Chapter 5

Cal scowled at his reflection in the full-length mirror as he tugged at the cuff sleeves of his uniform shirt, yet no matter how much he pulled they remained two inches above his wrist line. His slacks were the same, rising far too high above his shoes, making him look no better than a beggar on the street of Ceres. He stepped out of the slacks and examined the cuff, but he had already let the hem out twice and there was simply no more material left to make them any longer.

Dropping down on his bed, he clutched the slacks to his chest. What was he going to do? He’d hit a growth spurt the last few months, which was more of a surprise to him than anyone, and now none of his clothes fit him properly. When Lord Mink called for him to return, would he be angry at his new height? Would the Master sell him if he got too big? No that was foolish, Katze was taller than he and he’d kept Katze much longer. But then, he’d found other purposes for Katze as well.

Would he be repurposed? He didn’t want to be repurposed! What if he was no good at whatever Lord Mink choose for him to do and he somehow disappointed his Master? What if Lord Mink decided he wasn’t good at anything other than being Furniture and chose to have him recycled? Oh no! What should he do? Should he start studying to better himself? What sort of things should he study? What other things could he do?

A knock on his door startled him out of his internal worry and he quickly slipped into the slacks again. Regardless of how they looked he could not be seen unclothed. “Come in.”

Katze opened the door and stepped inside. “Hey, breakfast is rea...”

He took in the too short pants and jacket as well as the reddening face of the young boy who wore them. Being a former Furniture, and having gone through similar trauma when he’d started to grow into a man, Katze assessed the situation immediately.

“It’s gonna be okay, Cal.”

“I’m too big now,” Cal whispered and turned back to the mirror, horrified at his own reflection. “My Master will not want me like this. I can’t ever go back.”

Katze couldn’t speak for Iason, he honestly had no idea how the Blondie would react to a man-sized Cal, but he didn’t think it would be as bad as the young boy believed. After all, When Katze had grown too tall, he was simply redistributed into another area of work for Iason. He was no longer Iason’s Furniture, but Iason was still his Master.

He walked over, set his hands on the boy’s trembling shoulders, a little surprised that Cal’s head was now just below his chin. “Iason won’t just throw you away.” When Cal didn’t respond, he added. “Riki wouldn’t let that happen.” He turned Cal towards him, forced him to meet his gaze. “You know that, right? You know Riki likes you, he’d never let anything happen to you.”

“Do you truly believe that?”

“I do. And you like him. Weren’t you just as upset when you thought he was dead?”

Cal’s face turned the colour of ash. “I ... I don’t love him or anything!” he insisted quickly. “I ... He’s my charge, that’s all! Riki can’t really like me, Lord Mink would be so angry!”

Katze smirked, because he understood Iason possessiveness when it came to his pet. “Iason already knows that he doesn’t have to worry about what is between you and Riki, just like he knows as much as I care about Riki there is nothing between us either. Hell, we’re Furniture, what could we possibly do?”

That was certainly true, boys trained as Furniture were automatically castrated, and yet, that fact did not ease his anxiety.

“I will be too clumsy now. I ... I will be in the way of everything!”

How could he possibly maintain a Furniture’s creed of invisibility when he was so large? He would not be able to simply fade into the background until his Master called for him, as he had before. His bed ... his bed in the condo would be too small now, and when you add that new clothes would have to be purchased to outfit him, it would all be a horrible expense on Lord Mink.

He slumped down on his bed. He never used to be so emotional, he could always maintain his distance and balance, but lately it seems that he couldn’t maintain anything. It was as if his body and feelings had a mind of their own and he couldn’t suppress them. That too would be an added burden to his Master, a Furniture who worried, a Furniture who had moods. That couldn’t be tolerated.

He looked up at Katze and in all seriousness asked. “Will you be the one to arrange for my termination?”

“No one is being terminated here.”

Katze had expected Cal to ask this, because he knew that being a Furniture was all the kid knew, all he lived for, as it was for most of their kind. He also recognized the struggles that Cal was dealing with, because even a castrated boy had hormones and experienced a form of puberty. Even a mild change in his emotional and physical health would be difficult for someone who was technically supposed to be emotionally dead inside.

His own journey into adult hood was manageable only because he’d loved to read and study and so he understood what was happening to him. Plus, Iason had been surprisingly tolerant of his awkwardness at that age, and he was relatively sure the Blondie would be even more tolerant of Cal. Convincing Cal of that, however, was the challenge.

Cal slid to the floor on his knees. “But you have to! I am useless like this and I ... I don’t want to be sold to a Brothel House!”

The horror stories of Furniture in Brothel Houses were very real. Regardless of whether they were a eunuch or not, the masters of the brothels often allowed their worst and most violent customers free reign over Furniture as long as their bodies were still young and supple. The damage that could be done, or what one could be forced to do when you have no sexual desire was terrifying. And the Furniture that were too mature for such tastes, like Katze, were usually recycled.

A shudder overtook him before he could stop it, but he shook it off.

“Cal, get up.”

Cal obeyed, because he was trained to.

“I’m not going to terminate you, because Iason would then terminate me, and I have no desire to die.”

“But...” Call lifted his shimmering gaze. “What am I to do?”

Katze held out his hand. “Let’s call Iason.”

“No!” Cal scooted backwards until he was against the bed, which looked rather comical with his now longer legs. “Please don’t call him! I’ll do anything! Please!”

Horrified to have the usually calm and stoic boy suddenly so desperate, Katze moved forward and did the only thing he could think of, he crouched on the floor and pulled Cal into his arms.

“I won’t!” he assured, alarmed to find Cal was shaking so badly that he feared he would rattle the teeth out of his head. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t call him.” At least not about this. He gave Iason weekly updates on how Cal was, but he would not mention this, for now at least.

Cal couldn’t remember ever being held, except the one brief time that Riki had hugged him, and he was shocked to find the sudden warmth from another caused him to tremble even more. He had lain with his master, but it was not the same; he’d been no more than a pillow to Lord Mink during his recovery, and the Blondie had been asleep. This was different.

His arms lay limp at his sides, for he was unsure what else to do with them and his heart threated to beat out of his chest. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t how a Furniture behaved! How could he degrade himself like this? A spark of memory came back to him, from somewhere deep in his subconscious.

“Cal?”

Cal realized that Katze had been calling to him. This would not do! He should have answered the first time Katze called.

“Yes, sir?” he asked, sound calm despite his inner turmoil.

Katze was peering at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir.” He was nothing. He felt nothing. This is how it was, how he was. It was a relief to return to nothing. It no longer mattered what Lord Mink chose for him, because he had no opinions, no wishes, no feelings. He had no rights, no thoughts, no worries. He was nothing.

“Shit.” Katze, as if understanding the sudden transformation pulled Cal close again. “Come on, don’t do that. Not with me.”

After a few moments, when Cal remained stiff and silent, Katze pulled back, stood and pulled the boy with him. “Let’s go buy you some new clothes, at least.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Katze rolled his eyes

Guy tested out his new mechanical arm by throwing an apple in the air and catching it. He took another apple and juggled them with the same hand. He did the same with a knife, then he threw an apple in the air with the knife, effectively pinning the fruit to the wall.

There was no delay in what he wanted the arm to do and what it did. It felt a little heavier than his real arm, but the organic flesh that covered it matched the skin on the other so you couldn’t tell it was synthetic circuitry. This arm did feel stronger than his right, much stronger actually.