At His Throat, a Promise (29 page)

“Thank you, Sir,” Ellis said for lack of anything better to say.

He wanted to be on his knees, to beg, to
demand
.

“Have you thought any more about a speciality?”

“Oh,” Ellis said, startled by the non sequitur. “I think I"d like to be a prosecuting attorney, Sir.”

William smiled broadly, and Ellis let himself bask in it, just for a moment. No harm could come from taking pride in making someone else proud, could it?

“I"m very pleased to hear you say that. I"d hoped—well, I think you will make Spire proud, Ellis.”

“Thank you very much, Sir,” Ellis whispered. He hadn"t thought at all of what his
city
would think.

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“You"re welcome. Now we"ll just have to find you someone with whom you connect both sexually and directionally. I"ll admit I had a few people in mind from the beginning, but now I have reason to really investigate the situation.”
You didn’t before?
Ellis wanted to ask. Had William not given any thought at all to Ellis"s future? Ellis didn"t believe the master was absentminded or thoughtless. There had to be a reason that he hadn"t pursued his duty in finding Ellis a master. Or maybe Ellis just wanted there to be a reason.

“The party is this Friday. Go ahead and tell Harte. I"m sure he"ll be thrilled. He"s been hinting that he"d like to go out, but I didn"t want to take him to the Lounge. It"s really not the place for young men such as yourselves.”

Ellis rose and William followed, taking Ellis"s wrist in his hand. “I hope you know that you can always come to me about anything. If you have something you need to talk about, I"m always here. I know I can be a bit distant. I don"t know if Harte"s told you, but I wasn"t raised in Spire, so I didn"t grow up with the notion of slavery. It"s… difficult, at times, to find a balance. But I am here, if you need me.”

I need you,
was Ellis"s immediate thought.

William was continuing. “I don"t like the way you"ve been pulling away. I understand not wanting to get attached, but there"s a limit to how distant you can make yourself without disappearing altogether. And Harte doesn"t understand. He"s really trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible. It"s hard for him, too, you know. To lose you.”

Ellis thanked the master and left, overwhelmed by a guilt that only just buried the loneliness.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

* * *

After a thorough search of the house for Harte, Ellis felt a little silly when he looked out his bedroom window to see the slave sitting outside by the pool.

He took the moment to watch Harte, feeling voyeuristic. He was reading one of William"s law textbooks, and there was a long, yellow legal pad beside him on which he"d jot notes from time to time. His legs were in the water and he was kicking idly. The sunlight was glinting off his hair; it was a beautiful day. From this angle, Harte could almost be mistaken for a girl. The slave sheath resembled a dress, especially the way it reached about mid-thigh at the moment. His golden hair was curling softly, almost too long. It reminded Ellis that he, himself, could use a cut.

Just then Harte tilted backward and looked up, right into Ellis"s window. Fighting the urge to pull back from view, Ellis waved a little. Harte"s smile split his face, even from the distance.

Making his way down to the pool, Ellis wondered what Harte would think about him finding a new master. Would Harte miss him? He certainly acted as though he liked Ellis, but that did seem to be Harte"s way. Ellis hadn"t met anyone that Harte didn"t love somehow.

“Hey!” Harte chimed, throwing aside the textbook with a vigour that would have had William frowning in that way of his.

“Hi.” Ellis sat, pulling his own sheath up a little so it wouldn"t dip into the water. Harte immediately tried to engage him in footsies, but Ellis wasn"t taking the bait.

“Everything okay?”

“I just talked to Sir about finding me a master.”

“Oh. Okay. So you"re not happy here?”

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It was so like what the master had said that Ellis had to wonder why two people who seemed to enjoy him so much didn"t just…

ask him to stay
.

“I"m
very
happy here, Harte. But this is your home, not mine.”

“How come?”

Ellis sighed. “How come what?”

“How come it"s not your home, too?”

“Harte, what are you talking about? Because I don"t live here.

