Remy led me through the door near the fireplace, into a classically gilded bathroom. Marble tile ran right up to a huge sunken bath. A shower stall that could easily fit twenty people (and probably did at times, I suspected) stood against the far wall. There was an arched entrance on the left wall through which I could see cherry wooden cabinets topped by a marble surface. A mirror framed in a golden Romanesque support hung above the countertop.

As I stood there for a moment mesmerized by the water running from the two ornate faucets arching over the tub, Remy pushed me toward it with a light slap to my rear, bringing me out of my thirsty daze. "Get in." He ordered. I stepped down onto a wide porcelain bench into the warm fragrant water, restraining the urge to place my head under one of the faucets and drink until my stomach burst. Wading to the far corner of the bath, I sank down onto another bench and watched Remy warily. He gave me an encouraging but sly smile and dropped his robe as seductively as a woman. But what was revealed underneath left no doubt he was a man. Long boned, slender at the hips, hardened rosy nipples and a light speck of russet hair along his chest that ran like a V toward his groin. His cock was half engorged, long and thicker than I'd expected. (Not that I'd tried to dwell on the subject too often). I shuddered inwardly at the thought of him trying to pierce me with it.

Remy came toward the tub slowly, carefully, as if to assess my reaction to his body. And, I imagine, to allow me an agonizing drawn-out look. But I kept my eyes on his face, only noting his body in my periphery. More than a glance downward might have caused me to salivate from the thirst and hunger pangs I continued to experience. If he'd only get on with it, I thought irritably, so that I could get some real food and drink like he'd promised.

After he'd gracefully entered the water, Remy tapped a tile at the nearest corner and a small shelf emerged out of the wall of the tub filled with toiletries: a small selection of shampoos, conditioners, oils, soaps, sponges and wash clothes.

"Come here." He gestured to the shelf and the bench beside it. Sighing, I pushed up off my seat and reluctantly went to him. Remy instructed me to sit with my legs spread up on the bench. Then he snuggled down between my thighs as if he had every right to be there. Arrogance oozed from him like the beads of water dripping from the ends of his hair. I lifted my hands in the air, letting them hang for the moment as if loathed to touch him, while he settled his body back against my chest. Thankfully the water seemed to ease the throb in my cock, making Remy's form seem lighter though his spine pressed up against my erection.

Closing his eyes in contentment he said, "Wash me." I hesitated and so he added, "Start wit' de hair, cher, and work your way down." Remy looked back up at me mischievously. "Surely you've done dis before." He winked at me as if we shared a secret, then rested his head back down on my shoulder. "Dere's a shower nozzle under de shelf."

I dropped my hands and searched for it, tugging it roughly from its dock. There was a button on the side of the spout, and pointing it out over the tub, I pushed it, testing the pressure. It sprayed with just a gentle mist so I aimed it at Remy's head and began stroking his hair with my free hand, helping the water to soak in.

Of course I'd done this before. I'd often washed Jean's hair. It was one of my favorite things to do. She had a gorgeous mane, thick and silky. I never told her out loud, but one of my secret turn-ons was brushing that mane. I'd whine and complain whenever she asked me to do it, but she knew even in the back of my bitching that I liked performing the little chore and so she asked often. I hated the feelings that stirred in me as I ran my fingers through Remy's locks. He had almost the same texture as Jean, just a little coarser but not by much. I took pleasure in the sensation of the strands against my fingertips and was aroused by the intimacy. But I was angry at myself for finding the experience so enticing.

Then it dawned on me that perhaps in his arrogance, Remy had let his guard down. I was a match for him strength wise. One violent push and I could force his head underwater, keeping it there until his eyes bulged and the life drained out of him. Could he access that charm of his before he lost consciousness? Or would the terror of the moment deprive him of the concentration he needed to persuade me to let him loose? Maybe he'd tap into that kinetic power, charging the collar around my neck and blowing my head off. Or worse, charge the ring around my penis. All these thoughts circled around my head at once, both tempting and terrifying, and my hand stopped in its path across his scalp.

I nearly jumped when he spoke, casually but with an edge of warning. "I know what you're t'inking, mon ami. You could kill me now, eh?" I looked down into those scarlet eyes laced with lust and a hint of danger, my own eyes widened in surprise. Was he a telepath? Had he kept that knowledge from us all those years he'd been on the team? Or was he just making an accurate assumption, thrilled by the rush, knowing I wanted to murder him and gambling his life I wouldn't?

"Yeah." I answered honestly.

