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1. Epsilon

CHAPTER 1

Epsilon

T he security guard frisking the Master of House Epsilon had made a mistake.

Not in missing any concealed weapons: Master Epsilon carried none on him, and if he had, he was sure they would have been found. The guard wasn't unskilled at his job – at least, the professional aspects of it. No, it was the unprofessional way he'd skimmed his hand for a third time under the curve of Epsilon's ass, and the subsequent cheeky squeeze, that had led to his wrist being snapped.

Epsilon did not tolerate unprofessionalism.

He certainly did not tolerate people touching what they hadn't paid for.

"This man may need medical attention," he told the meeting room in the brief lull between screams when the guard finally heaved in a breath. Epsilon took his seat at the table between Masters Sigma and Theta, watching the white-faced man drop to his knees and clutch his broken wrist to his chest.

"For the stars' sake," Master Nu said in exasperation, and then with a sigh they flicked their fingers at someone in the corridor to haul the injured guard away. The gesture was imperious, unhesitating: the movements of a person well used to being obeyed.

Master Theta stretched languidly to draw the table's attention. His shoulder-length silver hair, sometimes loose, was tied back today. Combined with his sharp features and pale eyes, the man was exceptionally handsome; the type that had flourished with age, rather than being reduced by it.

"You know our Epsilon," he said with an indulgent smile, letting his outstretched arm drop possessively over the back of Epsilon's chair. "Defender of the innocent."

"Innocent?" Master Tau repeated with a snort, but it wasn't said cruelly. He gestured around the table, including himself in the movement, and then scratched his whiskered chin. "I dare say we all lost our innocence a long time ago. Somewhere amongst the unspeakable debauchery and the stacks of cold, hard credits, I imagine."

Theta shook his head, a lock of silver-grey hair coming loose from behind his ear to fall across his face. "Not our innocence, nor his own," he said, and gave Epsilon a fond, knowing smile. And damn it, he did know him, far too well. "Epsilon knew that if that man had the audacity to feel up a House Master, he's likely done worse to others. We don't allow freebies."

A wave of mild disgruntlement rattled around the table.

Nu clicked their tongue, their disapproval effortlessly changing targets as they swayed with the mood of the room. "The fool. He should have known a Master wouldn't hesitate to put him in his place for such disrespect, Dominant or no."

Familiar annoyance surged through Epsilon, but he kept it from his expression with practised ease. The other House Masters never missed an opportunity to remind themselves – and him – that Epsilon was the only switch among them, as though that was somehow to blame for anything he did against the norm. As though one couldn't be sometimes submissive in bed and still be a formidable businessman or woman or in Nu's case, businessperson, and yet, it was exactly what they thought. The other six people at the table – Master Rho hadn't yet arrived – were all exclusively Dominants and extremely fucking proud of that fact, as proud of the Houses they each ran in the sky city of Xerxes.

But that was something he had in common with them, at least. Epsilon had worked hard to open his own House, had done many despicable things so that he could sit here now, head held high and pockets flush, and know he would never feel the same fear or stomach-wracking hunger he had as a child.

"If we could make a start on our meeting," he said dryly, and there were a few rueful smiles and dips of heads from the other Masters as he reminded them of their own professionalism.

"Indeed," agreed Omicron. He glanced around, his gaze lingering on the empty chair at their table. "Perhaps she has…"

"Apologies for my lateness," said a voice from the doorway. Epsilon glanced over to find Rho striding briskly towards them, her auburn hair bouncing around her shoulders. "There was word of a raid tonight on House Rho. Bullshit, thankfully, but it made the staff nervous."

"Ah, Master Rho," greeted Theta. "I'm afraid our security has been…" He glanced at Epsilon and raised one amused eyebrow. "Indisposed. If you wouldn't mind assuring us of your intentions towards us, or rather your lack of them?"

Rho rolled her eyes but obligingly skimmed her hands up her slim waist and around her breasts, pausing with them cupped in her hands and offering a playful wink to complete the salacious pose. Sigma whistled, a couple of the other Masters laughed, and Rho completed the exaggerated self-frisk by daintily swinging one leg up to reveal the lacy underwear beneath her short skirt. Kissing her own shin as she hugged her leg to her face in an impressive demonstration of vertical splits, she then ran her hands suggestively down the sheer stockings as if it were possible to have hidden so much as a slip of paper beneath them.

