At His Throat, a Promise (43 page)

The offer was foolish, anyway. Everyone knew that you had to establish yourself as a professional before you would be considered for slave ownership. Not just anyone could do it, after all. Jack Archer was the youngest master Ellis had ever heard of by far—and he was a perfect example of why younger people should leave mastering to experts like Master. The only way Jack Archer could have made a claim so early was if he had written permission 370

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due to extenuating circumstances. It was an area of law he"d learned while with Master; such permission was exceedingly rare.

“You didn"t seduce Fen, did you?”

Ellis shook his head. Master had just gotten off the phone with Fen for the third time that week. Now he"d only been asking permission to actually share Ellis. Master usually had no compunction about sharing Ellis with his regular work friends—

men who weren"t masters, just… appreciative. There was no real reason for Master to refuse. Ellis hoped he had, though. Fen was dangerous.

“Have you slept with him?”

Again, he shook his head, feeling the guilt from a long-ago transgression rise up in his mind. He"d been
punished
for that!

Still, the voice in the back of his mind, sounding annoyingly like Maya, reminded him that, no, he really hadn"t.

Master got Ellis"s confession from him eventually. Master could be very persuasive.

Master could be very vindictive.

Punishments were retroactive.

Master left marks.

* * *

“You have an hour,” Master said. He squeezed Ellis"s upper arm and looked into his eyes. Ellis looked back easily, though he focused on Master"s chin. He couldn"t remember what colour Master"s eyes were.

They were in one of the guest rooms. Ellis had been there three times before.

Huge cock. Loves to slap.

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Wanted Ellis to come. Punished him when he couldn’t.

Demanded Ellis clean his cock after it had been inside Ellis.

Ellis hadn’t blushed.

The first thing Fen did was throw his arms around Ellis and squeeze him so tightly Ellis felt his insides creak.

“Guess who my boss is?”

Ellis tried to shrug, but he was pinned.

“William Godard.”

He didn"t recognise that name.

“
William
.”

Something inside him was touched with a hot poker. Ellis whimpered and Fen let him go. He frowned and tried to focus his mind, but there was something missing.

“I know you"re scared, Ellis. I know. It"s hard and scary and it feels good to be a good boy, but you were one before! William, he said you were the best slave he"d ever had. Yeah, even better than Harte, who he talks about all the time. You were
good
, obedient and sweet and responsive and affectionate… Where did you go?

Wouldn"t William want to know you were okay? I had to lie… to tell him that you were fine because I couldn"t bear the thought of telling him what you really were. But as soon as I said
fine
, he knew something was up. Because you always said you were fine when you weren"t. That"s what he said. He said he could always see right through you.”

Ellis wanted to stop him, wanted to demand that he explain himself. He had no idea what Fen was talking about. He only said he was fine when he
was.
He didn"t lie. Lying was for bad slaves.

Like Fen. Like Harte.

But then… William loved Harte. Right? Why would a master love a bad slave?

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Master said that bad slaves never got loved. That was why…

Ellis shivered. The rest of the thought wouldn"t come.

“Is he… ” Ellis coughed and cleared his throat. His voice was scratchy and low, unrecognisable. “Is he okay?”

“Of course. He"s all right. He"s tough, that one. Never lets anyone in. Except Harte, of course. And you. You remember, don"t you? He said to remind you that you"re beautiful. In case you forgot. And that you"re good. In case you couldn"t remember what that was. And not to—”

Break.

“—Break.”

Ellis broke down for the first time since the master candidate interviews. He crumpled into himself and lost everything. Fen was there, holding him, telling him about William and Harte and how William looked and how Ellis was
so good
, and it shouldn"t have meant anything coming from Fen because he was barely more than slave himself, and he didn"t know anything about true submission, and Ellis
did
…

“Baby, baby, it"s okay,” Fen was whispering. He"d kept up a steady stream of words like that while Ellis cried and sobbed and wailed into the pillows on the bed where he"d been used like garbage and told that he was
good
and he was
bad
, and he didn"t understand anything anymore.

