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 14
by Heartfelt

The night of my presentation to the Calderash court was remembered with fondness as the first groping hand reached for my vulnerable person. The nobles had been reverent in their scrutiny, bestowing gentle touches that had given me shameful pleasure. My passion had risen to their caresses, a fact my enlightened mind could now admit freely and without pause.

But there was nothing of admiration in the probing of this riled mob. One hand shot with unerring accuracy towards one of my nipple adornments. Vicious fingers squeezed the clamp roughly, sending a shaft of throbbing pain through me that made me cry out. Rather than provoking any feelings of sympathy in my attackers, the exclamation only further roused the throngs violent tendencies.

I closed my lids, hoping to veil my humiliation in the comfort of blindness. Unfortunately, my lack of sight only heightened the sensitivity of my sense of touch.

The twin of my aching nub was similarly assaulted, prompting another moan. Not satisfied with my wordless pleas, work-roughened hands reached for my unbound mane, raking through the silky tresses with fingers that were a mockery of the gently rifling to which I'd become accustomed. Words floated towards me from the faceless horde.

"Wot a pretty thing 'e is! His mouth is as red as a strawberry." A callused thumb ran presumptively over my parted lips. I distained the youth that had described me as he would a girl he wished to bed.

"Lovely 'air, to be sure." This from a young woman, her fascination clearly overwhelming any revulsion she might have felt at the sight of a naked man. I was reminded most unpleasantly, once again, of Lady Relena and her impudent followers.

The fingers plunging through my hair were no longer satisfied with the fleeting contact and were exchanged for hands that grabbed and pulled, making my scalp burn. My head tilted back in search of relief from the pressure.

"Look at all that pale skin. Bet 'es never even seen the sun afore now."

I was subjected to more ham-handed pawing. My throat, my chest, my stomach, all were summarily mauled. The skin of my buttocks burned under a series of stinging slaps. The rosy color that resulted brought forth a chorus of boorish howls. Hands stroked roughly down my legs and up the inside of my separated thighs.

My mind rebelled against this brutal treatment. I had been spoiled by my tenure at the castle and had quickly forgotten the more comment element with which I'd once identified. Not so long ago, I, too, had been a mere farmer, though, hopefully, not as uncouth as these. How my friends would laugh at the superior airs I had gain in so short a time.

The mob continued its examination until no fragment of me had been left unmolested, save one. I prayed for this singular part to be ignored for my body had been too well trained by my baron and I feared the reaction that was, even now, swelling perversely within me. My body knew not the difference between a loving touch and an irreverent grope. My flesh had come to crave sensation and the mob was providing it with plenty of unwanted stimulation. Gritting my teeth, I forced away the compulsion, knowing I would die from shame if I were to react in any way to this harassment.

But, of course, my wishes were all in vain. A pair of meaty fingers rubbed heavily over the leather strap that shielded the furrow of my ass and I was overcome as the dildo filling me was jostled, pressing against a treacherous spot hidden deep within my engaged orifice. My body clenched around the wooden shaft, the movement leaving me hard and gasping even as my skin flushed from the mortification. The crowd was quick to notice the defection of my wayward flesh.

"And 'ow bout this 'ere! Seems like it's looking for something." Raucous laughter accompanied the remark.

"Well give it something, Ian!"

"I will at that!"

My thrusting cock was grasped without ceremony and the thrice-damned Ian began to stroke it with all the finesse of a milk maid working the udder of a cow. The motion was clumsy and the force with which he squeezed me was almost painful. But, again, the golden ring around the base of my shaft was my only redeemer.

I cried out like some callow youth, my hips moving unconsciously in time with the revolting manipulation. I could scarcely countenance the knowledge that I stood in a market square, surrounded by a throng of farmers' sons and daughters, trying desperately to come in this young clod's hand.

