Fortress
by Becca Abbott
Part 6
Els did as he was told. He stayed away from the mongrel's cell. Keeping his mind off the prisoner, however, was another matter. Last night's harrowing arrival still upset him. He had an ugly bruise on his ribs from the bastard's foot and another on his stomach. Just when he was hoping that Draco would ask him to start giving performances again, too.
But who could have imagined that a mongrel could be so beautiful? Els paused, his pen hovering above the drawing sheet, and stared at the collection of lines on it. The man was like some rare, exotic creation from the gen labs. And the way he'd looked at Els last night after Draco had put the pet ring on him – eyes so wild and filled with angry fire. As if he actually had a right to object to anything Draco chose to do to him.
You're a mongrel, thought Els furiously. He threw down his pen and jumped to his feet, running through the apartment to the back corridor. Staring down its length at the force-door, he wondered what the mongrel was doing, naked and chained.
Available.
"Els?" Draco's voice drifted through the apartment. Els jumped. His master was back already!
The Blondie gave him a quizzical look as he ran into the front room, breathless. Draco's eyes lit on his loincloth and widened slightly. Els, mortified, felt his face heat.
"Well, well," said the Blondie with a slow smile. "And what have you been doing, little one?"
"I – nothing, sir."
Draco smirked, handing over his jacket. Els pulled it against his waist, glad to have something to cover his lower body.
"It has been awhile, hasn't it?" his master observed. "I was thinking it might be time I released a little tension of my own. Maybe tonight after dinner, you can perform for me."
Els' heart leapt joyfully. "Yes, sir! That would be great!"
"Everything quiet while I was gone today?"
"Yes, sir."
"How about our guest?"
"He shouted for a while, wanting someone to come talk to him, but I stayed away like you said."
"Good. As you saw last night, he's very strong. I don't think he'll give us any more trouble, but just in case, I want to be around when you go in that room."
"Do you think it's true, sir?"
"What?"
"That he – that he and his master had sex?"
Draco stared blankly at Els a moment, then shrugged. "With Iason Mink, any depravity is possible. Have you started supper?"
"I was just about to, sir. Is there anything special you want?"
"No. Just remember to feed the prisoner, too."
"Yes, sir."
Draco smiled absently and disappeared into his study. Els retreated to the kitchen, head in the clouds. He loved performing for Draco. To feel his master's warm gaze on him as he stroked himself, to know that he was arousing the Blondie's mysterious desires – it was not only Els' duty, it was his greatest pleasure. What would Draco want tonight? Simple auto-stimulation or should Els bring out the props? It had been too long, he thought dreamily. Tonight, he would give Draco the show of his life!
But first – feed the mongrel.
Els frowned at his pitiful array of cupboards. Somewhere, he had seen a box of standard troop rations when they'd moved in. Of course he'd ignored them. As if he'd serve Draco that crap. They should be more than good enough for the mongrel, though.
Nothing about the creature was pet-like. No real pet would have fought like that, especially against a Blondie. No real pet would have stared so boldly into the eyes of his betters. This Iason Mink must be very strong to control such a pet, thought Els, fingers tightening around the vacuum-packed bundle. Then he gave himself a little shake. Mink might be strong, but Draco was stronger. And the mongrel, for all his exotic sensuality, was still just a mongrel. He should be put in his place and as soon as possible. Draco, of course, was far too busy to attend to it, but there was no reason Els couldn't, was there? The mongrel was chained up, after all, and Draco had said only that Els wasn't to go in there while Draco was not in the apartment.
Ripping open the packet, Els dumped the contents carelessly into a bowl. He poured water onto it and shoved the bowl into the box-cooker. When the food was hot, he carried the unappetizing mess to the mongrel's cell.
The creature was lying on his bed, long, naked body curled tightly under the thin blanket. Cold, probably, thought Els with some satisfaction. The heater in the room had been removed to guard against any piece of it being torn away and used for a weapon.
Els slipped through the force-door, stopping just inside, out of reach. The mongrel sat up, eyes narrowed on the bowl.
"If you want something to eat," Els said, "you can kiss my feet and ask nicely for it."
"And you can kiss my ass," retorted the prisoner.
"You heard Major Brand last night. You do whatever you're told! You're just a scummy mongrel."
"Then why do you want my scummy lips on your foot?" the mongrel countered. His eyes gleamed dangerously. "Leave the food and go away."
Losing his temper, Els set down the bowl. He reached to the floor for the cable. Too late, the prisoner figured out what he intended and tried to brace himself. Els gave the cable a furious tug and the mongrel slid from the bed and landed hard on his bare ass.
Smirking, Els said. "I'm waiting."
With a bitter look, the mongrel bowed his head, then came forward on his hands and knees. Els looked down at the dark head as it bent above his foot. The next instant, he was falling, legs knocked out from under him. He hit the floor with bone-jarring force, cracking his head against the tiles. For several moments, nothing made sense. Then Els was gasping for breath under the mongrel's weight and staring at a fist flying toward his face.
"NO!" he cried, thinking only that if his face was bruised, too, Draco would never want him to perform. He raised his arms desperately to shield himself, gasping as they absorbed a vicious blow. He was sure the mongrel would strike again, but instead he heard a curse and the mongrel got off him. Els rolled over onto his side, seeing stars. He heard the scrape of the steel cable as the prisoner moved across the room and retrieved the bowl.
Then, "What the hell is going on here?"
Blinking tears of pain from his eyes, Els looked up. Standing in the doorway was Draco. The Blondie looked down at Els, then across to the mongrel who stood, staring defiantly back, dinner in his hands.