“Can I tell William something for you?”

Ellis looked at the clock. The hour was almost up. He smiled softly at Fen and went into the bathroom for a moment. Splashing cold water on his face, Ellis thought about what it all really meant.

Nothing. Master thought he was good. William wasn"t
here
. He and Harte were happy. Ellis had three more years until he could be like Fen.

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He wasn"t good enough. Not yet. But almost. Maybe William had different ways of doing things, but that didn"t mean they were better.

He rubbed at the salt stains on his cheeks until his face was a little red, but no more than usual when he left the bedroom after servicing one of Master"s friends.

When he came back into the bedroom, Fen was waiting for him.

“Ellis, is there a message you want me to give William?” Ellis thought. “Yes. Tell him I"m fine. No—tell him I"m okay.

Thank you, sir.”

And Ellis left the room.

* * *

It felt strange to sleep in. Every single Sunday, he went through the same thing. Not having any demands on him, not having any instructions made him feel uncomfortably unrestrained. Like he was floating around until Master brought him back.

Ever since Fen had come to see him, Ellis had felt out of sorts.

He"d even told Master what Fen had said in an attempt to get his feelings back under control. He"d endured what was quite possibly the worst punishment to date. It had taken three weeks for all of the bruising on his face and body to go down. There were cuts from Master"s rings that scarred, and sometimes he"d touch them, especially the one on his cheekbone, to remind himself that he"d done the right thing.

Ellis suspected that Master had said something to William about the information Fen had brought because the next week, Jin had tried to talk to him about William and Harte. She hadn"t tried 374

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ever since he"d first become silent and made it known to all that he wouldn"t speak unless to the Master. She pressured him for several days over the course of his meals, asking for messages, anything to pass on to William. Telling him things about William and Harte that Ellis really didn"t want to hear. Like how Harte was having trouble sleeping and William was losing weight.

Why tell him? There was nothing he could do about it. It had nothing to do with him. There was just no point. He"d tried to stop going to meals, but that had gotten back to Master, and Master hadn"t liked that very much at all. He tried to get it out of Ellis about why he didn"t want to eat, and he almost told Master that Jin was pestering him about his old life. For some reason, even though it hurt, even though it made him grip his elbows behind his back tightly enough that they dripped blood onto the floor, he had said nothing. It was his only secret.

Ellis finally let his eyes open. He stared at Fen"s old bed. Even though the other slave had been free for over a month, Master hadn"t replaced him. Yesterday, one of the servants had come in to change the sheets. Ellis figured that meant they"d get a new arrival.

Maybe today. Master wouldn"t be there most of the day, so it was a good time to initiate a new member into the household.

Fen had looked good, Ellis mused. More tanned, somehow, even though it probably wasn"t possible. His hard beauty had been tempered by freedom, and Ellis liked it. But Fen had seemed angry with him. Or maybe disappointed. It was hard for him to read the emotions of anyone besides Master these days. He even had trouble understanding his own feelings.

The door to the room opened, and Michaela walked in. Master hated when the girls didn"t knock, but apparently it didn"t matter to them.

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“We have a new arrival,” she said in her high voice, full of old cruelty and new ideas.

She pushed a small body into the room, and Ellis sat up so fast his vision went grey.

“Harte?”

Michaela laughed loudly and the boy looked confused. “No, not your precious Harte, stupid boy. This is Caleb.”
No, that was Harte!
How did Michaela know about Harte, anyway?

“You"re going to be really lonely, rooming with this one,” Michaela was saying to the new slave. “It"s going to be a long…

what, Ellis? Two and half years?” She snickered. “Good luck.” She left, closing the door behind her.

Ellis stared at the slave called Caleb. He was slim and short with very light blond hair that was longer than Ellis was used to.

But his eyes.

They were brown.