"You haven't lost your touch, Rho," Nu said with a cheerful snicker.

"Fuck you," she said sweetly in return, taking her seat.

"You look tense, Epsilon," Master Theta murmured in his ear, pitched too low for anyone else to hear. His hand gently patted Epsilon's knee under the table, the gesture of reassurance becoming something else when he left it there. "Is there anything I can do to help you relax?"

"I'm fine," Epsilon said.

"You could kneel at my feet, darling," offered Theta mildly, grazing fingers up his thigh.

At a Coterie meeting? Absolutely fucking not.

Epsilon wasn't above some public humiliation play – and indeed, his pulse quickened at the prospect – but it would bring him nothing but disdain from the other Masters. They were the kind who would gladly get off on using submissives, who relied on them for their own pleasure, yet thought such people utterly beneath them. Epsilon would lose the little respect he'd managed to scrape out for himself.

He blocked Theta's hand when it drifted between his legs, and waited until the Master retracted it to his own lap. The man's jaw twitched in irritation but he stared stoically ahead, pretending to listen to the chatter of the rest of the room.

Master Sigma's painted fingernails rapped on the surface of the table, quietening them all, and she arched an eyebrow. "Are we getting on with it? Time is money."

Wasn't that the truth? Epsilon could count his life in credits: those earned on his knees, or his back, or bent over in a filthy alleyway. The only difference was that for the last five years since he'd achieved his Mastery, his favoured position had been seated in a comfy chair while he struggled with spreadsheets and profit margins, and sweet-talked Kyle into having the difficult conversations with his staff so Epsilon didn't have to do it himself.

Whore to pimp. It might not have been the most glamorous life, but by the stars at least it was a life. There were many on Xerxes who weren't so lucky.

Including the poor souls raised as the first agenda item: confirmed rumours of an unlicensed brothel on Level G of the city.

"I had one of my girls check the place out," Master Lambda was saying, scratching his beard as he shook his head in disgust. "She said it was an absolute mess. The whores were inexperienced, over-priced, and weren't even using protection runes."

Everyone but Epsilon shuddered in visible disgust. He was similarly horrified, but he'd learned long ago to hide what he was really feeling.

It was safer that way.

"I'll get the police to tear the shithole down tonight," Nu promised. "Its so-called proprietor will spend the next decade behind bars for crossing the Coterie."

The Coterie – the collection of Masters present in the room – all nodded in grim satisfaction. Their exclusive organisation offered no tolerance for competition when the rules were both simple and clear: the eight of them controlled sex work across the city of Xerxes, and stars help anyone who tried to muscle in on their space. The Coterie held partnerships with other syndicates, everything from vices like gambling to more honest trades such as bricklaying, but it was well known that thanks to them, whoring was the most regulated industry in Xerxes.

Sex was as serious and profitable a business in this post-apocalyptic world as it had been before the destruction of the Earth eighty years ago.

The major agenda items were worked through over the next hour, one by one. The rising cost of good quality lubricant, and what would be done about it. A major event House Lambda was hosting next week. An accidental injury to one of the staff at House Nu that would sideline the girl for at least a fortnight. A request that Epsilon himself was making on behalf of his longest-serving employee, Kyle Randall, which he was relieved was accepted with minimal fuss.

Then it was onto the quarterly profit and loss analysis, and he couldn't help but feel pleased when he shared the numbers from his House and found they once again exceeded several of the others. Business was going well, as it had been ever since House Epsilon found its stride three years ago, and he didn't miss the sullen glares tossed his way from a couple of the other Masters when they thought he wasn't looking.

Theta coughed pointedly at his side and they all smoothed their expressions back to neutrality.

"Stars, are we finally done?" Sigma groaned, stretching out in her chair. "I hate these quarterly meetings. They last forever ."

"Well, if you'd like to skip the next part, Sigma…" Nu suggested playfully, and Sigma held up her hands in horror.

"Fuck, no. It's the only thing that gets me here."

She wasn't alone in that sentiment. Which was precisely why someone or another – Epsilon wasn't sure was responsible, for it had been in place long before he was admitted to their ranks – had had the bright idea of bribing attendance at the arduous quarterly meetings with free pleasure.

