Best Gay Romance 2013 by Richard Labonte Read Free Book Online

excellent. You take fast dictation and your skill at research is impressive. You are a clever boy. Well spoken and with a fine vocabulary.”
    â€œThank you, Sir,” I replied through my tears, thrilled at the praise, yet still feeling limp and stupid.
    â€œI have grown very fond of you,” he said quietly. Then he held me at arm’s length, gazing down at me. “And you are beautiful.”
    I was so confused. For weeks he had been distant, calling me Swift or boy, mostly boy. Now he called me precious Jade and held me in his arms. Was he toying with me? I threw myself at him and wrapped my arms around his waist as if I would never let him go. “Sir, Mrs. Wynterborne said you are not to be trusted around young ladies,” I ventured. “Yet I have never seen a lady in your company.”
    â€œYes, I know. It is me who belongs on the stage, not you, boy. I’m a fine actor. But what choice do we have?” He smiled kindly for the first time in all those weeks and his voice was tender when he said, “May I have you?”
    I nearly fainted. Was it really that simple? Had he really just offered to make me his own, or had I misheard? “Yes, please, Sir,” I said without hesitation, assuming he would sweep me up in his arms and carry me to his bedchamber, much to the shock and horror of any servant we passed on the way.
    My Master was a very strong man despite his slender build, possessing tight, sinewy muscles, and now he put his strength
to good use. Before I could react, he had my trousers down and threw me over the back of a chair.
    It seemed the virtue I thought I had lost long ago was still intact, because I had never dreamed of what he did to me next. I was an innocent. I was a virgin! All my kissing and fumbling in various cobwebby corners of London theaters was nothing but childish play, preamble to this moment. Mr. Wynterbourne reamed me good and proper, then fastened his trousers and sat down again behind his desk. I turned to look at him, myself still in dishabille, and he merely started to dictate again. Utterly humiliated, I dragged up my trousers, grabbed my pen and ink and attempted to keep up.
    That night in bed, I cried my heart out. Master had pretended to want me, then he had done no more than use me like a piece of meat from Smithfield Market. My sobbing was so loud and indulgent that I did not hear him enter my room. At some point I looked up to find him standing silently beside my bed. I sat up at once and did the eiderdown thing again, which made him laugh. “You’re cruel!” I burst out, and began to weep once more, before crying, “I love you.” How pathetic I must have sounded.
    â€œYes,” he agreed. “Of course you love me. I expected you would the moment I saw you with your peach-perfect skin and overly long hair.” He cocked his head to one side, looking down at me from his great height. Then he sat on my bed and took my trembling hands in his. “Do you wish to be my boy, precious Jade?”
    I drew his hands to my mouth, smothering them with kisses. “Yes, Sir, yes please, Sir.”
    Solemnly, he nodded. “I knew you would accept.” Had he been anybody else I would have wanted to teach him a lesson for being so smug. But he was not anybody else. He was my Master. All I felt was gratitude and a desperate desire to please him.
Disappointment flooded me when he stood and walked to the door. I thought at least he would invite me to his chamber. “Be prompt in my office in the morning as usual and in the evening we will talk about my expectations for your new position.”
    My confusion must have been obvious; still, he waited for me to ask. “New position, Sir? I am still working for you, aren’t I?”
    â€œYou will continue as my secretary,” he agreed. “Indeed, I could not do without you for my book. But now you are more than that. Now you are my slave.”
    â€œYes, Sir,