A/N: This is set in a fictional world with fictional lands and countries. That's why all the names are altered. This is a very experimental fic on my part, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. There will be a few fantasy elements here as well.

Any Low would be grateful to work in the finest bath house in all of Sirap, capitol of the great Venus nation. At least, that was what Krump always said. Krump was Arthur's master, a stout fellow with a thick mustache and sweaty face. How he sweated so much was beyond Arthur, since the Low hardly ever seen him do any work himself.

But work was for Lows anyway.

A familiar High was sprawled on the heated soft pebbles in Room 3. His name was Antonio, a High from a land called Spawn. Antonio was waiting expectedly for someone to come care for him. It appeared that it was up to Arthur to fetch the elusive Talin. Arthur groaned. He walked downstairs to the Low basement and found Lovino cursing away as he polished some black boots. Dirty work like that was to be performed well away from a High's sight, so the Lows had this basement for just that. Lovino glared at the person who dared to interrupt his work.

"What do you want, bastard? Are you even working at all?"

Arthur returned the glare, pissed that Lovino accused him of that. Really? He was doing more work than just polishing boots. There were three Highs that could call him at any minute and it was his job to clean the lobby today.

"I'll have you know that I'm attending to three Highs at once. It's only a matter of time-" Just like that, a red glow on Arthur's wrist told him to get his arse to Room 6. He sighed, "Antonio. Room 3. Now."

He rushed back upstairs as Lovino started spewing curses liberally.

"Not that fucking bastard again! How many times do I have to take care of him! I hate that bastard! I hate him I hate him."

Arthur hurried along, trying to dodge everybody coming his way and making sure to give an apologetic nod to the Highs. He was almost there-

Slam! Arthur flew up and landed arse first.

"What the bloody hell? Alfred! For God's sakes, look where you're going."

Meanwhile, Alfred had also landed on his bottom. There were scented towels everywhere, ones that had no doubt been a tower in Alfred's hands and covering his line of sight. Alfred glared at his best friend.

"Come on, dude! It wasn't my fault."

Arthur scrambled to collect the towels for Alfred. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to get a whipping for negligence or tardiness.

"Well, hurry up! I need to-"

He was about to grab a rose scented towel when a rather filthy boot landed on it, preventing him from getting it. The stress overload ignited a yell from Arthur and he started crying out before thinking.

"Get your bloody foot off that towel, you wanker!"

He happened to glance Alfred's way and his heart went cold when he saw the expression on the blonde's face. Alfred gave him that look, the one every Low knew, the one that silently told another Low that you just fucked up in front of a superior.

Good God. He didn't. Arthur closed his eyes and dared to look up. The expensive clothes, clean and smooth skin and extravagant blue cloak told him that he had just cursed out a High. Why was the man's boots so dirty? It didn't matter. It wasn't like Arthur could use that as an excuse to get out of trouble anyway. The High was staring down at him, not angrily per say, but definitely annoyed.

And as luck would have it, Krump came up. He bowed to the High. He was only a Middle, after all.

"Lord Francis! I'm very sorry. Did my Lows offend you?"

Lord Francis gave him a sideways glance before a smirk appeared on his face.

"You have one with a dirty mouth, I must admit."

The High's hand went under Arthur's chin and grabbed it, forcing him to look him in the eye. The High's eyes were just as blue as his dyed coat and his hair was a bright yellow tied back in a small ponytail. Arthur bit his lip to keep as quiet as possible, for one more word out of him could get him killed at this point. His only small ounce of relief was the fact that Lord Francis was smiling at him. Or smirking would be a better word.

Krump glared down at Arthur. The cold look on his eyes told Arthur that there would be no escaping punishment.

"I'll have him eat twenty bars of soap, m'Lord. That should clean his mouth."

Soap was dangerous to ingest and too much could be venomous. Would that punishment kill him then? Probably not. Antidote for simple poisons were not hard to come by these days. He was sure Krump would spare him from death.

