, I’d like you to meet my human slaves. You know my doctor so there’s no need to introduce him again. Beside you is Christopher. He’s my head chef.”

He pointed at the rest, naming them and their function as he went on.

“Sebastian, my head house boy. He’s responsible for keeping my quarters clean and tidy, making my bed and anything else I require of him. Benjamin is maintenance. Any repairs that need to be made, he organises them. Frederick, my sommelier. Bartholomew, I believe you’ve met.” he grinned. “He, Nicholas and Lawrence are responsible for keeping the rest of the complex clean. Alexander at the end there is my groundsman. He keeps the gardens in good shape and organises the planting in freshly restored areas and last, but by no means least, Jonathan, my head architect and construction engineer. If you asked him, he’d say he built this place, just as Sir Christopher Wren is reputed to have built St Paul’s Cathedral… I think we all know the truth of the matter, don’t we?”

I looked down the table. Jonathan didn’t look happy. “Er… Sir, what do you mean? I did build it.”

“I’m sure by now you’ve all noted the absence of Dominic.” Everyone apart from Bart looked around in confusion and nodded.

“All of you from now on. Treat the blanks with the respect they deserve. They do all the work, you just do the design and organisation! Yes, that includes you, Christopher. How many blanks are assigned to you?”

“Six, sir.”

“You tell them what to do, they do it, you barely lift a finger, correct?”

“But, I know my food, sir. I know they can’t cook. They can’t even taste. So what if they do all the preparation, I determine what’s required to make it as delicious as possible!”

“I know that, I’m just making a point. It seems some of you have begun to think of yourselves as better than them again and Adam highlighted that problem. I know you see yourselves as more qualified than most but that does not give you the right to look down on them!”

“But”

Q held up his hand. “Dominic isn’t here because he is a blank. He showed disrespect to Adam. As I said, Adam pointed out that Dominic seemed to have an air of over importance. You’re slaves. All of you are slaves. Remember that! The blanks do all the hard work. They restore this island, they’re the ones to reap the rewards in that endeavour but you treat them like dog shit scraped off your shoes and don’t you dare try to deny that.”

One in the middle, I looked closer… Frederick. He put his hand up.

“Yes?”

“But you did say we outrank the suited slaves. That they’re nothing but objects, sir.”

“Well, I’ve had time to reassess the situation. In the early days that may be how I saw them. How many have I elevated since Four opened my eyes?”

“Hell of a lot, sir.”

Again I glanced down the table. I wasn’t sure who’d said that.

“Why did they achieve a promotion?”

Ah, Lawrence. “Because they impressed you, sir.”

“They’re the ones restoring the island. Now blank, formerly known as Dominic is one of them.”

I raised my hand. “Sir. Might I use an… analogy?”

“Yes, Adam. Go on.”

“If the human slaves around this table were officers in the army and the blanks, silvers and golds were enlisted men, would the lieutenant get away with abusing his privates?”

A few of them laughed and it was only when Christopher grinned at me… “It depends, sir. On whether his commanding officer was also into CBT.”

I admit it. I chuckled too. “I do stand by the point though. Would he get away with bullying and abusing the men under his command to such an extent that they received constant punishment for things he did?”

A few of them looked at the table and shook their heads. Bartholomew included.

“The least you could do is ask. Try being a blank.” I grinned at Christopher and the sommelier. “Maybe not you two though. Doubt you’d handle it. Your entire lives revolve around taste and smell.”

At that, all of them looked at me in horror. All of them except the doctor.

He turned to our master with a smile. “I would like to volunteer, sir. Preferably not permanently but that’s entirely up to you, sir.”

Q glanced at me. “I can see Adam’s having a positive influence already. To a suit, or to be a blank?”

“Ah what the hell, sir. Go the whole hog. Blank. Why not, sir?”

