Lost

Chapter 20

Frustrated, Duncan looked into the mirror. He’d been trying to zip the riding skirt and had finally conceded his defeat. I’m so fat, out of shape...any fledgling with a sword could take my head at the first go... He shook his head in disgust and sorrow, aware that he wouldn’t be allowed to ride if he couldn’t wear the appropriate clothes. It’s the only thing I have left...I wonder if Louisa can let this out, he wondered knowing his own stitching skills stretched only to darning socks. Looking back to the mirror, he looked hard at his reflection...brown flared skirt, divided to let him ride, soft yellow blouse, sturdy boots...he looked like a reject from a 1960’s TV western. But beyond the clothes, he saw a soft, rounded figure, decidedly more feminine than masculine at this point...no hint of the firm musculature that he’d spent hours defining into a formidable fighter. Now the figure before him showed softened features surrounded by dark curls, broad shoulders disguised by a knowledgeable seamstress still emphasized full breasts, lending slimness to the waist that flared out to rounded hips. There’s a reason you avoid mirrors, fool. Depression tightened his chest forcing him to close his eyes and turn away from the mirror.

“Louisa, where’s Celeste...can she let this out in time for me to go riding today?” His eyes sought his companion. He hadn’t been riding in weeks and was desperate to get out. Louisa was busy picking up the discarded nightclothes but turned at her charge’s question.

“There’s no need, cherie, I have another set of clothes for you all ready...just a bit larger.” Her long-fingered hand waved weakly in the air before him as she moved closer to tug at Duncan’s waistband. “I’ve been replacing your clothes as they get a bit tighter, but I’m afraid I missed this one.” She turned and Duncan wondered just how many other sizes they expected him to go through before Andre was satisfied with his figure.

Louisa kept up her mindless chatter as Duncan changed his clothes. It seems Louisa had reached an impasse with her boyfriend, Gerard, who wanted to commit right away. Louisa was saving much of the generous money Andre paid her for her final sex-change operation, the bottom surgery.

“Louisa, you’d look beautiful as a bride now, before having the operation. Why wait?” Duncan truly enjoyed the young man’s company and already considered her a woman. The slender man/woman with mocha-colored skin and almond shaped eyes was a definite diversion from his own horrid existence and a source of contemplation at the parallels and divergences...both living a life far apart from the standard male role, one through choice and the other through force. Surprisingly, Louisa had also been raised by a stern and unforgiving father, but her’s was one who tried to force his son to be the man he envisioned and, failing that, disowned him. Louisa had not seen him in over five years.

“Because, my dear friend...I’m thinking not of the wedding but the wedding night!” Duncan blushed lightly at the mental picture that comment produced. He was grateful that Andre couldn’t take that last step, Duncan’s immortal healing making it impossible. Otherwise, he was sure Andre wouldn’t hesitate to take that last vestige of Duncan’s masculinity away, too.

Duncan was finally ready. He took the rear staircase to the back of the house and towards the stables. He idly noted his ‘shadows’ following him and knew that they’d radioed ahead so that Stefan, his riding shadow, would be ready and waiting. Andre called them guards but Duncan knew them for what they were...his jailers. And yet he knew them all. Most of them treated him respectfully and, sometimes, almost kindly. He thought about his new shadow. Young and good-looking, he was just as physically large as all of the other shadows but with one notable exception. He actually talked to Duncan. Oh, he wouldn’t hesitate to perform his duty but he seemed genuinely interested, or morbidly curious, about Duncan and his role in the Lacasse household. Like all the others he wouldn’t raise a finger to help Duncan escape regardless of what he personally felt about his imprisonment and treatment, but he at least was honest and open enough to want to get to know a little bit about Duncan himself, or the Duncan he used to be. Like all the shadows, he knew about immortality but never questioned that facet of Duncan’s existence, preferring to discuss the historical events Duncan had witnessed. He was also one of the few shadows who could keep up with Duncan while riding across the huge estate.

