Disclaimer: Don't own anything Gundam Wing, only wish I did (sigh!)

Rating (overall): NC-17
Pairing (main): 1x2
Warnings (general): lemon, language, violence, non-con sex, Duo torture, angst, OOC, AU, yaoi, Het, S/M, Squick, POV

A/N: This disturbing tale was inspired by several Anne Rice novels (O goddess of the strange and fascinating!) and my own twisted little mind. Note that, unlike in Beauty’s court, poor Duo is all alone in his ordeal. That makes it much more interesting, I think.

For You I Suffer
Part 10
by Heartfelt

I was well aware that I should keep my eyes lowered demurely to the floor, but I stared in open horror at the young women standing in Relena's sitting room. They were regarding me with avid interest, taking full advantage of this illicit opportunity to gawk at a full-grown, unclothed man.

"Relena, you're so fortunate!" cried one of the girls. "You got to see him last night but my parents forbade me from attending the banquet. How did you ever convince your brother to let you attend?"

My mistress' answer was accompanied by a grin of self-satisfaction. "Oh, brothers aren't nearly as strict as fathers can be. Besides, everyone knows that I'm Heero's particular friend. Zechs knew that Heero wouldn't forgive him if I'd been left out of last night's festivities."

"He's so pretty," a younger girl said, her shy voice never raising above an excited whisper.

Relena walked over to me and I resisted the urge to cringe away from her. I closed my eyes as she lifted a handful of my hair, holding it up for her friends to ogle. I wanted to shout my revulsion, to make it clear that I belonged to the baron and no one else! But Relena had been both clever and thorough. She had obtained Heero's unqualified permission to keep me as her own for the rest of the day. As she held up my face in her small hands, I felt the complete extent of my powerlessness.

"Relena," whined the first girl who had spoken, "can't we touch him, too? You can't possibly keep him to yourself!"

I shut my eyes, forcing down the urge to beg for mercy. I wanted to keep as far away from these horrible girls as possible but I knew it was a futile desire. Still, a tear escape to trace unbidden down my cheek. The droplet of emotion capture their attention all the more, and Relena had barely given her consent before they swarmed over me.

Light touches teased endlessly in my hair and face. Soft fingers brushed over my leather collar and lifted my golden chain. An intrepid hand felt the smooth metal of the clasp on my nipples and bolder touches ran over my exposed buttocks and bound cock.

Despite myself, the tears only flowed harder as I was carefully fondled. I tried to distance my mind from the situation. Let these girls satisfy their maidenly curiosity with me, I reasoned. Any young man would be thrilled to be in my place, being caressed by a bevy of nubile ladies. My body was certainly grateful; my treacherous cock swelling under their attentions, quite oblivious to my turmoil. And I might have been happy had I not been a mere slave, unable to express any of the thoughts chasing through my mind. My helpless state removed any hint of erotic pleasure I might have felt if I had still been a free man. But I was here, not by my own choice, but on the whim of my beloved master and my heart cried.

I knew that the baron had sent me away to allow me to be properly admired by his dear friend. But I couldn't help but wonder whether I could have done anything differently, whether I could have pleased him more, whether I could have made him love me so completely that he couldn't bear to be parted from me. The sting of his absence took on the distinct flavor of failure. Somehow, I hadn't been captivating enough and I was being punished for my flaws.

The girls continued to speak and I let their words pass over me, not even trying to understand. If only I could truly become the mindless creature I appeared to be, how much easier this would all be. Just then, a snippet of conversation managed to penetrate my self-induced haze and the words quickly garnered my full attention.

"Oh, Lady Relena! I have a wonderful idea!" The shy girl's cheeks were flushed with a becoming pink. I was almost amused by how her face appropriately took on the hue of this Hell in which I was trapped. I was just as eager as the others to hear her suggestion, though for far different reasons, I'd wager.

"Well, I mean..." The girl's voice drifted away as she found herself the center of attention. 'Don't lose heart,' I encouraged her silently. 'To what agonies do you long to subject me? Come on, then, be bold!'

As if she'd heard my sarcastic urgings, she continued in a blurt, "I mean, he's so pretty! We should dress him up, you know, like a lovely doll with ribbons and everything!"

The other young ladies just looked at her and for one blessed moment, I thought they would laugh off her childish request. But the smiles that began spread across their rosy lips suggested quite the opposite.