But Arthur almost wanted to die right now. Especially now that this creep was stroking his face and there was nothing Arthur could do about it.

Lord Francis smirked, "There's no need for zat. I cannot stay mad at such a pretty face. Oh? It's turning a lovely shade of pink now. What's your name?"

Lord Francis had asked him a question, which meant he had half a second to answer. But Arthur was struck speechless, only partially due to shock. The other was the result of raw anger. Surely there was no blush on his face. He was simply stunned that the High called him attractive. This man was a creep!

The High frowned from the lack of response. Meanwhile, Krump was sending him a chilling stare.

"Answer him now, Arthur."

Lord Francis's humor seemed to restore already. This man tossed his emotions around like a ball. Arthur wondered if he had some mental disorder.

"Arthur. A wonderful name. From the Brita Isles, yes? I can tell already, especially from your accent and your choice of dirty words."

Arthur managed to calm himself just enough to sound sincerely apologetic, "Please forgive me, my Lord. I'm a fool."

Lows were always expected to insult themselves when apologizing. Arthur hoped that insult was enough to appease the High. Maybe Francis would forgive him and he wouldn't have to endure punishment?

"Yes," Lord Francis purred and it creeped Arthur out, "A fool. My lovely little fool."

A new voice sparred Arthur from answering.

"Flirting with another Low? And it's not even that cute. Wow Francis. Your choice in men are just tasteless."

A silverhaired High came up with a big grin on his face and even bigger mug of what looked like alcohol. There was a tiny bird perched comfortably on his shoulder. Francis let go of Arthur's chin and stood up to greet his friend.

"Kettle calling pot black, aren't we Gilbert?"

Gilbert didn't stopped grinning but the smile did falter a tad. Francis turned back to Arthur.

"Run along, petite lapin. Your arm is beeping."

Arthur realized that the button on his wrist was an angry red. Dammit, he pissed off Room 6, now he was going to get double punishment. He stood up but made sure his head was still low.

"Thank you, Master," he felt his cheeks heat up. He ran out of there as fast as he could.

He rushed as quickly as he could to a steaming High that showed him pruned hands as he continued to sit in the bath.

"Look at my hands, you whore! You should've come as soon as I called you. Help me now, useless."

Arthur rushed while insulting himself and apologizing profusely. He repeated that he had no excuses, and the High snorted.

"Of course there's not. How are you going to make this," he gestured to his winkled hand, "better? How are you going to make up for this?"

The Britan closed his eyes and bowed as low as he could.

"I'm yours to punish."

What he wouldn't give to get revenge on this man. Next time the fatso asked for a steamed mocha, Arthur would spit in it. Several times. The Low managed to avoid smirking at the thought.

"I will have a stern talk with your master. You better believe that, you Low. Now get my towel!"

Later, much later that night, only after the Highs and Middles went to bed, were the Lows allowed to rest in their small dorms. Arthur shared a room with Alfred and Lovino. The room was so small that the beds took up the entire space. Arthur walked over Alfred, who was laying down and munching on some fried bread.

Arthur sat down and propped up a book. It was simply a cookbook about rice but it was the only reading material Arthur had. The only escape from his reality. Lovino came in, muttering curses as he normally did.

"That stupid Spawnish bastard. Touching me there. And what kind of moron asks questions like that? My god he needs to get himself a boyfriend. I fucking hate him."

"Yeah, we know Lovino," Alfred joked.

"I wasn't talking to you!"

"I guess you were just speaking to the voices in your head then?" Arthur smirked.

Lovino grumbled and laid down. Arthur snuggled up to Alfred, just like they were kids. The blankets weren't enough to keep warm, so the two liked to share body heat. Arthur thought back to that one High he accidentally insulted.