“In your case, you will be in a temporary one, but I will determine the duration. I’ll also keep a note of your ID so you can be called upon if there’s a medical emergency.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“We’ll do it once Eleven’s back on his feet and in his suit. He will join you as a blank for one month by the way. By his request. He’ll remain a blank a lot longer but by then he’ll be back where he belongs, in the store.”

I glanced at the assembled slaves with amusement. All of them stared at the doctor, then me, not knowing where to look as if both of us were utterly insane.

I looked back at them. “What? If you’ve never tried a suit how do you know you’ll hate it? I bet even Dominic’s beginning to like it and he’s only been in it less than a week.”

All of them looked at the table this time.

I sighed. “There’s an old saying. Never criticize a man until you've walked a mile in his moccasins. The same should go for the blanks. I like being a blank. I began life as one and my master granted me a suit identical to six’s. It can be blanked at the push of a button and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

A few gulped.

I looked at the ceiling in exasperation. “How else would you get to know the men? What better way? You all seem to think that a blank’s just an object there’s nothing inside but hot air. There’s still, as has been said a few times before, a man in that suit and whether he chose it or not, it’s his prison for life! A prison I’ve already chosen to trap myself in again.”

What happened next surprised me. Bartholomew put his hand up.

Q stared at him. “You? Now this is a surprise. What on earth? You’re the last slave I would’ve expected to volunteer.”

“After the first blank started my tire swinging, sir, more came. A lot more. It didn’t stop swinging for another three hours, sir but a few of them spoke to me. Told me what happened after I’d interfered with their work, sir. They also told me they don’t envy us one bit, they’ve got it so much better. They think we bullied them because we were jealous but too cowardly to take on the suit, sir. Well, a lot of them do. I know I was a bit of a cunt to them, sir.”

“A bit? I’ve had multiple reports from number Six about you, remember.”

“OK, sir. A complete and utter cunt then, sir.”

“So now you want to prove yourself?”

He sighed. Part sigh, part sob. “Yes, sir.”

“Very well. I warn you now though, all of you… You can’t all be blanks at the same time, I need men to run my household. One week, Bartholomew. You have work to do. And no, a request for longer will be denied. I may grant a week here and there though.”

He sighed with relief, probably at such a short sentence. “Thank you, sir.”

I glanced down the table. “You’ve never allowed them time to speak to you before have you? Clearly you know how, but you never bothered? They only got your attention this time because you had no choice, tied up like that?”

He nodded.

“You had blanks under your command and”

“All I wanted to see was the yes, sir.” He sighed. “And in the early days, before those blanks sent after Rex fucked up so royally, none of them could speak anyway.”

“None of them? Even Number One?”

Q nodded. “They were damned good at mime though. They could get a message across if it was important.”

“So they were all in a similar situation to Rocky? Oh god, that, I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed.”

“You would’ve adjusted. It may have taken a little more time, but you would have.” Q smirked. “They say in isolated communities, even a community of two where language doesn’t exist, they invent something between them. The mimes they came up with were bloody elaborate in the end when talking amongst themselves. Almost a language in itself. I often see some of the older ones still using it when they don’t want any eavesdroppers.”

“Yes, sir.” I said, eyeing the turkey. “I’ve heard of things like that. Abusive parents locking their kids in a basement and never talking to them, so when child services finally rescue them…”

“Yes. This has taken a rather morbid turn though. Important conversation, ended. Treat the men restoring this island with the respect they deserve and try being one of them for a while. Now, tuck in, chaps. It’s Christmas!” Q picked up a long fork and carving knife. “And as it’s Christmas, I’ll carve.”

I looked more closely at the spread. Most of it I was familiar with but there seemed to be a few things lacking and a few I didn’t recognise. No pumpkin pie? No apple pie either but there did seem to be a large stack of pies in the middle of the table. A large dark brown mound sat on a plate in the middle too with a sprig of holly sticking out of the top.

As Q carved and all handed out their plates for their slices of turkey, I took their lead once that meat was on the plate, not wanting to do anything out of turn.

