Several days went by before Remy brought another woman home to dine. And then Lady Krysti Boutin joined him. She was unlike any of the other women Remy had entertained. There was no pretense about her. She was earnest and sincere and most of all, kind. She wasn't striking like so many of the others. A little plain perhaps, except for her long auburn tresses and her intense green eyes. Yet she radiated a beauty far beyond her peers with her graciousness and her warmth. I would have compared her to Grace Kelly or Audrey Hepburn. Classy, feminine, but still a strength of character. She was no pushover. But she did not demand. She simply made converts of those who didn't at first see eye to eye with her.

And that, in a sense, was my first impression of Lady Boutin. She made a convert of Remy Lebeau. The moment she entered the room on Remy's arm she looked at us with a bit of shock, and then compassion. Gently withdrawing her hand from Remy, she came over to us and knelt down in front of me.

"Oh dear," she said sadly, "have you disobeyed Lord Lebeau?"

I looked over her shoulder at Remy, who was approaching with a bemused expression on his face. There was nothing in his look to guide me in this situation, so when I looked back at her, my expression was blank. She turned her head gracefully to look up at Remy.

"Must they be restrained so? I don't think I could enjoy dinner, knowing they're in pain." She gave a beatific smile and I swear Remy brightened like the sun. "I'm sure you have your reasons for punishing them, but surely there is forgiveness in your heart, even for slaves."

Remy seemed mesmerized by her words, by the sound of her voice. He seemed to have to literally shake himself back into focus. Was she an empath like him, I wondered? Did she have the ability to charm? But I felt none of the intense warmth and pleasure I received when Remy used *his* power. Perhaps he must have picked up on her sincerity, her innate kindness, and it was like a drug for him, a peace of some kind he'd never feel on his own.

"Of course, chere," he said. "For you I will end their punishment."

She put a delicate hand to her throat. "Not for me, Milord. For their dignity, and to earn their loyalty. Punishment should be swift. To draw it out, only puts resentment in their hearts. They are men after all. And you favor them."

Remy looked down at us thoughtfully. Then he straightened, coming to a decision. "Oui," he said, and knelt down next to Lady Boutin. He quickly unsnapped Alex's gag and reaching around him, undid his cuffs. Then I watched with curious relief as he unlocked the chain from my brother's collar. Alex remained silent, only cracking his jaw to relieve the tension and rubbing his wrists.

Remy reached over to me, then and undid my restraints. He stood up afterward, and offered his hand to Lady Boutin. She took it graciously and rose up next to him, as he looked down at us.

"G'on. Go clean yourselves up. You can sleep in de bed, after you're finished," he said kindly.

I climbed to my feet, shaky and stiff, and looked at Lady Boutin. "Thank you," I rasped. Then I looked at Remy. "Thank you, Master." What else could I say? He caressed my cheek.

"You're forgiven, mon cher." He smiled. "Would you like your guitar repaired?"

I stared at him stupidly until he said with a chuckle, "I'll take dat as a yes."

Alex had gotten to his feet by this time and he also thanked Remy, stretching out a hand as if wanting to touch him, but not sure he'd be allowed. Remy took his hand and put it to his lips. Then he pulled him into his arms whispering words that had my brother sobbing in minutes. Remy held him until he quieted. When he released him, Remy wiped away what tears were left on his face and said, "G'on, cher."

He gestured to the bathroom, and Alex moved unsteadily toward it, working out his stiffness as he walked. I stood there, watching my brother, still in somewhat of a daze, unable perhaps to believe Remy was freeing us from our torment. Suddenly Remy slapped me on my hip. "Well? You gonna stand dere all night?"

I gaped at him before finally stumbling after my brother. Alex was already in the shower. I wasn't sure what to say to him. I wasn't sure if I should say anything, or if I was even allowed to speak to him. He kept his back to me, and I wasn't even sure if he knew I was there. So I said, "Alex?"

"Don't start," he said quietly, not turning around.

I stared at the area between his shoulder blades for several minutes before finally having the courage to ask simply, "Why?"

