Morning sunlight weakly filtered into the room. Alboim sleepily turned in bed, snuggling closer to the soft, warm body next to him.

  “Master?” The soft, girlish voice woke him up completely. Alarmed, Alboim practically leaped out of the bed, only to crack his head on the canopy frame. From under the comforters peered a bleary-eyed face, an iron choker collar around her neck. The girl was young, maybe a year or two older than Susan, so around sixteen, he guessed. Sparse jet-black hair covered her face, which was shaped like a human’s but with a cat’s ears and nose. Short white whiskers sprouted from her cheeks. Her ears swiveled as she tracked the sound of his head hitting the beam, and the girl opened her eyes to reveal vertically slit golden irises.

  Despair threatened to swallow him, and he started with shaky breaths to meditate. Master Gudonov’s methods helped, a little, to keep his rising panic at bay. God, help me! He cried out from the depths of his heart, help me to endure this, and get back home.

  “Master, are you hurt? Did I startle you? I suppose I should not have gotten into bed without your permission. But it was so cold, Master! Too cold to sleep on the carpet, and I am your bed warmer, after all. How will you punish my presumption, Master? Please, don’t beat me too badly!”

  “You’re a cat-girl!” He exclaimed, then mentally kicked himself for the tautology.

  The cat girl kneeled there on the bed before him, her ears flat on her head. The ugly iron collar encircling her neck caught his attention, and Al noticed a twitching black tail before he tore his eyes from her. Is she a slave? But wait, why aren’t there slaves in Dad’s books? If this world and his really are the same, shouldn’t there be a billion slaves in them? What the hell am I going to do now?

  Alboim opened the bed curtains, letting in more light, and looked around. The walls and floor were gray stone. Under the window stood a carved wooden desk and chair, with just enough space to walk between it and the bed. On the other side, a matching wardrobe and a table.

  Opposite the bed was an open fireplace carved with the almost-Celtic knots he’d seen last night with a mass of hot coals glowing red that did nothing to warm the room.

  “For God’s sake, cover yourself!” He ordered, then softened his tone. There was no need to frighten the girl any further. “I don’t blame you for wanting to be warm. But, why are you calling me Master? Also, what is your name?”

  “Master, I am your slave, so of course I should call you ‘Master’.” the cat-girl replied. “Mistress Elspith gave me to you last night, as well as Bennit. I am to be your bed warmer, and you may call me however you wish.” She timidly replied.

  “I will speak to my aunt about this. Slavery is immoral; as a great man once said, ‘If slavery is not wrong, then nothing is wrong.’. In my world it was wiped out centuries ago, but, obviously, not here.” Alboim reassured the girl.

  The crying gradually slowed, then stopped, and the cat girl looked up at him with damp, reddened eyes. “Thank you, Master! I promise I will be a good girl and do whatever you ask!”

  His and her definitions of ‘good’, Alboim thought wryly to himself, might be a little different. “Don’t sell yourself short. You deserve the chance to live how you want, and I will do my best to treat you with the dignity and consideration all living beings deserve.” How terrible this world must be, Alboim kept to himself, that a young girl thinks it's OK to sleep with a strange man just because someone ordered it? Thank God he only had to endure it for six months, if what Aunt Elspith said was correct.

  “Do you have real clothes?” he asked. “Please put them on, and we’ll talk. How do I summon this Bennit?” He vaguely remembered a young man from the night before, and that he had worn a collar as well. “Is he the person who was here last night? I vaguely remember a guy and Aunt Elspith saying he was mine.”

  “Pull the cord, Master,” she indicated a golden cord next to the bed, “and Bennit will come in a few minutes. He is to be your butler.” She seemed eager to answer him. “My day clothes are not here as, I was not given time to fetch them before they summoned me to attend you.” Master Alboim pulled the cord, and the two waited in awkward silence for Bennit to appear.

  ~*** *** ***~

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Suz—no! The cat-girl thought; she had a new master, and he would give her a new name. For now, she was Nameless. Nameless studied her master.

  Last night had been so unexpected. Bennit had come, barging into the tiny cubbyhole she shared with her mother and sisters. Hastily he explained the situation and declared that he’d chosen her, of all people, to be the new master’s bed warmer. Mother had been horrified, but Nameless trusted Bennit. She remembered following him around as children too young for the collar, and how, even after he’d been picked as a butler’s assistant, he would share sweets, or find time to be around her between their duties. He’d even kissed her once, on her thirteenth birthday. They were comfortable together, but knew they would be torn apart one day soon.

