Written by Cinder
Based on some situations originated by James Cameron.
Rated NC-17 for Content
Warning: This story contains slash. If this makes you uncomfortable, please
don’t read it.
"I never loved her, you
know. You did? That's so pathetic." Gingerly, Cal picked up the boy's arm
and rubbed it, trying to coax more circulation like the doctor had told him to,
his words completely at odds with his actions. "You almost died, you know.
She did die. How does that make you feel?"
Jack moaned softly.
"No one wanted to heal a
little poor boy. They were going to let you die on the deck until I stepped in.
I own you now."
"No, please..." Jack
finally gasped out. "Cal..."
With a smile, he covered the
young man's mouth, stilling any further words. "You will call me Master.
Do you understand, boy? You will not contradict me again or I will throw you
back into the sea. It's still cold down there. You remember?" A small nod.
"I've saved you, boy. Aren't you grateful?" There was no response.
"Do you want to die, boy? I can arrange that." Violent shake of the
head. "You should show your gratitude, then." Very slowly, Cal pulled
his hand away from Jack's cracked, bloody lips and turned it over. There was a
long pause before Jack finally kissed it. "Good boy." And he ruffled
Jack's hair, frowning as the generous blond locks splintered and cracked. The
doctor had promised a full recovery. He had better not be wrong.
The next few days of the voyage
into New York, Cal oversaw Jack's recovery personally. It was amazing what
decent food and rest could do for the boy. Brittle bones were mending and
cloudy eyes were clearing...and temper was flaring. Obnoxious brat.
Only One Morning Later
"I won't be anyone's slave,
Cal!" He spit at the proffered hand.
Wrapping his fingers tightly
around the boy's neck, he leaned in until his warm breath invaded the choking
throat. "You'll do what I say or you'll die. Choose. I'm growing tired of
this game of yours."
"Master," Jack croaked
out, his limbs too weak to fight back, his neck dangerously close to cracking.
But that was hardly the end of it. As the boy got stronger, the testing
happened more and more often.
"Why?" he blurted out
one day. "Why me?"
Ah…finally, the question.
"As I've said to you before, I never cared for Rose. Sit down, boy. I
won't talk to you unless you're on the floor where you belong." Jack
didn't move. "Don't make me chain you down. You won't like that." Very
slowly, with unconscious sensuous grace, Jack sank to the rich carpet,
cross-legged. Cal made a mental note to train the boy to kneel. "I never
cared for Rose. I never cared much for women in general, but realistically it
was a good marriage. Her family is very well-respected, if no longer rich, a
very good match for a man with lots of money but no name. You, little imp,
crashed into the proceedings with the kind of fire that garners people's
interest. Surely you realized that Rose was not the only person's attention you
had attracted?"
"I don't usually consider a
fairy lisper important."
Cal lifted his boot to kick the
boy, smiling at the automatic cringing it caused. He kicked hard to the jaw.
Jack didn't so much as whimper. "Pick yourself back up and say you're
sorry to your Master." Very slowly, Jack pushed himself upright. Cal
kicked him to the floor again. "On your knees this time." There was
going to be a very nice mark for some time. Jack pulled himself to his knees.
"Sorry, Master."
"Now, kiss my boots."
There was a very long pause. Cal
thought he was going to have to kick the boy again, but slowly he bent to his
master's boots and kissed them. At least for tonight, the boy had been cowed.
"As to your question, and I
must say that I have been waiting for a long time for you to ask it, you
attracted attention, lots of people's attention, mine in no small amount. You
don't know how beautiful you are, mores the pity. I intend to use you to my
satisfaction...after I break you, of course. We'll be in New York tomorrow.
You'll be staying with me."
"And if I choose
death?"
"You rejected that choice
long ago." Cal chuckled. "Don't be silly, boy. I can give you a
lifestyle you've never dreamed of before. All you have to do is obey me."
"I would rather be dead than
a slave!"
Grabbing Jack by the back of his
hair, he rose to his feet and balanced the boy on his toes. "You choice is
now pain or no pain. Death is no longer an option. I can make it hurt for as
long as I like. Be sensible and give in."
"Never!"
"I was hoping you would say
that." Whipping him around by the back of his head, Cal threw Jack over
the luxurious silk and lace bed. Jack tried to scramble away, but Cal held the
boy firmly with a simple hand to the small of his back. "I think this
would be a good time for me to prove exactly how much your master I am,
boy." With a yank, he pulled down the light cotton leggings, exposing the
chalky skin beneath.
"No!" Jack thrashed,
kicking wildly, catching Cal in the jaw, a mark to match his own.
"Bitch!" Cal shoved him
away. "This is the way you want to play it? I will break you if you make
me."
"Never!" Jack spit,
curling in on himself against the pillows, trying to hide his nudity.
Cal grabbed his arm and dragged
him off the bed. With a silk sash, he tied Jack's hands behind his back.
"Despite current appearances, I enjoy docility."
"Then find somebody else!