Roast potatoes rather than mash. A large, round, pastry something that they all filled with gravy. Sprouts, peas, carrots, buttered parsnips. And that was just the main dinner.

I looked at the slave next to me and pointed at my plate.

“What?”

“Err… That.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen a Yorkshire pud before. God you yanks. I suppose you’ve never had them either?” He pointed at the pies and the… thing in the middle.

“Depends what they are.”

“Mince pies and Christmas pudding of course. What do you have?”

“Pumpkin or apple pie normally.”

“God, you’re in for a treat.”

I picked up the heavily decorated paper and cardboard tube… thing and held that up. “And this?”

Q glanced at Christopher. “If they’d remained a part of the British Empire until Victoria’s time they may have acquired a few more of our traditions. And considering the puritans tried to ban Christmas before they left to pursue their rights to religious persecution in peace, it’s hardly surprising some of our traditions didn’t get taken with them. It’s a Christmas Cracker, Adam. Something that didn’t even get invented until the nineteenth century.”

I nodded and grinned at Christopher. “No offence taken. Bet you’d look at our spread in a similar way. At least we both celebrate it though. Unless you’re Jewish. Then it’s a whole week, if I remember correctly.”

The food… Just what you’d expect from Christmas dinner. I did stab my fork into a sausage covered in bacon and held it up. “And this?”

Chris grinned. “Pigs in blankets.”

I looked at it… “Err…”

“Yes, yes, I know. I wouldn’t be much of a chef if I didn’t. No pastry in British pigs in blankets. I suppose the closest equivalent to US ones is sausage rolls. My god those are better though.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you’ll find out. Tomorrow.”

It was a good meal, god it was. And of course, it wasn’t over with the turkey. The moment everyone had finished Q plucked something from his pocket and pointed it at one of the statues.

“Blank, clear the plates, take them down to the kitchen and wash them.”

It was a marble one this time. It seemed a little unsteady on its feet at first as it hopped down off its pedestal and gathered them up.

He pointed at another. “Blank, fetch the bowls.” and a Bronze one hopped down and gathered a stack of them from the other table. That one seemed a little wobbly on its feet too.

“If you’d care to do the honours, Christopher?”

“Yes, sir.” he stood, walked to where that huge brown mound was, plucked off the holly, poured a few glugs of… Brandy? Looked like it anyway. Then struck a match and lit it. There was a whump as it burst into bright blue flame.

He waited for the flames to subside before taking a large scoop and filling a bowl.

When it got to mine… God it was rich. A fruit pudding. Heavily spiced and laced with brandy. The brandy that’d burnt off also added to it. It was delicious but at the same time very stodgy. I chuckled to myself. British food was often described like that.

On the third bite, something hard. If the pudding hadn’t been soft I might’ve broken a tooth on it. I explored it with my tongue. Curved. Metal by the feel of it. I spat it into my hand and examined it.

It was a coin, a large one. I don’t think I’d seen one that size that wasn’t commemorative. There was a woman seated on something on one side with One and Penny around the edge on either side of her and beneath, a year. 1946.

I turned it and tried to read the inscription. A lot seemed to be in abbreviated Latin but… Georgivs VI? The face on it was in profile, young and not that bad looking.

Q smiled. “You found the coin.”

“Sir? You mean this thing was put in there on purpose? I could’ve broken a tooth on that or worse, choked!”

“I like to stick to all the traditions. A penny in a Christmas pudding is seen as good luck to the person who finds it. In the case of any of these, it would’ve meant a night in my bed. I will respect your sexuality, Adam, don’t worry. For you, it’ll take a while longer to receive, but… Yes… The same day M endured.”

“That day of pleasure?”

“Yes.”

“He… He had it?”

“Just over a week ago, yes.”

I sighed. “Damn, I wanted to see that. How did he handle it, sir?”

“Oh god, he was a mess for a couple of days. Really needed a good sleep after that, but he’s fine.”