Because Sir"s just my sponsor.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“I have to find a master to own me, you know that. Not only because it"s the best thing for my education and because I need to have a permanent situation, but because… ” Ellis paused as the thought formed itself.

“Because… ?”

“Because I need to be owned.”

Harte just nodded, and Ellis knew he understood better than anyone. “Master will find you the perfect man, I"m sure.” Harte had said that before, of course. Now, for the first time, Ellis wondered. Would he? Would he care enough to match Ellis up perfectly? Or would he just make a trade like William had initially done for Harte?

Or would he just… give him away to the first man who seemed interested?

No… from what Ellis knew of the master, he just wasn"t the thoughtless type. If he"d wanted to be rid of Ellis that badly, he would have done so a long time ago. The master was the sort to get things done—the only reason he
wouldn’t
get things done was because he didn"t want to.

“I"m… going to miss you. When you leave,” Harte said in a 250

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

small voice.

Ellis realised that, for as vocal and enthusiastic as Harte was, he didn"t really talk about his feelings much.

“I"ll miss you, too. But I"m certain that Sir will choose someone who will at least let us see each other.” Harte wormed a little closer so their thighs were touching. “I don"t want to just
see
you, though. I want to… be with you, and touch you, and sleep with you, and wake up with you.” He let his head fall onto Ellis"s shoulder, not even complaining about the boniness as he usually did.

“I know, Harte. But sometimes—”

“Sometimes we can"t have what we want, right?”

“Right.” There was no point in saying something just to say it.

There was a likelihood that the master William chose would never let Ellis see Harte again—they could be really far apart, the new master might not want to share, or he simply might not believe in letting slaves have friends. That was how Ellis"s previous master had been. The slaves were barely able to be friends with each other, and that was the way many masters seemed to prefer it.

There was no reason to believe that Ellis"s new master would be kind enough to allow Ellis to see Harte or William ever again.

“But it"s only three years, right?” Harte asked, searching out and gripping Ellis"s hand.

“What"s that?”

“If your new master doesn"t let you visit, it"s only three years until you"re free. Then you could come stay with us until I"m free.”

“Oh,” Ellis said. “Well… maybe.” The truth was, once Ellis was free, he would need to start his own life, his career. It wouldn"t make sense to return to William and pretend to be a slave for the six months or so until Harte was free, too.

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“I think Master would like that.”

“We"ll see. What will you do once you"re free?” Harte sighed softly and twined his leg around Ellis"s beneath the water. “I"ll stay here if Master will have me. I"d stay here forever, if he"d let me. But once I"m free, he won"t be able to tell me to keep quiet, and I don"t think he"d like that.” Harte laughed and looked up at Ellis with big eyes.

“Oh, I think he"d still tell you. You"d just get to decide about whether or not you listen. And if you want to stay, I think you"ll listen.”

“That"s a good point,” Harte said easily, not even fazed that he had just been insulted in a small way. “I think that even when I"m free, I"ll want to please Master, listen to him, do as he says. I hope he still tells me what to do.”

“That"s because you"re a perverted little submissive,” Ellis said, but he wrapped an arm around Harte"s shoulder to show him it wasn"t necessarily a bad thing.

“Yeah.” Harte turned and bit Ellis"s shoulder. “You are, too.”

“I don"t know—I sure liked fucking you.”

“You can fuck the most submissive guy and still be the second most submissive,” Harte said.

Ellis tried to wrap his head around that and ended up remembering what had brought him outside in the first place. “Sir says to tell you we"ll be going to a party on Friday.” Harte gasped and jerked sideways to look at Ellis. “The Cohens" Costume Gala?”

“Um, I don"t know for sure. Sir said he got the invitation but he"d decided not to go. And then I asked about when I"d know about a new master, and he said it would be a perfect place to make contacts.”

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“Oh, it is, it is! I begged him, but he said no! He
knows
I love to dress up and I
never
get to! Oh, this is going to be so great.” And then all at once his face fell. “But that means we might find you a master by this weekend!”

