For You I Suffer
As I stood contemplating all the trying forms my day of service could take, Trowa disappeared for a long moment, leaving me alone at the edge of the fields. I didn't bother plotting an escape; such thoughts were futile and not worth the effort of contemplation. Instead, I turned my attention to quelling my riotous pulse and calming the betraying flush that had sprung to my cheeks the moment that forest green gaze had fallen upon my exposed form.
Deep breaths and closed eyes to better picture my master's face went some ways toward accomplishing my goal. Yet all my exertions were undone in a moment when the gamekeeper returned, pulling behind him a contraption with which I suspected I was to become most intimate. The device was easily recognizable, the plow's design readily apparent to my farmer's eye. But rather than an affair to be operated by hand, it was of a type more typically employed with the aid of some willing beast.
As I spotted the assemblage of leather harnesses and straps that dangled from the gamesman's hand, I held no illusions as to who would be fulfilling the role of the absent creature. I turned away from him, closing my eyes to beg for strength. Not because I was worried that I would be unable to perform my duty; it was sure to be no more and likely less difficult than my turn as Quatre's horse upon the occasion of my first visit to this place. No, what caused my stomach to clench and my breath to catch in my throat was the memory of the gruff stable hand equipping me with the accoutrements necessary for me to act the part. And whereas my shock at the novelty of my new station and the no-nonsense manner with which I was fitted lessened the physical effects of the experience, I knew that this time I had no hope of remaining so sanguine.
For this was no busy stable hand who wished to be done with the frivolous task of outfitting the baron's slave. This was the man who from our very first meeting had made his designs upon me quite plain. I kept my eyes shut as I heard Trowa approach, glad only that my tumescent state, engendered by the refitting of the dildo that morning, could not get any worse and betray me any further.
"As is surely apparent, if you were once a planter yourself, my fields are in sore need of cultivation. Do I need to explain what I require of you?" His voice was soft and low and stroked languidly over my bared form. Further arousal was impossible, or the swelling of my cock would have given me away. I shook my head, not daring to speak, and awaited my torment.
The first touch of his fingers against my skin was expected, but nonetheless electrifying. He rested the pads of them against my shoulder and slowly traced them downward, over my back and flank. I nearly wept as my body trembled, my dwindling self control barely preventing me from spending myself into the rich, brown soil beneath my feet.
"It doesn't seem as if your time of leisure and idyll at the castle has softened you unduly. There's still a fair bit of strength left in you. That's good as it will ease your task considerably."
Trowa's speech was innocent enough, but the hand that continued to explore the dip of my lower back, dipping just far enough to brush against the upper curve of my ass, ruined his innocuous demeanor. But fortunately, it was those very words that saved me from dishonor. Idyll? As though my days at Windshire had been filled with nothing but pleasure and lazy ease. What did he know of the suffering I'd endured since coming into the baron's service?
The indignation that flared in my breast was enough to see me through the initial indignity of two, softly furred leather straps being laid over my shoulders. But then the gamesman reached around my chest to position a single, wider band, and when his insolent fingers brushed across the sensitive nubs at my chest, I once again fell prey to the accursed responsiveness which my master and trainer had so carefully instilled.
I gasped, helpless to stifle the sound, though I cursed myself for the betrayal. To Trowa's credit, he made no note of the hitch in my breath or the color which instantly rose within my fair skin. Yet neither was he unaware of the damnable effect he had on me. The large strap across my chest was adjusted and positioned until it lay to his liking and the caress of the soft fur against my entrapped nubs brought a scream to my throat. My fists curled at my side, an outward manifestation of the determination that I found so unable to exhibit. The gamekeeper attached the wide band to the smaller ones riding my shoulders by means of brightly polished metal rings. These fastened yet again to their larger counterpart at my back, a larger loop of gleaming iron settling between the prominent blades at my back.
A subtle nudge prompted me to stand with feet apart, and palms callused with honest toil ran up the length of my quivering legs to ensure the remained where bid. Trowa had knelt behind me to affix the next set of bindings and his breath wafted gently over the taut flesh of my hip. Another sturdy pair of fur-lined thongs, with two metal rings a piece, encircled the uppermost part of each thigh, the rings lying against both the fronts and backs of my legs, and the tops of them nestling maddeningly in the crease separating leg from buttocks.