“Thank you, sir. I imagine I’ll only be capable of repeating “oh my god!” for a few hours after that.”

“Quite. You earned it, even more than M. Now… time for some silliness.” He picked up his cracker and handed it to me. I reached out to take the whole thing.

“No, just take one end, then pull. The person with the longer part wins the contents.”

“I didn’t think slaves could own personal possessions, sir?”

“Oh, they can’t. There’s rarely anything of value in a cracker. These are different. One does contain something of real value but it’s not a possession.”

I gave the cracker a tug, a loud crack issued when the parts separated and Q took the tube half. He pulled out the contents. A very tacky yellow paper crown, a slip of paper, a plastic coil of rope and a plastic key.

“I… what’s the point of that if the things inside are so… So… crap, sir?”

“It’s just a little fun.”

“With the emphasis on little?”

“Yes, but these are special. I did say that. Now for my joke? Oh god, not that one. One thing you can guarantee about the jokes in Christmas crackers… They always make the whole table groan. What do you get if you cross a kangaroo with a sheep?”

He didn’t need to read the punchline for the whole table to do just as he predicted. He nodded at mine.

I picked it up, gripped the end and handed it to him. “No, to the right. Then everyone gets a pull.”

“Sorry, sir. Never spent Christmas in the UK, certainly not living with a family, sir.”

“The crappy plastic toys represent something this year. Go on.”

I did. Christopher gripped it, gave a pull, there was a loud bang and again, I was left with just a scrap of paper.

Christopher emptied his out. Inside, a toy razor, a scrap of paper and a light blue paper crown. He smiled. “I know I’ve won a forfeit, sir… Think I can guess what it is.”

“Yes, tomorrow, you shave. Completely. You’ll be released from your chastity so you can complete the job.”

“Yes, sir.”

Q smirked. “I believe something else may be in that tube.”

Chris shook it, it rattled, He tipped it upside down again and a small plastic key fell onto the table.

“A key, sir?”

“Yes, you’ll be released from your chastity on Monday from sunrise until sunset and at noon, I will suck you off. You know what that blue means in the hanky code. All the crowns represent those colours.”

“Oh god, thank you, sir!”

“Luck of the draw. I know what went into them but I don’t know who got what. Now read your joke.”

“What’s the ideal address for a copper?”

I shrugged. “I… what?”

He unfolded the paper and read it. “999 Letsbe avenue. Oh, for god’s sake.”

“I don’t get it.”

“999? Let’s be having you? Oh” he screwed up the paper and tossed it onto the table.

He won the next one too. This time, a dark blue crown, a toy and a key. “Oh god, does this mean…”

“It does. I suck you off, then you fuck me. We’re both in for some fun on Monday. What’s the toy?”

“Handcuffs, sir.”

“Could get interesting. You’ll be handcuffed when you do it.”

The cracker pull continued but I pointed at Q’s. “What about those, sir? Are you immune?”

“Oh no. That cracker hasn’t been pulled yet. Watch.”

The next one, pulled by Sebastian… In his, another yellow hat and a pair of nipple clamps. He shook the tube, tipped it but only the corny joke fell out.

“Sir, where’s the key?”

“The key represents freedom from chastity, Sebastian. If you didn’t win a key, you don’t get out. It also means you receive, not give. Monday for you, I think you’ll like it. All slaves out of their chastity will use you as their urinal, except one. And you’ll be nipple clamped while you’re secured in the one in the dungeon. Sunrise until sunset.”

“Yes, sir. Why except one?”

Q chuckled. “We still haven’t got to that cracker yet.”

The jokes didn’t get any better than the first two as the round continued.

“Benjamin pulled but lost to Jonathan who then also won against Alexander. For him, a red crown, a ball weight and a key from the first and a black crown, plastic dildo but no key from the second.”

“What does it mean if I get one key rather than two, sir?”

“Freedom from chastity of course. But for the second one, you will be the one tortured. By me. On Tuesday. I think I’m going to be a little busy on Monday.”