"What a delightful proposal!" Relena cried. "Yes, we shall ornament him with ribbon and lace. We'll color his face and fix his wonderful hair just as we please. We will make him even more beautiful, shan't we ladies?"

Her pronouncement was answered with excited cheers from her companions. Without delay, they set about their task, flitting into Relena's bedchamber and retrieving her sizable clothes-chest. From it, they pulled various scraps of fabric and linens. There was indeed ribbon and lace, and in colors other than pink, if you can imagine.

Their fervent chatter filled the air as jars of makeup were unearthed and a design concept was debated.

It's funny, really, how none of them noticed that their intended subject had gone utterly still. Their attentions were so diverted that I might have succeeded had I attempt to flee. However, I was completely frozen, my skin almost cold from the shock. What was I to become? My mind was unable to comprehend their intentions.

I had come into this place, believing that, buried somewhere very deep within, some small shred of dignity remained to me. Though I had consented to bear my body and soul for the pleasure of the man I loved, through my perfect obedience I had thought to retain some slight essence of pride. I would conquer, not by being strong, but by bending to the will and whims of my baron. My faultless submission was to be my triumph. And though I had been named a 'toy' and a 'favored pet,' I'd considered the appellations to be merely words designed to refine my mortification and accustom me to my role.

But now, it seemed as though I was just that - a plaything, a doll, a mannequin to be ornamented by and for the caprices of spoiled little girls.

A consensus was reached and I sat stupefied as the first ribbon was placed in my hair. The cloth was a lovely shade of violet, which apparently matched my eyes, according to Relena. That decoration was quickly followed by others until, before long, the entire length of my hair was entwined with violet strips of satin. More of the silky ribbon was tied around my collar and the loose strips were left to dangle down my body, brushing my skin with a dozen maddening caresses. From the corner of my eye, I could see someone approaching with a mysterious jar and a small brush.

Just as a sticky paste was being applied judiciously to my slackened lips with the tiny brush, a knock sounded on the door. At that point, I was beyond embarrassment and noted the entrance of the newcomer with total disinterest.

I heard the girl speak to my mistress, her voice husky and mature. My eyes were closed as some sort of powder was being applied to my lids, so I couldn't see. I was, of course, the topic of their conversation.

"So you did manage it, then," she drawled, her tone indolent. "I was sure Sarah was lying, but I should have known that the baron would never refuse you. He is rather attractive, I suppose, but couldn't you think of anything better to do than to dress him up like some puppet?"

I'd experienced a twinge at her less than enthusiastic appraisal of my appearance but these last words greatly upped her estimation in my mind.

"Oh, Dorothy, don't be tiresome," Relena sighed.

I felt the sudden press of voluminous skirts against my skin. My beauticians had finished their chore and my eyes blinked open as a strong hand lifted my chin.

The color blue had taken on some significance since I'd arrived at Windshire. I had blushed under the caressing blue gaze of Relena's brother, Lord Zechs; the aqua-marine glances of my trainer gifted me with much needed flattery; and the heated, forceful stare of my master left me aching with unbearable need. But the icy, blue stare of the girl looking down at me - her long, platinum blond hair falling past her waste - left me chilled. Some darkness lurked within the fathoms of her eyes and it threatened to drown me with fear.

I was shivering by the time she released me and was more than grateful for the conventions that bade me lower my gaze to the floor. Suddenly, I was glad that I was surrounded by this bevy of girls and was not alone with this forbidding lady.

My toilet completed, the girls stepped back to admire their handiwork. At Relena's suggestion, a mirror was fetched. I wondered at its necessity since I could clearly be observed by all. But, of course, there was one person in the room who had not perceived my transformation.

"Duo, come look at yourself. Don't you want to see what we've accomplished?"

I glanced up at Relena, fully expecting to her eyes filled with a mocking laugh. She was only teasing me, I concluded. It was impossible that she was serious in her offer that I should partake of my own degradation. But no mocking sparkle was to be found in her wide gaze. Her request was in earnest. I could taste a hint of the bile that was slowly rising in my gorge, threatening the stability of my stomach.

The ominous glass was brought nearer but I kept my eyes on Relena, unwilling to acknowledge its presence.

Dorothy's sharp gaze perceived my distress. Her lips frowned as she stepped in front of me, blocking my reflection in the mirror.

"Why, of course he's displeased with his appearance. How could he possible be happy to see himself in this disgraceful way?"

