“A bit,” he said in the end. After all, it didn’t really matter much what Jack thought about all this; Reuben had learned until now that the boy wouldn’t help much, even if he had the best of intentions. He was too worried about his own life.
Jack sighed, his face a bit tense, and Reuben felt obliged to soothe him.
“Don’t worry, Jack. I’m a big boy, learned a lot since I was brought here.”
But it didn’t seem to work. Jack’s eyes were still firmly on the floor. “I should... I am your groom, and it’s not right for him to be a brute if you’re good.”
“I don’t think he knows any better." Reuben shrugged, avoiding Jack’s gaze. "He likes it that way."
Jack frowned as he gestured for him to get into the tub. “It isn’t good to follow good deeds with punishment, any trainer knows that. Maybe he would understand it if I put it like that.”
Reuben’s lungs clenched. “Please don’t tell him, Jack! He would beat me!” If Erik thought Reuben hated what they did, he’d surely be sent away, back into the gutter and away from Erik’s gentle hands.
Jack bit his lip with a sad, tense expression. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault he’s like that.”
Jack swallowed, looking away, but he eventually reached for the sponge. “As much as I am thankful for what he did for me, I can’t overlook his cruelties towards the stallions.”
“You were the one who said he could do as he pleased...” Reuben sank lower into the water.
Jack snorted. “Because he can.” There was something definitely off about his mood today. Was this conversation still about last night? Jack soaped up the sponge and used it to gently wash sweat off Reuben’s skin.
“He seems well respected in Bylondon.”
Jack shook his head. “He’s not respected, exactly. Everyone knows what he does, but he is an important figure, being a Dal, and the greatest forger around. Perhaps in all of Britain.”
Reuben swallowed. “He only got called out on it once.”
“By someone very foolish.” Jack looked up, tight-lipped. “Our master, he might be good if we please him, but those who don’t, he hangs in the dining room.”
“I think, sometimes, that it’s his eyes. Like there’s a normal person and a demon in him.” Reuben gave in to the fingers massaging his back. Only now was he feeling the strain of the day. It seemed he was ‘giving in’ to a lot of things these days.
“Which one'd you think made him kill Chestnut?” Jack sighed, his hands stilling on Reuben’s body. “It was a year ago today.”
Despite feeling sorry for his predecessor, Reuben couldn’t stomach the idea of someone hurting Erik. “What exactly happened? Chestnut... he attacked our master?”
“He did, but how can you blame him. He was being used against his will,” whispered Jack.
Reuben slouched in the tub, lowering his eyelids as warmth took the soreness away. That much was true. He himself enjoyed the kind of treatment Erik offered, after learning about it and getting used to the shackles, but what if he didn’t? Erik probably still suspected him of pretending, so he could get more than he deserved. On his first day at the mansion, Reuben hadn't been questioned about preferences. Erik had plowed him until it hurt, as if Reuben really were an animal that just needed to be tamed. With Erik’s cock. If Reuben didn’t get his secret pleasures from the treatment, he would have probably considered Erik a foul, cruel man with no regard for other human beings.
“I suppose. He must have been braver than me.”
“He was a strong, proud man.” Jack hid behind Reuben’s back under the pretense of washing his hair.
“How did he cope?”
Jack sighed, proceeding with the usual routine. “Anger. Often, he would be angry at me as well...” he trailed off, his movements ceasing for a second.
“Because of the grooming?” Reuben gulped.
“That as well... I think he resented the way I looked at him, but at the time... I didn’t know any better,” whispered Jack.
Reuben frowned and turned to face him. “What did you do?”
The boy swallowed, averting his eyes. “Nothing. I was just... so infatuated.”
“And he didn’t like it.”
Jack bit his lips, his face getting darker. “Depends.”
“Jack, spill it.”
The boy cringed. “We were... intimate at times.” He dropped the sponge into the water, covering his face as he let out a choked sigh.
“God.... Did Erik know?” Reuben stared at him with parted lips. It was unbelievable.
