This is a slave story, so it contains all the usual slave things, including corporal punishment, and some non-con sex (not explicit). Thanks to Damigella for her help with this. And although this isn't a CollarVerse story thanks to Oflymonddreams, without their encouragment to write in the CollarVerse I doubt I would ever have written this, let alone posted it :) And if you haven't read their CollarVerse stories you should go check them out, right now :)

"Doctor Foreman is starting this morning Greg - he'll have the office next to mine, we'll be working on the redesign of the hospital together. He has his own slave, I'll need you to make sure the slave knows where everything is and how he is to conduct himself in my hospital."

Doctor Cuddy finished buttoning up her blouse and held her arms up for her slave to help her on with her jacket. He came forward with the garment in his hands and obediently slipped it over her arms but she caught a glimpse of a sulky expression on his face.

"Don't frown Gregory, it's very unattractive. I'm sure that helping a new slave find his way around the hospital will hardly be a test of your abilities."

She smoothed down the front of her tight jacket and admired herself in the mirror, yes, she looked ready for the day ahead. The Board had finally approved a complete overhaul of the hospital, including all procedures and structure, as well as a new wing. They'd also brought in a young Doctor who had a growing reputation on the East Coast for his radical ideas. She'd interviewed Doctor Foreman and had concluded he would be a good fit. She also knew that he came from a poorer background and this slave of his was the first he'd ever owned, and had been acquired shortly before his move to New Jersey. He might well need some help with handling the slave, if he was anything as troublesome as Greg was, although to be fair, very few slaves were as difficult as Greg.

She glanced over at her slave, now standing quietly in a corner of the room. He didn't have his hands behind his back and his head lowered as he should but she would have been surprised if he had taken that stance. She didn't expect Greg to be the perfect slave, she did expect him to do what he was told. Mostly he managed that. She'd had Greg since she was in college, he had been a leaving home gift from her parents. He'd been with her through medical school, internship and every appointment since. He was tall, his over six feet looming over her relatively short stature despite her massive heels. His most striking feature were his startlingly blue eyes, and the quick intelligence that lurked behind them. Quite athletic in his younger days, she used to race him, during medical school and had earned some handy money doing so. A few years ago he'd suffered a crippling infarction in his right thigh and was now very lame.

Her friends had often urged her to get rid of her crippled, aging slave, and find herself a younger, more agile one, but she would never do that. Greg had many hidden talents and had proven invaluable to her. He just needed a firm hand and steady discipline at all times. Luckily his disability had also given her a useful tool to help control him.

She reached up onto the top shelf of her bedroom unit, where she kept his medication and picked up the bottle. She noticed his eyes following her every move and smiled to herself. Yes, Greg was much easier to control now.

She tipped his day's portion out into her hand and slipped them inside a pocket of her jacket, keeping one out. She held that one out to him.

"Your medication, Greg."

He moved quickly and took it out of her hand, wary eyes on her until she gave a nod. At this silent permission he tipped the pill into his mouth and crunched down on it, breaking up the bitter tablet and sucking on the pieces. She grimaced at the sight, she did not know how he could bear the bitter substance, but then she'd never been addicted to Vicodin.

His tense body relaxed somewhat and some of the lines on his face smoothed out. She knew that the effect of the tablet was purely psychological at this point, pain killers just did not work that quickly, even when they were chewed up. She stood still, waiting and finally he glanced at her and then dipped his head slightly.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, his tone sincere at least.

"As I said, Gregory - I expect you to be helpful with the new slave."

"Yes, ma'am." His eyes flicked to the pocket of her jacket where the remainder of today's dose was lurking and she knew he had received her message.

Doctor Foreman was waiting in her office when she got in, he was seated in a comfortable chair in front of the desk. A slave was kneeling by his side in perfect form. Doctor Foreman looked around when she entered, and rose, the slave, quite correctly, did not.

"Doctor Foreman," Cuddy came forward and shook his hand while Greg peeled off to stand behind her desk, cane in hand, ready to do whatever she ordered. She didn't make him kneel as a standard thing anymore, with his injury it was particularly painful - she reserved that for disciplinary proceedings. "Would you like coffee before we begin?"

Foreman sat back down in his seat, leaning back confidently. "My slave will fetch it if you wish."