My eyes broadcasting my confusion, I looked up at her. She was gazing down at me with an expression that bespoke sympathy. Had I been wrong in my perception of her? Rather than a enemy, was she, in fact, a potential ally?

Kneeling before me, Dorothy smiled and gently stroked my beribboned hair in a soothing gesture. Her eyes held no hint of the coldness I'd glimpsed. They were open and friendly and regarded me with warmth and sincerity.

Finally, my heart shouted, someone who could protect me from these girlish demons. My attention was so completely captured by my own naïve delusions that I never noticed the sly hand reaching for my vulnerable flesh.

A wave of pain swept over me as a band of ribbon was tied tightly onto my turgid cock. I gasped, my eyes seeking the source of my distress. While I'd been busy fooling myself as to the true nature of Dorothy's character, she'd tied a piece of trim around my manhood, from the end of which swung a small, silver bell! Just as

I raised my indignant gaze, intending to seer her with my vehement, if impotent, fury, she rose and stepped away and I was left with nothing to look at but my own incredible reflection.

"There! Now he's complete! Duo, aren't you pleased?"

Here malicious laughter echoed in my ears as I was confronted by my image. What ever I could say about my treatment at the hands of these young ladies, they were certainly talented in the art of beautification. Rather than garish, the makeup on my face was almost subtle, highlighting each feature on my astonished visage.

The first thing I noticed were my eyes. Had they always appeared so large, their unusual hue so brilliant? Black liner and a smoke-tinged powder made a striking contrast to the amethyst of my horrified gaze. A touch of color along my cheekbones made them seem higher and slightly exotic. A generous application of plum to my parted lips lent them a sensuous fullness.

My eyes were drawn upward to the strips of ribbon cascading down the chestnut tumble of my hair. The mass was pushed behind my shoulders and fell pass the rounded cheeks of my ass, providing at least one area of my body with some much desired concealment.

But my front was clearly exposed and the teasing coverage of the silk trailing down from my collar was almost worse than my previous nakedness. The violet ribbon draped down my arms, over my chest, and somehow managed to fall squarely over each pebbled nipple, caressing the tortured flesh in a way that forced me to repress a helpless moan. The cloth continued down my taut stomach, the ends brushing atop my surging arousal with gentle, electrifying strokes.

And then, there was that damnable bell. The blond witch had fastened the silver ornament to the very tip of my cock and my every twitch and shudder filled the air with a merry tinkle that threatened to drive me mad.

I looked up once more, taking in the completeness of my image in the glass. Save the flatness of my chest and the prurient prominence of my cock, I had the appearance of a woman and a beautiful one at that. I looked magnificent and my every sensibility rebelled with hatred.

Ever since my initiation into servitude, my every humiliation, my every torment had insured me of the masculine character of my slavery. The cockring, the dildo, these all pronounced my unique condition. But now, in a few short moments, the girls had managed to utterly emasculate me with these womanly trappings. They had reduced me to some feminine thing, stripping me of the small shred of self I'd struggled to retain.

The ladies continued their conversations while I was held captive by my image. They, at least, seemed pleased with their handiwork, not noticing or caring about unfocused glaze falling over my eyes that bespoke the depths of my shock. A knock on the door shifted their attention and a girl close to the portal answered the summons.

Several servants entered bearing trays laden with savory offerings.

"Ah, lunch at last," Relena elucidated. "I took the liberty of ordering for everyone."

'Everyone' apparently included me as well, for she approached me with a plate. However, her passage was interrupted by Dorothy.

"Relena," she purred. How quickly I'd come to despise that sexy tone. "Wouldn't it be amusing," she continued,

"if we made Duo work for his food?"

My mistress head tilted to the side, bespeaking her interest in the suggestion. "How so?"

"Well," the said with silky cruelty, "he is a pet, is he not? I believe that a rousing game of fetch would be rather delightful. And if his efforts please us..." Cold blue eyes turned towards me as she stroked my cheek with a mocking finger. "If he pleases us, perhaps we could be persuaded to part with a treat."

For a moment, Relena seemed hesitant as though uncertain just how far she should stretch the baron's generosity. She was sure that Heero wouldn't want his precious slave to go hungry. The other girls, however, suffered from no such inconvenient moralistic musing. Their vociferous agreement edged her into agreement.

"Alright then, Dorothy. What are the rules of this game you've devised?"