Until this moment, I had truly been lost in my vision of the perfect faithfulness I'd given my baron. I rejoiced in the blissful idea that only he could coax the most wanton of responses from me. My body, though weak, could be controlled by the force of my love and the strength of my heart. Only his touch could bring me to that ultimate completion which left me quivering and sighing like an innocent maiden.

But, now, my body spoke its knowledge of the lie and I wanted to weep at the revelation. My hips thrust faster to the bawdy delight of the mob, the work-roughened skin of the hand surrounding my cock making me burn and ache with the need for release. I was so close, so close that I could see the beginnings of the heralding flashes of light behind my shut lids.

In that near moment of failure, I did cry out. Sound tore from my throat in insensible supplication, pleading fervently for salvation. And, just as the cockring began to fail against the multiple efforts assailing my nipples and my arousal, a kind voice ended my torture.

"All right, then, I'm afraid I must take him from you, now."

At last, Quatre had returned. The hand disappeared from my cock and the mob faded away as my trainer came to stand before me. He reached up and unhooked my bound hands from the support beam. I immediately collapsed against him, sobbing my misery and relief into the gold of his hair. He caressed my heaving back with a soothing hand.

"Duo, what ever is the matter?"

How could I tell him that I had nearly betrayed my master in the hand of some ignorant yokel? I would surely be cast out, removed from Windshire in disgrace and ignominy. This was a slight that could never be forgiven. So I said nothing, instead falling to my knees. I rested my head against the trainer's boots, my cock still dripping shamefully into the dirt.

"You, there," Quatre called out sharply. I could see another pair of booted feet approach us, the coverings much shoddier that my handlers, however. They stood next to where I knelt, shuffling nervously.

"Sir," the owner of the boots answered. Horrors! It was none other than Ian.

"Tell me, what happened here? Why is the baron's pet crying at my feet? Answer!" he shouted, when Ian remained silent.

"We didn't do nothing, sir! We was just 'avin' some fun wit 'im!"

Quatre remained unmoved. "What sort of 'fun?'"

The shuffling increased. "Well, we was... I was..."

"Speak up, man!" A quick peak exposed a sight I never thought I'd witness: my trainer's face was tight with uncharacteristic ire.

"I was just tryin' to make 'im come! That's all!"

I groaned as Ian blurted out my dishonor. I waited in agony for Quatre's reaction, my forehead pressing more firmly against his boots as though seeking comfort. What would happen to me, I pondered. Would I be immediately ousted from my service, left to return to Fashel with the knowledge that my eyes would never again rest on my baron's face? I shook in fear as I awaited the pronouncement of doom.

You might image my utter incredulity when Quatre began to laugh with unrestrained delight. I rose up from my huddle to look into his hilarity-struck features. He had gone pink from the strength of his merriment and tears seeped from the corners of his eyes. A quick glance at the putrid Ian told me that I wasn't alone in my shock. Only after a long moment was Quatre again able to speak.

"Oh, my dear fellow," he said, resting a companionable hand on the farmer's broad shoulder. "I thought, perhaps, you had abused Duo in some way. But you're actions were entirely proper."

He gazed down at my distressed face, reaching down to stroke my flushed cheek with a calming hand. Quatre directed his next comments to me, as it was I who was in dire need of education.

"You are the baron's pleasure slave, Duo. As such, it is your duty to provide entertainment to the baron and all of his subjects, both high and low. By giving me permission to bring you to the village, the baron gave his implicit sanction to any that might wish to partake of your beauty. You will remember," he said softly, "the baron may give you to anyone he wishes."

How could I have forgotten that simple, and most difficult, rule? If Heero wished to share me with others, then shared I would be. It was only my arrogance that led me to presume that I would be informed when such lending would take place, or that I would only be given to those with rank. Once again, my foolishness had been my undoing. I was not consoled, however, by the thought that the baron would, perhaps, have been proud if I had spilled my passion over the young farmer's calloused hand.

Ian was dismissed and made his relieved way back to his companions, eager to relieve his near moment of infamy. To think, he'd nearly made the baron's pleasure slave come in the square! He'd be a hero to his friends for weeks.