  “I’ve been given to the Young Lord, and if we play this right, we will be together. All we need is a little luck, and hope that he is as kind as our mistress.” He had said last night. “Can you do it? Can you stomach another man?”

  “Eventually I will have to, Ben. At least this gives us a chance. If the Mistress’s second cousin inherits...”

  Her new master’s evident surprise at finding her in bed threatened to violate her most important directive, and fear gripped her. Despite her pep talk, fear settled into her bones. Bennit’s hare-brained scheme was failing.

  Master was taller than any man she had ever seen, well over six and a half feet, though still young. Wheat-gold hair just brushing his shoulders framed a long, square-jawed face. That face was now covered with sparse stubble a shade darker than his hair. Glacier blue eyes, strong and piercing, sat above a nose just a little too large to be called handsome. His skin was smooth, without blemish or mark of disease, and when he smiled, his teeth were impossibly straight and white. Through his thin shirt, his well-muscled chest strained against the cloth.

  “So,” Master broke the silence, “you never told me how old you are, what your name is, or why you are here, practically naked in my bed. I’m not some kind of pervert.”

  Nameless’s face fell. Most men would be excited to find a beautiful young woman in their bed. Would she be punished because she was not his type? Did he prefer human girls or older women? Bunny girls? She would be punished severely if she displeased her new master. She screwed up her courage, and remembered what Bennit had told her the night before. They could be together, if all went well.

  “I will turn seventeen on the day before the Winter Solstice. If it pleases you, master, whenever a construct slave is bought or gifted, the new master gives them a new name. I do not have a name until you give me one.” She nearly wilted at the look of anger in his eyes, but realized it was not directed toward her. She continued, “I am your bedwarmer, Master. My job is to keep you warm and—entertained.” For the first time in a long time, she was glad for the fur obscuring her flushing face. Her voice barely faltered. “at night. It is your right to treat me as you wish.”

  Alboim pinched the bridge of his nose, willing his voice to remain calm. Yelling would only scare the poor girl even worse than she was now. “You are a sex slave, then? That is disgusting. Sixteen is too young to be sent to sleep with a strange man. Hell, so is any age. The hell is wrong with your society? Well,” Master promised, “I will not take advantage of you.”

  The man before her got down on his knees to be on her level, and lifted her chin until he could gaze directly into her eyes. “You deserve better than this. Even if no one else will say it, you are your own person.”

  “I will be seventeen in less than three months, so I am old enough to be a bedwarmer.” she protested. True, most masters would have waited longer, but physically, at least, Nameless was mature enough to handle the deed.

  “Not as far as I am concerned.” Master sighed. “I’m not mature enough, and I’m a year older than you. Besides, sex should be saved for marriage. What was your old name, then? I cannot call you girl or kitty all the time.”

  Nameless hesitated. Was she even allowed to tell Master her old name? She had never been sold before. House Brantle, since even before Mistress Elspith became the head five years ago, rarely sold or bought slaves, relying on natural breeding to maintain their population. But could she disobey him either? No, she decided. He was her new master, and she could deny him nothing that he wanted. “My mother named me Suzsise.” she finally replied.

  Master smiled, flashing those impossibly white teeth. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, Suzsise, was it? I will not change your name. You are terrified of being returned, so I won’t, and you’re too young to fend for yourself, so I cannot free you. So, we’re stuck with each other, at least until I can get us out of this mess.”

  “Oh, Master.” Suzsise shook her head sadly. “I am not a real person. I am just a Construct, so I cannot be freed.” Even the act of removing the slave collar is fatal for us Constructeds. How strange this new master is, though, to care about a single slave. Suzsise held her tongue in confusion. But, a tiny voice asked, how can you be anything other than a slave. You are just a construct. Designed as a plaything for their masters.

  But, she told her doubts, if my Master says it, how can I possibly act against his wishes? The voice was silent against that argument. Suzsise thought hard on the matter. I will try to act more like the butlers do, or the other high ranking human slaves. The girl flicked an ear in satisfaction. She knew how to behave; she’d seen Dobsen, and Bennit along with serving other visiting butlers all her life. She would copy them.

  A soft knock at the door interrupted their conversation, and Bennit entered.