At His Throat, a Promise (39 page)

Just as the friction threatened to cross over to painful, Ellis tightened up one final time, exhausted and in agony, and Jude came soundlessly, fingers biting into Ellis"s waist.

He pulled out right away and wiped his cock on the sheets before Ellis could hear him buckling his trousers together.

“Very good, Ellis,” Jude said with a voice full of praise. “I knew you could do it. William has not ruined you after all. I am very pleased with you.”

Ellis slid off the bed and sank to his knees, his body screaming, his eyes scratchy, and his heart heavy.

“Just one critique.”

Ellis bristled.

“When a master is fucking you… ” Jude bent slightly to grip Ellis"s chin between hard fingers. “You do not try to rush him.” Tapping Ellis"s cheek just hard enough to be humiliating if not painful, Jude chuckled and said, “But otherwise, very, very good.” He left Ellis alone in the punishment room. Staggering to his feet, Ellis dressed stiffly and could only hope that Jack had no plans for his ass. After using the bathroom, Ellis stood in front of the mirror and looked at himself.

335

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

He"d always thought he was a good slave. He took pleasure in pleasing William. He took pleasure in
serving
William. He liked learning what William wanted, needed, groaned for, came from.

Had he been fooling himself? Was he really just a selfish slave who
dared
to try and hurry his master to save his own ass—

literally?

Was it wrong to not want to be hurt?

But when Jude had said Ellis was good, it
meant
something. He had pleased someone who was obviously difficult to please. Surely there was more pride in that than pleasing someone like Harte, who still got off in his sleep, rubbing against the mattress.

He looked tired and scared. His wide, grey eyes stared back at him, seeming to ask him just who he"d let himself become. When he"d first come to William, he"d been a good slave, and he"d continued to tell himself that all along.

What if he was wrong?

* * *

Ellis thought about what he"d do if Jack wanted to fuck him as well. There was absolutely no way he"d be able to without screaming. Even sitting on the edge of the bed was agony, and he had to hold his weight on his feet and just give the
appearance
of sitting so as not to frighten Harte.

“I don"t want to talk about it,” Ellis said immediately, before Harte could even as the question. “Until after I can compare him to Master Jack.”

“Of course, Ellis. That makes sense.” But Harte"s eyes 336

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

disagreed.

“Is he gone?”

“Master Jude left as soon as he came downstairs. He told Master that he was still interested and left, just like that.”

“And Master Jack?”

“Called to say he"d be here around four. It"s ten to.” Ellis stood, hiding his shakiness with sheer force of will. He straightened his already straight sheath and combed fingers through his hair.

“You looked beautiful,” Harte said in a subdued voice, not quite meeting Ellis"s eyes.

Unable to bear Harte"s softness, Ellis walked out of the room, uncaring if he was followed.

At the bottom of the stairs, William was opening the door to Jack, who smiled broadly and held out his hand.

Shaking it, William said, “Thank you for coming. I"ll show you to the parlour and go get Ellis.”

“I"m here, Sir,” Ellis said quietly, coming down the steps and kneeling in front of the two men. The action caused his body to scream in protest, but he bottled up the hurt and set it aside. It would do him no good now.

“Excellent,” Jack said. “Is there somewhere we can have privacy?”

Ellis"s stomach roiled. He wondered if throwing up was enough to get him out of this.

But William said, “The parlour will be fine. You won"t be interrupted.”

Without even bothering to try to guess what was going on, Ellis followed the two men into the parlour. Jack took a seat on the damask sofa, and Ellis knelt before him.

337

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

William left without a word, and the French doors closing had a sense of finality to it.

“I imagine that by now William passed on my apology,” Jack said casually, leaning back with his arms along the back of the couch.

Ellis nodded, remembering what Jude had said about talking too much.

“Good. Because I am sorry. I usually don"t get so carried away.

But with you wearing that outfit, I mean… you were kind of asking for that sort of reaction, weren"t you? Boys like you always love it when people give them attention.” Pointing out that William had dressed Ellis would obviously make no difference, so Ellis didn"t respond.