I inhaled deeply and evenly, attempting to slow the rapid pace of my pulse as it pumped the blood ferociously through my veins and added to the agony of my engorged cock. But Trowa made a mockery of such attempts as he abandoned his place behind me to kneel at my feet. What miseries assailed me as I foolishly looked down at him! My clever gaze quickly measure the precise distance between my throbbing member and his lush mouth. Did I shuffle forward but a mere inch, his lips would be upon me. And the heavens help me I wanted them there to ease the ache that had take up permanent residence in my tortured shaft.
Instead I closed my eyes once more, filled my thoughts with my lord. But they were traitors to my heart, for I could not help but contrast the seductive attention the gamesman bestowed on me with my baron's cold rejection the night before. I started, my eyes growing wide at the disloyal notion and railed at myself for even allowing such a base conception to plague me.
But the truth demanded that I take heed and tears stung as I acknowledged my piteous need for affection. Though it came from an unwanted source, my body yearned toward it such that it was with the grossest of efforts that I managed to resist. I sobbed inwardly, begging my absent lord for his forgiveness. I was certain that none would be forthcoming in reality were he to know the depths of my depraved faithlessness, but in the realm of fantasy I retained hope. I would overcome this unholy attraction, deny the spurious pleasures of the flesh, and remain true to my master.
Ah, but the soft breath, which I had thought an enticement when it assaulted the flesh of my ass, had reached the heights of insidiousness as it brushed hotly over my twitching cock. My eyes flew open in pained shock and I glanced downward, expecting to see the dark intent to seduce reflected in the gamesman's handsome features. But Trowa was the consummate professional, none of my suspicious finding purchase in his expressionless visage.
Yet more straps were attached to the underside of the wide binding about my chest and were positioned to run down the length of my front from the bottom of my ribcage, over the sides of my stomach, taut with the strain of self-denial, and past the bones of my hips until they reached the leather circumscribing each thigh. The fastening of hooks ensured they would not slip and then he was gone, moving away from me to retrieve the plow and I just barely kept my posture, my knees having turned to liquid and threatening to dump me to the ground.
Perhaps he'd finally had enough of sporting with my sanity, for Trowa secured the plow to the large loop at my back and the smaller ones at the backs of my thighs. Thus I was trussed, ready to begin my first day of honest work since arriving at Windshire. The very weight of the familiar tool calmed me, easing the rasping breath that stung my throat, and my thoughts gratefully turned to the memories of my parents' farm when the thought of the debaucheries which I'd eagerly embraced of late would never have occurred to my humble mind. When at last he spoke, the gamekeeper's tone was enviously composed, and I found myself wondering contrarily if I'd even affected him at all.
"The entirety of the field needs tending," he said, taking my loose hair in hand before twisting it up into a haphazard knot atop my head and using a final piece of leather to keep the dressing in place. "I expect a thorough job so that it need not be repeated." His tone, soft spoken and unaffected as ever, sounded quietly in my ear, stroking even that part of me as did the fingers which slipped lightly over the nape of my bared neck. Tremors regained their hold in my body, and I desperately blamed my shivers on the suddenly cooling of the wind as a large cloud hid the sun.
"You understand what it is I want of you," he said as his hands fell away. But even the lack of contact did not save me. It wasn't a question that he posed. The statement, barely more than whisper, caressed me and spurred my well-tutored lust. Indeed I did know, as he'd made no secret of the nature of his designs. It was that certainty of knowledge more than any desire to fulfill my task that urged my feet into motion. I fled from him as best I could with the solidly constructed plow trailing in my wake and the dildo pressed firmed against my most sensitive places bedeviling my steps. The heat of Trowa's gaze remained a physical weight against my back for a long moment, until the hushed stirring of fallen leaves told me that I was at last alone.
After the gamesman disappeared, I found myself facing the wide expanse of untilled soil. An acute feeling of foolishness assailed me and I quickly slowed my hasty steps. What, after all, did I really have to fear? Yes, certainly I found his obvious interest in me disquieting and my own seeming attraction for the reticent gamekeeper. But what did any of that matter if I never acted on the silent offer that glittered in Trowa's hooded gaze? Nothing. Nothing at all.
My heartbeat began to return to more a restful pace, the firm resolve that had seen me through thus far returning to bolster my flagging spirits. Trowa was merely a distraction from what should be the sole focus of all my thoughts and efforts. The only thing that need concern me is how to once again return to the coveted position of Heero's beloved pet.
I pulled the plow back and forth across the plot with deliberation, making certain that the furrows I left as I passed were straight and deep enough to hold and nourish the seeds that would soon follow. Though I had no desire to remain at the gamekeeper's cottage any longer than necessary, I would not be accused of performing substandard work. It was a matter of pride, both as a farmer myself and as someone who wanted to please the true lord of this land.