"You could, Scott." His tone remained calm and casual as if he were merely discussing the weather. "You might even make it to de portal before Henri found me. But I doubt you could make it in time to get your baby brot'er from de slave quarters."
I frowned, wondering what he was hinting at. Then he told me. "Dey'd execute him immediately. He's your brot'er after all. All de guards know it. Dey'd expect him to be in on de kill. Someone has to pay for de king's murder."

Remy looked down into the water, swirling it sensuously with one long finger. "So you 'ave to ask yourself, homme, am I a gambling man? Would I bet de life of my only brot'er to kill Remy Lebeau?"

The silence was a roar in my ear, pressing heavily against my senses. My hand became rigid on the top of Remy's head and the water sprayed aimlessly into the tub. All of a sudden I could hardly think and my mouth felt even drier than before. That was the weakness Alex had spoken about. That was what Remy held over me, my brother's life. No, I wouldn't gamble his life. This palace was a maze. I had no idea where the portal room was. I had no idea where my brother was. And once the guards were alerted to Remy's bloated corpse one flick of the control box and I'd be stopped dead in my tracks. Freedom depended on how long it took for the murder to be discovered.

And then I remembered the guards at the door. From what I'd seen of the bedroom and this bathroom there was only one way out. I abruptly inhaled. Unless I wanted to fight my way out past those guards and most likely die during the battle, I'd have to wait for a better opportunity.

But would I kill Remy even then? I wanted to. The image of my hands around his throat, his eyes wide with terror, the water pouring into his gaping mouth as he struggled, was heady. But my respect for life, even his sorry hide, and even to the point of my own humiliation, was too ingrained. Had I wanted the man dead I would have already succumbed to the temptation of drowning him. No, I wouldn't murder him, as much as I wanted to. What I was really looking for was a chance to escape.

After a time that felt endless, Remy lifted my hand from his head in a self-assured manner and placed it to his lips. The kiss was swift, tugging at the skin just above the vein, belying the threat and speaking volumes. When he let go, I placed it against his forehead and went back to work. He wriggled in satisfaction, so trusting of my nature and his portentous words.

Biting my tongue on the curses at its tip, I scowled. He was sure of himself and I hated his affectation, but I continued to soak his hair, unable to do anything other than what he ordered. When his mane was thoroughly wet, I reached over to the shelf and brusquely grabbed a bottle of shampoo, taking my wrath out on the inanimate object, squeezing the plastic until it nearly burst. But as I began to lather the auburn locks, my ire receded and my mind drifted as I imagined Jean's hair beneath my fingertips. Thankfully, Remy was blessedly quiet as I raked his scalp gently. No sounds intruded on my daydream and I took my time, stroking and massaging, my nails scratching lightly. On occasion he'd shiver, but even then I could imagine it was my wife, the love of my life enjoying the shampoo.

Eventually reality came crashing down when Remy opened his eyes and looked up at me sleepily. "Dat's nice cher," He said with a lazy intonation, "but I t'ink it's time to rinse."

Letting out a low bitter sigh, I turned the nozzle back on and washed the soap from his hair.

"Master?" I began through gritted teeth. That title would never roll easily off my tongue, but I wasn't sure if Remy would get angry for asking a question without at least showing some proper respect at the outset.

His tone was lanquid and forgiving. "Oui?"

"Do you want me to repeat?"

"Oui."

"Conditioner?" I'd intended to use it, but the question was raised to measure how much I could say without incurring his anger.

"Oui." Still calm, still unconcerned.

I began again, but this time my mind remained alert, the peaceful images of my wife difficult to retrieve. Instead I turned my attention to Remy and our...relationship. How would he define it? When would I be able to speak freely? Would I be able to speak freely?

"Master?" I began again.

"Oui?" A mild irritation in the tone this time. He didn't appreciate being constantly interrupted from the bliss of my fingers through his hair. I pressed on regardless. "May I speak freely?" I kept my voice low and soothing, no trace of anger or sarcasm in my inflection.

There was a pause as Remy contemplated giving his permission. In the end he granted my request. "Okay."

"I just wanted you to define my speaking...arrangement. You told me not to speak unless spoken to. But, am I allowed to ask questions so that I understand exactly what it is you want?"

"Of course, cher." Remy patted my thigh and snuggled further back into my arms as if the discussion was over.

I rinsed the second lather away thoughtfully, tugging on his locks to pull off the excess water. Remy sighed with delight and I had a sudden urge to press my lips and nose against the strands in my hand, to taste and smell his radiance. Instead I grabbed the bottle of conditioner, dabbed a small amount onto my palm and combed it softly through his hair.

