As promised, Alex and I remained cuffed and gagged the rest of the day and on into the night. It was torturous, but no worse than being locked into the stocks. The most agonizing part of the ordeal was not being able to really sleep much. I stayed on my knees for a long time after Remy had left, afraid to move, afraid the guard would misinterpret my actions, afraid Alex would look at me through tearstained eyes that mirrored my own misery. But eventually fatigue wore me down. It wasn't easy, being chained to the bedpost and unable to stand, but after a few false starts I pulled my stiff legs into a crouch and lowered myself to the carpet.

However, lying on either side proved extremely painful from the angle in which my shoulders were wrenched back with the restraints. I could feel my bones poking into the carpet and pressing back into nerve endings. This caused pins and needles to build up along my arms, and then a ticklish kind of painful numbness that radiated to my belly. The cuffs chaffed against my wrists. The collar dug into my neck almost every time I repositioned myself. I could feel the bruises forming underneath. Lying on my back was simply out of the question.

Somehow I managed to make it onto my stomach, but after a few minutes my arms began to burn from further strain they were put under. And I had to keep turning my face from side to side. Without my arm to pillow my head on there was no comfortable position to rest it. Exhausted and broken, with a gut wrenching groan, I raised back up into a sitting position. I scooted up close to the bedpost, crossed my legs and leaned forward to rest my brow against the wood.

My mouth was dry and a thick sludge had formed from the tears I'd shed and the subsequent phlegm that had drained from my sinuses. It was almost impossible to swallow with the gag in, and all through that endless day I had to focus on breathing so I wouldn't panic. I felt choked, stifled, terrified and humiliated.

And I couldn't look at Alex. Not directly. He was quiet at my side. The one time I surreptitiously glanced at him, he was seated as I was and I thought he was dozing. But then his shoulders hitched and a single tear fell from his closed eyes, and I had to look away. I couldn't bear his torment *and* mine. If I could, I would have crawled to Remy on hands and knees to beg his forgiveness. I think in that one moment, seeing Alex's misery, I would have done anything to put us back under Remy's good graces.

And I knew it was exactly what Remy wanted. He knew how hard it was for me to watch Alex suffer. He'd already threatened me with the act. Psychologically he was unmaking me further. Breaking me down into a true slave. I felt this as I sat there, balling my hands into fists, working out the tightness, my palms still burning from the sting of the crop. But why now? Alex and I had been so well-behaved except for my one moment of anger. We'd done all he'd asked. What more did he need?

And then I realized why with a clarity I'd not had in days. Remy needed a wife. He was away so much of the time now in that search. But when he did finally marry, we'd be left on our own. For how long, I couldn't be certain. There would be a honeymoon no doubt. Then a period of adjustment. Would his wife tolerate us in his bedroom, chained to his bed? Even having grown up in a society that allowed and encouraged pleasure slavery, would a wife want it so obviously thrust in her face that her husband sought sexual gratification in the arms of his male slaves? What would be our role then?

Remy wanted us dependent on his goodwill. "Do you see what your brot'er will suffer if you disobey me?" he seemed to be saying. He was giving us both proof of the punishment he could dole out. He could keep us so close, and yet not allow us to touch or speak to one another. We could watch each other's anguish and yet be unable to comfort. And what then? Were we supposed to see the futility in fighting, in disobeying? Would the days of silence and absence of touch, fused with the nearness, the awareness of something we wanted, needed, but couldn't have wear us down? When Remy finally, magnanimously allowed us our limited freedom, would we kiss his feet and call him savior? The longer I remained seated with my hands bound and my mouth gagged, the closer I came to wanting to do just that. I was dependent on him. He was the only one who could set me free.

I blinked back tears of shame at my weakness. My mind was clouding again without stimulation, with the pain and stiffness of restraint, with the fatigue that came from constant stress and perpetual fear. Because I was afraid. I was terrified.

Finally, *finally*, night fell. A slave came in just as the sun set below the city. I felt rather than saw the guard come near and unlock my leash from the bedpost. He ordered me up and when I was too slow, he grabbed me under one arm and yanked me to my feet. I thought he'd pull my arm out of its socket. But I made it too my feet virtually unscathed. Until I tried to walk. Fire and pricks of agonizing needles shot up through my calves. I stumbled forward, but the guard's meaty fist on my arm held me up. He barked at the slave to help and the young man came quickly around to hold my other arm.