So my thoughts turned, as they inevitably did, to the baron. What was he doing right now at this moment? Was he proving his skill at the hunt to the arrogant Slaburry ambassadors? I imagined how he might appear, dark-blue gaze steel with focus, jaw set with determination, hand sure about the hilt of his sword. Or was it with a bow and arrow that he culled the wildlife that thronged Windshire's forests?
The lonesome monotony of the work and the bent of my musings led my imagination down several wild paths. My mind wandered as I tilled the soil, and I dreamed that I was one of the beasts that Heero was endeavoring to run to ground. I flitted amongst the trees, for all purpose and appearance trying desperately to escape. But in truth I taunted and teased, seducing him with my nakedness and the wanton looseness of my hair. I ran into a particularly dense patch of undergrowth, forcing him at last to abandon his mount and to pursue me on foot. And when he finally captured me, or rather when I let myself be trapped in a secluded copse hidden amongst the thick foliage, he held me down and claimed me like the hard won prize I was.
I was engrossed utterly in my fantasy, in the minute detail of my master's skin as it glistened with honest sweat, with the precise gleam in his eyes as he proclaimed his mastery, at the overwhelming sensation as he took me with powerful thrusts on the sunlight dappled grass. It was only as I heard the rapid approach of hooves that I realized I was hard and throbbing and that my entire body was beaded with sweat. Blinking the tantalizing images from my eyes, I saw that I had managed to turn every bit of dirt in the pasture during my distracted state.
Looking in the direction of the approaching rider, I sighed as I recognized the shining gleam of Quatre's hair. I had survived my duty and had even wrenched some pleasure out of it, but I had come no closer to a solution for breaching the wall that Heero had erected between us. The soothing familiarity of my afternoon of husbandry had gone someway to firm my will. Whatever I had done to earn my baron's ire, surely I could mend it. Then I could once again lie at his feet and cherish him even as I was cherished in return. My sole purpose was to live for his pleasure and his alone, and I'd never been one to shirk an obligation.
I returned to the yard that stretch before Trowa's home, walking along the edges of the field so as not to damage my work with the trailing plow. My trainer was already there waiting for me, as was the caretaker. I avoided Trowa's gaze, simply out of respect and certainly not out of any concern on my part. Or at least that's what I told myself. What I couldn't control was the stupid tightening in my gut as the plow was taken away and the harnesses removed with slow, purposeful care.
With Quatre looking on, Trowa dared not take the same liberties with me as he had upon binding me with the leather straps. Yet still he somehow managed to caress what seemed every inch of me, and the ache in my cock spurred on by my own torrid imagination was far from subsiding when he finally stepped away.
"Duo, you looked as though you've enjoyed your day of labor!" Quatre chuckled as his own joke and I smiled with affectionate politeness. I wondered at his assessment, though. Perhaps he had mistaken the flush in my cheeks for the satisfaction that oft comes with physical exertion when in fact a far less wholesome source had born it. But I was content to let him persist in his error, as I considered returning to the castle and leaving the gamesman's alluring sphere a more pressing charge.
We left Trowa shortly thereafter, he and my trainer sharing a few pleasantries before we parted ways. I was content to let them speak, having nothing to add to the conversation and knowing it was not my place to do so in any case. Though loathe to admit it, my time at Windshire had somewhat compromised my strength, and I had tired considerably from the day's toil. Quatre kept us at a steady pace as we rode back to the castle and the gently shifting gate of the horse, the warmth of the setting sun, and the softness of the breeze all conspired to lull me into a profound state of drowsiness.
But as Windshire's outer wall came into sight, the prospect of seeing Heero after nearly an entire day caused a stir low in my belly and a quickening of my heart which swiftly brought me back to wakefulness. It was with a relief and a sense of homecoming that I slipped off the horse from behind Quatre and onto the ground. For once, my nakedness seemed a most natural state, as though it had always been so and thus need not be questioned.
My steps fell easily as I followed my trainer through the bustling courtyard, where farmers packed up their wares after a day of selling and stable hands rounded up mounts from visiting nobles who would spend the evening dining in splendor with the cream of the baronetcy. I wondered if Heero had returned from his hunting trip. I did not ask, figuring Quatre would tell me in his own good time, and I was forced to employ patience when I was led first to the baron's regretfully empty chamber for a meal and a bath.
I tucked eagerly into the hearty repast, honest labor having sharpened my hunger. But the novelty of the situation finally served to loosen my tongue.