The boy just shook his head, pressing his balled fists against his eyes. There was a tension around his lips, as if he was trying to regain control but kept failing.
“Oh Jack. And Chestnut let you do it?”
“He... no...” Jack dropped his hands, looking at Reuben with reddened eyes. “I let him have me.”
“And you were the one saying servants aren’t allowed to touch the slaves.” Reuben gave him a disapproving look.
Jack let out a broken sob, curling up, with a long wail. “He—he wanted it...”
“But he didn’t want Erik?” Reuben’s own words sounded harsher than he would have wished, but he needed to understand what happened.
Jack flinched. “He didn’t want to be ridden.”
“Oh. That seems an important part of Erik’s likes.” Reuben swallowed. “Will you take the cuffs off me?”
“I don’t want another pony...” Jack squeezed the fabric of his pants.
Reuben opened his eyes wider. “I’m not offering.” What was this boy thinking?
“Good.” Jack didn’t hesitate anymore and dunked his hands in the water to unshackle Reuben.
“So you’re saying Chestnut fought the treatment every time?” Reuben pulled the boy into a wet hug the moment his arms were free. Jack seemed to need more support than the person he was supposed to be taking care of. And just as expected, he broke down in sobs.
“It was so horrible, Copper, he was so angry with me...”
“Why with you?” Reuben petted his hair.
Jack sniffed, his little body shaking as he clung to Reuben’s wet chest. “Erik was... un... touchable...”
“But that’s not your fault.”
“Didn’t matter... he... I got hit sometimes.” Jack’s eyes were teary when he looked up at Reuben. “I knew he hated it, and he hated me, but I still loved him.” Jack squeezed his eyes shut, two huge drops falling down into the water.
“Oh, silly boy.” Reuben sighed, trying to give Jack the same peace as Jack gave him the night before.
“I know. I was so naive.” Jack sniffed, curling his shoulders as if he wanted to shrink. If it weren’t for the tub between them, he’d probably end up in Reuben’s lap. “He changed at some point, started to be nicer about Erik. I thought he fell in love with him.”
“Wait!” Reuben blinked faster. This made no sense. “He hated him but then... he fell in love anyway?”
Jack shook his head. “No, he was pretending so that Erik trusted him... And then he attacked—and died....” He trailed off, the sorrow on his face clear as fresh spring water.
Reuben gently stroked his arm. ‘Died’. As if Chestnut just fell to the ground and stopped breathing, not got his neck broken by Hans’s freakishly strong arms. With this knowledge though, Reuben could sort of understand why Erik was so particular about having a body guard and restraining a slave. “Did you know he was planning the attack?” he whispered.
Jack shook his head, and his tear-filled eyes shot up at Reuben. “Please, don’t do anything stupid. He will grow tired of you, eventually. I’m sure of it!” he protested.
It was as if a sharp needle pierced his heart, but Reuben quickly put on the mask he wore for the world. A captive trying to cope with the horrendous situation he was in. But the ruby stud in his ear reminded him of just how much he didn’t want Erik to grow tired of him. “I’m sure of it too,” he said and kissed the side of Jack
’s head.
The boy sighed, leaning against Reuben, and his body was slowly getting back to normal. “You are amazing, Copper, so strong. And you don’t even find me repulsive.”
“No, you’re a sweet boy. You always do your best to take care of me.” There was one person Reuben did find repulsive, though: a man who couldn’t face the truth about himself, a man who couldn’t even face being called by his own name anymore.
Chapter 2
Frey Dal’s study looked nothing like Erik’s. Located at the heart of a mansion no less affluent as Bluefinger's, it was protected by a steel door that was almost as thick as the length of Reuben’s forearm. There were no windows, and even with all the copper and crystal lamps lit, the tall, two story room seemed dim at best, bathed in a yellow glow. In comparison to Erik’s office, this one seemed gloomy, with its blood red walls and dramatic black furniture. Their shape reminded Reuben of the decorative ornaments he’d seen all around London, even of the Parliament with its sharp, vertical lines and numerous spikes. Around the circular room stood four life-sized silver statues depicting large-bosomed naked women. From the words carved on the socles, he understood they depicted the seasons, and they did in fact hold adequate attributes.
