For You I Suffer
I had expected to be led back towards the banquet hall. The scene of my first, shocking introduction seemed an appropriate place for my next public humiliation. However, it wasn't that grandiose chamber to which I was directed. Rather, I found myself in a lush garden, the thick, dewy grass tickling my feet as I shivered at the warm brush of the evening breeze against my skin.
'Why are we in the garden?' I wondered. Though my eyes could not help but marvel at the stately trees and the decorative whimsy of the topiaries, I could not douse the unease that pricked at the back of my neck. The green expanse had been arranged with tables and high-backed chairs. Servants were already scampering amongst the settings, laying out plates, goblets, and fancy silver cutlery. The place where the baron and his guests would sit was demarked by a long table of carved mahogany. Before it waited ornately fashioned seats of like wood upholstered with heavy, velvet cushions.
My thoughts turned, as always, to Heero. I wanted very much to see him, to set at ease the tremors in my heart that had been roused so ruthlessly by Lady Une. Surely, I prayed, surely I could find some way to raise my estimation in my baron's eyes. There had to be some scheme by which I became so much the object of his unbridled affection that he could never bear to part with me. Yet how, in my lowly state, could such a thing be accomplished?
The conundrum, though it worried constantly at my thoughts, was for the moment stalled when I found myself standing before the most peculiar contraption I had ever beheld. I glanced wide eyed at my trainer for some elucidation, but for the moment, he seemed content to grace me with a knowing smile and to let me work out the means of the monstrosity for myself.
Two sturdy wooden loops of great diameter were nestled within each other, though to what purpose I could not fathom. The inner loop was affixed to the outer by two posts situated horizontally opposite from each other. My farmer's mind, familiar with simple bits of machinery, understood that the posts would enable the inner frame to pivot about the axis defined by them. The outer loop was secured at its bottom edge to a larger pole, which held the loops a not insignificant height from the ground and in turn, was fastened to a large, box-like support.
My wandering gaze went no further in its investigation of the larger structure, but was distracted by more minute, and therefore, more distressing details. From the top of the inner frame hung brightly polished chains, which ended in manacles lined with thick pads of the same rich velvet as graced the dignitaries' chairs. They were positioned to give a graceful stretch to the arms, neither overhead nor to the side but somewhere in between.
Two poles jutted from the bottom of the smaller loop and atop each was a narrow platform, cushioned and lined with a covering of dense fur. From each platform hung a leather strap, their function clearly one of restraint. The poles were spaced at such a particular distance that their objective immediately clarified in my tutored mind.
This then was to be the latest instrument of my torture. The contraption burned into my eyes, my gaze unable to shy away from its imposing menace. The flush in my cheeks signaled my fatalistic curiosity, leading Quatre to cheerfully identify the device and explain my part in its role.
"Do you like it, Duo? I devised it myself and am quite proud of the accomplishment. You are familiar with basic mechanics, I presume? Well," he continued at my half-hearted nod, "you see here this bottom support?" He pointed to the large pole affixed to the outer ring. "This connects the main loop to the housing and this additional rod, to which the pivots of the inner loops are also coupled."
I now espied the indicated shaft. It had been stuck through the boxy housing and was linked to the pivots by means of strong, thin leather straps. The straps were under high tension and it was obvious that any rotation in the rod would similarly cause rotation of the inner loop about its axis.
"Though you cannot see it, there is a clever bit of gear work in the housing, such that as this bottom shaft turns, spinning the inner loop, the pole supporting the outer loop likewise turns. And voilá!" he described with a winsome grin. "Both rings spin with perpendicular synchronicity."
The vision of that motion working upon my person solidified vividly in my thoughts. Such a spectacle I would make. My trainer, indeed, had the right to be boastful. I could not dwell on such things, unwilling to anticipate the event until any opportunity for escape was utterly forsaken. Instead, I examined the construction with eyes from my former life, when I had been an innocent boy with an interest in such mechanized things.
"How does it move, my lord?" I praised myself on the steady tone of my inquiry. "What is its source of power?"
"Ah!" came the eager response. "I'm glad you asked. As in all things, it is the simplest solution which is often the better. So," the utterance accompanied a sudden clasp around my arm and I was lead to a nearby stream. It provided, it seemed, not only nourishment for the garden, but a means to effect the spectacular nature of my imminent display.
"The rod runs from the housing to the stream." I followed the direction of his pointing finger. We stepped over to the surprisingly energetic flow. "You can see the propeller submersed in the current." I voiced my capacity. "Well, here another collection of gears, similar to that in the housing, causes the rod to turn." Two cogs, one connected to the paddle and the other to the rod, meshed together such that rotation of the one would cause spin in the other. It was, as Quatre said, simple and ingenious.
