WARNING: this chapter contains painful sex. Not non con, but cruel. I have kept
it fairly brief, but those who do not like hurt/comfort should read with caution


The melodic tune of the cheery music carried though the great dining room and 
into the ballroom of the Mortensen Manor at Walker Estates. White roses 
decorated the Grand room and accentuated the gold of the woodwork and ceiling. A
fine chandelier lit up the ballroom, aided by electric lights and candles. Many
guests were currently dancing, while others were standing about enjoying the 
fine champagne offered by their gracious host. 

As soon as the fine dinner was over and they had heard the toasts of Viggo’s 
business and social acquaintances, the blonde Dane suggested they move their 
festivities into the ballroom where he could enjoy the first dance with his 
lovely new spouse. He twirled the willowy young man around the dance floor with
a proud grin plastered across his chiseled features. The guests clapped as they
danced, Orlando only participating as much as he had to, increasing his zeal for
the festivities when Viggo tightly gripped his hand on his waist in warning. 

Orlando allowed himself to be led around the room. He was introduced to several
Lords and Ladies, including many of Viggo’s old University friends. He met Lord
and Lady Pitt and their son, William, whom Viggo referred to as Brad. 

“This is my Orlando, Brad,” Viggo said, keeping an arm about the young man in a
manner of ownership. “Darling, this is my friend Brad. Do you remember him? I 
know I have mentioned him several times.”

Orlando nodded and accepted the man’s warm hand and tried to look at his face 
yet avoid his blue eyes. The man smiled at him, chuckling at a joke he and Viggo
obviously shared. “You were not exaggerating, Vig.” The man said, his voice deep
and rumbling. “He is indeed a beauty.”

Orlando heard Viggo’s responding chuckle and felt cold. He felt another hand on
his back and turned to see Ian and Lady Smith behind him…with Mrs. Dench.

“Hello boy,” Mrs. Dench said, her face hard but her eyes warm. Her hands were 
clasped before her as she stood, and Orlando swore he saw the beginnings of 
tears in her eyes. 

“Hello,” Orlando said quietly, nodding towards her as he used to in greeting but
finding it most foolish now. He saw Ian beside her and felt the older man’s warm
palm against his cheek. He fought the urge to rub against the comforting hand 
and instead forced a small smile. 

“Ah, Lady Smith, how good to see you,” Viggo said, taking the woman’s hand and 
kissing the top of it in a gesture of false chivalry. “How did you enjoy the 
ceremony?”

“Lovely flowers,” she said curtly. She pursed her lips and looked at Orlando. 
She eyed the boy from head to toe, taking note of his garments. “You quite 
remind me of a porcelain doll…” she said. “Yes…a doll all dressed up for its 
owner to show off. I remember you well from Christopher’s house. As I recall, 
you had a great deal of fire in you…wherever has that fire gone?”

“Maggie” Ian hissed slightly, but she paid him no mind. When Orlando looked up,
he realized that the old woman was not looking at him, but at Viggo. The blonde
 man tightened his grip on Orlando’s waist. 

“I do regret that I had to rush my poor darling so much…I fear I may have 
overworked him this last week and that the excitement has finally caught up with
him.” The man spoke clearly and evenly, challenging one of them to question him. 

Orlando looked at the ground.

“That must be it,” Maggie said, taking a sip of her Champagne and pursing her 
thin lips again. 

Mrs. Dench finally turned and quickly walked away towards a balcony. Orlando
watched her leave, wishing he could run after her and beg her forgiveness for 
whatever wrong he was sure he had committed against her. His thoughts were cut 
off when Viggo tipped his chin up and kissed him hard on the lips. 

The man finally broke the kiss and said to Orlando as well as for the benefit of
Lord McKellen and Lady Smith, “How about another dance, darling?”


Ian watched the man lead the boy away to the dance floor, hearing Maggie snort 
in distaste. He turned to her as though trying to read her and shook his head. 
“Have a little compassion, woman,” he said, his voice dark.

She shook her head. “That child has compassion. He has you and that poor Irish 
boy who is sick in love with him…I head it from my own valet. It is Mortensen 
that needs to know he can’t get away with everything. That man thinks he can do
whatever he likes and for all the good we do he bloody well can. As long as you
pine over poor Orlando, Mortensen continues to do as he pleases and parades the
child in front of you.” She kept her clear eyes on Ian, knowing her next words
would hurt but needing to say them. “If Christopher were still alive, this 
wedding never would have taken place…you know that…”

Ian’s eyes began to burn; he looked down at the floor and refused to answer. It
was the only response Maggie needed before taking his arm. 

“Come along now, let’s go collect my friend.”