This is sick! You pansy lisper!"
Jack's body, still frail from his
recovery from hypothermia, was no match for the larger man. With ease, he threw
Jack over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "I’m going to open the
door now." He patted Jack's wiggling, naked ass for effect. "Keep
struggling and you'll draw attention to yourself. Is that what you want?"
The boy suddenly froze.
"Where are you taking
me?"
"You'll see." Striding
down the corridors, Cal tipped his hat to all the ladies, using the turn of his
body to partially conceal his bundle. But the men…he let them look. They
smiled; knowing it was that troublemaker Jack. Of course, it was perfectly
acceptable for Hockley to punish the boy, even kill him. Pretty little poor
boys were more than a nuisance. They were a threat. Jack had sufficiently
proven that, hadn't he?
As Cal descended into the bowels
of the ship, he stopped tipping his hat or making any move to hide his bundle
whatsoever. Rough hands reached out lewdly to pinch and prod Jack's pretty
white ass, splotched with red where the pinches had been fierce. The boy could
only moan and shudder, knowing that anymore than that would draw attention to
himself. He did not relish being thrown down in the hallway and kicked into
bloody submission.
Heat on his back was the only
indication he had that they had entered the boiler room.
"Gentlemen!" Cal
boomed. "I have, for you all, a special treat today. My boy here has some
fire in him. I can think of no one better to bank that fire." Jack
suddenly realized what Cal meant to do and began struggling, not caring what
the men saw. Cal simply dropped him to the floor.
"No! You can't do this! You
can't!"
"Does anyone have a
gag?"
Just a few seconds and one of the
men stepped forward with a grimy bandanna, stuffing it into the youth's mouth.
The boy was muffled, but not still, rolling wildly on the floor and kicking out
at his would-be attackers.
"Gentlemen, I'd prefer that
he lived. You all want him to visit you again, don't you? I'm going to go have
lunch, and after I'm finished, I'll return for him." He knelt and brushed
Jack's cheek with his fingers. "We wouldn't have to do this if you would
just obey me." Standing, he turned on his heel and went in search of his
noonday repast.
Lunch was delightful. Sitting out
on the foredeck, he munched happily on lobster with cream, butter, and mandarin
oranges. Thoughtfully, he felt, he pocketed a crust of bread for his young
slave. There was always a chance the boy wouldn’t be dead when he went back.
Jack was a bloody heap. Casually,
Cal checked his pulse. Stubborn boy. He just wouldn't die. Obviously, he had
been used and abused by the coal slingers. There was blood slowly leaking from
his lips and ass, blood and other things. His skin was crusted with grime and
he reeked of urine.
"You there," Cal called
out to one of the passing men, "carry him back to my room and you can have
another turn."
"Yes, Master," the man
replied eagerly, hoisting the battered body over his shoulders.
Instead of following, Cal
searched out a stewardess and ordered a bath immediately. By the time he got to
his stateroom, the coal slinger had almost finished with the boy. Jack was
conscious again and struggling, a token struggle because he didn’t want to be
hit again. Purple bruises were popping up all over his body. The coal slinger
was beautifully built, if dirty. Rivers of grime rolled off with his sweat,
staining the boy's alabaster skin. Obviously, the man had taken a turn before,
because he was taking his time now, pistoning his hips. He finished with a
grunt and shoved the boy back to the floor. Cal stood aside to let the man
leave. Jack curled up into a ball on the floor and sobbed.
Covering Jack with a light sheet,
he stood aside so that the stewardess could draw a bath and then dismissed her.
Lifting the boy, cuddling the frail body against his chest, he lowered him into
the bath and then began to gently wash him. "You were effervescent when I
first met you on that ship. We whispered to each other of your beauty. You're
still beautiful. I will see that you are unrivaled very soon. Would you like
that?" Jack could only sob hollowly into his chest. "You must trust
me. I will care for you, protect you; all you have to do is obey me. Is that so
hard?" Jack moaned softly. "I won't let them hurt you anymore. You'll
sleep in a soft bed. You'll eat rich food and wear expensive clothes. Don't you
want that?" Jack continued to sob. "Do you want to go back to the
boiler room so much?" The reaction was immediate. He seized up and grabbed
hold of Cal's collar.
"Please, no! Never that!
I'll be good! I promise I'll be good!"
"Then show me that you're
grateful."
A small kiss to his chin.
"Thank you, Master."
Cal lifted the boy out of the
tub, dimly noting that he was getting heavier, but was still painfully thin. He
was rubbed dry with a thick Turkish towel and then fed dinner by hand. Jack
kissed Cal's hand whenever it was offered. That night they slept together in
the silk and lace bed, Jack curled up tightly against Cal's side, whimpering
softly in his sleep.
In the morning, Cal woke to soft
blue eyes evaluating him. "What?"
"I don't know what to
do." He licked his lips, once, twice, a third time.
"You should make me
happy."
"How do I do that?"
"Kiss me good morning."
A chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth appeared. Cal shook his head and
laughed. Wrapping his long fingers around Jack's cheeks, he pulled him up for
another kiss. "You'll have to do better than that." Then he ravished
Jack's mouth. The boy was chastely obliging. "How do you feel today?"
"Sore."
"I bet. Lie here and I'll
get us some breakfast." Cal stood and stretched, showing off his
well-built body.
"Why are you being so nice
to me?"
"Because you're being good,
silly." He ruffled the boy's hair. "Get some more sleep. You'll need
it. We'll be in New York this afternoon, and you have to walk off the
boat."
Jack blushed. "I don't have
any clothes."
"I'll provide everything you
need from now on." Cal called for breakfast. Rich was not a good enough
word for what the stewardess brought. Bananas swam in cream, thick bread with
butter and jelly, and fat sausages. He fed his boy by hand, then shushed him
back to sleep again.
They docked around two, and Cal
finally woke Jack. "Hey, sleepyhead. Time to get up. We're almost ready to
leave."
"I hurt."
Cal waggled his finger over the
boy's nose. "None of that. I don't want to have to punish you. Now, out of
bed and show some respect." Jack was out of the bed faster than was
probably good for him, considering the way he was swaying. Purple bruises still
coated his skin. Cal indicated the clothes lying over a chair and Jack fumbled
into them in no time flat. They were obviously Cal's. The shirtsleeves had to
be rolled four times just to clear his hands and the pants made him feel like a
child. They weren’t much too long, but the waist had to be cinched with rope.
The suspenders just weren’t short enough. Cal nodded slowly, hiding his inner
enjoyment at the boy’s discomfort. "I don't know what I expected. You're
just so small. We'll have to buy you a new wardrobe as soon as we get
home."
"Do you mean
that...Master?"
"Of course I do." He
rose slowly from where he had been lounging on the bed. "Come on, then.
Our bags have already preceded us." He led the way.
*****
Jack's jaw dropped open in awe at
the sheer wealth surrounding him. The townhouse was magnificent. Situated
across from Washington Square Park, it faced the fountain through the two front
windows, framed in thick red damask. Around him, the carpet was plush between
his toes. The huge, wooden bed stood tall in the corner and other furniture
fanned out from it. Jack shuddered, contemplating the satin and goose down
folds. How much of his body was this going to cost him? How much of his soul?
He'd thrown away those huge
clothes as soon as he’d gotten into the room. They made him feel so small.
Wrapped up in Cal's sleeping jacket wasn't much better, but it had to do. The
fire was roaring, nearly overheating the room. He moved closer to the windows,
attempting to get cooler. He certainly did not want to remove his robe,
although that was what he feared his master intended.
Master. How had that term so
easily worked itself into his vocabulary? With a shudder, he remembered that it
hadn't been so easy. That was not going to happen to him again. All he had to
do was to be good, right? He could be good. And Cal...the larger man was so
nice to him when he was good.
He stared down at his feet in
disgust. How could he be thinking this way about the man who had allowed him to
be raped? Ordered! Let's get things straight here. But it remained true
that no one had ever treated him as nicely as Cal was now. Was this all too
much to ask, this master thing? Maybe he brought these things on himself.
The door opened behind him and he
whirled around to face it. Cal strutted into the room with a young fop
following him.
"Come here, boy. This is
Kyp. He's going to make your new clothes." He snapped his fingers and
pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him. Jack rushed to fill it.
"Take the robe off." Blushing, but more afraid of Cal than his own
embarrassment, he slipped the robe off and let it fall slowly to the ground.
Kyp wasn't helping.
"My, my, my, he is so
pretty." Kyp slowly circled him, pursing his pink lips. "I definitely
see it. Don't worry, darling. We'll make you into the prettiest belle of the
season. You just trust Kyp." The measuring tape was whipped out.
Cal settled into a nearby chair
to watch. "Hold still."
Jack froze, never taking his eyes
off Cal. It was like he could concentrate on his master to the exclusion of
everything else. Eventually, the little redhead finished.
"Can I touch him, Cal?
Please?"
Jack shivered and shut his eyes
tight. He'd been good. He'd been so good. His master would never let that
happen to a good boy, being touched by a stranger. He'd been so good.
"Do you want to make him
come?"
Jack's eyes snapped open.
"Oh, yes. Can I? He's got
such a pretty cock. I want to suck him off." Those small, white hands were
already rubbing him. Jack wanted to be sick even as he grew hard. Traitorous
body!
"Yes, you may. Turn him a
little so I can see his cock in your mouth."
Jack balled his fists and shut
his eyes tight.
"Don't worry, darling. I
won't hurt you." Blue eyes slitted open to meet Kyp's green ones.
"You'll love this. And you'll love me. Trust me." A few tentative
licks and then he was being sucked between those pink lips, swallowed into the
back of that pretty throat. It felt so good. He wanted to thrust into that
welcoming heat, but the hands on his hips held him steady and he was afraid of
offending his master's friend. Behind him, he felt Cal approach. Big hands
appeared on his hips, threading through Kyp's.