"Why what?" Alex turned to face me. "Why did I fight the guards? Why did I want just Remy to put the gag back in? Why have I not looked at you or tried to speak to you? You know, Scott, somethings aren't always about you. And somethings are just inevitable."

My brother was a mystery to me at that moment. There was so much more I wanted to ask. I started with the most pressing and most obvious. "Do you love him?"

His face grew dark, his eyes drifted into pools of desolation. He turned to the side, clenching his fists and letting the spray of the shower run along his shoulders. "I...yes...maybe...I don't know."

"I'm getting us out," I told him with a fierce determination that belied my fear. "I'm getting out of here as soon as I can, and then I'm coming back for you."

He didn't even hesitate when he turned back around to face me. "And what if I don't want to go back?"

There was nothing left to say. I exploded into action, shoving him back through the spray and up against the tiled wall, barely missing knocking him into the shower knobs. And I kissed him, hard, driving a knee between his legs. At first he wouldn't respond. He kept his lips tightly pressed together and let his hands drop to his sides. But when I rolled a nipple between my fingers, drawing it into hardness, and then twisting. He gasped, and I drove my tongue into his mouth. I could fight unfairly just as well as he could. And I knew he wouldn't bite me. At least not too hard.

All the days of isolation. All the weeks we weren't allowed to speak or touch came crashing down on him, and Alex woke to my desperate passion. He took hold of my tongue between his lips and nursed at it roughly, like a newborn. A strange half gurgle, half whimper rose out of his throat. His arms came around my waist and he crushed me to him. When he broke the kiss he was whispering, "Don't do this to me. Don't make me choose. I'll choose badly."

"Shhh..." I murmured back, nipping at his earlobe. "You won't have to choose when I come to rescue you."

He shook his head with a broken sob. "I just can't believe that you'll escape. I just can't have that kind of hope." He dropped his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes. "After everything that's happened, I just can't hope anymore."

I pulled his head down with both my hands on his face and kissed him again gently. "I've got hope enough for both of us, brother," I said. "And I am *not* losing you to Remy's screwed up notion of love."

Alex couldn't or wouldn't say anything to that, so I just gazed at him for a long time as he kept his eyes forlornly on the floor. Finally, I pulled him back under the shower and tenderly, reverently, began to wash him.

When we walked back into Remy's bedroom, he and Lady Boutin were seated at dinner, laughing at something that had just been said. I'd never seen Remy so relaxed. It seemed as if he'd completely let his guard down with his dinner companion. And she was simply serene. Her laugh reminded me of Jean when we'd first met. Innocent, unshaken by the worries we'd come to face day in and day out. Jean had lost some of that. I don't think I'd ever had it to begin with. I smiled faintly at the laughter and my memories and moved toward the bed. But Remy stopped me.

"Scott. Alex. Come here," he said, waving his hand at us. "I'd like you to meet de woman who has stolen m'heart."

Lady Boutin blushed and said, "We've only just met, Lord Lebeau. Surely you can't mean that?"

Remy laughed. "I mean every word, ma chere. Every word."

I'd come to stand on Remy's right, and a wash of jealousy went through me, but I shoved it back as quickly as I could. And when he wrapped his arm around my waist, his fingers caressing my hip, I shivered, the sense of jealous anger leaving me as I now tried to concentrate on willing myself not to become aroused. Somehow it would have seemed vulgar in front of this lady. She meant no harm to me, and in fact had been my rescuer. Thankfully, my cock only twitched a little with interest.

Alex moved around to stand on Remy's other side. I looked over at him, but he kept his eyes forward, his face passive, even when Remy began to cup and fondle one of his buttocks. His gaze remained just above Lady Boutin's head, fixed on a point somewhere on the wall behind her.

"Lady Boutin, dese are my most favored slaves." He nodded to me. "Dis is Scott." Then he nodded to my brother. "And dis is Alex. Say hello to Lady Krysti Patrice Boutin. First born of de Patriarch of de British Isles."

I bowed, not exactly certain how to greet her. Alex did the same. "Hello," we both said in unison. Lady Boutin laughed delicately.

"Hello, favored ones."

"You see, chere," Remy said, his face beaming with pride, "polite *and* beautiful."

