The Copper Horse #1 Fear (17 page)

The groom's eyes widened for a moment, but then he shook his head, leaning closer to Reuben. "Please, don't tell the master! He would throw me back onto the streets!"

"Just make sure they don't do that again. My arms hurt..."

"I'm so sorry!" Jack flung his arms around Reuben. "I can give you a massage."

"Sounds good, but will this happen often? Does he just tie down his 'horses' and leave them for hours?" He was desperate to know more.

"Not usually," Jack assured him as he got up from the floor. "He must have forgotten about it."

"Oh, well... I'll just keep on thinking about dinner." All Reuben wanted was to forget the looks the other servants gave him.

Chapter 8

"No!" Reuben shouted. He was still sore and he did not want the tail back in! Why the hell would he need it for dinner anyway? He needed a pair of trousers, that's what he needed.

Jack scowled. "Please, Copper, there is no use protesting. You have to understand that!"

They were in Reuben's stall. He was all cleaned up, fresh smelling (which he loved), with a new haircut (which he didn't love), but he did not want to have anything to do with the tail!

"What's happening here?" Erik's voice chilled Reuben's skin.

Reuben glanced over Jack's arm to where the sound was coming from. "Erik, sir, I have done everything you wished for. Even my toenails are clean and trimmed! I just... don't want the tail."

"Well, you have to wear the tail if I say so. Stop struggling, my pretty boy." Erik entered the stall, dressed all in white this time. He must have changed after coming back from town, and once again he wore an outfit that stressed his nicely toned thighs and backside. The trousers were made of shiny, white leather and tucked into them was a thin shirt that revealed Erik's smooth chest and a tiny golden pendant. White knee-high riding boots and a riding crop of the same colour completed the outfit. The scars at the sides of Erik's lips were the only thing that somehow disturbed the illusion of sterile perfection.

"I am a grown man." Reuben took a step back. "I might even be older than you."

"Doesn't matter," said his owner, coming closer. "If you don't comply I might ask Hans to intervene."

That made Reuben look away. Being manhandled by Hans was the last thing he wanted. "It's so uncomfortable," he tried to argue, but a leather-clad hand on his back shut him up.

"You will get used to it."

"It's embarrassing. This house is full of people." He tried to reason with Erik, though he already knew it was useless. That man would do whatever he wanted anyway.

He stroked Reuben's arm with a quiet sigh. "It won't matter to you in a few days."

"How about I do wear the tail, but you set my hands free? They're numb," whined Reuben, slouching to nuzzle Erik's cheek. It got him a smile that reached those cold, mismatched eyes.

"Well, I could lessen your discomfort. How about that?"

"Please." Reuben didn't have any fight left in him. His arms had been bound for hours, and all he wanted was relief, even if it meant taking it up the ass again.

Erik kissed him on the cheek and reached out to take the tail out of Jack's hand. "All right then; bend over."

Those words sent a shiver down Reuben's spine. How could one man be so tender and cruel all at once? There was a high bench in his stall that Jack had tried to force him onto before, so he walked up to it and reluctantly leaned over it. Reuben avoided Erik's gaze at all cost, as he would have either spat in his master's face, or cried, or moaned in delight. None of which was a good option right now.

His owner's every move was marked by a squeak of leather. It had to be very fresh.

"That's it." Erik's voice was tight as he gently touched his bare back, and soon after Reuben felt a blunt presence at his rear.

"Please, don't make it hurt." Reuben barely recognized his own voice. It sounded so pleading, broken. He shut his eyes as if it could shield him from what was to come and curled his toes in a moment of unbearable tension.

"Oh, Copper, I never wanted to hurt you." Erik slowly pushed the phallus into Reuben's sensitive anus. It wasn't big, but with all the tension, it still caused discomfort.

"Can you let my hands go now?" Reuben's breathing got louder as he tried to adjust to the tail, taking the result of his lost battle like a man.

"You know, Copper, the more you relax, the less uncomfortable you will be," said Jack from beneath the wall where he'd retreated.