The Masters took it in turns to pocket a generous allowance from the Coterie's budget in exchange for supplying a handful of whores from their House. Today's must have been organised by Tau, for he strode purposefully towards the door to allow eight long-legged and under-dressed individuals to enter the room, immediately sweeping one off her feet and making her giggle as she was wrapped up in his strong arms.

Master Lambda was already unzipping his trousers, ever the image of efficiency, and the man he sent to his knees at his feet equally wasted no time in swallowing him down. The remainder paired off with a waiting Master, but Epsilon waved away the woman who approached him. She was pretty, and seemingly willing, but he wasn't in the mood.

Yet for one delightful second, he had the absurd idea of offering to staff the next meeting. For the promise of overtime pay his men would gladly service the Masters of the Coterie, all eager smiles and seductive gazes as they sought to impress the owners of the other brothels.

Epsilon would take Kyle for himself, of course.

The moment of stupidity continued as he imagined sinking his dick into that laughing mouth, tangling his fingers through artfully dishevelled blonde hair and rubbing his thumbs over those angled cheekbones. Perhaps he could somehow keep him for the whole night, offering to pay Kyle's full rate as though he was a client.

Now there was a thought. If only he wasn't the Master of House Epsilon, and could walk through its front doors instead of the back. He'd demand to be given the best of the House's whores, pay the credits without question, and be led to a softly lit room with a bed, a cupboard full of toys he'd beg to be used on him, and...Kyle.

But that was where the fantasy soured. For if Epsilon was nothing more than just another client, Kyle's face wouldn't light up upon seeing him. He'd offer polite enthusiasm, naturally – Epsilon had drilled into him the pretence of whoring, and Kyle had proven adept at the broad smiles, ready compliments, and breathless awe necessary to ensure a client returned to spend more money at the House – but Epsilon would know it was just an act.

No, he wanted Kyle as he was at his core: caring, sweet, quick-tongued, and thoughtful. And he wanted to be himself around the other man too, but that was a whole other dream and one even more impossible than pretending to be a client.

Epsilon was brought back to reality with the surprise of Master Theta turning away his own scantily-clad entertainment.

"You're not interested?" Epsilon asked, and Theta turned hungry eyes on him.

"Not for them. But you? Always."

Epsilon was silent.

"Shall we get out of here and lose you these fancy clothes of yours?" Theta asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge that had once been all Epsilon lived for. He tugged lightly on his suit jacket. "I miss watching you submit to me."

The offer wasn't without temptation.

It had been too long since anyone had put him in his place properly, and he craved the touch of a firm hand. He was currently training up someone new at House Epsilon but the man was a submissive, which meant the scenes where he was encouraged to dominate Epsilon would be rare and only to help him understand the responsibilities of the opposing role. Epsilon doubted he'd find the release he was looking for when it was the gentle Deacon standing over him.

Stars, it really had been too long. Five years perhaps, since Epsilon had last had the pleasure of...

He pushed back thoughts of wide smiles, and toned chests scattered with curls of blonde hair, and playful but firm reprimands. Nostalgia didn't do anyone any good.

And yet there was only one man Epsilon imagined surrendering to; fantasised about, with his hand wrapped around himself when he was alone. And it wasn't the Master of House Theta.

He brushed Theta off for the second time that night. "I'm afraid I have work to do back at the House before my staff arrive."

For a moment, Theta seemed as though he was going to press the matter, his fingers tightening around his sleeve.

Epsilon tensed.

And then Theta relaxed. "Of course, Akira," he said, drawing back and offering a polite smile. He brushed silver strands of hair from his face, feigning indifference. "Some other time, perhaps."

"Epsilon."

"Hmm?"

"It's Master Epsilon," he repeated. "Not Akira."

"Oh yes, I forgot how precious you are about your name," Theta said airily, a man who never forgot anything. He'd been known to hold grudges for decades.

"If I can't expect you to honour my request not to use my name, surely you can't expect anything of me in turn," Epsilon responded, rising from his chair. "Such as my company outside of formal Coterie business."

"By the stars, you can be an icy bitch sometimes," Theta murmured, yet offered a smile that was evidently intended to soften his words.

But Epsilon neither needed nor wanted softening. Icy bitch suited him just fine. Icy bitch was safer, and safe was good.

Safe was all that mattered.

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