"Let me show you how it works." No acknowledgement was required from me. My handler seemed only too eager to show off his toy. He removed a large stone which had been wedged between two of the propeller's blades, stopping its motion. No sooner had the impediment been lifted away, than the blades caught the buffeting current and began to spin at a sedate though relentless pace. The great rings began to move, their ambulation as advertised. It was truly an impressive sight and the nerves in my stomach began to agitate in earnest.
"Lovely, is it not?" Quatre smiled at my nod of agreement, apparently content to ignore the sudden pallor of my complexion. "Come, let's get you situated. I think this will be your most astounding presentation yet!"
I genuinely wished that I could share in his enthusiasm, but such an emotion was not to be mine. Anxiety was all I was capable of experiencing and feel it I did. It escalated with every passing moment, starting with the sight of two, burly servants bringing a ladder so that I could climb up to the platforms in the inner ring. Quatre replaced the stone, stopping the movement of the rings. I dutifully walked towards the ladder, going so far as to place a foot on the bottom rung before the small blonde stopped my progress.
"Oh, my! I nearly forgot." He reached into a pocket within his breeches, and produced a bottle of scented oil. I instinctively backed away, none to eager to undergo the ordeal of having his hands all over me as he applied the sweet-smelling stuff. Fortunately, he remained unaware of my fleeting defection and poured a generous handful into his palm. "There, now. This will be just the thing."
My breath came raggedly as he applied the oil with efficient swipes. He did not linger unnecessarily over the tormented nubs upon my chest, explaining that the oil might undo the grasp of the clamps. I didn't care what the reason was, but could only be grateful for the oversight. No other part of me was thus ignored, however. Quatre worked the lubricant into every inch of my body, his competent fingers massaging generous amounts of the oil into my eager flesh. My hair shone with its application, my skin glistened, and even my bared feet were not spared.
I was obliged to support myself with a hand at Quatre's shoulder as he knelt before me to apply the oil to my legs and between my toes. I might have been amused at the seeming reversal of our figurative positions had not the treatment engendered a renewed ache in my cock. At last, the final bit of me was covered and my trainer stood to examine the effect. I was tremendously relieved when I realized that my wayward arousal had been left unmolested, though I couldn't image why. Perhaps, I surmised, it had been neglected because it already glistened at the tip with the unmistakable signs of my shameful excitement.
"Wonderful!" Quatre exclaimed, ignoring my quickened breath. "As I suspected, the oil gleams beautifully in the torchlight. Your skin is so magnificently pearlescent; it will truly be shown to its best advantage tonight." He reached out with a finger to stay a bead that had undertaken to run down my chest. "Now, up you go."
Once more, I found myself at the ladder. But this time, there was to be no reprieve. While the servants held the loops steady, I clambered up as best I could, the exercise made more distracting by the wood lodged within my body. Eventually, I reached the platforms and at Quatre's urging, placed my knees in the fur-covered depressions. I hastily reached for the leathery manacles, which stretched my arms high and wide, holding them in a white-knuckled grip so that I did not tumble from my dangerous perch.
My trainer climbed up behind me and arranged the position of my legs to his liking before securing the straps about my calves, just below the knee. I now saw the small buckles and the opening at the inner edges of the stands which existed solely for that purpose. I had to congratulate myself for my foresight. As I had surmised upon seeing the platforms, they spread my legs at an indecently wide angle, though the stretch was not unbearable. I realized anew that my most tender flesh would be exposed clearly to any who should look up at me from below. Or, remembering the demonstration of the device in action, the rotations of the contraption would eventually exhibit me to all in attendance. I hoped the partygoers would appreciate the treat as they caught glances of my bared secrets.
As though that enjoyment were his aim, my trainer ensured such a flaunting by means of a cruelly clever little device. He withdrew a small ring of polished gold from somewhere upon his person and reached around so that I might admire it. My brow furrowed, confused as to its benefit. But my puzzlement lasted only until I felt the press of the ring against my cleft. I moaned as it was wedged in tightly between my spread cheeks, pressed so that it was directly against my opening. I blushed furiously as I imagined the way it must look, baring and highlighting the distended hole. The metal glinting in the firelight could do none other than draw the eye. The pressure of the small loop against my sensitive flesh and the knowledge that I was so ruthlessly bared to all curious eyes set up a tingling in my gut that was only matched by the throbbing in my cock. My gasps were ragged in the quiet air of the garden. Quatre ran a gentling hand over my leg and returned to the ground. He gestured silently to the servants before smiling up at me.