“Did the other guy fuck you?” Jack said abruptly.

Mouth dry, Ellis whispered, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. How was it?”

“It… it was… ”

Jack laughed. He snaked a boot between Ellis"s thighs and prodded his balls. Ellis squirmed and whimpered when the toe pressed harshly.

“It was… ?”

“Fine, sir.”

“I"m sure he"d be disappointed to hear his vaunted prowess described as
fine
.”

So the masters knew who they were competing against.

“Are you sore?”

Hesitating, Ellis wondered what Jack wanted to hear. He seemed like a bit of a sadist, so if Ellis said yes, he might fuck him anyway. If he said no, well… same thing.

“I"m fine, sir.”

338

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

“Hmm. You definitely are, aren"t you?” He spread his legs and nodded at Ellis, who obediently came forward to unzip his trousers and pull down his boxers slightly.

As Ellis tried to remember all the instructions Jude had given him, he took Jack into his mouth, tightening his lips and attempting to swallow around him. He choked a little, but not nearly as bad as he had with Jude.

“Oh, yeah, such a dirty mouth. So fucking filthy. I can practically feel all the guys you"ve sucked, you stupid slut. Oh, fuck, yes. So disgusting.”

Ellis burned in shame. No amount of training could have prepared him for this kind of treatment.

“Want me to clean out your mouth?”

Thinking the question was rhetorical, Ellis just continued to bob on Jack"s cock, his tongue working frantically along the underside, hoping it was enough to pacify the master.

But a hand in his hair ripped Ellis"s mouth away. His head was bent backward awkwardly, his mouth open from the angle.

“I said, do you want me to clean out your fucking mouth, whore?”

Tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, Ellis struggled, not against the hand, but for an answer that would please Jack. “Yes.” Jack"s grin was feral. He spat on Ellis"s face, saliva spattering over his cheek and nose, even in his eye. Ellis whimpered and tried to pull away, but Jack held him tighter, leaned closer, and spat right into his mouth, and again when Ellis was too shocked to react.

Gagging, Ellis cried out in protest. He yanked his head to the side and spit, tears slipping from his eyes in embarrassment.

There was a knock on the door. “Ellis? Are you all right?” 339

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

It was William.

Ellis froze, staring at Jack, whose face was hard.

“Say one fucking word,” he whispered, “and you"ll suffer.” But Ellis knew it was an empty threat. William would protect him.

“Sir, I—”

A sharp slap to his cheek shut him up, and Ellis fell to the side.

He scrambled back, away from Jack, just as the door opened.

“What the fuck is going on here?” William snarled. He sounded angrier than Ellis had ever heard, and his face was frightening.

“This stupid
slut
—”

“Don"t you say another word!” he roared at Jack. “Ellis?” Trembling half from fear and half from indignity, Ellis didn"t know what to do. Again, Jack hadn"t actually hurt him—except for the slap, which didn"t sting half as bad as what Jude had done to his ass. Like with demanding Ellis to clean his fingers at the party, the only real discomfort was from humiliation. But it was
strong
, stronger than pain, even.

“I don"t want him,” Ellis said simply, hoping it was enough.

It was.

William grabbed Jack by the collar and yanked him up, his cock dangling. “Until I hear the entire story, you are going to fear for your job. As soon as I know what happened, I promise you that I will be merciless. Now get out of my house.” He threw Jack away from him.

Stumbling, Jack sneered at Ellis and sucked in saliva as if to spit at him again. Ellis cringed away, but there was no need.

For William swung his fist into Jack"s cruel face with a punishing blow, and the man went down harder than Ellis had a 340

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

moment before. He lurched to his feet and grinned with bloodied teeth.

“See you around, whore,” he said. He nodded to William and walked right out of the room.

“Stay here,” William snapped at Ellis, who cowered farther against the floor.

Only a moment after William left, Harte came barrelling into the room.