"Will I not be dining with the baron this eve?" I asked around a mouthful of warm, fragrant bread. My handler chuckled at what he called my charming lack of table manners.
"No, I'm afraid. Heero and the delegates actually return nearly an hour before we arrived and I'm sure they've already had their meal. Since neither of us was certain of his schedule today, what with the vagaries of a hunting party, he suggested that I let you dine at your leisure."
I nearly choked on the suddenly dry bread and was saved only by a quickly swallowed gulp of wine. The explanation and reasoning were sound enough, but my foolish heart only allowed me to hear that I had been shunned yet again. I was a mere inconvenience to my lord's schedule and deserved no special accommodation. I ducked my head to reach for a slice of roasted beef, though it turned to sand upon my tongue. My willful mind echoed with the knowledge that my master was obviously none to eager to grace me with his presence. Would the entire night pass thus? Would I, for the first time since my arrival, actually go an entire day without seeing him?
The fretful though stayed with me through the end of the meal, which I forced myself to eat so that Quatre would have no reason for comment. In truth the excellent food sat heavily in my stomach and I'd have sooner gone without. If Helen noticed my distraction when she came to tend to me, she kindly made no mention. Her care was familiar by now and her attentions caused me nary a blush, even when she noted with a chuckle that I was still hosting the largest of my dildos though its part had already been played. My mind wandered as I was bathed and brushed, and I tried futilely to resign myself to the possibility that, that night, I might very well sleep alone.
The very prospect terrified me! Even without the security of his embrace, I'd found that I craved even the warmth of my master's body in the bed beside me. The sound of his breath lulled me to sleep and the solidity of his presence silenced my fears. However would I manage alone?
By the time Helen pronounced me fit for company, I had worked myself into a state of quiet frenzy. I was certain that I would be left alone to flounder upon the baron's sprawling mattress and to be smothered by the baron's luxurious bedding. So you might imagine my profound relief when the outer door, rather than the portal to the bedchamber was the destination to which Quatre directed me.
I called myself all kinds of fool as my bare feet passed soundlessly over the cool stone lining the castle's passageways. Of course I was not to be left forgotten in some corner like a child's abandoned toy. Heero had gone through much effort and expense to bring me to Windshire to serve him, and surely I would be given every opportunity to just that. It was senseless to make me wait for him if I were to return to Windshire before him, and it was equally absurd – if not more so – for him await me if the opposite proved to be true, as it had indeed. The both of us had spent our days in physical exertion, and if Heero's appetite had been the fraction of mine when he returned from the hunting trip, I did not in the least begrudge him to desire to satisfy it and without delay.
Thus employing the common sense my mother had blessed me with, my mood had lightened considerably by the time Quatre and I reached the impressively carved door of the baron's study. I had spent much time in this room, lazing by his side on my lovely, velvet pillow, content to gaze upon my master as he worked to secure Calderash's future prosperity. The study had come to seem somewhat like a second home and I was restless with anticipation as the duty guard pulled on the heavy brass rings to grant us entrance.
As the door opened, I heard voices inside the room, as did Quatre for he paused at the entrance so as not to intrude. One I easily identified as belonging to Heero, and it had its accustomed affect on the pace of my heart. But the other took more effort to place. The haughty tone was pleasant, if more than a little arrogant, but it was the slight Slaburry accent which gave its owner away.
"I have been most patient, my dear baron," Treize Kurenada was saying with mellifluous condescension. "But my tolerance for these trifling excuses is running short. Have I not upheld my end of our agreement? Signing your little treaty though Slaburry hardly has use for any trade connection between us."
I found my hand twitching at my side with the urge to slap away the smugness that had certainly take up residence on his handsome features.
"I won't countenance any more delays, my lord Yuy." The ambassador's urbane tone slipped just enough for the steel in his voice to become apparent.
"Be that as it may," Heero replied shortly, "I have other promises and obligations to satisfy which, I'm afraid, take precedence over your claims." I heard Treize inhale sharply through his nose at the ill-concealed slight, but the young baron pressed on as though unconcerned with the potential consequences for his rashness.
"As I've tried to explain, your patience will be soon rewarded. He is sure to be better for this experience."
I could barely begin to decipher the cryptic comment, but as we entered the study, Quatre apparently having decided that it was proper to do so, I found myself the object of two piercing gazes, one the deep richness of sherry, the other as unfathomable as the sea, both equal in the precision of their focus upon me.
It was then that I realized the "he" of whom Heero has spoken was none other than myself, and my breath grew short as I awaited my fate.