I stayed awake the rest of the night, unable to wind down, or find any comfortable position to sleep in. Eventually, morning broke through the window. But Remy slept on into midmorning. Alex was awake soon after me. But he still kept his eyes averted, even though I looked at him several times trying to catch his gaze.

When Remy woke he immediately called for the guard. And without a word we were released. At first I could barely raise my arms. My hands were swollen and there was a single long laceration across the middle of my palm. It had broken again sometime in the night, and a thin layer of dried blood surrounded the wound. But I was able to move my fingers. And the swelling wasn't quite as bad as I'd anticipated.

"Get dem somet'ing to eat. Den call Samson and let him 'ave a look at dier palms," Remy told the guard once we were released. "If Samson t'inks dey're hands are not to badly injured, take dem to de gym. Dey are still not to talk to one anot'er or touch. D'ccord."

The guard acknowledged the orders with a respectful nod, and then went to the door to call a servant to bring us food. Remy gave us a final look and then went into the bathroom to get ready for his day. We were eating breakfast when he returned. He ignored us, dressing quickly, and left without another word. Obviously, he was back to being the hard master again. But at least we were free of our bonds.

Alex still wouldn't look at me while we ate. I think he feared I might be angry with him, jealous perhaps because Remy had paid him attention, had used his mouth. I wasn't angry. I was jealous, but I was controlling that emotion. I knew how irrational it was. And so I stared at him, trying to get him to look at me, but he wouldn't. And when he'd finished eating, he laid down with his back turned away from me. I felt a chill pass through me. This wasn't like him. He'd just as soon be angry with me, for not having drawn Remy's attention away.

I watched him until Dr. Samson came by. The doctor examined our hands, tut-tutting and muttering under his breath about Remy's cruelty. When I started to say something, he held up a hand. "Don't get yourself in further, my boy. Remy doesn't want you to speak to me either." Quickly and efficiently he applied a cooling salve to my hands and wrapped them in clean white gauze. Then he moved over to Alex, who still remained on his side.

Bending down, Dr. Samson murmured something to my brother. But Alex just shook his head and held his hands up for the doctor to examine. Samson looked over Alex at me with a questioning frown, but I just shrugged. He finished dressing my brother's hands and stood up. The guard stood to attention.

"Can they exercise?" He asked without much interest.

"They can jog. Or use the stairmaster. No weights for a week. Don't let them use their hands or arms. Keep the dressings dry. I'll be back in the morning to check on them and redress them if necessary."

The guard nodded and escorted the doctor to the door. Then he ordered Alex and me up. We both rose stiffly to our feet and followed him down to the gym. It was hard going, once we got there. The guard decided that jogging would be best, so he led us upstairs after allowing us to piss. I took my time stretching. My arms still felt like dead weight, and being able to now stand I was able to work some circulation back into the muscles. Very soon I felt almost human again.

After the guard decided we'd jogged enough, he took us back downstairs to the showers. One of the pleasure slaves I didn't recognize was there, rinsing himself off after a workout. The guard spoke to him gruffly, ordering him to wash us. That way we'd keep the bandages dry. Then we were led back up to the bedroom and locked down.

The rest of the day wore on. But at least we weren't bound and gagged. I slept most of the day. Alex did too, I was pretty certain, because once we got back up there he turned away from me and lay down on his side again. I watched him for a while, and his breathing was slow and even, so I took it that he'd fallen asleep. And he wasn't going to communicate in our carpet language. I felt a little bereft of that. It was something I'd really missed while being cuffed. But while Alex had seemed fairly energetic while we jogged, in this room he seemed listless, not really interested in anything, including me.

When night fell, the guard came back over to us. "Turn around and put your arms together." He said. I did what he ordered immediately, but Alex seemed to hesitate. Then he shrugged and turned around. Our arms were secured once again. But when the guard ordered us to open our mouths, Alex tensed and said, "No."

His voice was very calm, very quiet and assured. As the guard stepped forward to force him into obedience, Alex exploded. He kicked out, catching the guard square in the abdomen. The guard yelped and fell back clutching his stomach and I fell back out of Alex's way. My brother began to pull earnestly at the chain connecting his collar to the bedpost. I watched in shock and amazement, certain that his neck would snap from the strain he was using, trying to break the post. "Alex, stop it!" I hollered at him. But he continued to pull against the chain, letting it slacken, then snapping it taut with incredible force. I tried to lunge toward him to stop him physically, but he moved away from me until I reached the end of my chain. I yelled at him over and over to stop, but he simply ignored me and continued to yank at the chain.