"My slave, Greg, will assist your slave today in finding his way around the hospital, and acquainting him with the rules, and his duties. The coffee pot on this floor is temperamental but Greg has mastered it - I'm sure he will pass this arcane knowledge on to..." she trailed off and stared at the slave who had yet to move since she entered the room.

"His name is Jimmy." Foreman clicked his tongue and the slave's head came up, eyes fixed on his master. "Jimmy, go with Greg, he will show you where everything is. We'll both have coffee."

The slave rose smoothly to his feet and Cuddy caught a glimpse of his fine features. He was boyish looking, although she suspected he wasn't as young as he appeared, his hair was carefully styled, and he had appealing chocolate brown eyes. Foreman had him dressed as stylishly as himself, in a well tailored pair of pants and shirt, and his collar was a striking wide band of silver.

"My compliments on your slave, he is quite attractive," she said, a smile gracing her face as she regarded him, she wondered what Foreman's policy was on sharing. The slave blushed a very becoming red and looked flustered at her compliment, much to her amusement. Foreman glanced at him and then away. His eyes flitted to Greg, still standing behind her chair and she shrugged ruefully.

"Greg has other useful abilities. You may go and fetch the coffee Greg and when you have brought that back take Jimmy for a tour around the hospital. You have your pager on?" At his nod she continued, "I will page you if I need you to return. Make it a thorough tour, Jimmy should be able to find his own way around after today."

Greg limped out of Cuddy's office, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the new slave was following behind him.

"Come on, don't keep her ladyship waiting, when she wants her coffee she wants it now." He nimbly dodged past the people milling around in the clinic's waiting room, careful not to touch any of them and to keep his head down. There was a small staff kitchen behind the clinic and he slipped in there. As he gathered together the coffee things he glanced over at his silent companion.

"You gonna help or you just going to stand there looking pretty, Jim boy?"

"Jimmy, they call me Jimmy," the slave said quietly, apparently he could talk.

"Yeah, well I'm not one of them." Greg looked up, the slave was still standing there like moss on a log. "What do you want to be called?"

The new slave gawked at him, his mouth hanging open. Greg rolled his eyes, he didn't know what the idiot's problem was – maybe he was just an idiot. But he wasn't about to stand here waiting for him to make up his mind. He didn't want his ass warmed up this morning just because the stupid new slave couldn't get his butt into gear. He turned to the coffee machine and made two coffees.

"James. I used to be James." The slave's voice was soft, hesitant, as if he was unused to thinking, or speaking, for himself – as no doubt he was. He sounded surprised, as if he was recalling his name for the first time.

"Great. James it is." Greg picked up Cuddy's coffee and spat in it, then he picked up a spoon and stirred it in. James was staring at him again and Greg held out Foreman's coffee to him.

"Your turn." He thought James was going to faint on the spot. Instead he did that goldfish trick with his mouth again and then weakly protested.

"You can't do that."

"Sure I can – who's going to know? You're not going to tell anyone, are you James?" James stared at him some more and then slowly a hesitant smile appeared on his face and he spat in Foreman's coffee. He looked around immediately, as if he was afraid Foreman would suddenly appear. Greg held up his fist for a fist bump, something he'd seen many of the doctors and other staff doing.

"My man, James." James just looked at him with those wide saucer eyes and Greg sighed and put down his hand.

"Never mind." Greg turned back to the counter, grabbed a few cookies, shoved one in his mouth, demolishing it in a few bites, and put the rest on a small plate and then put the coffees and cookies on a tray. He tucked his cane under one arm, picked up the tray and was turning to go when he felt a firm hand on his arm.

"I'll take the tray, it'll be easier for you."

Greg looked up in surprise and then shrugged and let go of the tray. "Sure, just don't drop the fucking thing. Mistress Cuddy has a nice little whipping post set up outside and she's not afraid to use it."

James swallowed heavily and nodded seriously. He took the tray carefully, and balanced it as if his life depended on it and they went back into the lobby area. James suddenly stopped still and Greg almost ran into him.

"Watch where you're going, you moron." He looked curiously at James who was staring at the usual hospital activity with a grim expression. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I just don't like hospitals." James said and started moving again, his stride sure and steady as he made his way back to Cuddy's office. Greg followed behind him, a smile creasing his face. One thing he knew already about James, he certainly wasn't boring.