"Yes they are." She smiled brightly in agreement. "I imagine if they were mine, I would also be tempted to chain them to my bed."

The way in which she said this was light and friendly, almost in jest. There was no malice and no sense of exploitation. It was only a comment on how she perceived us. Handsome men. And I couldn't help but laugh and say, "Somehow, Lady, I can't see how I would mind being chained to your bed."

She burst into laughter and Remy swatted me playfully on my ass, surprisingly unperturbed. "I t'ink I'd best hide dem from you, or dey'll be begging you to steal dem away. And I'm afraid I'd let you get away wit' it."

"I wouldn't," Alex spoke up quietly.

Remy looked up at him. "Wouldn't what, cher?"

"Ask her to steal me from you."

I tensed, worried that Remy might think Alex was offending his guest. But he squeezed his hip and asked, "Why not, cher? Don' you like Krysti?"

For the first time since we'd come over to Remy, Alex's face showed emotion. One corner of his mouth twitched up in a lopsided smile and he said, "No, Master. She is beautiful and kind. But I know who I belong to."

Remy barked out a laugh. "And so you do!" He said, pulling Alex down to kiss him quickly. I looked over at Lady Boutin, curious to see her reaction. She seemed amused and...tender was the only word I could think of, as if she were watching a grand romance. And despite the anger I'd felt toward Alex's breaking, seeing my brother and my master through her eyes, eyes that had always witnessed slavery, I couldn't help but agree that their kiss was romantic. The beauty of submission. Lady Boutin smiled warmly at me when she noticed me watching her. I nodded as if we'd both come to some agreement.

Then Remy was patting my ass and telling my brother and I to go to bed. "De Lady Boutin and I would like to finish our meal without such beautiful distractions. Keep quiet, you two."

He said this with good-natured humor, and I relaxed visibly. Alex and I would be allowed to speak to each other as long as we kept our voices low.

When I climbed into bed beside Alex, I pulled him into my arms. He resisted at first, every muscle in his back, neck and arms tense. But then with a sad sigh he relaxed against me and I hugged him tight. "I love you, Alex," I murmured.

He was silent for a long time and I'd thought after a while that he'd fallen asleep. But then I heard him say softly, his voice choked with emotion, "Don't make me choose. Please, don't make me choose."

I only kissed him gently on the back of his neck, nuzzling just behind his ear. "Go to sleep," I finally said. "I just wanted you to know that I love you."

He nodded, but said nothing else. I lay there snuggled next to my brother, unable to get close enough to him, listening to his easy breathing, reveling in the faint musky scent of him, tasting his flesh at times, adoring the moments when he shivered, wanting nothing more. Even if he was afraid to choose. Even if he was broken by the long weeks of punishment. Even if he believed he loved Remy more than me. I could touch him, I could taste him and smell him, and right now, it was almost enough. Only being able to crawl into him, to become a part of him and bring him back from under Remy's influence would have made it enough.

I listened to the sound of his breathing and the quiet conversation between Remy and Lady Boutin, until the weariness of the long weeks of punishment dragged me into sleep. And just as I drifted over that edge into dreams, I heard a whispered, "I love you too, Scott."

A movement on the bed woke me in the night. Remy was climbing in behind me. One of his hands ran lightly down my side until he reached my hip. Then he thrust his other hand underneath my side and gently pulled me onto my back. I looked at him in the dimly lit room, his eyes glowing, but he was looking down at my body as if studying it, memorizing each line, every curve. Finally, he looked up into my eyes. There was lust in his gaze, but also a joy I don't think I'd ever seen. Carefully, as if afraid I'd pull away or perhaps strike out at him because of what he'd put us through, be brought his fingers to my brow and began to touch me like a blind man.

I narrowed my eyes, unable to understand what he wanted. He saw my confusion and smiled, but said nothing. His fingers drifted down across my eyes, persuading them to close. I relaxed back onto the mattress, letting him touch me as he pleased, somehow happier than I'd ever been from his touch. He stroked my face, running a hand across my nose, then his thumb across my bottom lip. I opened my mouth without thinking, but he ignored it and let his fingers slide lower. Around my neck, softly stroking. Sometimes only one finger playing in the hollow of my throat. I could feel his breath so close to my skin and I began to shudder with want. But as I reached up to touch him, his hands, fast as light, pushed my arms back down on the bed and held them there firmly until I understood I was not to put my hands on him.