"Will you hit me every time I say something without your permission?" I asked tentatively. "Master." I added to ward off any negative reactions.

I could almost hear Remy frown in annoyance. "Only when you say something I don't like or I feel the need to correct you." He paused, but before I could say more he continued. "We'll talk 'bout dis later. You're a smart boy, Scott. You'll figure out de rules." He flicked the water with his fingers muttering. "Always de rules wit' you. Always got to be knowin' where you stand."

"Well yeah!" I said a bit taken aback. "I don't think I'd like being cracked across my face every time I say something." Instinctively, I rubbed my cheek.

Remy chuckled and smiled mischievously up at me, moving my fingers away to stroke the skin he'd hit. "Dat little love pat? C'mon, cher, you've been t'rough much worse."

"That's debatable." I grumbled. Remy laughed and dipped his hand below the water, running it up my thigh until he reached my groin. Firmly he cupped my testicles and rolled them between his fingers. I squirmed in frustration.

"Don't!" I rasped. "Please!"

"Why?" He asked with a devious grin. "Is dis torture?"

"Just frustrating," I breathed, "because of this thing you've got around my dick."

Remy released my balls but continued to stroke my thigh lazily. That was nearly as bad. "And if I took it off you'd be more...enthusiastic?"

"Probably." I grunted. "I don't have a whole lot of options here."

"True." He nodded. "Well, we'll see, mon cher. We'll see. But you got to remember dat de master/slave relationship is defined by de master. You're here to service and pleasure me. Don't forget dat."

"How could I possibly forget?" I replied earnestly tugging at the collar around my neck. Remy's fingers left my thigh and reached back to pat my cheek in a sympathetic manner. Then he sought my lips running the tips across their dryness. It was too tempting. I opened my mouth and sucked one finger inside lapping up the soapy moisture. Closing my eyes I felt him writhe a little against me as he began to plunge his finger in and out of my mouth. Then he offered a second and I sucked even more avidly. Despite the bitter taste, the liquid soothed my arid tongue. It had been too long since my last feeding. I was thirsty and hungry and aroused. Grabbing his wrist tightly I stopped his pistoning and sucked in his thumb licking it dry. Then I laved at the hand, supping on the tiny drops of water clinging there just to entice me.

I protested with a groan when Remy tore his hand away. "Not yet, m'sweet. Not yet." His voice was ragged and his breathing rapid and labored. But he was still in control.

"Why not?!" I whined in vexation.

Remy let out a short bark of husky laughter. "So eager to feel your master inside of you, pet?"

"I just want to get it over with!" I snapped and regretted the words the instant I spat them out. Remy tensed saying nothing and his silence was ominous. I'd stepped over the line. He knew I didn't want him, not really, not by choice, and I certainly didn't love him. But to almost bluntly point it out was a grievous error. And while I wouldn't have cared if he punished me for the infraction, I was worried that he'd use Alex as the weapon. I had to rectify the situation and quickly before he came to a decision I wouldn't like.

"I'm just thirsty Master, and hungry." Bending down with a hint of resignation I placed my lips on his shoulder. "It's been awhile and I'm frustrated." This was true enough. Not exactly what he wanted to hear, but it would do for now. I felt him relax just a little. At least he wanted me and I could use that to my advantage. Not often. Remy wasn't stupid. But on occasion he might forgive my outbursts if I played up to his desire. I ran light kisses toward his throat and up to the base of his ear, running my
tongue up behind it. Remy's head cocked to one side to give me better access and I heard him gasp when I sucked in the earlobe. I couldn't bring myself to apologize, but my lips and tongue were saying enough.

"Very well." I heard him rasp. "You'll be fed." He moved suddenly out of my arms and hopped up onto the side of the tub. Sitting back on his hands he said, "Let's just see how well your baby brot'er taught you." I heard the slight emphasis on the word 'brother' like a threat. One hand cupped the base of his full erection and then slid up the shaft on the tips of his fingers.
"Feed on me, avide petite morue!"