"Hold back, little
one," Cal lisped in his ear. "Don't come until I tell you to. You're
being so good." Jack moaned softly, letting his head fall back into the
crook of his master's neck, taking solace in the larger man's strength.
"It's hard, isn't it, pet? Kyp has such a delightful mouth." Another
moan greeted that. "Watch." Jack barely moved his head, slitting his
eyes open. His master wrapped his fingers in the back of Kyp's mouth and fucked
his face onto Jack's shaft. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
Very softly. "Yes,
Master."
"Would you like to come, pet?"
"Yes, please, Master."
Pulling Kyp's head back to the
tip, he allowed the young man to suckle and jerked his boy off into those pink
lips. "Go ahead."
Jack came with a little, low cry,
more a mewling groan than anything else. He tried to thrust forward into that
beautiful mouth, but his hips were in steel grips. It reminded him of Rose's
lips, when he'd come in her mouth the first time in the back of the car. Rose.
It all came crashing down.
Biting his lips, he feigned
languor. His felt his body laid back on a fainting couch and after a smacking
noise, which could have been a kiss, Kyp left. He slit his eyes in time to see
Cal bearing down on him. "Pet?" He jerked away from the fingers in
his hair.
Cal sighed. "What is
it?"
"Rose," he croaked,
squeezing his eyes shut hard against the tears.
The pain seared through his
cheek, the force of the blow knocking him to the ground. He was up in a second,
fists flying, but Cal just knocked him down again. This time he kept Jack down
with a foot to the chest.
"You know, I don't get you,
boy. Things are getting wonderful, just great for you. Why destroy it? Or do
you crave the punishment? Is that it? Do you want pain? Do you want to be
violated?"
"No!"
"I think you do. You
wouldn't act up if you didn't want it. Up!" He stepped back and pointed to
the bed.
"Fuck you!"
Cal sighed and rang the bell.
Before Jack could fully struggle to his feet, the manservant appeared.
"Sam, put the boy on the bed. Chain him down on his chest."
Jack found himself pressed hard
into the down comforter, his wrists and ankles manacled to the four posts.
"Sam," he heard Cal's
voice behind him, "why don't you lay out his back with this." Cal
knelt beside his head, speaking softly. "It's a birch cane. It will sting
and you'll bleed. Sam is very good with it." He gently petted the blond
hair. "This isn't a punishment, pet. It's a cleansing. The pain will make
the memories go away. When he's done, you won't be able to think of anything
other than breathing."
"No," Jack moaned
pitifully.
"I'm your master. I know
what's best for you. Sam, lay out his back." Cal stood back and crossed
his arms as the beating began. For a long time, Jack didn't scream. He just
stared bloody murder at his captor. Cal stared back until Jack's eyes glazed
over. His mouth slackened and suddenly, he screamed. Cal let him scream for a
long time, until he passed out.
Jack woke to more pain, this time
a towel swathing his back. "Master?"
"I'm here, pet. How do you
feel?"
"Sore...but calm."
"Good. I told you it would
help. You must always trust your master." A hand appeared in front of
Jack's face and he kissed it without hesitation. "Very good, pet."
His wrists were released and a soft linen shirt was slipped over his head.
Gently, he was gathered into Cal's arms. "Now, thank me." He kissed
Cal's lush lips as though he were a lover. "Very, very good, pet. Now, to
sleep with you. Kyp will bring by clothes tomorrow and then we will go to the
opera. You have a big day ahead of you." Jack had fallen asleep even before
Cal quite finished talking.
Kyp appeared again the next
afternoon. After a morning of lolling about in bed, drowsing on and off, Jack
was in as good a mood as could possibly be achieved. Cal had gone out after
feeding him breakfast. Kyp came bouncing in with all the enthusiasm of a rubber
ball.
"How are we today,
Beauty?" Jack only smiled back. "You can talk to me if Cal isn't
around...respectfully, of course."
"I'm all right."
"Good. Good." He pursed
his lips. "We're going to have to work on your voice. You're going to be
so pretty. First, let's get you dressed and walking." Unwrapping some
packages, he pulled out a red velvet corset and black garter belt with
stockings. "Ready?"
"Those are women's
clothes."
"Yes, they are. You're going
to the opera tonight...as Cal's date. Have you ever been to the opera
before?"
Feeling shaky, Jack stared down
at the clothes being laid out on the bed. "I won't do it."
"Now, Beauty." Kyp
cupped his face tenderly. "You've done this before, haven't you?"
"No."
"No?" Kyp shoved
everything aside and plopped down next to the trembling young man. "Tell
me."
"Tell you what?"
"How did Cal seduce
you?"
"He didn't seduce me. He
threatened me." Kyp gasped, but Jack wouldn't let it go so soon. "He
saved my life, so he says he owns me now. Oh, God, a week ago I had a girl,
Kyp. I had everything. I...I...the ship went down and Cal fished me out. Now
I'm just a thing!" Curling up on his side, Jack tried to get his breathing
under control.