Somehow, the malevolent grin was attractive on her full lips. It would haunt my nightmares for some time, I was certain. She turned away, her skirts swirling with carefree frivolity. She disappeared into Relena's room, returning briefly with a several lengths of stiff, dark leather. Riding crops, my sluggish mind provided. I dared not ponder their usefulness to Dorothy's invented amusement.

She passed them out, one to Relena and four to several of the older girls, keeping one for herself. In her hand, she tossed a medium-sized ball. Holding out the white sphere, she offered it for my inspection.

"Duo, this game is quite simple. One by one, we will order to you bring us this ball. But, you must push it along using only your cute, little nose and you must do it quickly and gracefully. That is all. Understand?"

I didn't understand at all, but I nodded, figuring it would be best to get underway rather than drag out the anticipation. She smiled again, prompting another shiver from me, and dropped the ball in front of me. Motioning with her crop, she positioned the other participants in a loose circle towards the edges of the room. They were evenly spaced and far enough away that it would take significant crawling on my part to reach any of them. The unchosen gathered in a corner to watch the show.

"Ladies, when he brings you the ball, make certain to reward him with a morsel, won't you?" Laughter floated up at her teasing command and the girls used their free hands to hold their lunch plates.

"Alright then. Ready? Duo, fetch!"

I guessed rightly that her order meant that I should bring her the ball first. I looked down at the toy, trying to discover how best to accomplish my objective. Tentatively, I lowered my face to the carpet, raising my posterior in an unconsciously alluring pose. I thrust my nose against the white sphere, moving it through the thick, pink pile. It was a rather difficult chore because of the lushness of the rug, but I eventually managed to bring the ball to the imposing blond.

I peeked up at her through my bangs, wanting to ascertain if I'd performed correctly. The narrowed glint of her eyes informed me otherwise. How had I failed, I wondered, swallowing nervously as I awaited her verdict. She shook her head, lips pursed with displeasure.

"No, no, no, Duo! That took far too long. I said quickly, did I not?"

I nodded sheepishly, admitting that, though graceful, I had moved sluggishly. I bowed my head, ashamed at my failure.

"I see some incentive is needed," she said. The leather of the riding crop lifted my chin, and I raised my tremulous gaze to meet her frigid regard. "Now," she whispered, "go to Relena and don't dawdle."

I lowered my head to the ball and turned towards my transient mistress, who was situated directly across from my present tormentor. Just as I made the first push, the burning sting of the riding crop blossomed on my exposed flank. Gasping, I looked back at the culprit. She brandished the hard leather, striking me again, harder than before.

"Go!" she shouted and the third crack of the crop sent me flying across the room towards Relena. All of my poise had fled but this at last seemed to satisfy Dorothy. Her hearty laughter followed me, the cadence of her amusement throbbing in time with the ache on my ass. I reached my mistress and looked up at her. Her eyes glowed with pleasure at the disgraceful sight I'd presented as I scuttled frantically across the carpet, my chain trailing between my legs. Reaching into her plate, the produced a small piece of meat which she fed me by hand.

Barely had I reconciled with this new indignity before a cry of summons was voiced from my left.


Relena urged me forward with her own crop and I arrived at the new player's side with alacrity. The increase in my pace caused my cock to swing furiously in time with my movements and the accursed bell announced my efforts with distracting peels.

A bit of bread hastily swallowed was followed by another cry of "Fetch!" On and on it went, back and forth across the pink chamber. A summons, a morsel of approbation, and the sting of a crop to send me on my way. After my twentieth trip, my chest began to heave from the strain. My nipples stung as blood pumped furiously through my veins. My cock responded to my emotional turmoil, hardening fully so that it beat against my belly as I crawled.

As I choked down yet another treat, I found myself perversely hoping that the tears streaming down my cheeks were not ruining my makeup.

I lost track of the hour as the game continued. The position of the sunlight streaming across the rug was my only indication of the passage of time. Finally, as the sun began to lower itself in the western sky, a knock at the door brought the game to a sudden halt and I knelt in the middle of the floor, gasping for air and swallowing a sob. As Relena went to the door, Dorothy moved towards me, stopping so that the tips of her slippers nudged my chin.

Using her toes, she lifted my head. She lowered a hand to my head and smiled as she stroked my hair with a calming hand. Removing a handkerchief from her sleeve, she dabbed away the sweat on my brow.