Slowly, painfully we made our way to the bathroom. "You have ten minutes," the guard snapped. Not to me, but to the slave. Without further prompting he dragged me over to the toilet and stood me in front of it. Gripping my cock loosely in his hand, he aimed it at the bowl. Obviously my humiliation knew no end. I wasn't even allowed to hold my own cock while I pissed. With a heavy sigh I dropped my head and let loose a stream of thick pungent urine. I hadn't had anything to drink since last night, and the urine was dark, concentrated. But I also had not pissed in a day, so there was plenty. And it felt good. To my horror, as the flow came to an end, and the slave shook the last few drops away, I grew erect.

"No time," he muttered under his breath and drew me toward the shower stall. He glanced back at the guard wrinkling his nose. "He smells. Lord Remy may come back tonight. I don't think he'd like having to share the same room with a smelly slave, do you?"

The guard grunted and nodded. "Be quick about it."

The slave pulled me into the stall and pushed me under the shower head. Turning the knob on the wall, a burst of cold water hit me full force, abating any desire I'd had. I coughed and gagged under the spray, streams of snot running from my nose and mouth. In a panic, I bent over trying to dislodge the phlegm, and the young slave, alarmed, took hold of my arm tightly, saying, "I can undo the gag, but if you don't let me put it back in, I'll be beaten by the guard."

I nodded without hesitation and he unsnapped the offending device, pulling it from me. As I coughed and spit violently to clear my mouth and nose, a cloth was put to my face and the slave cleared away all the phlegm. I could breath easily now. I sighed in relief and thanked him. But he waved a hand in front of his mouth.

"Shhh," he whispered, "the guard might hear you." I thought he was being ridiculous. Surely the guard had heard all the coughing and spitting earlier. But then that might be overlooked. Talking couldn't be. So I grew silent and let the slave wash me. Mercifully, as if he knew the torture I was going through, he let the water stay cold and didn't put the gag back in right away. I kept my face turned up to the shower head and drank my fill. Five minutes later I let him put the rubber ball back in, dry me and lead me back to the bedpost.

I felt good, refreshed and looked at my brother as he was dragged to his feet. When he saw me looking at him, I gave him as much of a smile as I could and nodded. Alex nodded back and with the help of the guard and slave, stumbled to the bathroom.

When he was brought back he looked better too. And now I was able to meet his eyes without too much fear and anger and guilt. We gazed at each other for a long, long time. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes and could see Alex blinking back his own. Again, I was swamped by the overwhelming need to touch him, to give him comfort. I almost moved closer to him, thinking I could sit next to him, maybe nudge his shoulder just a bit without the guard being aware. But then the door opened, and Remy walked in escorting a beautiful young woman. He held her hand like nobility, gently, up above her waist line. I got to my knees but made no sound. There was no point. Remy had made his position clear. We were being punished and he'd not veer one inch from his orders. I'd only be punished further if I embarrassed him in front of his guest.

He whispered something to the young girl and she giggled demurely. A courtier's daughter, no doubt. Someone Remy was courting. She ignored us completely.

They drifted to the couches as servants entered with bottles of wine and platters of food. A table was set up, and I noticed with a twinge of envy there were two chairs placed on either side. A single red rose in a bud vase was placed in the center of the table between two red candles.

After the servants had completed setting the table, Remy rose gracefully from the couch and offered his hand to the young woman. Then he seated her at the table. A single servant in a red coat braided with gold and gold buttons, waited on the two. I was surprised it wasn't Henry, but then he was Remy's manservant, so perhaps he didn't serve as waiter when Remy was entertaining female company.

As the servant began opening silver dishes, my stomach rolled in protest and I bit back a groan. Alex and I hadn't eaten in a day, and Remy had said no food or water until the morning. But this was cruel. Deliberately so, and I slumped back on my heels, trying to ignore Remy and his guest.

It wasn't easy to ignore the smell of food, but eventually my stomach settled into a quiet revolt. Remy and the young lady were easier to ignore. From across the room I couldn't hear what they were saying and just watching them grew boring after a while. I tried with some success to push my jealousy deep down inside and ignore it too. Shifting to Indian style, I waited. The night dragged on as Remy and his lovely companion laughed and talked and flirted.