"Stop teasing him, it's cruel!" Erik chuckled. "Give me the leg sides."

Reuben didn't even notice when he'd started shaking. It was all too much. He didn't even want to know what 'leg sides' were.

"Face me, Copper." Erik was surprisingly patient. As if he wanted to make an effort.

Reuben didn't want to look at him, but he did it anyway, already feeling a flush on his face at the thought that he was so exposed.

"This humiliation is not going to end now, is it?" he snarled all of a sudden, losing his temper.

"Do you still wish for more comfort, Copper?" Erik's words carried a clear threat.

"Just please let my arms go."

Jack returned to the stall, holding a set of leather cuffs and metal. "You want me to do it, master?"

Erik's eyes skimmed over him and he nodded, moving away to make room. The groom came close to Reuben with an apprehensive smile. "This will be much more comfortable."

Reuben turned his back to him without a word. All he wanted was to have the braces taken off. It'd been hours, and he was in a strange place between numbness and pain. In this situation, the tail was at least taking away some of his focus.

Jack kneeled behind him and strapped soft, leather braces on both of his naked thighs, a few inches below Reuben's groin.

"Are you hungry, Copper?" Erik sat on a hay pack with a wide grin. "Because I'm starving."

Reuben wanted to snap at him, but when he finally got to change the position of his arms, he felt so relieved that all he did was nod. His wrists were now attached to the sides of his legs by comfortable leather cuffs. With his hands and back not so strained anymore, he could finally take a normal breath. What's more, the chains attaching thighs and wrists gave him enough freedom to finally stretch comfortably.

"And? How do you like it, Copper?" Erik came closer, holding a halter similar to the one Reuben had worn earlier.

"It's a lot better," he admitted, but as hungry as he was, the idea of eating dinner naked, with bound hands and that tail sticking out of his ass made him cringe.

Erik's face lit up, and he touched Reuben's cheeks and gently brushed their lips together. "That's more like it!" He moved the halter to the top of his head.

Reuben wanted to say something, but he gave up when he noticed Hans standing still in a far off corner. He'd rather bite his tongue and submit than risk another close encounter with those iron arms. He couldn't understand why Erik would kiss him and then do something like this. Fortunately, the halter was more for show than anything else as it missed the bit. Not giving Reuben enough time to enjoy this, Erik asked Jack for the horse ears.

Having his arms so relieved and nothing in his mouth, Reuben shifted his focus to Erik more than anything else. By now, he knew there was not much point in protesting, but he was getting immensely curious about both the man and his household. It was common knowledge that some men were just perverted by nature to like all sorts of filthy acts. Just like him. But this horse thing? He couldn't crack that mystery, so he decided to simply ask, "Why a horse?"

"Now that's a silly question, Copper!" Erik stuck the leather ears in place. "Isn't it obvious that I love horses?"

"I love pork stew, but I don't wanna fuck it." He studied his master's handsome features, so symmetrical they seemed almost otherworldly. His master's face relaxed when he burst out laughing.

"Oh, Copper, what a brilliant sense of humor you have!" Erik pinpointed his words with a slap to Reuben's behind.

"Let's just get on to the food." He shook his head, trying to pretend the smack had never happened.

"My stallion is hungry!" Erik sounded delighted and he forced his head down with the reins to nuzzle his lips and nose.

Reuben furrowed his eyebrow, but didn't try to struggle. The gesture reminded him of how their neighbor's daughter treated her cat. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but he tried to find the answer in Erik's eyes. A loud groan rang in Reuben's ears when his owner urged his mouth open with his tongue. It felt strangely cool, as if he'd just finished drinking cold water. Reuben looked down at him, standing there like a statue, but he drew back as soon as Erik's pull lessened. "Not hungry for that," he muttered.

Erik licked his lips slowly, as if he was savoring Reuben's taste for later.

Reuben looked into his eyes. "You can have some of my gravy for pudding." Was that too much to say?