"Simply marvelous," she whispered. Her condescending praise prompted a confusing muddle of repugnance and elation. My tears flowed harder at my alarming ambivalence and I tore my gaze away from hers, lowering my tear-filled eyes to the floor.

Silk slippers were replaced by a familiar pair of dark boots, prompting me to look up once more. My trainer's face filled my vision like an impossible fantasy and my heart filled with love for my saviour. I lowered my head to rest against his leather-encased feet, feeling safe for the first time since I'd been ousted from the baron's study.

"It looks like you ladies have enjoyed a pleasant afternoon." The amusement in his tone dissipated any sense of security. Why wasn't he outraged at my appearance, infuriated by the sight of my distressed tears? Instead, he greeted my tormentor shyly.

"Lady Dorothy, how are you?"

She lowered her eyes demurely, her entire demeanor altering from cruelty to feminine meekness as he gallantly kissed her hand. It was in that distressing moment that I remember why Dorothy's name had seemed familiar.

Quatre had spoken of her the night before in the dining hall. It was she that had brought the endearing color to his cheeks at the mere mention of her name. I couldn't believe that a soul as kind as my trainer's could be deceived by this vicious woman. Surely he saw what sort of creature she truly was. But as I glanced up into my handler's enraptured gaze, I realized that no assistance would be forthcoming from that quarter. Suddenly, I felt abandoned and alone.

The other girls tittered at the interplay between the two blonds. Quatre seemed to realize that they were not alone and he released Dorothy's hand. Clearing his throat, he took hold of my tether and looked at me closely for the first time. A small frown furrowed his brow momentarily as he caught a tear on his thumb. But then the rest of my condition became apparent and his concerned expression was soon replaced with glee.

My trainer took in ever detail of my appearance, the ribbons, the bell. His eyes lingered approvingly on my face.

Dorothy and the others had been careful with the crops and there were no marks on my skin to denote their abuse. His eyes took on a glint of anticipation as he urged me to my feet and led me towards the door.

"We must return to the baron. Ladies, good evening to you." He sent a final, longing glance towards Dorothy as we departed. I did not look back.

The sight of plain, gray stone was like a feast to my pink-blinded eyes. Comments and stares followed us through the corridors of the castle, though this time the whispers were punctuated by the tinkling of the silver bell still dangling from my rigid cock. Perhaps, one day, I would eventually become accustom to the attention but

I couldn't image when that day might ever arrive.

At last, we reached the baron's study. Quatre had to call the guards to attention as their regard was fixed firmly upon the stunning sight I presented, bedecked with ribbon and face paint. Whatever would Heero think of my outlandish appearance? Would he glare with disgust? Would he laugh with derision? My breath quickened with trepidation as the guards finally swung open the study doors.

The baron was still hard at work and it was a moment before he realized he had company. He raised his head slowly, his quill poised in his hand. His eyes remaining on the documents before him until the last second when the flick upward towards the disturbance. His gaze fixed upon me immediately, and though his expression didn't change, the quill fell from his hand, landing with a quiet clatter.

I wanted to die as his unreadable gaze swept over me, taking in every minute detail of my appearance. His lips firmed over a clenching jaw was the only indication of a reaction and I wanted to take that bitch Dorothy with me as I went to my demise. Whatever impression I could take from his steady glare and still features, abhorrence seemed the safest deduction. He clearly hated how I looked and my only consolation was that, perhaps, he would punish the ones who had created my absurdity.

I had met his eyes, unable to quell my need to witness his reaction, but I could no longer endure his repulsion.

Tears threatened anew as my gaze fell to the ground. Finally, he spoke, his deep voice longed for even as I dreaded his pronouncement.

"I still have work to do. Take him to my chamber for dinner and a bath. And remove those silly ribbons."

Quatre nodded and turned to lead me from the room, unaware of the shattered pieces of my heart laying on the floor-stones. Just as we cleared the door, the baron called to my trainer.

"Quatre," he said, prompting the blond to poke his head back into the room as I stood forlornly in the hall.

Heero's instructions floated out towards me.

"Tell Helen to leave the makeup."

I was stunned, barely noticing the tug on my collar as Quatre guided me from the study. I couldn't imagine why the baron wanted me to keep on the face paint when he'd make his revulsion so apparent. But whatever conclusions my baffled mind sought to provide, my body had heard the unmistakable passion in his voice and responding eagerly to its master's call.

on to part 11

back to fiction

back to heartfelt fiction

back home