Kyp curled up opposite him, carefully
non-aggressive. "What happened to the girl?"
"She died."
Tenderly, he ran his fingers
through Jack’s hair. "So did Cal's fiancée. Perhaps you two
together..."
"Same girl."
"What?"
"Same girl. She left him for
me."
"Oh." Kyp sat up again.
"I think I understand now. Who is going to come looking for you?"
"No one. I don't have
anyone."
"She left Cal for a poor
boy?"
Jack snorted and looked away.
"Sorry. It's true, though.
So, no one else wants you, but Cal is willing to take you in, dress you in
silks and satins, feed you gourmet food, sleep in a down and lace bed...I guess
I don't see the problem."
"To make me his faggot
whore!"
Suddenly, Kyp was standing again.
"I had no idea you felt that way. Well, then...I just..." There were
tears in his eyes as he turned away. "Of course, of course. We're
unnatural. Right. Of course."
"Oh, no, Kyp. I didn't mean
you." Without thinking about it, Jack found himself reaching out, dragging
the smaller man into his arms.
"What did you mean,
then?"
"All this...for me...I've
only ever been with women. Don't you understand? This isn't what I am."
The redhead cocked his head to
the side and smiled. "This is very much what you are, Beauty, but it's not
what you were taught to be." He traced pale skin with a lightly freckled
hand. "I've never seen anyone bow so quickly under Cal's will. I've never
seen anyone bloom so beautifully from simple pampering. Oh, you've got a long
way to go, but you're going to be absolutely breathtaking when he’s done. Isn't
that what you really want, Beauty, to be stunning?"
"My name is Jack."
"Your name was Jack."
Standing again, he picked up the corset. "You ready?"
"I don't have a choice, do
I?"
"If you think about it, you
don’t really want a choice, but, no, you don't have one, either." Pushing
him forward, he slipped the corset around the young man's waist. "If it
makes you feel any better, you won't be wearing heels. Take it from a short
person. Heels are the absolute bane of existence."
"One white snowflake in a
sea of yellow snow."
"How crass." Turning
Beauty's head, Kyp kissed him soundly. "Now, be good. Take in a deep
breath and then let it all out." Beauty did, and as soon as it was gone,
Kyp pulled. Beauty screamed. "Shh. Everything's all right. It always feels
like this. Gives you new respect for women, doesn't it?"
"I can't breathe."
"That's normal. Take short
little breaths. Be demure. Dizzy?" He helped Beauty to lie back.
"I can't...can't...I can't
breathe."
"Shh. Stop trying so hard.
That's right. Just calm down. You're lucky you're so thin. I won't have to
tighten it much at all."
"Tighten it?"
"Shh. Shh," Kyp
soothed, softly stroking Beauty's hair. "It just hurts at first. You'll
get used to it. Soon you won't think twice about putting one of these on."
Beauty collapsed into a fetal position again, shaking hard. Kyp sighed and
slapped his ass. "That's not going to keep working. You're impossibly
beautiful, but I know a trick when I see one." Beauty's head snapped up.
"Don't go getting the idea that you can manipulate me."
"None of this is fair. I
used to be free."
"You were at the mercy of
the world, of the fates, of time; how much different is this?" Lifting a
foot, Kyp patiently clipped the nails. "You're going to love the way the
stockings feel. Other foot." Obediently, Beauty did so. "He's going
to introduce you to others tonight as Bella, his mistress. Most people know his
kinks, but he's got enough money to just be called eccentric."
"Has he ever taken you
out?"
"Many times."
"If you like him so much,
why aren't you going instead of me?"
"Cal and I don't quite click
that way. Anyway, I've got a situation right now. My uncle is out of town,
which is why I have time to spend with you." He grinned. "He's not
really my uncle, of course, but they never are." Rolling up a stocking, he
slowly pulled it up Beauty's leg. "Feels wonderful, doesn't it?" He
fastened the belt and then attached the stocking, stopping to stroke it slowly
before putting on the second one. "You look absolutely ravishing."
"I can't do this, Kyp."
"Sure you can. Just take a
deep breath and remember that you're Bella now. You're a whole new person. Jack
is dead and you've just been born. Here, put these slippers on. I'm going to
teach you how to walk."
"Huh?"
"Disoriented?"
"A bit."
"Good. Let's keep you on
your toes for now. Come on. Stand up." Gently, he helped Beauty to his
feet and held his ground until the young man stopped swaying. "Women don't
stride. They step shorter, a little farther back on the foot to make up for the
extra weight up front. Step heel to toe. Now, just a bit of hips. Find your
balance all around instead of in the forward step. When you get nervous
tonight, just think about this. Concentrate on this like you would
breathing."
"Still can't breathe."
"You're doing
wonderfully." Slowly, they paced the room, Kyp leading slowly. "Now,
step back onto the ball of your foot."
"This is strange."