“I thought you were… ” Ellis coughed and lay back down. It didn"t matter.

“What am I… supposed to do now?” Caleb asked, looking lost.

He sat on Fen"s bed—his bed—and looked around. He seemed much younger than sixteen.

“Nothing. Whatever you want, within the rules. Master won"t be home until late this evening.” It was the most Ellis had said in a very long time.

“That girl wasn"t very nice.” Caleb picked at his shift. Ellis noticed he didn"t have any luggage at all. He wouldn"t mind sharing his shower things—after all, they weren"t really
his
things.

Master provided them.

“No,” Ellis agreed. Michaela and Maya were pretty much 376

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interchangeable, except when they were together. For some reason side-by-side, there was always a nice one and a mean one. It was all part of their favoured mind games. When there was only one, she was always heartless.

“Can I have a shower?”

Ellis frowned. “I"m not the master. You can do whatever you want. You"ll need to borrow a shift.” He pointed to the dresser they would share. “Second drawer. It"ll be too big, but Master will buy you more.”

“Thanks,” Caleb whispered. “It"ll be weird, showering alone.” Despite the strangeness of that statement, Ellis didn"t press. He didn"t even want to look at this fey creature that was so like Harte.

“At the Facility, we had to shower all together. I hated it.”

“You"re from the Facility?” Ellis asked, unable to stop himself.

Harte…

“Yeah. My parents dropped me off last week. I guess they couldn"t wait the two years I had left until servitude.”

“You"re fourteen?” Ellis asked, astonished. Yet, it wasn"t unbelievable. The boy really was small and frail-looking. His eyes didn"t have that knowledge that Harte"s had. That all slaves had. If he"d only been at the Facility a week, he most likely wouldn"t have endured what Harte had gone through.

“Next week,” Caleb confirmed, a small smile on his face.

Ellis had a foreign disloyal thought about Master. How dare he take someone so young? Caleb wouldn"t survive in a household like this, so strict, so unforgiving. He was like a flower—he would wilt without proper nourishment. He hadn"t taught himself, like Ellis had, to take that nourishment from within instead of expecting it from outside sources.

He needed a master like William, who was kind and good, who 377

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had reasonable expectations.

“Go have your shower,” Ellis said, mind racing. He had to help Caleb, but how? He could do his best to explain the situation, but even with previous knowledge about how to survive in this house, it wouldn"t be enough.

Ellis couldn"t just tell him to be perfect and expect it to happen.

Even Ellis, who was better than he"d ever been, still got punished once or twice a week.

Someone so young and so woefully unaccustomed to slavery would flounder and flail. For the first time in ages, Ellis felt something outside the need to serve, the need for praise. He felt protective. This little Harte-creature needed him. Would that be breaking the rules? Ellis didn"t think so. He would be
helping
Master, really. Saving him the trouble of having to explain the simple things.

When Caleb came out of the shower, a white towel wrapped around his slim hips and hair flat against his skull, Ellis felt something else he hadn"t felt for a very long time.

Arousal.

It disturbed him to feel it for someone so young, but he told himself that if he didn"t look so much like Harte, who brought up so many sexual connotations in his mind, Ellis wouldn"t have looked twice at him.

Or maybe it was the latent master in him. That was something he"d managed to quell after William had awoken it in him by allowing him to be so dominant with Harte. Here with Master, there was no need for such urges. But Caleb was so small and beautiful, feminine, like all Master"s slaves.

“So, do you like it here?” Caleb asked, sitting on the edge of his bed and pinning his hands between his knees.

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“Yes,” Ellis said, not bothering to wonder whether it was true.

It was easier just to let those things go. “And you will, too. But there are a lot of rules, and you have to make sure to follow them.

Master is liberal with punishment, and you don"t want to get hurt for something you could avoid.”

“Like what, exactly?”

“Has he taken you yet?”

Caleb blushed. “Yes. At the Facility, they have rooms for if the masters want to… test us.”