Ian followed her to the balcony where Mrs. Dench had gone and found the women 
looking out over the balcony, her hand clamped over her mouth as she sobbed, hot
tears streaming down her face. 

Maggie wrapped an arm around her friend. “There there,” she soothed, rubbing the
other old woman’s shoulder to comfort her. 

“He has no life in him…” the woman said, he voice whispery. “He is as dead as 
the others…”

Orlando shook the hand of yet another of Viggo’s friends and heard yet more 
comments of his looks. His head was spinning from all the dancing and his body 
cold. He had to get out of the room. He had to be alone. 

It was dark outside. He could see it through the open doors to the balconies and
when he looked to the clock he saw it was near nine in the evening. Orlando 
prayed that he had been displayed enough for the evening and that Viggo would 
allow him to retire. 

He had avoided Colin all night. The Irishman was being used as a server and 
Orlando had tried his hardest to not be around the man at all. He could not bear
to see is friend this night. 

Viggo was currently introducing Orlando to yet another group of people, and the
young man finally slumped slightly against Viggo, placing the back of his hand 
on his forehead. One of the ladies gasped and stretched her arms forward as 
though the action would keep the young man from falling. Viggo caught his new 
spouse by the arm and held him firmly. 

“My darling,” he said, his brows knit with worry. “Are you all right?”

Orlando kept his hand to his head and looked innocently at the guests. “I fear I
feel a bit faint. My head is spinning…”

“Sounds like the boy has had too much excitement.” one of the men said, laughing
heartily to himself with a glass of champagne in hand. Orlando managed a weak 
smile and turned to Viggo. 

“Forgive me, but I think I need to lie down for a while.”

Viggo’s eyes darkened in slight irritation but he kept his sympathetic smile for
the crowd. “I shall fetch Davenport and have him take you to bed immediately.
Forgive me friends…I sometimes forget how fragile he can be. Allow me to see 
that my darling is attended to and then I shall return.” he turned to Orlando 
and whispered in his ear, “Say goodnight darling.”

“Goodnight,” Orlando said softly before he allowed himself to be led off. 

Mortensen held Orlando’s arm tightly as he led him across the room to Davenport,
the whole while smiling to guests and caressing Orlando in an affectionate 
manner. The blonde Lord eventually found his valet and handed Orlando to him. 
“My poor darling is done for the night. Would you please see him to my room and
make sure his is situated for the night. See that he is changed and comfortable,
understood?”

Davenport nodded and took a light hold of Orlando’s arm, looking to others as 
though he was aiding the weary boy but really guiding him. Orlando let himself
be led, glad to finally be leaving the reception. He was also glad that the man
did not speak to him. He was relieved for a little silence after the hours of 
lies and polite deceit. 

Though the silence was a release, Orlando did feel uneasy. Out of everyone he 
had met in his time with Mortensen, Davenport frightened him the worst. Orlando
never new what to expect from the valet. Davenport had an unbreakable loyalty to
his employer. 

Orlando did not know where such loyalty came from, especially to a despicable 
man like Mortensen. He would ask Davenport about his history with Viggo if only
the man didn’t scare him so much. 

Davenport took Orlando up the back staircase, out of the view of the guests. He
gestured with his hands, not speaking a word as they walked. His fingers
remained tight around his upper arm, supporting him and keeping him close. 

Orlando realized that he was not being led to his own room, but to Viggo’s. He
supposed he should have known, but it still made his stomach tighten. He entered
the room slowly, looking around as though he expected someone or something to be
waiting for him inside. The room was of course empty as he entered it, Davenport
trailing behind and shutting the door. 

At the sound of the door closing, Orlando turned at the sound and felt his 
breath catch in trepidation as he backed himself away. “What are you…?”

“Lord Mortensen said to make sure you got into bed, and I intend to do it.” The
man walked to a chair by the bed and picked up a dressing gown. He turned to the
young man and gestured to his clothes. “Would you like me to help you undress 
sir?”

Orlando shook his head slowly, his brows furrowing and slight wrinkles of worry
form in his forehead. 

Davenport nodded and folded his arms, waiting for Orlando to do the task 
himself. He held the dressing gown as he waited for the young man to take off 
his clothes. He watched Orlando with cold disinterest, not blinking as the young
man unbuttoned his jacket and peeled off the tight fabric before removing the 
suspenders and unbuttoning his shirt. 

Orlando flushed as he removed his clothes. He placed them on the bed as he took
them off and finally stood naked before the valet. He held out a hand that was
only slightly trembling to receive the nightshirt. “I can manage, thank you,” he
said, realizing the man had intended to dress him. He was relieved when the man
handed him the garment as requested and quickly pulled it on. “There,” he said.
“I am all dressed for bed. Goodnight to you.”