"Of course it is, silly.
You're not a man anymore. And don't you dare crumple on me. I'm not putting up
with it anymore." The steel in Kyp's voice kept Beauty upright. He had no
doubt that Kyp could and would have him just as thoroughly whipped as his
master had the night before. "Now, sit here. Legs together, knee to knee,
ankle to ankle, just bent to the side."
"You do this
voluntarily?"
Kyp laughed at that, but didn’t
reply. "Now, I'll do your makeup and hair and then we'll put on the
dress." Armed with an ivory-handled brush, he slowly started work on the
blond locks that had grown soft again. "Let's work on your voice."
"No, please..."
"Do you want everyone to
realize that you're a man?"
"I thought you said that
they knew Cal's perversions."
"Certainly, but no one wants
them pushed in anyone's face. Repeat after me," he assumed a breathy
whisper, just a little sweeter than his own voice, but no higher. "The hart,
he loves the high wood. The hare, she loves the hill. The knight, he loves his
bright sword. The lady loves her will." Over and over they repeated it,
practicing until Beauty could recite it from memory in his new voice, until he
said everything in his new voice. He noticed that it made it easier for him to
breathe. "Look in the mirror, Beauty." There was a girl staring back
at him, not even a woman, but a fresh, young girl. Curls settled around his
ears and chin, augmented by fake hair that Kyp had brought with him. Lips
painted red in a bow, cheekbones high and rosy, neck long and supple. He forgot
himself.
"Stunning, isn't it?"
Kyp whispered. Beauty could only nod.
"He should wear red."
Jack jumped at Cal's voice.
"You don't want him to be
called a whore on his first night out," Kyp soothed, his voice melting
over the consonants. "I've brought blue. Come, Beauty, it's almost time to
go out."
Oh-so-much more swiftly than the
rest of it, he was pulled into the dress. His master was here now. Everything
was going to be all right. His master always knew what was best. Inside,
somewhere, he was screaming, but he squelched it.
With a barely suppressed smirk,
Cal draped a fur over his shoulders. "Are you ready, then?"
"Yes, Master."
"Outside of these walls, you
will refer to me as Mr. Hockley."
"Yes, Master."
"Kyp, you're welcome to
stay. I'm sure that we can use your help when we get back."
"Be glad to. I'll just read
until you return...and find something to eat. I'm starving." Scampering
off, he flashed Beauty one last smile. "You'll be wonderful tonight. Just
keep your mouth shut."
Leading Jack out the door, Cal
leaned close to his ear. "That's wonderful advice." Jack nodded in
reply.
Outside, the breeze swirled about
his ankles, reminding him of the impending evening of horrors. Concentrating on
walking, he managed to ignore the smirking footman who helped him into the
carriage.
"How are you feeling
today?" Cal asked once they were settled.
"I'm a little dizzy, but
I'll survive, Mr. Hockley."
"Good. Did you enjoy your
afternoon with Kyp?"
"I always enjoy spending
time with Kyp, Mr. Hockley."
"Wonderful. We'll have to
arrange some more for you, then. Have you ever been to the opera before?"
Jack shook his head. "Rigoletto is the story of a jester who is cursed by
a nobleman named Montrone. He declares that Rigoletto will lose that thing
which is dearest to his heart. Having come into disfavor with the local
aristocracy, he is the target of their ire. They convince the Duke of Mantua to
seduce his supposed mistress. It is actually his daughter. The two fall in
love. Later, some people attempt to kidnap Gilda, Rigoletto's daughter. They
blindfold Rigoletto and trick him into helping them succeed, and then they
carry Gilda away to the Duke's bedroom. Rigoletto discovers the deception and
vows to avenge his daughter's honor. He hires an assassin to kill the Duke, but
the assassin is paid off. He agrees to let the Duke live if another body can be
found. Gilda volunteers. Thus Rigoletto kills his own daughter and the curse is
fulfilled."
"Do you intend to educate me
as well, Mr. Hockley?"
"A body is a fragile thing,
pet. A beautiful mind will last long into our old age."
Suddenly, all the air was gone.
His master wanted him forever. Cal wanted to make him a slave forever. In. Out.
Breathe slowly. Breathe shallow.
"We're here. Try to act like
a lady."
The steps at the front of the Met
were the worst, as he tried to emulate the other ladies climbing them. Again he
was able to ignore the snide grins flashed in his direction because of his
preoccupation. Cal held his head higher, if that was possible, confidence
radiating through his skin.
Cal took him straight to their
box, content to simply be seen rather than mingle. Jack was grateful. The opera
was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. Indeed, if this was
culture, was Cal’s price so very high? Seeing this would have been impossible
for him as a simple street waif. Now he was beautiful. But Jack wasn't dead,
couldn't be dead, and he knew that. A little strangled, he clapped when Cal
did, stood slowly, took the larger man's arm, and then walked down the steps.
Everything became mechanical. He could do this. He could do it well, and that
surprised him. There was, in him, the capacity to make Cal very happy. And Cal
had promised to reward him richly for such a thing.