They’d been riding for more than two hours during which Duncan had given his version of the events at Culloden when they decided to rest the horses a bit. Duncan’s practiced eye took stock of the land, noting slight hills and ravines and the very beginning of changes in color signaling the beginning of fall. He again re-lived that moment when he’d run, escaping through the dense green brush. He pushed the memory away and thought about his fantasies instead which seemed to center more on the feel of running, something he desperately missed, rather than the belief he’d actually escape. As usual, the thought of going against Andre sent a slight shudder through him which, on top of their previous discussion, suddenly overwhelmed him with a feeling of despondency. Just as they had been then, he again felt outnumbered and outgunned...too few men, too few weapons, and the brutality of Butcher Cumberland. Only now it was Andre’s brutality. But as long as he could stand it, only he would suffer. But what sort of man will he be at the end of this chapter in his life?

He tied off his horse and moved to sit beneath a tree near his favorite spot while his horse nibbled delicately at a tuft of grass. Stefan had tied his horse next to Duncan’s and then moved to sit nearby. Duncan stared at the crumbling rocks around the ancient ruins. The old stones at the base of an ancient wall marked the site of the original estate. It was crumbling badly and would probably fall during one of the wind storms the area suffered although there were some ancient logs positioned in a vain effort to support the collapsing wall. From the number of rocks it seemed the main building had been sizeable but time and weather had taken their toll and all that remained was crumbling into dust. It was difficult to tell what it had been like in its heyday for what remained gave no indication of its former shape or size. Merely fallen rock to show what must have been a formidable structure before it caved in on itself, never to be what it once was. Just like me, Duncan thought.

“Madame, are you alright?” Stefan had noticed the slight trembling in the hands that tied off the filly. He’d also noticed the continued weight gain that rounded the frame of his charge making him, her he corrected, appear much more fragile. Questioning his employer’s choices never crossed his mind but he couldn’t imagine this individual battling with a sword for any length of time. “Perhaps we’ve ridden too far today?”

“I’m fine, Stefan.” Duncan looked at the skeptical face Stefan presented. “Immortals have very acute memories. I suppose I got caught up in my recollections.” How could he explain the fear that he’d never again be the man he’d always been, even after Andre released him? He had been a warrior, damnit, but he’d broken...he’d submitted. How could he go into battle against another immortal when he no longer believed in himself? The pain in his chest grew stronger as he felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes. Wonderful! Maybe if I break down and cry in front of my challenger, he’ll let me go purely out of pity...or disgust. A tear did finally leak out of the tightly clenched eyes.

“Madame!” Stefan was shocked to see a tear make its way down the attractive face, a protective pang shooting through him at the pain in the soft brown eyes. Instinctively, he moved forward and put his hands on the shaking shoulders. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Duncan couldn’t answer, but the moment Stefan placed his hands on his shoulders it was like a dam had let loose and Duncan was lost in a torrent of tears. Sobbing he covered his face with his hands and Stefan did the only thing he could...he held Duncan in his arms, rocking and soothing the dark curls until the worst of the torrent ceased.

“I’m sorry, Stefan. I don’t know what came over me,” Duncan’s breath hitched as he pulled himself away from the younger man, but he was grateful when Stefan produced a handkerchief from his pocket. Dabbing away at his tears, he turned away briefly to compose himself. It only took a few more moments but eventually Duncan stood up. “We’d better get back.” He looked down at the soiled handkerchief knowing he should keep it for laundering, but also knowing that if Andre’s keen eyes should see it there would be painful accusations. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t worry, Madame, it is only a handkerchief.” Stefan took the soiled handkerchief and shoved it in his pocket. “I’ll get the horses.” Stefan stepped away and returned, handing the reins to Duncan. Quietly, they returned to the estate.

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“Andre, what...have I....I done...?” panted Duncan as Andre pushed him harder into the wall. Andre’s response was to push Duncan’s legs further apart with his leg. With one hand firmly on the back of Duncan’s neck he used the other to rip the thin lace panty off of the lush, rounded bottom. The torn silk landed on the floor next to the shredded skirt and blouse.