Erik's eyebrows rose, but the rest of his face seemed as if carved in stone. When he finally spoke, his voice was devoid of all emotion. "Gravy's disgusting."

"You still fed me yours." Reuben took a step back.

For a moment, Erik looked stunned and then, just like that, he burst out laughing.

"What do you know, you aren't as stupid as I was told, Copper!" He pulled on the reins to lead him toward the door.

Reuben let out a long huff but didn't resist. He hated that so many people called him that. Including his father. He'd always wanted to prove them wrong, but it looked like he'd never get the chance now that he'd ended up as some nutjob's man-horse. Right now, he felt more like a donkey than a stallion.

Erik guided him out of the stable room. As they walked down the corridor, Reuben's bare feet sank into the plush carpeting. A servant peeked out of one of the rooms and Reuben quickly looked away. The curiosity only reminded him of just how naked and ridiculous he was. The plug in his rear added to the discomfort, forcing him to wiggle his hips a bit. At least it wasn't long enough to tickle his sweet spot. Now that would be embarrassing.

At the end of the corridor, he saw one of the men who'd teased him today. Notably, it was the one who'd called him stupid. Reuben had to admit that he was tall and handsome, especially in the outfit he was wearing: a pair of fitted trousers with a tight, low cut waistcoat that did nothing to hide his well-toned torso and arms. He had to take another look to make sure that his eyes didn't deceive him. The man didn't have a shirt underneath!

"Master Erik," he muttered, moving to open a double door for them.

"Thank you, John."

Reuben dared a look at the handsome servant, but as soon as he entered the dining room behind Erik, he was left speechless, John already forgotten. It had to be up to fifty feet long and larger than most pubs in Reuben's part of town. All the walls were covered by impressive woodwork. The relief of a forest varied in thickness, some of the parts resembling trees growing out of the wall. It felt as if he'd entered a scene from a dark fairy tale. Carved branches crawled over the walls and onto the dome-like ceiling. For a moment, when they passed a particularly pronounced part of the tree, Reuben got the impression it was reaching for his hair, and he shivered. This had to be a horrible place to be at night.

They made their way toward the massive banquet table, which was now covered by a pale green cloth. On top of it stood several thick candle holders, and as Erik led Reuben along the table, he noticed that although they were parts of a set, each had a different wild animal curled around the base. Reuben looked up the wall on the other side of the table. They were now level with one of the six large paintings framed by the woodwork, without a doubt designed specifically for this purpose. This particular piece depicted a young huntsman mounting a large stag. The painter had rendered both the human and animal muscles in meticulous detail, which produced the illusion of movement. The young man's shirtless body was tense, and he held onto the antlers as if his life depended on it.

Reuben had never seen a painting that accurate and lifelike. He stopped mid-way, staring at it, even though he felt Erik tug at the reins.

"You like them?"

"They're like... real," Reuben muttered, looking up at what he thought were hunting trophies. "You like stags, too?" He laughed, but the sound got stuck in his throat when he understood that it wasn't an animal head he was looking at. It was a zombie. A fucking stuffed zombie head! Who on earth would keep something like this on the wall? In the dining room! The feeling of intimidation at the pit of his stomach was only strengthened by the quality of craftsmanship. The glass eyes were so lifelike he half-expected the undead to flash him a hungry glance. It had the face of a young man with a black eye, which might have been enhanced by the taxidermist. What was even more petrifying, the undead's mouth was sewn up with thick, black thread, as if someone wanted to symbolically silence him, even after death.

"Ah, I only watch them from afar. Too wild to tame, you understand." Erik answered his question with a hint of amusement.

Reuben's mind though failed to register his words as he ran his gaze along a whole row of stuffed zombie heads, just to find the same display on the other side when he turned around. One of the heads, though, was not of an undead. Stuffed just like the others, with glass eyes and lips sewn together, but he was human. At least when he'd been alive. A strikingly handsome male with skin the color of strong beer and a frame of dark hair.