I groaned in frustration, but he made no sound, either to comfort me or to provoke me. Yet without opening my eyes, I knew he was smiling, a tender smile that asked me to trust him. And oddly, perversely, I did. Shortly after, his fingers began to explore my body again.

As they glided over my chest, circling my nipples without touching, I grew erect. Then one of his hands came away from my body and I felt a chill go through me. I started to shake, but not from the cold. My mouth worked, opening and closing, but unable to speak a word. I could only gasp and moan. And then I felt Alex stir beside me and four sets of fingertips were caressing my flesh.

I let out a gasped "ah", and began to tremble so hard from want that I was afraid I'd shake apart. Every nerve was tingling from the gentleness of their touch. My cock began to weep in anticipation, moving with the tremors that wracked my body, as if alive. If only they'd kiss me. I wanted to beg them for it, but my lips wouldn't work, words wouldn't come.

Four hands drifted lower, nails raking my stomach. One finger circled and circled my navel until it finally began to plunge in and out of the indentation, sending quivers through my belly. Then more raking through my pubic hair, running around my cock, but never close enough to brush. I thrust in upward in need, but two of those tormenting hands pushed my hips back down on the mattress and held me again until I wouldn't move. I tightened into stillness, sure I would die from want, unable to stop the tremors, but wanting those hands to continue touching so badly, I wouldn't have minded my death.

A minute later their fingers began again, moving gently between my legs, stroking my inner thighs. Down they went, over my knees and calves, sweeping around my ankles, two hands gripping them firmly and pushing my legs up to bend at the knees. Three sets of fingertips ran up along the backs of my thighs, as I felt someone shift between my legs. And then a finge, slick with spit, ran along the crevice of my ass. Without warning, it was thrust into me and I bucked. But that wasn't my undoing, though it I was close. I came when lips pressed down against mine demanding entrance and another mouth closed around the head of my weeping cock. I exploded with painful force, arching up as far as I could into that warm luscious mouth.

When I was just liquid flesh on the bed, I managed to open my eyes a hair to see Remy above me staring down with his glowing red eyes. Alex was below, nursing my cock of every drop. I lay there boneless, moving just enough to bring Remy's lips back down on mine. But eventually he broke away and pulled Alex up to kiss him hard above me.

With his magnificent grace and agility, Remy pushed Alex back and slid across me. In one flowing motion, he thrust into my brother and began to fuck him furiously. I'd recovered enough by then to sit up. So many weeks of tactile isolation drove me up onto my knees to stroke Remy's back as I crawled around to my brother's head. His legs were thrown above Remy's shoulders and he was grunting with the fury of Remy's thrusts. As I placed my hands against his temples and bent to kiss him, he hollered into my mouth and climaxed with a force to match Remy's pace. Remy arched his back immediately as if Alex were pulling his orgasm from him, and he began to drench my brother thoroughly. I felt all of it. Like a backlashing current, I felt Remy cum, and I sucked away Alex's breath with my kiss. My God! The pleasure bordered on pain, sensory overload as I experienced not just Remy's orgasm, but the afterglow of my brother's.

It was almost too much and I wrenched my mouth and hands from Alex. He sucked in a breath that sounded like a sob and let his legs drop off Remy's shoulders. Remy collapsed on him with a muffled groan.

I should have felt that warmth, that tingling sensation of bliss that signaled afterglow. I should have been basking in the minute twitches of my muscles sending afterwaves of pleasure shooting to my brain. Instead, I scrambled back against the head of the bed in fear. I was choked with panic. Dropping my head against the headboard, I took in slow deep breaths trying to calm the terror. It had a focus. There was a reason. And I knew then I now had a limited amount of time to escape before Remy Lebeau had me body and soul.

When I opened my eyes, Remy was watching me, his eyes still glowing in the darkness. He knew. I felt sure he knew. It was only a matter of time before I broke just like Alex had and told Remy I belonged to him.