It took all of Duncan’s will not to struggle or react to his fear, to keep his hands on the wall and to keep his body from automatically curling into as small a ball as possible due to Andre’s violence. All the while knowing that once he would have easily killed Andre in seconds not only for this instant, but for all the instants before, all the losses, for the life he was forced to live, but no more. He tried again, “Andre, why are you angry with me? What have I done?”

No words offered to explain the rough hand running up and down the crevice between Duncan’s buttocks, the hot breath against Duncan’s ear. The hand stopped a moment and moved up to Andre’s mouth, quickly wetting the fingers so that they could be pushed through the small ring of muscle, twisting and loosening more for Andre’s comfort than Duncan’s. Duncan felt both hands move to his hips in a bruising hold, forcing his cheeks apart to let that hated erection push against him to seek its blind entry. He tried to will his body to not react.

No words, no sounds except for the harsh breathing of the two men and the cry of pain from one as entry was attained. Pausing only a moment, Andre started pumping hard into Duncan, grunts punctuating the slap of his pelvis against Duncan’s ass. Duncan moaned as his body met its conditioned response...he grew hard as Andre’s cock rubbed against his prostate. Although loosened by Andre, the bindings still kept his erection firm against his belly making it ache with the restrictions.

Duncan’s shoulders were again pressed into the wall with one hand; Andre’s other hand still on his hip. His face turned to the side away from that hot breath gasping in his ear. “Keep your hands on the wall. Don’t move.” Duncan kept his eyes tightly shut as he forced himself to allow this rape. But was it rape when his body betrayed him this way?

Duncan felt a hot mouth latch onto his shoulder. Suddenly pain blossomed across his shoulder from a bite as Andre speared him with a violent thrust and then stilled momentarily before spasmodically jerking with a few final thrusts. Duncan felt a growing warmth blossoming low in his belly answered by his own growing heat. He heard the growled command and his body responded. His seed splattered over the loosened binding to drip down the wall. The hand on his hip continued to squeeze even tighter as Andre forced his seed into him and Duncan’s own body clenched and spasmed around the cock within him. As the spasms passed, Andre allowed his hands to loosen slightly. After a few more tired thrusts, Andre released Duncan and stepped back.

Duncan pushed himself away from the wall and turned around and saw his “husband” turned away from him and straightening his clothes. Impotent rage coursed through Duncan, but both men knew he wouldn’t lift a finger against this man. No matter what happened to Duncan, there was too much at stake and Duncan’s own incapacity for any form of retribution. Rather than look at Andre, Duncan stared at the floor.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs in the library,” ordered Andre as he walked out the door, leaving Duncan standing in the room, sickened with shame. Louisa came in as he picked up the tattered remains of his lingerie, Duncan looked at the small bit of cloth bundled in his fist in fury. Nothing was said as Louisa helped Duncan dress.

Clean and dressed, Duncan made sure he removed the telltale signs of his humiliation from the wall rather than let Louisa deal with his shame. Finished, Duncan moved down the staircase to the library while Louisa moved to the sitting room. The door opened just as Duncan reached it. He stepped in to see Andre and three of his shadows. Stefan was one of the three. Andre stood with his back to Duncan, anger evident in every line of his body. Fear began to coil in Duncan’s belly and he had to clasp his hands to still their trembling.

Slowly Andre turned and Duncan tried to force himself to stillness but still he flinched at the look in those eyes. Caught by the icy blue orbs, Duncan never saw the hand that swung in, backhanding him on the right side of his face and knocking him to the floor.

“Cheating whore!” The vicious snarl marred the big man’s face as he leaned over Duncan.

“Andre...what are you talking about? I’ve done nothing!” Duncan was totally taken aback by the accusation. What was happening? Andre raised his hand as though to strike again. Duncan raised his hands to ward off the expected blow, but none came. He looked up to see Andre gesture towards Stefan who’d remained quiet among the other shadows. All the men seemed to be looking at a point beyond the library walls.