“If all goes according to plan,” Ellis said with a lightness he didn"t feel.

“Oh, I don"t want you to go!”

“Oh, hush.” Ellis knew there was no point in saying anything like,
so, don’t let me
, or
me, either
. It wouldn"t change anything.

“So, what sorts of costumes do people normally wear?” Harte grinned. “Oh, the masters don"t wear costumes. Only the slaves.”

“And what do slaves wear?”

“Whatever their masters want.”

* * *

It wasn"t until Friday morning that Ellis found out the types of things masters liked their slaves to wear. He"d figured it would be something revealing, but he had no idea
how
revealing.

Or how humiliating.

“I can"t wear something like this,” he whispered to Harte as they both stared at Harte"s torn-open package.

William had given them the large boxes at the breakfast table with instructions not to open them until after he left for work. He"d then proceeded to give a one-hour lecture on adversary procedure with the boxes sitting in the middle of the table. Ellis had been able to concentrate, but Harte had been reprimanded twice, unable to tear his eyes away from the simply wrapped gifts.

When William had finally left, dawdling a little, which was 253

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

unusual for him, Harte had grabbed his box and torn up the stairs, crying for Ellis to follow him. By the time Ellis made it up the stairs, Harte"s box was already open and he was staring within.

“Oh, my… ” he whispered, pulling out something white and silky.

Ellis"s mind immediately shot back to Harte saying the master had made him wear panties. Women"s panties. What Harte was holding looked an awful lot like panties.

As Ellis watched, Harte pulled out more and more items, things the like of which Ellis had never seen before in his life. In a few moments, the bed was strewn with stretchy things, silky things, long things,
shoes
… all were white. All were for women.

Harte wasn"t even going to be able to make it out the front door in that get-up. William wouldn"t let him. It was scandalous. Harte didn"t look concerned at all; he looked
thrilled
.

“Open yours!” he cried a moment later, forcing himself to look away from the bits and pieces that Ellis didn"t half understand.

“It had better be something different than what you got, or we"re going to have problems,” he muttered. He placed the box on the bed and opened.

Oh, his gift was different all right.

It was all
black
.

The pieces were the same, right down to the strappy stiletto heels.

Harte gave a little whimper and picked up the black lace underwear. “You are going to look so naughty in this!”

“I don"t want to look
naughty
,” he hissed, backing away from the bed. He remembered thinking, when they"d talked about Harte"s panty-wearing adventures, that wearing women"s clothing didn"t make him any less of a man.

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He knew now the error of his thoughts.

“No, Ellis, trust me, you do. And it"s not like we"ll be the only ones wearing stuff like this.”

“All the slaves wear women"s clothing?” he asked with hope in his voice.

“Um, no, but they all dress really slutty. Like fairies or cats or butterflies.”

“But those are
costumes
. This is just… lingerie!”

“I think you"ll have to shave your legs,” Harte said absurdly.

“These stockings will look stupid with your leg hair.”

“Shave my
legs?
Are you crazy? I… I don"t think I can… ”

“What"s this really about? It"s just for fun. For one night, you get to be something you"re not, and you"ll drive everyone crazy at the same time.”

“I don"t want to drive people crazy. That"s your thing. I think it"s… demeaning.”

Harte looked a little hurt, but Ellis didn"t have the mental fortitude to apologise.

“Well, you"d better not let Master hear you talk like that. If he thinks you don"t like your gift, he"ll be upset.”

“It"s not
my
gift,” Ellis snapped. “It"s his.”

“Whatever,” Harte said, rolling his eyes. “You"re being so dramatic. Just try it on, at least.”

“I wouldn"t even know where to start.”

“Then just watch me.”

Harte pushed Ellis onto the bed in a sitting position, collecting the garments on one side.

“Underwear goes on first, okay?” Harte pulled off his sheath and tossed it to the side. Ellis couldn"t help reacting to the sight of his tanned, lithe body. The white would look stunning on him.

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Ellis had absolutely no compunction with Harte wearing the clothes. Just himself.