Behind a massive desk were the first steps of a narrow staircase that spiraled around the room, leading to an open gallery above them. Bookshelves covered its wall, and even the outer side of a partially open door on the highest level of the room. Erik looked up at Reuben from where he sat on a fainting couch in front of the desk. There was a dark red stain on the grey upholstery right next to him, and Reuben wondered whether it was blood or a splatter of wine.
“Don’t you want to rest, Copper?”
“May I kneel, Master?” Reuben asked. He was in his leather outfit, as he’d brought Erik to the mansion in a rickshaw. After over a week, he was getting the hang of it and even experimented with how fast he could go. The horse mask stayed downstairs with the vehicle, but with Erik’s protection and his body covered, Reuben didn’t feel as intimidated as he usually was around Frey.
“By all means, my dear.” Erik patted his thigh in clear invitation.
Reuben went to his knees and put his chin on Erik’s thigh. Today, his hair was tied into many small ponytails that stood up high on his head. His master’s hand was gentle on his freshly shaved skin, fingers slowly teasing his ear. Things were good between them again, and Reuben found himself craving Erik’s attentions.
“Master, why is the door as thick as if this were a dungeon?” he asked and casually kissed the ghastly fingertips.
Erik chuckled. “It’s his own prison. My brother is too scared to sleep, you see. That’s his bedroom up there.” He nodded at the door high above them. “He has many enemies, so he had those two rooms made with steel walls a foot thick and then built the rest of the house around it. And then had all the men who worked on this vault’s ventilation killed.” Erik’s tone was carefree, even though Reuben knew his master had many enemies as well. Maybe Erik was just more courageous than his brother?
“So he is the only one who knows how to get in or out?” Reuben asked. Even after over a month spent with Erik, he was still terrified by these kinds of ruthless people.
Erik’s mouth curled into a pout. “The only one to know how to lock it, how to escape, and how to block the airflow and suffocate any man who locks himself in here.” He smiled. “But he’s not the only one to know most of those books aren’t real. And if some of them are, they are full of cunt.”
“Huh? Books?” Reuben frowned and rubbed his chin against Erik’s thigh. It was pleasantly hard, even if slim.
“The ones above us. He keeps them for show, but my brother had always preferred daggers and piano wires to paper.” Erik sighed, leaning down to press a kiss to Reuben’s sensitive scalp.
“Oh. Right. He doesn’t look like a someone who knows letters, but... full of cunt?”
Erik burst out laughing. “His books might be full of cunt, but in real life it’s the cunts that are full of Frey.”
“So they’re... picture books?” Reuben looked up at the lines of bookshelves. How many could there be? It almost looked like there could be as many as there were ants in a colony he’d once discovered in the backyard of the bakery. He and his father had caught as many as possible and ground them into the flour.
“Some of them are, but there is something much more interesting behind their backs.” Erik lowered his voice, looking straight at Reuben with those hypnotizing eyes. “Can you keep a secret, my Copper?”
“Oh, yes, Master!” His heart pounded at the thought of Erik entrusting him with something important. Erik’s grin convinced him his enthusiasm showed on his face.
“Seal the promise with a kiss.”
Reuben arched up to kiss Erik without hesitation and then sucked on his upper lip for a second, never breaking eye contact. He felt proud when he heard a whimper break from Erik’s throat.
“Above the desk, on one of the shelves is a book about the Third Seville War, about a slave uprising against the ancient Romans.” Erik raised his hand, roughly indicating the volume he meant. “When pulled halfway out of the shelf, it opens a secret passage to London. My brother doesn’t know I know.” He chuckled like a mischievous child.
“I will never tell anyone,” Reuben promised with a smile.
“I sure hope so, because if you did, Frey’d have us both killed,” Erik told him casually.
“Even you? Aren’t you too important?” Reuben nuzzled his knee.