By that time the guard had recovered and was calling for backup. Four guards were there in moments, stalking over to Alex has he continued to methodically pull at the chain.

"Don't injure him if you can help it. Just get the gag in. He can't break the post or the chain, no matter how hard he tries." One of the guards said. Why they didn't have the control box for Alex's collar was a mystery to me.

They moved forward cautiously. Alex saw them approach. "You're not putting that fucking thing back into my mouth," he said, calm but deadly.

"Take it easy." One of the men said, soothingly. And I though *they've been trained how to treat a cornered slave*. But then they pounced. Alex snarled and kicked out. At this point I began to help him. I sent one of the guards plummeting toward the footboard of the bed by sticking a leg out as he ran forward. His head met wood and he dropped like a stone.

One of the attackers yelped at that instant. "He bit me! The fucker bit me!" Inwardly I smiled. Alex wasn't playing fair. And I admired him for it. But I was curious as to why he was fighting the gag. He'd been pretty obedient up until then. I thought I was the one who'd fight the restraints.

Arms and legs flailed near me. I got in a few solid kicks to a torso or two that crossed my path. But without any real leverage, the battle was over before it had really begun. Alex was pinned to the ground and the gag was shoved roughly between his lips. When I saw the blood around his lips, I was afraid the guards had knocked some teeth out.

After the gag had been put back in, four of the men stood up and backed away. One of them bent and grabbed the legs of the man who'd been knocked out and drug him back away from Alex. Alex glared at all of them, his eyes a little too wide and his expression wild.

"You're going to be punished for that when Lord Remy hears about this." Alex snorted through the gag. As if Remy could do anything more to my brother, I thought. But he could, I knew.

"Calm down, Alex," I said, suddenly aware that my own gag hadn't been replaced in the confusion. "This isn't going to help." He turned his fierce glare on me and I winced. But I kept on. Alex was furious and needed to get back his center before Remy returned. "It won't last," I echoed his own words. "And you can't win. Not now. Calm down." I kept up this chant, more for myself in a way. But eventually Alex relaxed and slumped back onto his heels, head bowed.

Once they realized Alex wasn't going to lash out at them anymore, the guard who'd restrained us in the beginning moved toward me. "Don't think we didn't notice you either, slave," he scowled. "Now open your mouth and take this gag, or so help me, I'll kick the shit out of you, Lord Remy's favorite or not!"

I almost laughed at that. *We're no favorites anymore* I wanted to say. Instead I opened my mouth and let him snap the ball gag in place. Now that we were subdued, the other guards left. I was inwardly satisfied watching them carry their unconscious comrade with them. Even hoped I caused a good deal of damage when I tripped him. Then I winced inwardly, not too happy with my gloating. The guard was just doing his job. There was a good deal of animosity between Alex, myself and the hired watchers. But there was no reason to wish them ill. It was Remy who needed to pay for all these indignities. Him and the lawmakers of this country, this world, who allowed slavery to continue in any form. Although I'm sure, given the chance, many of these guards wouldn't mind owning a slave of their own. We were just privileged to bear the brunt of their envy of the upper classes.

I looked at Alex while our guard was preoccupied in getting himself back in order. My brother wouldn't look at me, although I tried hard to distract him from his obviously pessimistic thoughts. He looked defeated, worn down. And it had me worried. I would have given anything for Xavier's telepathy at that moment. What was going through my brother's head? I'd never seen him fight anything that was required before. Why now? Why tonight? Perhaps the isolation and punishment were getting to him? Perhaps he was near that edge into madness? Remy might have pushed him too far this time. I just couldn't tell. All I knew was how wild his look had been. How defiantly he'd told the guard "no". I prayed he hadn't succumb now to a madness I was sure would take us, if we were kept much longer in this confinement.

