A Master's Fidelity (Ganymede Quartet Book 2.5) (3 page)

“It would be a shame if he didn’t,” Dick remarked. “Since the rest of him is so handsome.”

At the thought of another slave touching Henry, Martin went numb. He heard everything at a remote distance, an annoying buzzing of flies. His hands shook with an angry tremor and he clenched them into fists and shoved them deep in his pockets. His jealousy was an unwelcome, unprecedented surprise.

Everyone was looking at Martin, wanting to know about Henry’s cock, and there was no good reason not to tell them. It was only polite to let them know what they might expect should Henry decide he wanted someone else’s mouth on his cock.

Martin cleared his throat. “Very nice,” he admitted. It was perfect, in fact, and it was
his
. He would go along with whatever Henry might want to do, but he wouldn’t like it. It would, in fact, break his heart.

The rest were still looking at him, waiting for more details, but Martin didn’t want to share. He would prefer to talk about anything else. He didn’t want to be swapped if it meant sharing Henry. He didn’t want any of his friends to know Henry the way he did.

The idea of having more partners for himself was interesting, a little enticing, but he’d already had so many different partners that having still more carried negligible emotional weight. It would be fun to have sex with his friends, nothing more. No other boy could have the slightest claim on him, after all. But the thought of Henry, his Henry, who had only ever been with him, fucking Tom’s mouth, or Stuart’s, and groaning with pleasure…oh, how he hated that idea! Martin had had experience enough to know that Henry was the one he wanted, but what if Henry discovered he liked some other boy’s mouth better? So many of the masters liked Stuart’s mouth, though in Martin’s opinion Stuart wasn’t particularly skilled; still, what if Henry wanted to try what his friends spoke so highly of? What if Henry decided he wanted to fuck one of the others?

Martin felt sick. He glanced over to see if Henry was needful of anything Martin might provide, but Henry was laughing with Mr. Briggs and Mr. Ross and seemed completely content. Martin excused himself and left the library for the quiet of the hall. He was bent over the water bubbler, eyes closed, taking deep swallows of cool water when Tom came up behind him, soft footsteps.

“Martin? Are you all right?”

Martin took a deep breath, still bent over the bubbler. He wanted to tell Tom everything, tell him how close he really was with Henry. He wanted to tell Tom he didn’t want to share his master with him or any of the others, that Henry was his and his alone. But he couldn’t say anything of the kind for fear that broadcasting his own inappropriate thoughts and insecurities would reveal too much of Henry, as well.

“I don’t like talking about Mr. Blackwell,” was all he felt comfortable saying.

“You’re very protective of him,” Tom said soothingly, rubbing his back. “He’s lucky to have you.”

There was a strange scene in the cloakroom at the end of the day, Sam abandoning his post to deliver a passionate kiss to his best friend Ray, which put the entire room into a panic. It would have been a problem if they’d been seen by any teachers, and it wasn’t the sort of risk any of them would normally take, so for meek little Sam to do something so bold was unsettling. Kissing without the sanction of masters was strictly forbidden, and there was no question that Mr. Pettibone would gleefully punish Sam for such a transgression.

Ray stood with his hand to his mouth staring at Sam, his master’s coat hanging from his hand and trailing on the floor. Sam smiled and gave a little shrug and returned to his post as if nothing unusual had taken place.

In the moments before their masters came for their coats, all of the slaves had urgent questions about the kiss, but Sam was not forthcoming about his motive or reason. He said it was just something he felt like doing, but offered no further explanation, instead wishing them all a Merry Christmas. And then their masters came into the cloakroom, rowdy and talkative, and there was no more time for questions.

Henry and Martin went home to a new
Pals
and thus a new
Drake’s Progress
, and sharing the story and then some particularly generous sexual attention from Henry went a long way toward improving Martin’s mood. However, he couldn’t sleep for worrying, and as he lay curled at Henry’s side, he tried not to think about how beautiful Tom was, how he had seen Henry looking at Tom with a sort of resentful lust. Would Henry want to take the opportunity to use Tom? He knew that Mr. Caldwell was very generous with Tom’s body. If Tom were to suck Henry’s cock, he’d surely appreciate its superior qualities and be jealous of Martin. Martin didn’t know if he could even bear to stay friends with Tom if Tom came to know Henry in that way.

Restless and irritable, he squirmed to get comfortable and roused Henry, who made a
Hmm?
sound and blinked in confusion. Martin settled guiltily and petted Henry’s chest until he was sleeping again, breathing easy. He shouldn’t be like this, so fiercely possessive and unreasonable. He’d never been this way about any other boy, not even the boys he’d most loved at Ganymede. But those boys had been like him, professionally promiscuous, and there were never any expectations of fidelity. Henry was different. Henry could belong to Martin completely, if he wanted to, if only he would make that choice.

Martin had known boys at Ganymede who had been possessive of their friends’ bodies, prone to jealous spats and tears, but that had never been his way, so these forceful feelings of ownership came as a shock. Until his lunchtime realization that his friends might serve Henry, and his subsequent desperate fury at the prospect, Martin had not even been aware he had the capacity to want a boy all to himself. It was wrong, all wrong. He might as well be untrained if he was going to behave like this. But as wrong as it was, he wouldn’t fault his feelings. The connection he shared with Henry deserved to be honored and protected. They belonged to each other—they’d both said the words—and it meant a great deal more than sex to Martin.