"Your pet thinks he can order me around," replied the mongrel. "I may be your prisoner, Blondie, but I'll be damned if I'll be at the beck and call of your lap dog."
Draco's expression did not change, but the mongrel suddenly gasped and dropped the bowl. The rations slid in a disgusting lump to the floor. Els stifled his own involuntary cry as the prisoner doubled over, hands flying to his cock. It was the ring, thought Els with a sickening lurch of his gut. He remembered the punisher-ring. His former master had been very fond of it.
"What did you tell him to do?" Draco asked Els, voice quiet. Els' heart sank. He ducked his head.
"Speak up, damn it!"
Face burning, Els told him.
Draco sighed. "Bad behavior all around, it would seem."
Els hung his head and glared at the mongrel who, at that moment, he hated with an all-consuming passion. As for the mongrel, he knelt at Draco's feet, fists clenched on his bare knees, head bowed, shoulders rigid. The Blondie looked down at him, then seized a handful of the dark hair and pulled the mongrel's face to the light.
"I do not expect to tell you things more than once. What you want counts for nothing here. My duty is only to keep you in custody until Jupiter decides what's to be done with you. Nothing was said about how you were to be treated."
He released the mongrel and turned to his pet. "And you were fortunate you weren't more badly hurt."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"In my study, in a box by the door, are some shackles. Bring them to me."
Els, apprehensive, hurried away, rubbing at his bruised arm. Finding the requested items, he ran back. Was the mongrel going to be punished? He placed the chains in Draco's hand. The prisoner didn't move, but Els saw the muscles in that fine body tighten. Quietly, Draco said, "My pet told you to kiss his feet. Do it."
Els caught his breath, triumphant. A faint, bitter smile touched the mongrel's generous mouth. Then, with unexpected grace, the captive bent forward again, touching his head briefly to the floor. The only sound in the room was the dragging of the chain as he crawled through the ruins of his supper to the pet.
The mongrel had been trained. There was no other explanation for the sheer artistry in the way he put his lips against El's narrow foot and covered it with kisses. Was that the flicker of his tongue? Els shivered. The feel of those long, strong fingers as they gently held his ankle, the shivery sensation of the mongrel licking and nuzzling along the arch sent shocks of heat through him. Under the loincloth, Els' sex hardened.
Heart beating faster, throat dry, Els barely noticed Draco walk past him and sit on the edge of the mongrel's bed. "That's enough. Els, fasten his hands behind his back." With enthusiasm, Els bent and roughly locked the mongrel's wrists together.
"Come here," Draco said, holding out his hand to Els. The pet came to him at once. Gently, Draco turned him so that Els stood with his shoulder to the Blondie.
"Now, mongrel," Draco said, "Let's see how good your mouth is. Get over here and pleasure the boy."
Els' jaw dropped. His heart stumbled. For a moment, he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "M-master?"
"You started this," Draco said shortly. "Next time, think before you decide to alter my orders. Undo your loincloth."
Els' arousal evaporated. He shot Draco a look of horrified entreaty. "B-but.... He's a mongrel! P-please, sir! I'm sorry! I didn't think..."
"I could tie you down and let the mongrel do what he likes."
Els bit his lip, trembling with anger and humiliation. Obediently he unfastened the little bit of satin, freeing his genitals. He glared resentfully at the mongrel. Then, sulkily, not daring to look at his master, he grabbed the prisoner by the hair. "Open up," he ordered, and roughly shoved his softening cock inside.
The mongrel's fingers knotted into fists at his back. Els watched a tremor run through that well-formed body and knew the mongrel hated this just as much as he did. Too fucking bad. Holding the prisoner still, he began pumping his hips, driving himself into the captive's mouth, forcing choking gasps at the roughness of his movements.
Then the mongrel seemed to gather his wits and his tongue began to move. He started to suck insistently on Els' penis, timing his actions to the pet's thrusts. Against his will, the boy felt his body begin to respond, his sex to harden in that skilled grasp. Warmth and pleasure rolled up from that point at the bottom of his belly to confound him. He was dimly furious when he heard himself moan, fingers tightening in the soft, dark hair. The mongrel's mouth was so tight, so strong. It pulled and kneaded at him, making him whimper like some cheap whore. A tiny part of Els hated it; the rest of him was panting and desperate to be taken as deep into that cavity as he could go.
God! Was the bastard a demon? A magician? A prod of the tongue, a quick succession of pulls and Els began to tremble. How was he doing that – and without his hands? The young pet was dimly aware that Draco had reached out to steady him, but the next instant, the mongrel did something with his throat that drove all thoughts from Els' mind. There was a second of unbearable need and pressure, then a universe of suns went off behind his eyes.
For an eternity, Els was insensible. Reality came back slowly. He was in his master's arms. The mongrel was looking up at him, grinning. Els wanted to be angry, to knock that cocky look right off the dark, handsome face, but he could barely stand.
"That's enough," Draco said, voice hoarse. He retrieved Els' loincloth and pushed it into the boy's shaking hand. Then he shepherded his shattered pet from the room. Even breathless and confused, Els could not miss the hard line of his master's erection in his trousers.
"I'll be in my study for about an hour. After that, I'll expect dinner."
"S-sir," whispered Els, wishing he could sink into the floor. He knew without a doubt that he and the mongrel had just given his master a performance unlike any other. Swallowing on the lump in his throat, he watched Draco walk away, then, with dragging feet, made his own way to the kitchen.