I didn't have to understand that last part to know Remy was still in a dangerous mood. This was a test of my skill and my obedience. I'd have to pass on both accounts or I felt sure he'd punish me. Slowly I waded between his legs catching my first good glimpse of his manhood. It was just a hair longer than my brother's, but a good bit thicker. I swallowed, my throat tightening on instinct, and knelt down on the bench. Rubbing my lips together nervously I leaned forward and sniffed. Remy had a clean, musky smell, with just a touch of the fragrance of the water. The scent spurred me on as I remembered the taste of his fingers and the moisture that had clung to them. I licked the enflamed head of his cock, pressing the tip of my tongue down into the slit. He moaned and once again sat back on his hands, his erection rocking gently against my tongue. With a careful movement I reached up to take his testicles between my fingers. Alex had warned me it was rare for Remy to give a slave control of the situation. But when he didn't push my hands away I relaxed thinking he was allowing me free rein.

The organ was still pleasantly wet from the bath and I reveled in the double taste of water droplets mixed with his pre-cum. He was oozing steadily from the meatus. With a tiny popping sound I sucked the head between my lips and moved forward inch by tantalizing inch, swirling my tongue along the sensitive underside. When I'd reached halfway I pulled back out. "Merde!"
Remy breathed in frustration. I smiled. Two could play this game. My fingers squeezed his sack with a persistent pleasant pressure as I played with the tender loose fleshy frenulum, sucking it between my lips in long tight gulps.

I could feel his ire vanish as he rocked his hips, tensing and thrusting upward, soft Cajun patois flying from his lips. "Mon Dieu, don' tease." I nearly laughed. It was heady, being able to make him squirm. I could almost desire him like this. Almost. But my need was even more basic than sex. I wanted something to fill my belly and relieve my thirst. I grasped the base of his cock making him gasp and held it firmly where I wanted it. Then I placed my forearms on his thighs letting the weight of my upper body keep him seated, unable to thrust. He didn't protest and I licked the head as a reward. Over and over I ran my tongue, admitting even to myself that the sensation of his skin against my taste buds and nervendings was intoxicating. The tip of his penis was velvet, smooth and slick. Little rivulets of fluid ran down into my mouth and I began to guzzle them down with a vibrating hum and moan as I allowed the rosy head to tip between my lips. Remy gasped, and I prepared myself, expecting him to come, but he pulled himself back from under my arms, drawing himself back from the brink.

Suddenly my eyes widened in surprise as he let his power surge through me. I could feel his sensations, my mouth wrapped around his penis, the flow of his pre-cum, the brink of his orgasm. It was all internal, waves of ecstasy crashing through my brain, setting every nerve on fire. And I wanted him to step over that precipice. I wanted him to get THERE, to cum for me and in me and surround me with that incredible sensation that bordered on heaven. I slammed my mouth all the way down to his belly. My throat spasmed at the intrusion but I didn't care. All I cared for was his pleasure that would ensure mine. Remy cried out at the force of my need as my throat clamped down on his erection. I pulled out as quickly as I'd gone down and began a surging rhythm, releasing his hips so he could join me. Down and down I went each time to the root and I could feel it, the further building of his orgasm. Tears burned my eyes at the intensity, but I couldn't...I wouldn't stop until he came. And when he did, shooting wildly into my throat, I felt it all. Fireworks and stars sparkling against the darkness of my closed lids. My own erection stained painfully against the cock ring, but it did not matter. All that mattered was the crash of those sensations, the force of his climax running through me. It was love and pain, hurt and surrender, bliss and the pinnacle of the firmament all wrapped up and forced through my nervous system. The feeling unhinged and overwhelmed me, trapped me in its claws like an addiction I never wanted to break. I flew off him with a strangled cry, almost choking on his cum, and fell back into the water. My arms and legs shook violently as the sensations continued to flood through me for a moment longer.

Then Remy was slipping down into the water with me, taking me into his arms and kissing me with a bruising passion. And I couldn't help but kiss him back, meeting his lips with a blissful gratitude. For that moment he was everything, master, lover, friend, husband, life. When he broke the kiss to sit back on the bench of the tub and pull me into his lap, I continued to shudder. With a firm but tender hand he pushed my head down onto his shoulder and held me tightly to him. I felt him cup the water and run it soothingly down my spine sending more shivers through my form.

"Alex taught you well." He whispered, his own breath still ragged. "Mon Dieu! He taught you well!"

I smiled against his shoulder. "Well, he is a Summers after all." I croaked. "It's in the genes."

 Remy burst into delighted laughter. "Such modest boys too." I chuckled a little with him, then feeling steadier I pulled back off his lap. He didn't stop me.

"What now?" I asked, looking directly at him. He gazed at me and I knew that he understood my meaning. But nothing had changed. In his eyes, I was still his possession.
 
 
 

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