"Be sure to hold tight to the shackles." Quatre's admonishment broke through my unsettled musings. It wouldn't do at all for you to fall!" I had but a moment to recheck my grip as he ordered before strong hands rotated the inner frame, leaving me to dangle in midair, my body parallel to the grass. I cried out with a pathetic mew, my heart pounding in shock at this new attitude, yet my grip was sure and I was, for the moment, safe. One of the servants released his burden and came to stand below me. Reaching up, he placed bold hands against my torso, touching more than was necessary in my opinion. I shuddered as naughty fingers passed over a constricted nipple while the other hand settled low on my abdomen, such that the subtlest shift would have my arousal in his hand.
Though dismayed at his presumption, I was indeed grateful for the support as Quatre brought the ladder around before me and climbed up to secure the manacles about my wrists. My heart leapt as I was bid to release my death grip on the velvet-lines rings, yet the blonde was quick and sure in his movements, and soon I was properly bound. The servant lowered his arms and there I was, hanging by the grace of nothing more than sturdy strips of an animal's hide. The inventive blond brushed a gentle hand over the side of my hot face and pressed a soft kiss against my brow before lowering himself to the ground, abandoning me to my fate.
Unsettled at this strange arrangement, I wished desperately to be reoriented to a more accustomed, upright position. But apparently my appointment was not yet done. My cock twitched at the familiar handling by Quatre's capable fingers as he affixed yet another golden ring, the same size as the first though more delicately fashioned, about the end of my shaft, slipping it over the engorged head. Although the ring was wide enough to allow for an easy placement, though a bit snug, the very nature of my wayward flesh ensured that the removal would not be so effortless. I swelled at Quatre's touch, yet the ring did not accommodate. Even the slightest increase in my excitement insured that the small ring would be secure for the duration of my ordeal.
A string had been slipped through the ring and this my trainer proceeded to secure to the bottom of the inner loop. That part of myself that enjoyed my own debasement guaranteed that my cock would take no other posture than straight out in front of my groin. The string making certain that it would not be free to flop against my belly as was its wont.
My nipples were subjected to like treatment. More string was threaded through the small, versatile loops at the ends of my clamps. The ends of which were, in turn, wrapped around the upper edge of the inner frame. Though the effect was not as dramatic, the consequence on my person was immediate and intense. The clamps pulled gently but resolutely at the throbbing nubs jutting from my chest, increasing the need that burned in the flesh standing prominently from my hips. The groan that issued from my throat was loud in my ears and nearly drowned out Quatre's words.
"Remove the stone," he said, stepping clear, and though the speech was not directed towards me, they concerned me alone. I wanted to beg for a moment's pause, for a brief span of time in which to prepare myself. But any such request would have been unavailing and I, instead, reserved my breath to manage the gorge that rose as I finally suffered the inclusive effect of Quatre's genius.
"Are you comfortable, Duo?"
How to respond? I hesitated, unable to answer more unequivocally until I could determine what effect the slow spinning would have on my nervous stomach. However, my uncertain nausea could not divert me from the picture I must have made as I moved to and fro through the air. As always, my hair had been left to hang loose, and it swirled about me, at the mercy of gravity as I moved. It flipped as I did, falling into my face, moving over my shoulder and back, uncountable scores of silken filaments sliding deviously over my naked skin. Surely it must have made a magnificent sight, though I was not in a position to appreciate it.
Fine vibrations ran through the wooden frames as they rotated and each slight tremor was magnified and increased as they worked down the strings that secured my nipples and tortured cock. I determined that my wanton moans would have to suffice as a reply since I was incapable of overcoming the sensations that swept through me with every creak and turn.
"Lovely," Quatre reiterated quietly, seeming to accept my licentious exhortations as a sufficient response. He dismissed the gawking servants and reached out, running a hand over my flank as it passed overhead. Then he moved out of the way, leaving me to continue my gyratory display without hindrance. The oil beaded and slid over my flesh, the motion of the device confusing the trailing droplets so that they flowed first one way then another, teasing me into hardness with gentle tickles. I grew increasingly less certain that I would survive this most ingenious ordeal.