“You fucking bitch! You spread your legs for that child!” Andre reached down and grabbed Duncan by the biceps, hauling him to his feet and ignoring the negative shakes of Duncan’s head. “Did you think to whore your way to an escape from me?”

“No, Andre, I swear...I haven’t done anything...” Tears overflowed from the wide chocolate eyes as fear and anger flooded through Duncan, pain beating a tattoo over his temples.

“You were both seen embracing today...was that before or after you wrapped your legs around him, you cunt?” Andre growled.

Duncan dared not glance over to Stefan. “Andre, please listen. Stefan was just being nice...I became sad while talking about some of my history.” No pride left, just the truth for Stefan’s sake. “I...I started to cry and he was just being nice, Andre. Nothing more happened.”

“Oh, so you embrace womanly ways when it benefits you to do so?”

Already disgusted with his own behavior, that comment cut through Duncan like a knife. He closed his eyes but not before Andre saw his reaction.

Pleased, Andre leaned into Duncan’s face. “It’s good that your statement agrees with what Stefan said. He’s a good man...but understand this...I won’t have my wife behaving like a slut!”

Humiliated, Duncan could only look down. “Yes, Andre.”

Shaking Duncan slightly, Andre continued. “And no other man will ever touch you, even in innocence. Do I make myself clear?” Andre looked back at his men. Emotionless, they all nodded their understanding. Stefan was stone-faced, an angry red crawling up his neck.

“Well then, my little wife,” Andre moved one hand up to grab a handful of dark hair. “I’ll ensure you have no more opportunities to practice your new-found feminine wiles on my unsuspecting staff. You will go nowhere unless you have your companion with you and I believe you can do without riding for awhile.”

Grateful that Andre wouldn’t punish Stefan, Duncan simply nodded meekly and again replied “Yes, Andre.”

Again pleased at the submissive behavior, Andre sent his men away without a glance. The men left quickly, closing the library door shut with a quiet click so the only sounds were Duncan’s small gasping breaths. Pulling painfully at the hair in his hand, Andre let the sound of Duncan’s small whimpers flow over him. It was time to remind his wife to whom it was she belonged. Without releasing Duncan’s hair, Andre turned and strode out of the room.

Not the basement, please, not the basement... Bent over, Duncan had to rush to keep up with his husband’s long strides but his relief was palpable as they turned to move upstairs rather than down. He struggled to keep his balance while keeping up with Andre’s furious pace as he crawled up the steps at Andre’s side, tears streaming down his face. He heard a door shut somewhere behind him and knew there were witnesses to this degradation.

His relief at going upstairs rather than to the basement was short-lived, though, as Andre entered the room and threw Duncan towards the bed.

“Take off your clothes.” Andre looked down, no expression as he unbuttoned his jacket and threw it to the side. Slowly he slipped the belt from his slacks.

Duncan looked up from where Andre had thrown him. Heart pounding he scrambled backwards. “Daddy…please…no…” Duncan could see the crinkles forming around the cold blue eyes and his stomach churned. He slid backwards until his back was against the bed but he knew there was no way out of this. Sobbing, he began unbuttoning his blouse.

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Louisa quietly closed the door, horrified at having seen her friend being dragged through the house by her hair. Plus she’d heard enough from the library to know that it had been unjustified. Stefan would never have betrayed their employer in that way, even if he did feel compassion for the Madame. Louisa also knew both Omar and Henri. They were decent men, too. Fury boiled in her chest. Why was her employer treating his wife this way? Sarah was a good person. There had to be some way in which she could help! She knew nothing of Sarah’s friends or family outside of the house...but there had been that one man at the wedding...the one with the interesting eyes. Sarah had said his name was Adam Pierson. Maybe she could find out where he lived...maybe he could help? But for now all she could do was wait. When her employer was finished, she’d be called to help Sarah. That much, at least, she could do for her friend.