And then there was Jack...
"Did you enjoy the
opera?"
"It was beautiful."
"You looked wonderful
tonight. Blue suits you. Kyp was right." He smiled. "Would you like
to go again?"
"Very much."
"Then come over here and
thank me."
Suddenly, Jack found himself in
Cal's arms, such big arms. Illness and near death had left little of what had
been the sturdy boy. He could only admire Cal's strength. A warm hand pushed up
his dress, stroking his thigh. They kissed for a long time.
"I will take you tonight,
make you mine. You'll wear my mark and no one else will ever touch you without
my permission again."
Beauty nodded. Jack screamed.
If Cal could see the inner
torment, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he pulled the boy into his lap and
cuddled him close, liberally coating him with affection. Such warm affection.
Stepping out of the carriage,
Jack grabbed back control. He bolted, hiking up his skirt so he could run. Even
before he had taken two steps he was out of breath, the damned corset wreaking
havoc on his lungs. Before he had taken ten, Cal tackled him to the dirt.
Flipping him over, Cal pinned his struggling hands and kicking legs easily.
"You've ruined your
dress," was all he said. Then he knocked Jack out with the back of his
hand.
*****
Kyp shook his head disdainfully.
"It shouldn't have come to this."
"What would you
suggest?"
The redhead only shook his head.
In front of them, Jack was chained to the wall on his knees. A manacle
encircled his throat, pulling him upright, his hands were free, but his ankles
were chained a foot off the ground, putting all his weight on his knees. Cal
used a bucket of water to wake the aggravating child.
"Pet?" There was only a
groan in response. Cal stepped forward until his crotch was pressed tight
against Jack's face. "Are you sorry, Pet?"
"Hurts."
"That wasn't the question.
Are you sorry? Show me how sorry you are. Show me how much you want me."
Jack looked away and moaned, his
palms scrabbling against the wall for purchase, trying to hold himself upright.
"We'll see how you feel in
the morning." Turning on his heel, he led Kyp out into the hall, slamming
the thick door behind them. "Spend the night?"
"Sounds delightful."
Hooking his arm through the other man's, he smiled sweetly. "You know that
I love you, don't you?"
"I know."
"Mr. Barrington is only the
bread and butter." Sighing sadly. "I wish all the time that we
clicked better."
"My pet will be good for us
as soon as I gentle him. You like him, don't you?"
"He has a quick mind and
he's very beautiful. I like teaching him. I suppose I never viewed what I do as
a learnable skill." He chuckled. "Imagine me teaching classes. Now,
today, students, we will learn all about spanking." Giggling, he ran ahead
to the bedroom.
Entering, Cal found him already
laid out like a banquet. "Anxious?"
Stroking himself, he whispered,
"It's been a long time." Then he spread his legs. Cal very slowly
stripped out of his suit and joined him on the bed.
Morning found them wrapped around
one another, murmuring softly.
"You're sure."
"Of course I am, silly.
You've nearly got him. This had to happen. He had to know there was no escape.
After this, he will be much more docile. I think he'll be ready to suck you off
this morning."
"I'm starting to think it's
all a lost cause."
"Nonsense. Worthwhile things
are rarely easy. That little beauty will make you very happy soon. Don't
abandon him yet. If you let him go at this point, I couldn't guarantee he
wouldn't come running back anyway, and you know how annoying you would find
that. Then he'd feel like he could come and go as he pleased. You understand
the problem."
"He'd be uncontrollable,
like you."
Kyp sniffed at his bed partner.
"I'm controllable. You just never wanted to put the money into me that I
require. Barrington couldn't care less how much I spend." Grinning, he
bounced a little. "Beauty will never be like that, not your Bella. He'll
fret over every penny, worrying what you'll think."
"Yes, he will be quite
something someday, won't he?"
"Yes, he will. Shall we go
down and see him? I think he'll be ready for you after a night on his
knees."
Cal smiled softly. "I hope
so."
Downstairs, Jack was suffocating.
No longer able to hold himself up, all of his weight fell on the manacle around
his neck, pulling inexorably on his windpipe.
"Pet? Can you hear me,
Pet?" Cal stepped close enough to prop Beauty's shoulders up with his
thighs. "Pet? Are you ready to apologize?" Tattered hands spidered up
his thighs, pulled loose the tie to his sleep pants and pushed them down.
"Go ahead, pet. I'm waiting." Dry lips kissed softly, widening to
encompass. Cal pushed him back. "That's enough." Lifting Pet's chin,
he kissed the boy thoroughly. "Sam, release him and take him upstairs to
the bath. See that his bruises are cleaned." Cal waited until Pet's neck
was released before leaving with Kyp. "Stay for a while?"
"Of course. You'd better
bandage him yourself. He's only going to trust you. I'll wait for you two in
the bedroom."