By and by, the participants of the banquet began to file into the garden. Though I caught only momentary glimpses of their faces, I could feel the dozens of amazed eyes that ogled and scrutinized. Their gazes caressed me just as surely as the swirling rush of air that brushed over my bared skin. Would I ever become accustomed to being reduced to a mere object for show? Such philosophical conjecture could not be sustained in my beset mind. The blood rushed hither and yon throughout my stressed body and forestalled any attempt at coherent thought. I had been effectively reduced to the mindless pet which was supposedly the ideal to which I strove. There was only the disturbingly intense feeling of my pulse shifting back and forth from head, to nipple, to cock.
I closed my eyes for a moment, marveling at how the removal of sight amplified the whirling sensation. However, something nudged at me to look outward once more. Thus it was that I finally saw my baron as he entered the terrace. The delegates filed in behind him, the ginger-hued head of the primary ambassador walking beside my lord. I recognized him as Treize Kushrenada, the sharp-tongued man I'd met the previous evening. His manner must not have overly improved, for Heero wore a dark expression. It was one of supreme aggravation, though anyone who didn't study his every mood as carefully as I have would have been hard pressed to identify his ire.
As I lost sight of my baron, my vision denied by the spinning of the contraption that held me aloft, my sluggish thoughts turned to their favorite pastime: the contemplation of Heero's temper. Every glimpse I managed to catch served to solidify my conclusion that my baron was in a frightful mood. He seemed distant, even more so than usual, as well as somewhat sullen. What was the cause of Heero's malcontent? Had something happened to displease him? Was I the cause? Had he learned of my untoward fascination with the gamekeeper? Did he know of his aunt's plans? Before long, I had become utterly distraught with the notion that I had, somehow, again failed my love.
The mental contortions served to distract me, though only a little, from my predicament. So it was that the banquet ended with my heart racing at an only slightly elevated pace. My most tender parts were merely enflamed rather than overset as the motion that had ruled me for the better part of three hours was brought to an abrupt end. I had to close my eyes for a moment, as it took my equilibrium several minutes to realize that I had, indeed, been stilled.
The last of the guests were leaving and I regretted that I had not caught a final glimpse of my master before he'd quitted the garden. I could only hope that I had been pleasing to him and had, in some way, managed to relieve whatever concerns weighted so heavily upon him. Much of my time within the spinning contraption had been spent mulling over ways to ease his cares once we were reunited later that night. Though worry gnawed at my mind, thoughts of just how I could be of use to my baron had not made the fit of the ring at the tip of my cock any more bearable.
Quatre came to me quickly as the machine was halted. His handsome features were alight with a bright smile, and as always, it comforted my heart. If nothing else, he was pleased with me and the knowledge gave me ease.
"Duo, I cannot begin to tell you how utterly brilliant you were! The assembly could talk of nothing else. You have surely done Heero a great service tonight, especially in the eyes of the Slaburry delegates. They were burning with envy to a man that they could not call themselves your master."
That then was something, I supposed. After all, what was my reason for being other than to bring joy and prestige to my baron? As my mind righted itself, I was able to respond to my trainer with a shy smile in acknowledgement of his praises. My fair temperament was met with a joyful laugh.
"You are without comparison, pretty one. Ever does your heart understand its place and purpose and I, for one, am glad for it. It would not do for Heero to have to suffer a recalcitrant dorei. Now," he continued, calling to one of the servants for the ladder, "let's get you down from there and back to your master. I have a notion that he'll be greatly wanting to see you."
So, I was not alone in my perception of Heero's foul humor. It was not unexpected that Quatre, the baron's closest confidant by preference and circumstance, should likewise be attuned to his moods. Quatre climbed up the ladder while the same two servants who had assisted in my entrapment held my prison with steady hands. The blond stopped when his head was at a level with my hips and his lips pursed thoughtfully as he observed an intriguing difficulty.
"Hmm. I should have anticipated this." He fingered the gold ring about my cock, which had begun to dig most uncomfortably into the pulsing shaft from the extent of my contrary arousal. He tugged experimentally at the loop and a wry grin came over him at my resultant groan. He realized, as I did, that there would be no easy removal of the restriction. I began to fear that the ring at the base of my cock might have a permanent companion and my eyes moistened at the unwelcome conjecture.
"Well, there's nothing for it, I suppose." He looked up at me and smiled gently at my distress. "Do not worry, pretty one. You won't have to suffer this for too much longer. I have an idea of how to relieve you, and I cannot honestly say that I have not welcomed just such an opportunity."
Before I could guess at his gist, he leaned forward and ran a surprisingly nimble tongue along the aching length of my shaft. I cried out at the exquisite sensation and rose to new heights of pained excitement as I understood just how I was to be liberated.