The door opened a minute later and Remy strode in. A girl -- she couldn't have been more than 12 years old -- followed meekly behind. And servants followed after with a table and chairs for dining and platters of food. Remy seemed irritated. I'm certain the guards had informed him of our behavior, but he didn't spare us a glance. I think he was more irritated by his dinner companion. She was a mere child.

However, I watched him as the young girl stood by, obviously terrified, waiting for the servants to set up the table and leave. Remy seemed to physically steel himself against something, perhaps his coming dinner. Then, after all the servants had gone except the one who was to wait on them, he turned to the girl and offered his hand. "Chere," he said, "shall we eat, eh?"

The girl gave a nervous nod and took Remy's hand. He sat her down at the table and a change came over the two. Remy began to flirt with the girl outrageously, but in such an exaggerated way that no one could mistake it for serious seduction. He told her jokes and amusing anecdotes, all to ease her fear. And she began to relax in his company. She laughed at him, and he got her to talk about her day, what she had studied, where she had gone, what shops her 'nanny' had taken her to. His manner was very similar to one he'd used with Henry. He knew the girl was too young to be paraded in front of him as a wife. But women weren't treated much better here than slaves, and she might have borne the ire of her parents had Remy refused to spend some time with her, courting her.

I couldn't help but admire that he would endure this ritual, just to save the girl from being punished. But then he had shown some sense of decency at times. And I couldn't really say that what was happening between the two was truly honorable on Remy's part.

After they'd dined, Remy led the girl to a couch. A pitcher of juice was provided. Remy wouldn't allow the girl to drink wine, though I got the impression it was allowed in this country. The young girl, more relaxed by that point began her own innocent form of seduction. It was awkward to watch. A clumsy hand put on Remy's thigh, a soft giggle, an indecent caress. Remy more often than not gently removed her hands with a chaste kiss to her knuckles. And it wasn't long before he kissed her softly on the forehead and sent her away.

Once she was gone, Remy strode over to us and stood in front of my brother. *Here it comes,* I thought. We'd be punished further.

With a sense of surprise, I watched him bend down in front of Alex and remove the gag. "I understand you weren't very obedient to your guard today. Why would let him cuff you, but not put in de gag?" Again Remy surprised me. His look was of sincere concern. Not anger.

Alex looked up at him warily. I think he wasn't sure if he could speak.

But Remy prompted him, "You can tell me, mon cher. Why did you fight de guard?"

Alex said nothing for a long moment. He simply gazed into Remy's eyes as if searching for something. "I..." he finally began. Then stopped to clear his throat. "I wanted you to do it. Only you." I felt my heart lurch from the defeat, the sadness, the utter desolation in his tone.

"Me?" Remy asked quietly, contemplatively. "You fought de guards because you wanted me to put de gag back in your mouth?"

Alex hung his head. "Yes," he whispered. "Not those animals. Not the hired help. I just...I just want you."

I was shocked. He was bending to Remy completely. He wanted his slavery. And I was furious. And terrified. Is that what I would become? Alex was becoming lost to me. Something had happened between last night and this evening. Something I couldn't understand. I had to get out. I had to get Alex out. He was losing his soul to Remy Lebeau.

And Remy was radiant. He pulled Alex to him. "Mon couer, why didn't you say? Oh, mon cher, de guard is just obeying my orders. He is my emissary when I'm not here. You *must* obey him as if he were me. Understand?" I saw Alex nod on Remy's shoulder. Remy stroked his back and whispered to him. I don't think it was anything I couldn't hear, just soothing words, words of some false love. Eventually though, Remy's voice grew stern, and loud enough that I could hear what he was saying.

"You know, t'ough I love you, you must be punished for your disobedience." Alex nodded again. "But because your disobedience came from wanting my attention, I will deliver de punishment m'self." He pulled back from my brother. "Okay?" Alex looked at him for a moment and then gave a curt nod.

Then Remy looked at me for the first time. "And I will punish you in de playroom. I won't let your brot'er watch. I won't add insult to injury. D'ccord?"

Alex gave him a slight, yet soulful smile as Remy stood up. Not bothering to call for a guard, Remy unhooked the chain attached to my brother's collar and helped him to his feet. They left without a glance in my direction, and I felt this terrible need to cry. But I shoved the feeling down deep. Alex was lost to me.