Quatre reintroduced me into my role as his horse, quickly retethering me to the carriage. I was almost comforted by the position, secure in the knowledge that, thus employed, I was safe from any unwanted advances.

The sun was just passing its apex as we quitted the village. We continued on our previous track, the buildings and cultivated fields decreasing in frequency as we neared the eastern edge of Furuiki. The outer rim of the forest was dominated by budding pines, which offered a broken expanse of clear land between the towering trunks.

I was still struggling with emotional despondency, unable to internalize the concept that I might have to submit to anyone other than the baron, when a lone cottage came into view. I looked over the unexpected dwelling, admiring the solid construction of log and stone. A small creek ran towards the back of the property, the obvious source for the well that sat near its eastern bank.

Quatre drew up on my halter, bringing me to a stop just beyond the front door. He dismounted from the carriage and walked to the entrance, unmindful of the dead leaves that clung to his polished boots. He knocked on the door and I watched curiously as he waited for an answer.

In short order, the door opened. I knew the person standing in the entrance was a man only by his voice, for he stood within the cottage, hidden from my view. My trainer held out a hand in greeting and it was engulfed by slender, capable-looking fingers.

"Good afternoon, Sir Gamesman," Quatre said by way of welcome.

The voice sounded in a low chuckle. "Hardly a 'sir,' my lord."

My trainer laughed, as well, sharing in what was obviously an old joke.

"Well, be that as it may, you are certainly the best gamekeeper Windshire has seen these many years. Or so the elder nobles tell me." He turned his head in my direction. "Come out for a moment. I've brought someone for you to meet. Duo, this is Trowa Barton."

Thus, I saw Windshire's master gamekeeper for the first time and, for an instant, I wished myself back in the market at the mercy of the mob, content in the simple embarrassment of the fawning throng.

Before first coming into possession of my family farm, I had never in my life seen a man as handsome as Baron Heero Yuy and I was certain that I never would again. I had come across a fair share of attractive noblemen at the castle; Lord Zechs and my trainer quickly came to mind. But, though the baron still held a place of preeminence in my estimation, the man who stepped from the cottage made my breath catch in my throat and my heart beat faster in my chest.

He was tall, though not as tall as Lord Zechs. And where the blond nobleman's figure was ostentatious in its magnificence, the gamesman was sleek power personified. A shock of brown hair hung defiantly over one side of his face, lending his countenance a most unnecessary air of mystery and framing his sensuous lips with devastating efficiency. His skin was a tawny shade that bespoke his familiarity with the outdoors. He moved with an easy grace that I'd only witnessed in one other man and his prowess affected me in a similar manner.

I was confused beyond measure. In the square, I'd been faced with the awareness that I had no firm reign over the responses of my body. But, now, it seemed that my heart was equally unmanageable.

The gamekeeper gazed at me with eyes as deep as the emerald vista of the old forest and they journeyed over my exposed form with a scalding thoroughness that left me trembling. Never had anything but the deep-blue regard of my baron ever affected me in such a manner. I dropped my gaze to the ground, desperately trying to deny the defection whispering in my heart.

"And who is this, my lord?" His voice, though not as deep as the barons, was vibrant with a commanding softness. I could not keep my treacherous eyes away from him and I glanced up from beneath the hair forming a protective fringe over my face. I silently begged Quatre to keep my identity a secret. I was ashamed for this beautiful man to know what I was. I wanted to be gone from his presence, back in the captive safety of the baron's chamber.

"This is Duo, Baron Yuy's new pleasure slave," my trainer elucidated. "I am taking him on a bit of an outing while the baron is busy with the trade ambassadors from Slaburry."

As I happened to be gazing fixedly into his face at the time, I was able to witness Trowa's reaction to Quatre's explanation of my position. The emotions were subtle and fleeting, almost impossible to decipher. But, the two that shouted to me most clearly were curious intrigue and an almost bitter disappointment.