Cal nodded and headed to the
bathroom. Pet rested in the tub, unconscious again. He dismissed Sam and knelt
down, tenderly washing away the blood. Bloody knees were only the beginning.
His palms had taken the worst brunt of it, scrabbling against the wall to hold
himself up. As he was being dried and bandaged, he came around.
"Master?"
"I'm here, Pet."
"I'm sorry, Master. I'm so
sorry."
"Shh." Tenderly, he
kissed Beauty’s forehead. "Everything will be all right. You just have to
trust me. I will always protect you."
"Yes, Master."
Cal lifted Beauty into his arms
and was rewarded with a whispery kiss. Inside the bedroom, Kyp was snuggled
deep in the bed. He accepted Beauty into his arms with a soft coo.
"Shh, baby, everything is going
to be all right," he whispered. Beauty whimpered into his neck. "We
love you. You know that, Beauty, right?" Kyp was thoroughly kissed in
reply. "Get down here, Cal. Beauty wants to kiss you, too."
"Does he really?"
Laying down on the other side, he easily rolled Beauty into his arms.
Whimpering kisses peppered his lips. "Calm down, little one. You'll prove
how much you love me by obeying me every day. Rest now so I can properly ravish
you later." With another lavish kiss, Pet snuggled down and drowsed off.
"He'll have to be marked tonight. Do you think he's ready?"
"I hope so. I designed
something just for you." Kyp laced his fingers through the ones Cal had
left resting on Beauty's hip. "You'll love it—the angel of death."
"How appropriate. You think
he'll be good from now on?"
"I think he'll keep you on
your toes, but you'll be pleased." Tenderly, he stroked Pet’s flank.
"He's such a beauty." Snuggling down, Kyp, too, drifted off, leaving
Cal to watch silent vigil over the two of them.
Hours later, they woke to a
dinner of rich stew and bread. Beauty sat back, content to be pampered, as Kyp
fed him bit by bit. He drank beer from Cal's glass.
"Now, Beauty." Kyp sat
up and straddled him. "You're going to be marked tonight. It'll hurt, but
you're not being punished. You know that, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"It's an honor to be marked
by your master."
"Yes, sir."
Kyp smiled and sat back, letting
Sam close in. "Now, just hold still."
"Where's my master?"
Beauty looked around frantically. Suddenly, Cal was there, stroking his hair,
baring his neck, holding him still. No matter how much it must have hurt, Pet
held very still, his face buried in his master's lap, such a good boy. A small
tattoo below and behind the left ear and another one, larger, on his left ass cheek.
"You're beautiful," Cal
whispered to him. "You're so beautiful. You trust me, don't you?"
"Yes, Master."
"I'm going to take you
tonight. You want that, don't you?"
The grin he got back bordered on
feral. "Yes, Master."
"Everyone else out." With
a long, wet kiss to Kyp. "You can watch later."
"I'm counting on it."
He passed that kiss on to Pet. "I'll be back, darling. Show him how much
you love him." Then he backed out and locked the door.
*****
Jack watched with trepidation,
but Beauty ignored him. He was alone with his master now, and that was what was
important. He squashed Jack into a deep closet in his brain, shut the door, and
swallowed the key. Cal crawled on top of him, smothering him in passionate
kisses.
"Spread your legs."
Beauty did it with ease, lifting
his knees to rub against Cal’s flanks, spreading his heels wide, flat-footed on
the bed.
"You're so very good."
Beauty purred.
Two months later, Pet strode
confidently down the street next to Kyp. He had been told he wasn't required to
wear a dress unless he was Cal's date. However, he found that Kyp had been
right. He rather enjoyed them. Not the corsets, of course. He shuddered just
thinking about them, but the silk and satins. They were much finer than the
things that men wore.
And Kyp was pure delight. The
young man had become his closest friend, as well as mentor. The lessons
continued daily. Today Kyp was intent on teaching him how to spend loads of
money on jewels. Bella knew he would bypass the chance when it came in favor of
watching Kyp spend Barrington's money. Later, they planned to double-team the
old man into a heart attack.
"Come on! There's Christmas
shopping to do!" He dragged a laughing Bella behind him. "What are
you going to get for Cal?"
"I don't know yet. What do you
get for the man who can have anything he wants?"
"A little leather outfit and
a bare ass?" Kyp whispered in his ear. Bella chuckled, but neglected to
reply. Kyp stopped to buy an apple. A hand grabbed his arm.
"What?" Bella asked,
spinning around.
"Jack?" The hood pulled
back to reveal the angelic face of his long-fevered dreams. Bella said nothing.
"Jack, it's me, Rose. You were dead. I swear you were dead.
But...but..." Slowly, Bella backed away. Out of the corner of his eye, he
could see Kyp watching him like a hawk. "Jack? Jack?" She tried to
throw her arms around him, but he pushed her away.
"Ma'am, you must be
mistaken. Jack Dawson died." Turning, he linked his arm through Kyp's and
pushed off through the crowd, intent on the flashy jewelry store they had
spoken of earlier.
The End.