This update contains scenes some readers may find upsetting.

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On the floor, Edward sobbed, his arms about himself. Why wasn’t Dickie here? No-one could punish him like Dickie did. No-one else could make him take his physic when he needed it.

Dickie, sitting at his desk in shirtsleeves. Dickie, with his black coat hanging upon the back of the chair over which – some weeks ago – Teddy had bent for that first flogging. He stood as Teddy came in and smiled, not a warm and generous smile, but something triumphant and cold, a smile that it went through Teddy like a knife. “Close the door,” Thornton said. 

Teddy obeyed.

“And lock it.”

Again, he did as he was bidden. Thornton held out his hand for the key. With the sense of his stomach dropping from him, Teddy passed it over. 

“Where are your manners, Valance?”

“My-?”

The hand holding the key became a fist which knocked him down. 

Teddy fell to the floor with a short grunt of pain, bruising his knees on the bare boards. Slowly, he pulled himself up again.

“Yes, your manners. Come,” Thornton spread his arms wide. “I have invited you into my apartments. What does one commonly say upon entering a gentleman’s rooms?”

“Good evening, Thornton,” Teddy said to the floor.

“Back straight,” Thornton instructed, “and look at me when you speak.”

Teddy repeated himself.

“Good boy,” and Thornton reached up, caressing his face, his neck, and then with careless movements, pulling off the necktie which he had knotted with vigour a few hours beforehand. “See, I knew you could do it. Get on your knees.”

As he knelt, he felt Thornton’s eyes burning into him with the steady agony of boiling oil poured on to flinching skin. There was something eager, nervous, fierce about him that night, something hungry. 

“Don’t pout. You look good enough down there as it is, Valance. Kneeling. At my feet.”

Teddy said nothing.

“It’s where you belong.”

Nothing.

“Isn’t it?”

“Yes, Thornton,” he said, but he forgot to look up. He was slapped, hard, and then a hand was beneath his chin, pinching, shoving him to look upwards.

“Let’s try that again, shall we?”

“Yes,” Teddy said, with blood dripping from his lip, “yes, Thornton. It’s where I belong.”

The hand moved over his face, a rough caress upon the bruises, pulling on his lips, pressing the hollows around his eyes. “Such a pretty little dog. But so very badly trained.” A soft tut. “It seems I’m going to have to hurt you, Valance. Do you want me to hurt you?”

Teddy took a few shallow breaths, getting himself ready to look up, to speak clearly and not stutter. “Whatever you want, Thornton.”

And that, that brought the ghost of a laugh to Thornton’s stern face, a little brush of pride and Teddy tried, tried not to feel himself warm to that, not to feel honoured by it. 

Thornton pinched Teddy’s ear, firmly but not wrenching it or twisting, “How sweet. But that? That is not” and there it was, the blow across his face again, the burst of light across his vision, “what I asked, my dear dog. I asked what you wanted.” 

And Thornton dragged his head up again, pushed his chin back so that Teddy had no choice but to stare up into a face so beautiful he wanted to close his eyes to shield himself from its glory, “Do you want me to hurt you?”

“I–”

“Answer me, Valance. Nice and clear.”

Teddy felt his prick twitching, felt his blood rushing to his skin, felt himself tremble. “Yes,” he whispered, and because he knew that wouldn’t be enough, “Yes, Dickie.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“Please, Dickie. I want you to hurt me.”

“Beg,” said Thornton, and he took another step towards Teddy, pressing his own cockstand forward, towards Teddy’s closed mouth.

But he had had no words, just the huff of breath in his throat, a dryness on his tongue.

“Well?”

He thought he might cry.

“Can you not speak?” 

A pinch on his ear, a rough brush of cloth against his lips.

Teddy shook his head.

“Lord, you really are a dog, aren’t you?” 