Finally there was a knock at the door and a polished young man entered the room. He and Remy shook hands, exchanging courtesies. Then Remy gave his young dinner date a chaste kiss and she left with the young man. I let out a long low welcoming sigh. Remy heard despite my trying to keep it quiet, because he turned sharply to narrow his eyes at me until I dropped my own. But when I looked up a minute later he was giving me that knowing half-smile, half-smirk. Then he turned and began stripping as he sauntered off to the bathroom.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I was aware of was Remy standing in front of my brother, naked and still wet from the bath, small droplets of water trickling down his skin. He'd placed a hand softly on my head, fingers twining through my locks. With his other hand he stroked my brother's cheek. The blood began to drain into my groin and I swallowed reflexively around the gag in my mouth.

Remy was holding Alex's gaze. "'Ave you been good, my pet?" My brother blinked in sleepy confusion and Remy smiled. "Of course, cher, how could you not, hein?"

His hand suddenly shifted to the back of Alex's head and he undid the gag, pulling it from his mouth and letting it drop to the floor. Alex coughed and swallowed, clearing his throat.

"Master..." he croaked.

"Shhh..." Remy placed a finger to my brother's lips. "Don' say anyt'ing I'd hate for you to regret."

I sneered at that, but Remy didn't notice. His eyes were glowing ruby slits solely focused on Alex's face, his voice low and husky, his cock fully erect, inches from Alex's lips.

"She was beautiful, non?" Alex knew better than to answer. "But stupid as a cow," Remy continued. "Too much inbreeding in de upper classes here. Dey want to keep de line pure. But look what dey breed. Idiots. N'cest pas?" His hand had slipped around to Alex's face and he ran a thumb along his bottom lip. I shuddered involuntarily and Remy looked over at me, giving me a lazy smile, stoking his fingers through my hair. "But not my boys, eh? Smart, smart my boys. And beautiful. Even bound and gagged. Si beau."

His words ran through me like sweet honeyed liqueur causing me to shiver again, causing me to feel hope. I closed my eyes and when he stroked my face, still purring compliments and soothing words, I turned into his touch. He used none of his charm power. I simply wanted him to touch me. And I nudged his hand a bit toward the back of my head, hoping he'd release my gag too. Instead he drew his hand away with another lazy smile.

Remy grasped his engorged penis, now oozing with pre-cum, by the root and ran it across Alex's lips. "Be a good boy. Be a smart boy. I'll release you in de morning. Not long now."

Without any hesitation Alex opened his lips and let the head of Remy's cock slip in between. Remy began to fuck his mouth and throat with easy gentle thrusts, holding Alex's face to control his rhythm. "Ah, ah, ah..." he rasped, "I miss dis mout'. So hot, so good. Dat's it! De tongue, cher, use de tongue. So smart, so talented." On and on he murmured. Soft words of encouragement. Words that aroused. I was hard and leaking, and couldn't look away. Alex's throat caught my eye as he gulped down Remy's prick, taking it to the hilt. I could swear I saw the minuscule tremors of the muscles spasming, and my own cock twitched with want.

"Sweet mouth. I taught you well, mon cher," Remy boast. And he had. Alex had a very talented mouth. But as I watched, almost drooling with longing, it wasn't Alex's mouth I wanted, but my Master's cock. Down my throat, up my ass. Just any connection. I wanted him to touch me again. I flushed furiously and turned away. But I couldn't tune out the sounds. Gentle slaps of flesh against flesh, moans and curses of Remy as he neared climax, and the soft clink of metal cuffs as Alex strained forward.

"Dieu!" Remy hissed only a few minutes later and I knew he was cumming. I almost came myself at the sound. And I couldn't help looking back. Remy's fingers were digging into Alex's scalp, his cock pushed into the hilt, his legs tensed together, buttocks straining from release, muscles twitching in pleasure, his back arched, his head thrown back in wild abandon, and his mouth opened in a silent "O".

Alex milked him for all he was worth. I watched in a hungry daze has he sucked and licked and swallowed until Remy almost had to push him away.

"Bein, bein," he said breathlessly. Bending to retrieve the gag, Remy kissed my brother passionately, clasping his neck tightly. Then he leaned back. "Such a good boy. Such a good slave. Open your mout', cher." Alex, eyes closed, seemed to droop, but he obeyed Remy's command and let the gag be slipped back in between his teeth. Remy snapped it securely around his head. He stood up and moved to stand in front of me. Stroking my head, he forced me to look up at him.

"Sorry, cher. Not'ing left for you at de moment. Perhaps tomorrow." He bent and kissed my forehead, then walked to the side of the bed and climbed in. He was asleep in no time. I slumped back and hung my head, all hope vanished. And this time it was my brother who wouldn't look at me.