What would that wanker do? Highs stayed in the baths for a few days and this was the first time that Arthur saw him. He had a feeling that would not be their last encounter, so how would Lord Francis act when he saw him again? Would he punish Arthur himself? Make him do all kinds of work? Arthur stretched out his sore muscles. He needed to relax them as much as possible.

"Wake up, Artie."

Arthur winced his eyes open. Alfred was shaking him. Did he fall asleep? He couldn't even remember closing his eyes. Alfred had already put on his spectacles, so he was ready for their breakfast. Arthur wanted to sacrifice food for a few more minutes of sleep. He closed his eyes again.

"Wake me after breakfast."

Alfred shook him even harder, sending Arthur into a shock.

"You can't keep skipping meals. Look at how thin you are. Come eat with me. Come on come on come on!"

"Alright!" Arthur shot up and angrily started to dress. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry. It was that he was still so very, very tired. And now he would have to face the day pretending he was full of energy, and happy and eager to please.

Such a disgusting life a Low lived. If only he were a High. Hell, he would give his left foot to be a Middle, at least then he would be paid better. What Lows get is a mere few coins. If they saved enough of it, they could buy small luxuries like a pillow.

Alfred and he sat at the same table. The Mercan brought the plates and laid one in front of Arthur. The Britan stared at the meal in wonder. Was that meat?

A piece of sausage rested on top of the normal handful of boiled oats. It was pitifully small, but it was very obviously meat. Arthur's mouth watered and he took a bite, relishing in the pork flavor. There could only be one explanation.

"There's going to be a celebration of some sort," he stated out loud.

The people in charge liked getting a lot of supplies for parties and they would give the Lows a small portion in order to entice them into working harder. Alfred gobbled up his oats.

"Guess so. I wonder if the Highs will bring some Low servants to the party?"

Alfred suddenly appeared solemn and Arthur knew that he was thinking about his little brother. Matthew was purchased by some unknown High and taken away from Alfred. Arthur remembered how much the Mercan sobbed when it happened. They had found each other after being separated at birth, only to have each other torn apart once more.

Arthur didn't want to stomp out any hope that Alfred might be feeling, so he kept quiet.

A few minutes later, Arthur found himself in Room 6 once more. The High was already in the neck deep, porcelain tub. He smirked when the Low entered and instructed Arthur to lock the door.

With a dreadful weight in his chest, Arthur did as he was told, lingering only a few seconds before turning to his master.

"I'm yours to punish," he recited.

"Yes, you are. Get in the tub."

Arthur jolted, sure he misheard. "My lord?"

"Didn't you hear me? Undress and get in the tub."

It was a terrible realization that struck Arthur. He gulped and thought of ways to get out of this. Not this. Anything but what the High was thinking. Arthur would even eat fifty bars of soap over this.

"My lord. I can't. Please," he gripped onto his pants like they were going to be ripped from him.

The High glowered and it was a frightening sight to see. He had Arthur's life in his hands, so he was displeased that the Low dare to resist.

"I've spoken to your master and he's already granted me permission. You should be honored. Get in the tub and kiss me. Now."

"Please," Arthur suddenly had an idea for a good excuse, "Don't lower yourself by sleeping with me. I'm just a Low."

"Don't flatter yourself. It's not like you're that attractive. I just want to punish you and get pleasure out of it at the same time. You've already had me waiting for too long. If you don't get in the tub-"

Bang! The door broke open with a kick. Arthur jumped back and the High began to curse the intruder, but he stopped immediately when he saw who it was. There was a hierarchy among the Highs and it would appear that Lord Francis was a few steps higher than he.

Where did the man learn to kick with such force? Lord Francis didn't even turn to him. He kept his icy gaze on the High, then, he suddenly smiled like nothing had happened.

"Forgive me, but I need to take this Low for my own services."

"Your own…services?" the High sputtered.

"I realize you had him first, but I told Krump that I'm thinking of purchasing a new slave," finally, Lord Francis turned to Arthur, "Congratulations."