"That so?" he responded in that low, deliberate tone. "I'd heard about such things from my father but I never thought I'd actually see one." Trowa flicked a question glance in the blonde's direction. "But, why bring him to see me? Surely you have more important folk for him to meet?"

'Yes, why?' I added silently. Why was I being forced to question the truth of every feeling I'd ever had for the one I called 'master.' How could my heart belong solely to him when the mere sight of this man was making me burn? I wanted to flee. I needed to get away before the rationales that ruled my existence were torn asunder.

"Well," Quatre began, "it is my job, you know, to care for Duo while he is in the baron's service. I came to realize that the baron would not always be available, concerned as he is with the running of Calderash and all." The trainer's chuckle went unreturned by the tall gamekeeper.

"And so," he continued, "I thought that, since Duo was a farmer before coming to Windshire, perhaps he would enjoy being of some use. Not that his beauty isn't incentive enough for the baron to keep him here."

Trowa's mouth tightened imperceptibly at the mention of what 'use' the baron might have for me. He seemed, dare I say, almost offended on my behalf. I looked quickly towards my trainer, my pleading eyes expressing my fervent desire to return to the castle and sanity. The gamesman's eyes traveled over me once more, taking in the intricacy of my harnesses. Was it truly possible to die of humiliation?

"I don't understand," Trowa murmured, his gaze returning to my blushing cheeks.

"The baron and I thought maybe he could be of assistance to you," Quatre explained. "The elder baron never let his slaves out of his sight but Heero is not nearly so selfish as was his father. The harvest is rapidly approaching and, rather than have poor Duo languish in the castle when the baron is occupied, Heero decided, upon my recommendation, that he be loaned to you to assist you in your work. I'm sure he'll be of great service to you."

The unintended double-entendre did not go unnoticed by either myself or the gamekeeper. His gaze hardened on my face just as my gut clenched with the unthinkable suggestion. I lowered my attention, once more, to the ground trying desperately not to think of all the ways I could 'be of great service' to the captivating gamesman.

Incredibly, Quatre seemed to remain unaware of the undercurrents flowing between myself and Trowa. His unaffected, aquamarine gaze rested on the tall man's face, waiting for his response. If he thought it was a bit long in coming, the trainer made no mention of it. For myself, I waited in agony for his answer. But, I honestly could not say what I wanted it to be.

At length, Trowa spoke, "I suppose, I could use an extra hand in the field. And the forest creatures always need tending this time of year. Breeding season and all. When can I make him come?"

My cock reacted to the blatant invitation and I felt like screaming. I could not, absolutely could not, be left alone with this man. Had I not proven in the square that whatever self-control I'd once possessed had long since vanished?

But, then I remembered the other half of the rules that governed my status. The baron could give me to whomever he wished, but none could touch me without his permission, even if it be only implicitly given. Surely he would never sanction my having any undue contact with the gamekeeper.

No, of course he would not. Unlike the farmers in the village, I would not be visiting Trowa as a mere thing to be gawked at and played with. I would be coming here to work. That would be the extent of our relationship. And just to make certain, I would be sure to seek clarification from Quatre once we were away from this place.

For once, the rules that had plagued me since the beginning of my tenure offered me comfort. Reassured, I raised my gaze boldly, looking the gamekeeper in the eye. My sense of defiance allowed me to ignore the renewed effects of his regard rather handily. But, I lowered my eyes again after a few moment, so as not to seem impertinent, I told myself.

"He will be available whenever the baron does not need him," Quatre explained. Trowa nodded in silent understanding and agreement.

The deal was struck and Quatre bid the gamesman farewell. He stepped onto the carriage and lifted my reins. I threw one last glance at Trowa, wanting, perversely, to know what he thought of my equine bearing. As we started away, I was dismayed at the unrepentantly sexy smile that flashed briefly at the corner of his lips. I ran away from the intimation with the speed and vigor worthy of a true thoroughbred.

on to part 15

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