“Oh, my—what
happened?
” he cried.

“Don"t!” Ellis said, holding his hand up to ward off the other slave. “Don"t come near me. Don"t touch me.” Harte backed away and Ellis got to his feet. He stumbled a little, and Harte stepped forward but didn"t actually try to help.

Ellis ran from the room, passing William on his way back to the parlour. William reached out for him, presumably to stop him, but Ellis evaded him.

“Ellis!” William shouted.

Only one thought ran through Ellis"s head:
Safe place. Get to
your safe place.

Once in his bedroom, Ellis pushed the vanity chair under the door handle and crawled into bed. His face was hot and sticky, and he wiped it off on the sheath, knowing that Jack"s spit was still on him. He tore the garment off and threw it aside, burrowing under the covers and pulling them over his head.

He cried. He hurt all over, but mostly in his heart. He felt sick, he was scared, he was
ashamed
. He wasn"t good enough, obedient enough, talented enough, not even smart enough. He just wasn"t enough.

He had to be better. He had to learn to control himself, to stop himself from feeling this way. He"d only hurt himself, falling for 341

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Harte and William, for that was exactly what he"d done, even though he"d
known
it would end like this.

There had to be—just
had
to be—a way to make his insides stop aching with all the loss and rejection and failure. He"d never felt like this before coming to William"s house. With his old master, he"d done his duties, absorbed his lessons, and looked forward to the end without dreading the present.

Now he was all up and down. There was no middle ground, no blissful numbness that took the sharp edges from the extreme emotions. He wanted that back. He wanted—
needed
—to know his place.

He wanted to be a better slave.

* * *

“It is your choice. I just want to make sure it"s the right one.”

“It"s the only one.”

Ellis had refused to tell William what Jack had done. It didn"t matter now, anyway; Ellis wasn"t going to him. William had tried to persuade him by saying that another slave might not have a choice, might not have options like Ellis had. Ellis didn"t care.

He"d also said nothing about the trial he"d been through with Jude. Looking back, Jude really was just trying to teach him. To show him what would be expected of him if Ellis chose him to be his master. That was commendable, really. Jude didn"t try to set up a false front that would make Ellis go blindly into his service. He was honest. He thought Ellis could be better or else he wouldn"t have reasserted his claim.

342

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

“There"s still Patterson. Or any number of candidates that might work. Please, Ellis, just… just
tell
me. Talk to me.”

“Thank you for the offer, Sir, but you"ve done enough. I"ve made up my mind.”

“What is this?” William yelled. “Some sort of defence mechanism? This detachment? This isn"t you!” Ellis flinched at the raised voice but said nothing. William didn"t really know him, after all. They"d made him responsive and sexualised, but they didn"t care about what was inside. Not even Harte. And now he was damaged.

Jude Mitchell would fix that.

“I"m sorry, Sir.” Ellis blinked.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

“I… Ellis, if you go with Jude, he… he won"t let you see us.

That was part of the reason Jack was in the pile. He"d have had no problem bringing you over. Sharing you, even. I realise now he was a horrible mistake, but Jude… he"ll take you away.”
Good.
Distance would dull the pain, Ellis was sure. He was counting on it.

Ellis knelt for nearly an hour, listening to various reasons why Ellis should reconsider, should give it more time, should have just one more interview, just one.

At the end of that hour, William gave up. Maybe he saw that Ellis had, too.

By the end of the day, he was packed.

The next morning, Jude was waiting.

343

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

“Is this it?”

Ellis looked at the small suitcase that Jude was holding up. He nodded.

Harte had given him the suitcase. William had bought him an entire set, even though Harte didn"t travel and didn"t have enough belongings to fill even half the pieces.

“You"re taking a part of the whole,” Harte had said, his words holding weight that Ellis couldn"t bear to acknowledge.

He"d had to ask William if he was permitted to bring his shifts and shower things. William almost looked as though he"d wanted to say no, but he"d said, “Of course,” the implication being that William had no use for them.