The rest of the night I was left alone, cuffed and gagged, to wait for Alex's return. But by morning when he still hadn't come back I began to worry. Had Remy seriously injured him, after his loyalty, his complete undoing? Was he being further punished? Left for the night in the stocks as I had been? Or maybe -- and I tried hard to dismiss this jealous thought -- Remy had given him a reprieve for whhat he'd said, for how he'd acted. Maybe even now, he was tucked away in the slave quarters, being nursed back to health by his favorite slave. I didn't want to believe this, but the longer he was kept away, the more uncharitable I became. Another twist to the thorn in my side.

By midmorning I was released by one of the many guards who'd stood watch over us. When I asked where Alex was, as expected, I was told to shut up. Then I was fed, taken to the bathroom, then to the gym where I was ordered to work out, and then led back to the bedroom and chained to the bedpost once more. My usual day, but without the presence of Alex to alleviate some of the loneliness. Standing outside myself I was amazed at the depth of my heartache, how much I missed Alex although I'd witnessed him truly break for the first time. Yet a small portion of me wished him dead rather than having some twisted love toward Remy. But there was little I could do. Still, I didn't allow myself to cry. Tears would come later, when I was free. I'd shed no more tears until I'd brought Alex safely back to the mansion.

That night the guards were taking no chances. As if in retaliation for my brother's actions, my collar was activated, and the gag and cuffs were secured once I'd hit the floor paralyzed. I tried to curse them before the rubber ball was shoved between my teeth, but only a pitiful mewling sound came out. The two men laughed at the sound and left me on my side, the pain in my arms increasing with every minute I was unable to move.

Remy returned a short while later as I was attempting to get to my knees. He had another young woman with him. Another courtier's daughter to audition for the role of wife. At least this one looked older than eighteen. They ignored me as usual. But this didn't bother me because now I was ignoring them. By the time the woman left, I was leaning back gently against the bed frame asleep.

I'm not certain if Remy said something to wake me, but when I opened my eyes, he was down on one knee in front of me. I scowled at him for a moment and then closed my eyes and bowed my head.

"Look at me, Scott," Remy ordered.

Funny how I'd come to react to his voice without thinking. My head shot up and I looked at him cautiously. But when he raised a hand to caress my cheek, I flinched away from his touch. He frowned, but not in anger. He seemed concerned.

"Your brot'er is safe, mon ami," he said. I glanced at him, more surprised that he called me 'friend', than at Alex's safety. I'd had no real reason to believe my brother had been in any serious danger, although the thought had been a burden most of the day. "I sent him to de infirmary to heal," Remy continued. "He'll be back tomorrow."

Oddly enough I found myself not caring. It seemed so anticlimactic. I shifted to drop my head again, but Remy reached a hand out to take hold of my chin.

"You don' care." It wasn't a question. I just stared at him, keeping my face neutral. But then he was moving forward, gripping my jaw line tightly to prevent me from turning away. His lips brushed lightly over my eyelids and strayed across one cheek to my ear. I shivered, trying to pull back.

"Why do you fight what you can' hope to win?" Remy whispered. "You do care, but you're pushing it away, trying to ignore de feelings and trying to ignore me. You don' want to believe what your baby brot'er now understands completely: you're mine. You may be angry by dis punishment and t'ink it's unfair. But dat means not'ing. Down deep below de anger, and perhaps de hate, you know you belong to me." He nipped an earlobe, running his tongue along the rim. I shut my eyes tightly trying to shut him out. Instead, the tears I had determined never to shed sprang up behind my eyelids.

Remy pulled me into his arms, his lips barely brushed the skin just behind my ear and I let out a muffled sob.

"Soon," he murmured, and let me go, wiping away a stray tear with his fingertips. "Soon," he said again. Then he stood up and climbed into bed. I couldn't fathom what he'd meant by 'soon' and so I let the tears flow until I dropped off into a restless sleep.

Alex returned the next day after I'd eaten and been taken to the gym. His eyes were hollow and haunted. But he didn't look at me for long. And when he rolled onto his side away from me, I could see the faint traces of the whip marks across his back and buttocks. They crisscrossed each other, so there was no telling how many he had received. They were ugly all the same, and I longed to reach out and run a finger across all of them, hoping to heal the emotional scars they had left. My brother was lost to me. Damn Remy.