The fingers tightened on his ear, and in answer, Teddy pressed himself against those long, powerful legs, the bulge in those britches, fawning like a spaniel, thrilled to terror by Thornton’s gloating voice, his tall and dreadful presence. He was still at it when hands seized him, stripping him bare, turning him about, throwing him back down to the floor. 

He didn’t bring his hands up in time, landed face first on the hard boards. Perhaps he cried out, but all Teddy knew was stunning pain across his face, was blood in his throat.

Thornton’s hand shoved against his arse, fingers probing, rough, pushing in to him. 

“Ow,” Teddy said, “no,” and, “Dickie, please,”, trying to make some kind of pause, but Thornton had only hooked an arm about his legs and yanked him backwards, ramming two blunt, cruel fingers inside him. 

Teddy’s whole body clenched, sweating, eyes watering. He felt that he would rip open, as though he would be ripped to shreds, as though there was a knife twisting in his flesh, as though Thornton’s fingers were rusty blades. 

“Good Lord, stay still,” Thornton said, and shoved his fingers deeper. He was panting, his voice deep and rough. “You said anything I wanted, didn’t you?”

Teddy tried to relax, but his legs were hard columns of muscle, his back was arched with pain. He could not breathe through his nose, there was too much blood in his nose. 

“Didn’t you, Valance?” And he was hauled back again on to those cruel fingers.

Teddy looked down at floorboards made black by all the boots that had trampled over them, at the drip, drip of crimson blood beginning to fall on them. He sniffed it back, almost choking on it.

“Lord, you’re not snivelling again, are you?”

“No. No, Dickie, no I’m not,” he said and tried to remember the side of this he enjoyed, the part of it that stirred some wild adoration in him. 

“Don’t lie. And stop fighting. This is what I want. I want you to take it.” And a grunt as the fingers thrust at him again. “Oh, this is pathetic. You act like the cock of the walk until someone hurts you. Until I hurt you.” 

And the fingers were dragged from him, and Thornton was fumbling behind him, and then came the pressure of Thornton’s prick against his arse. 

“The second I do that, you’re nothing but a snivelling wretch.” He shoved forward with his hips, “Show a little backbone, Valance.”

Teddy clenched his fists and tried not to scream. 

“No,” he said, when he could breathe, “Dickie, please stop.”

Thornton grabbed his hips, and shoved again, gasping, his voice become low, “No. You’re mine. You’re mine, aren’t you? Say it, Teddy. Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Teddy sobbed, through gritted teeth, wanting to run as Thornton thrust in to flesh that felt as though it could never, would never yield.

“Ah. Yes, Yes.” Another savage push, and Teddy felt himself torn apart, felt himself invaded, and he moaned deep in fear and hurt. 

“Without me,” Thornton said, “you’d just be another worthless little moll. Whoring for favours. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, desperate, casting about for something that would make this stop, that would give Thornton what he wanted and end this, “Please, Thornton, I–” The pool of blood before his eyes was spreading, spreading.

“But now,” and Thornton was stroking his back, his neck, his prick, “oh, my sweet Teddy, you’re mine,” and he was rocking back and forth, deeper, deeper, and he was speaking low and rhythmic, “and I won’t have you disgracing yourself. You’re mine. If anyone wants this arse of yours or those pretty lips they’re going to have to ask me.” And he gasped, and thrust deeper.

And the pain, which had fallen away a little, screamed back into existence, became something wild and frustrating, something almost fulfilling. 

Teddy cried out, still struggling to escape, “Please, stop, Thornton, please.”

“Stay still.” A hand slapped into his thigh, licking through him with another, sharper pain. “Oh, you wanted this. You’ve been begging for this. For exactly this.”

“Dickie,” and he was sobbing. There was blood running down his face and he had been sobbing, “Please.”

“No, no.” Another slap. “That won’t get you anywhere. I know what you’re like.” Thornton begun to thrust with swift viciousness. 

Teddy felt himself stretch, felt himself be damaged, felt something in him break. 

“You’re enjoying this,” Thornton said, “I know you are.”