“Not as much as his pathetic life.” Erik opened his mouth as if to say something more, but stilled when they heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
Reuben stayed where he was, but he tensed up and looked to the door. It opened with a quick swing and in came Frey, just like Reuben remembered him: tall, intimidating, and cold. Even the fine midnight blue coat didn’t make him seem more gentile.
“You will dine with us, won’t you, Erik?” he asked, walking past the fainting couch, but his impassive expression quickly turned into a scowl as soon as he spotted Reuben. “For God’s sake, what is this fucktoy of yours doing here? Couldn’t you leave him with my servants like you always do?”
Erik didn’t even flinch. “I could, but I didn’t wish to.”
Reuben found it hard to fight a smile at those words. He even straightened his back a bit more, looking at Frey without fear.
Frey rolled his eyes. “Can it at least stop staring? I’m not in the mood to argue about this.”
Erik sighed. “Fine. Copper, look at me only. Can you do that?” he asked, lovingly cupping Reuben’s face.
“Yes, Master.”
“Oh, Erik.” Frey shook his head while walking to his desk. “Do I really deserve this? Of all people, why does my brother have to be the biggest deviant I know?” He rubbed his forehead and sank into a chair.
Erik frowned, gently massaging the hairy top of Reuben’s head, sending sparkles of pleasure under the leather covering all of Reuben’s body. “I don’t know why. Maybe you should find some new friends in Bedlam to lift that burden off your chest?”
Frey shrugged. “I was just trying to be honest. So, are you staying for dinner?”
Reuben was only looking at Erik or to the floor, but he could still see Frey from the corner of his eye. The man seemed in a better mood than during their first encounter. Or he was just trying to be sweet to Erik to butter him up for something.
“Only when you let my pony dine with us.”
“Can’t he just stay under the table or something? Wouldn’t you like that?” Frey couldn’t suppress a laugh that made Reuben’s smile falter.
Erik shook his head. “I am well aware you never had any interest in studying nature, but it’s still striking you don’t know a horse cannot live on his master’s seed alone.”
“Uh, that is disgusting. You don’t want him to sit at the table, like an actual person, right?” Frey started shuffling through some papers on his desk.
/> “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Reuben knew Erik had only said that just to piss his brother off. Still, the mere thought of being at the table with people who knew their way around all the fancy tableware made Reuben nervous. Where he was now, at least he knew his place and could relax, knowing Erik would take care of things. But at a dinner table? Even if Frey wasn’t the most refined of men, how would he cope? Would he be expected to talk?
Frey went silent, and the rustling of papers stopped. “Oh, do you?” he said after a moment. “Do you want a servant to fetch some clothes for him?”
“Why? He’s dressed just as I am.”
“He’s wearing a fucking tail, Erik.”
“Think of it as a fashionable accessory, and maybe you could borrow the idea for your wives.”
“I’ve heard enough of this,” hissed Frey and slammed his hand on the table. “You do whatever filth you want with that slave of yours, but you do not talk about my wives like that.”
“Well, then don’t take so many liberties when talking about my stallion.” Erik got up from the fainting couch and walked over to a black and red screen. He folded it, revealing a set dining table.
“Should I stand up, Master?” Reuben asked from the floor, avoiding Frey’s eyes. The man must have really needed something from Erik to tolerate this much. Reuben was also lost by the idea that Frey had more than one wife, but then again, it was Bylondon.
“Yes, come with me.”
Frey looked up at Reuben with a deep scowl and shook his head. “Just don’t let it talk to my wives.”
Reuben approached Erik without a word, his gaze cast down to the floor. Even when dressed, it felt degrading to be talked to like that. Erik’s hand on his face came almost as a surprise.
“What is it, my darling?”
“What should I do?” Reuben whispered, uncomfortable with the whole situation. “What are the rules?” It was the only thing that came to his mind. Not having guidelines was unnerving.
“Be polite and listen only to me. I will keep you out of harm’s way,” Erik promised, gently tracing his thumbs over Reuben’s cheekbones before rising to his toes to kiss him.
Pride (The Copper Horse book 2) (gay erotic romance pony play BDSM) Page 4