Martin knew full well that a slave could never ask for a master’s fidelity, and a
good
slave wouldn’t think of asking for it in the first place, but he hoped Henry would be sentimental, that he would recognize that it was Martin who had first shown him every form of pleasure and pledge his allegiance accordingly. Henry might possibly do this of his own volition, but Martin certainly couldn’t ask it of him.

Martin lay awake worrying until the wee hours. Henry had some amorous dream that made him hard, made him paw Martin greedily and whimper. Martin arced into his touch and reached for his stiff prick, but Henry only sighed and slipped further into sleep, and it seemed imprudent, even selfish, to consider waking Henry in search of the reassurance sex might provide. Martin made himself relax, taking deep breaths, and drew Henry close. Whatever changes might come, tonight Henry was here with him and no one else, and he would take comfort from that. He lay awake petting Henry’s head and shoulders perhaps another hour, finally falling into an exhausted sleep near dawn.

At Christmas, it was reassuring that Henry did not want to swap with his cousins. Jesse Wilton and Eli Carmichael were both handsome, as were their slaves, and again Martin felt he would have no compunction about servicing any of the others, master or slave, if Henry wanted such a thing to happen. Still, he hated the idea of either Mr. Wilton’s Russ or Mr. Carmichael’s Owen touching Henry, tasting him, putting their hands on his skin. It was a dirty, sick secret, this crazed possessiveness; he wasn’t really a Superior boy at all, he was substandard.

He had enjoyed meeting a Ganymede boy again, though, even if he didn’t want to share Henry with him. Russ had told him some things about Lawton parties that made Martin wish they went to that school instead, but Lawton was an academically demanding place and Henry’s wasn’t really the sort of intelligence that made for impressive test results.

The cousins were all charming people, and their slaves were likewise welcoming. Clearly, the reunion with his uncle had been the high point of the party for Henry, but for Martin Jesse Wilton had proven most memorable of all Henry’s extended family. Mr. Wilton was shockingly affectionate and demonstrative with Russ, seemingly without concern for how his performance might be received, and Martin thought his behavior delightfully scandalous. However, as interesting as he found Mr. Wilton’s relation with Russ, he hoped Henry would not take cues from his cousin in this regard. Martin did not think Henry had the personality to carry off such flagrant behavior; it suited him better to be circumspect.

What did appeal, however, was Mr. Wilton’s proposal that Henry watch him receive oral pleasure from Russ, and the suggestion that he would like to watch Martin serve Henry, as well. It was only the idea of Henry having physical contact with other boys that Martin didn’t like; he was enthusiastic about the prospect of voyeuristic games, and hoped Henry might be given another opportunity to play in the future. Henry had been stunned by his cousin’s offer, but Martin was quite sure he had been curious—and tempted—as well.

As the New Year drew closer, Martin started to worry about the potential for jealousy on Henry’s part. What if Henry asked him to perform at the party but then regretted his choice? Though it made him feel disloyal to think so, Martin wasn’t sure he could count upon Henry to be fair if he made decisions that he later came to regret. Considering how unhappy Henry had been to learn about some of the sex that Martin had had before they even met, Martin did not trust Henry to be reasonable about sex that he might have with other partners now, even at Henry’s behest.

Saturday, two days before Mr. Ross’ party, following a late lunch, they lay curled together in Henry’s bed and Martin made a halting attempt to ask Henry what he intended to do.

“Henry?”

“Hmm?” Henry nuzzled Martin’s neck and drew him close, stroking his back and wriggling closer still.

“Are you looking forward to Mr. Ross’ party?” Martin tried to make his voice sound light and without care, but he thought he came off a little constricted, a little nervous.

“What? Oh, sure.” Henry kissed Martin’s throat and pushed on his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. “I haven’t been to a party in awhile,” he noted. He ran his hands up and down Martin’s sides and Martin stretched out long, arms overhead and toes pointed, to better enjoy the contact.

“Why is that?”

“Why what?” Henry bent and flicked at Martin’s nipple with his tongue, and each lick sent a sizzling bolt of electricity to Martin’s cock.

“Oh! Why haven’t you been to a party?”

“I guess they didn’t think I’d want to come,” Henry said. “But I’m excited to go to this one.” He bent his head and licked the other nipple and reached down between Martin’s legs to take tender hold of his prick.

God, his hand felt so good. It was just a hand, so why did it feel so amazing? “Wh-why is that? Why are you excited?” Was it because he wanted to swap?

“I’ve always liked the idea of starting fresh at the New Year,” Henry said with a shrug. “It’ll be nice to spend it with friends.” He sat on his heels with his hard cock jutting up and Martin reached out to pet it, slick and silky. “Do you want to suck me?” Henry asked hopefully. “Because I want to suck you.”

“Yes,” Martin said firmly. “I definitely want that.”

Henry lay down on his side and Martin got into position beside him. The smell of Henry’s wet cock made Martin hard, made his mouth water. He began to shiver and couldn’t stop shaking, like he was some inexperienced child who’d never sucked a cock before. Even when he’d
been
an inexperienced child, he didn’t think he’d ever felt this out of control about the smell of another boy, about any other boy’s body. He’d been crazy about Henry from the moment he first saw him, and it didn’t seem to ever let up.

Taking into account his thorough training, Martin was a little embarrassed by his giddy eagerness, but Henry didn’t judge. Henry didn’t know anything could be different. Henry didn’t understand how remarkable this was, the desperate way Martin wanted him. Henry wanted him, too, that much was plain, but Henry didn’t have anyone to compare to. If Henry was curious, if he let another slave suck his cock, he could very possibly come to prefer another boy’s service over Martin’s, and then where would Martin be?