“And the red one means…” he gulped. “It means I get to fist you, sir?”

“Yes.”

Alexander also lost against Lawrence. What he received… A toy light switch. In that cracker, there was no hat.”

“I… don’t understand, sir. Where’s the hat?”

“The switch is the important one in this case. You get my hat and my key.”

“You mean…. Whatever hat you got, we’d do it to you, sir?”

“Not all of you, obviously. I did say one of you would not be using the urinal in the dungeon. I’ll drink direct from the tap. Any time you feel the need. And as I also had the toy rope in mine, I’ll be tightly bound throughout. Again, as I’m likely to be a little busy on Monday and Tuesday, you get me on Wednesday. You bind me in any way you see fit that the doctor deems safe for long term bondage and I drink whenever you offer.”

Then it was Nicholas’s turn and he won too. His crown was gold. More than that, gold and painted in such a way it looked like it was gem encrusted.

There was only one more thing in that cracker. No forfeits, not even a joke. What was in there was a key. This one looked real.

He held it up, confused.

Q chuckled, stood and jogged over to his throne. He sat, the keyboard slid into place and he turned the screen when he’d finished tapping. On the screen, a five minute countdown.

“Sir?”

Q smiled and began to strip. “That key will unlock any chastity and I suggest you use it first of all on yourself.”

“Sir?”

“When I’ve stripped, you dress in them. And when that countdown reaches zero…”

“Please, sir. What does it mean?”

“Oh god, you’re going to have a lot of fun. Boxing day. One tradition is that the master and servant switch. That’s what you’re going to do. Switch. With me. In…” he looked at his countdown. “Four minutes and thirty seconds.”

“Oh god, really?”

“There are some restrictions. No-one can be forced into a suit, the suits are locked down until I’ve resumed my status. You are absolutely denied access to research and development and IT. Other than that, until sunset tomorrow, I am your slave. You are the master of this island and every slave on it. Don’t destroy it.”

Q finished off by removing his underwear and looked at Nicholas. “Well go on then. You’ve still got to fit that chastity on me.”

“Fit it on you, sir?”

“I’m a slave. Of course! Or I will be in just under four minutes. Now let’s get the last of these crackers pulled before we have to switch seats too.”

The doctor chuckled. “One extra restriction, sir.”

“Yes?”

“No bondage or anything S&M related for Adam, he’s not ready for it yet.”

“Very well. That too. Don’t abuse your power too much Nicholas. Now, I believe you have a cracker to pull with Bartholomew?”

Nick fitted the key, clicked it and the chastity snapped open. He caught it before it could hit the floor and handed it to Q.

“Pull the cracker, then you can fit it on me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bartholomew won that one. His hat was red too but he didn’t get a key. His forfeit. A miniature fuck bench.

He chuckled. “I think I know what this means, sir. Fistee?”

“Yep.”

“Bound to a fuck bench?”

“Got it in one. Available for use by anyone. And that includes the blanks. Fisting only, no fucking. There are two more hats. I think you can probably guess what they might be.”

Bart turned to the doctor with a grin and held his up, the doctor pulled, a loud crack and the doc came away with the prize. His hat… Blue. No key and another fuck bench toy.

He chuckled. “Thank you, sir. Oh god. The whole day tied down, nothing but a hole to be poked. That leaves one more.” He held it up and Q pulled it.

Q lost. The doctor unwrapped the gifts and this one, a white hat. A straight jacket. “So, one day being fucked, one day sucking, sir?”

“Yes. As you won both and the others won’t be out of their chastity forever, it might be better for you to combine the two. Straightjacket, fuckbench, spit roast.”

The doctor chuckled. “God, I’ve not even seen one of those since slug got it. Now I get to be it. Thank you, sir.”

“And…” Q watched the countdown. The moment it hit zero, he dropped to his knees before Nicholas and adopted the submissive pose. “Sir, I’m yours.”