The dark haired man shook his head and took Orlando’s elbow. “Please do get into
bed, sir. My orders were to see you into bed, and I shall do that.”

Orlando thought Davenport followed his duties a little too carefully, but 
decided against saying anything. He did not want this disarming man for any 
reason to be cross with him. He watched as Davenport walked calmly to the bed 
and pulled down the bedding, folding the blankets over slightly so Orlando could
get it without disrupting the other sheets. He then stood back and waited for 
Orlando to get into the bed, which the boy did after a moments hesitation. 

The bed was soft and comfortable to Orlando, but he found no comfort in it as he
lay down, the fluffy pillows cushioning his head . He hastily pulled the blanket
and comforter up to cover himself and said a quick thank you before dismissing 
the man and quickly turned onto his side.

Davenport looked at Orlando’s small form covered by the blankets for a moments 
before saying, “Would you like me to blow out the light for you, sir?”

“Yes,” Orlando quietly replied, not turning to look at the man. 

He could hear movement behind him before he finally heard the breath of air when
Davenport extinguished the lamp light and then when the man closed to bedroom 
door. 

Orlando let out the breath he had been holding and closed his eyes. He knew he
would find no sleep now, but he did not want to see the dark room around him. He
did not want to see the empty white pillow beside him waiting for it’s occupant. 

Unable to bear the empty space before him, Orlando turned to face the wall and 
curled into a little ball on his side. His knees were drawn up to his chest and
he gave a deep sigh which slightly trembled in his trepidation. He could not 
hear what was going on in the rest of the house, so he had no clue as to how 
long it would take for Viggo to tire of the festivities, or when the reception 
would actually end. 

The young man closed his eyes tight and waited. 

The night wore on a little longer, and Orlando’s eyelids were beginning to droop
a bit. He wondered if he would actually be let alone for the night…that maybe 
perhaps Viggo had too much to drink and passed out. He hoped maybe he found 
someone else he would rather have sex with and left him alone for the night. 

He knew it was all wishful thinking even before he heard the heavy footsteps 
approaching the bedroom…the bedroom he lay in. 

Orlando clenched his eyes closed when the door opened. He tried to control his 
breathing and feign sleep. He was glad he was facing the wall, for he knew he 
would not be able to hide the look of disgust on his face.

He could hear Viggo close the door and shuffle into the room. He clenched his 
fists in the bedding by his chest and face when he heard the familiar rustle of
clothing being removed. He realized he was holding his breath and slowly let it
out as he listened to trousers being lowered. 

The bed dipped behind Orlando as Viggo lowered himself behind him onto the bed.
The blonde lord sighed in relief when he sank down to the bed and took in the 
slight figure before him. The man wrapped an arm around the slender chest,
holding Orlando tight to him and looking down at the supposedly sleeping face 
and seeing through the farce. He pressed the palm of his left hand down onto 
Orlando’s cheekbone, pressing the young man’s face into the pillow, holding him
down while he hissed into the young beauty’s ear, 
I know you have already been schooled in the proper ways to serve your husband.”

Orlando’s eyes were now open and tears formed in them. The tears ran down his 
face as Viggo removed the hand from his cheek and used both hands to rip open 
the back of Orlando’s nightshirt, exposing the soft skin of the boy’s trembling
back. He lifted the bottom of the large shirt and positioned himself behind the
boy, taking his erection in hand. “I think I’m actually glad of that,” Viggo 
said darkly, lewdly wiping his tongue down his palm before using it to wet his
cock. “Let’s me know I don’t have to feel bad about not being gentle tonight.”

Orlando gripped the sheets tightly as Viggo shoved his upper thigh aside to gain
better access to the young man’s anus before taking himself in hand and without
any kind of preparation shoved his cock as far as he could into the youth’s dry
hole.

Orlando cried out once, his eyes clenched and tears streaming down his face as
his white knuckles held onto his sheets with all the strength in him. He bit his
lower lip to hold in another cry as Viggo pulled back and thrust another three 
inches in, the friction delicious but almost too much in the clenching tightness
of the young beauty’s ass. The soft trembling skin beneath his hands made him 
hotter, and Viggo thrust again, harder this time and suddenly Orlando jerked and
a hot warmth began to spread in the channel and lubricate it as the blonde Lord
thrust.

Once Orlando started to bleed, it was not as bad. The boy lay quietly, letting 
his husband use his body as he pleased. He did not make another sound after his
first cry, he stayed quiet so that only Viggo’s grunts filled the room as he 
fucked him. 

Deep down, Orlando welcomed the pain…it reminded him that this act had 
absolutely nothing to do with love…and he was grateful for that.