Luck of the Irish Ch. 01

"Welcome home, Master." Corey stood on his tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. "How was your day."

"Not great, pet." His Master sighed. Corey could see the tense muscles under his skin and frowned, if his Master had admitted to having a hard day then it had to have been very bad. The only time he ever complained about work was when he lost a patient.

"I'm sorry, Master. Is there anything I can do?" Corey frowned.

"No Pet, though I am hungry. What have you made for dinner?" He hung up his coat and pulled him into the kitchen where their plates sat.

After they had eaten his Master sighed and slouched back in his chair. Corey frowned again, his Master never slouched.

"Do you want to talk about it, Sir?" Corey asked, worried.

"No Pet, but thank you for your concern." His Master smiled at him warmly.

"If you want, Sir. I can do the dishes tonight. You could go upstairs and go to bed. Get some rest?" Corey offered. His Master stared at him a moment, thinking about the offer.

"Thank you, Corey. I appreciate that." His Master stood and kissed his forehead on the way out. Corey listened to him walk upstairs and put the dishes in the sink. He had only just rinsed them when a thought occurred to him. He grabbed two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine before heading upstairs. His Master was getting undressed when he arrived.

"Done with the dishes already, Pet?"

"No, Sir. But I have something else I wanted to do." Corey hid the wine behind his back and disappeared into the bathroom. He filled the tub with water as hot as he could stand it and filled both of the glasses. He went into the bedroom where his Master waited and finished undressing him. He pulled him into the bathroom and his Master smiled when he saw the candles Corey had lit. He climbed into the bathtub and Corey climbed in, laying with his back against his chest. He handed his Master his own glass of wine and played with the bubbles with the hand that wasn't holding his glass.

"Thank you, Pet. This is what I needed." His Master kissed his temple. Corey smiled and leaned back into his Masters chest.

"Did you...lose a patient today, Sir?" Corey asked, hesitating.

"Yes, Pet." His Master sounded hurt.

"It wasn't your fault, Sir. I know you tried your best." Corey said.

"Thank you, Pet. It means a lot to me for you to say that." His Master stroked his hair.

"I know you're a good man. I would trust you with my life. I do." Corey looked up at him. His Master smiled and hugged him in the warm bubbly water.

"Thank you, Pet." His Master repeated. It was obvious that the pair relied on each other for more than just sex. Eric felt the warmth of Corey's love that night, stronger than any other night. The comforting words of his lover calmed his crowded mind and helped him relax. Eric loved Corey, and Corey loved him just as much back.

~~~~~~~~~

Corey worried about his Master. For the next couple of days he was cold and silent. Corey chalked it up to losing that patient and gave him Master time. After a few days he was returning to normal.

"It happens in my line of work, Pet. I won't ever get used to it, but I have to learn how to recover." He had said, when Corey questioned him about it. Corey understood what he meant and left him alone until he was back to his old self. By the end of the week his Master was fine again. The only trouble was that after a week of his Master not even touching him at night, Corey was on edge. He was horny and needed release. One of his Master's rules was that he could never touch himself though. Mornings were the worst. When his Master was at work and his morning wood ached with need. He knew that he would be able to get away with touching himself, but didn't know if he could lie to his Masters face about it. He wanted to prove to his Master that he could behave.

He made sure he cleaned the house from top to bottom and fixed his Masters favorite dinner. He poured their drinks and sat by the door, waiting for his Masters return. His cock surged as he heard a car pull up in the drive way. He smiled and prayed that his Master would touch him tonight, or even go farther that just touching...

"Welcome home, Master. How was your-" Corey trailed off when he saw it wasn't his Master at the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came back to get what's mine."

"My Master will be home any minute."

"That's not quite true, see work called. There was a car accident. A huge pile up. Haven't you checked the messages?" John pushed the button on the phone to play back the voice mails.

"One new message, from Eric's Cell." The electronic voice said, Corey didn't move his eyes from John and John didn't move his eyes from him.

"Pet, I'm sorry but there's been an accident, I won't be home in time for dinner tonight. Eat without me and go ahead and go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow morning. It would be nice if you would make me breakfast, pet. I love you, see you soon."

"End of message." The electronic voice said again. Silence filled the room and a shiver went up Corey's spine. His Master wasn't going to be home soon. He was alone, with John, and his Master had no idea.

"Please, Just leave. I'm happy here, he's happy. We're happy together can't you just accept that and find yourself a new punching bag?" Corey begged.

"Hmmm.... Nope." John said and reached for Corey. Corey turned to run and tripped when John grabbed his ankle. He felt it twist the wrong way and pain shoot up his leg. He screamed and tried to crawl away. He was happy here, he didn't want to leave. He kicked John in the face with his good leg and his nose cracked. Blood gushed forward and he released Corey's leg to hold his bleeding nose. Corey stood and limped across the large house. He shut the door to the kitchen behind him and cursed when he realized it didn't have a lock. He looked at the door to the living room and realized that John could get in from there if he wanted to. He felt John fling his body against the door and he cursed. He held the door with all his strength and froze when it stopped. He knew John would be going to the living room. He waited until he heard footsteps on the hard wood floor before opening the door he had just barricaded.

He lunged for the front door and opened it before he felt the hand wrap around his throat. He was yanked back and the door slammed shut.

"No!" Corey gasped trying to breath. He reached for the door again and John pulled him back. He felt his hand wrap around the waist of his pants and tug.

"Stop!" Corey wiggled his hips trying to keep John from pulling them down, but John flipped him over so he was flat on his back and managed to get his pants down to his knees. Corey kicked and used his hands to try and push John away from him, but to no avail. Soon his jeans and the tight blue briefs that his Master loved so much were around his ankles. John tugged and pulled on the clothing and Corey screamed as they pulled on his injured ankle. Soon the clothing was removed completely and John fought with his own zipper with one hand holding down Corey. He took his cock out and when he couldn't force Corey to open his legs, punched him in the nose. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth but he continued fighting. His Master hadn't taken him yet, and he didn't plan on letting this bastard have what was his Masters.

"Let me go!" He shouted. John pulled his fist back again and punched him in the throat. Corey choked and coughed but continued fighting with a dizzy lightheaded feeling. Finally, John had enough and reached into the back pocket of his pants. He pulled out a long switchblade. He held it to Corey's throat and in a hushed tone spoke.

"Scream again." He challenged the scared slave. Corey considered it, but knew that John wasn't above killing him. He weighed his options, get raped or die. It wasn't that hard of a decision. He stayed silent as John forced open his legs with a knee.

"Please, don't." Corey begged. "My master..."

"That's right, bitch. I'm your Master." John sneered. Corey shook his head and clenched his teeth. He shut his eyes and tried to block out what was happening to him. After only thirty seconds or so he felt a hot warmth fill him and tears dripped from his eyes as he realized that he had lost. He began sobbing as he realized he had failed his Master and let John take something that didn't belong to him. He felt more ashamed than anything and all he wanted was to be held by his Master. He craved the warm arms around his shoulders and the hard muscles under his hands. He yearned for the soothing deep tenor of his Masters voice, and for the kind things they promised.

John stood up and pulled his pants up. He looked down at the small, broken, sobbing figure on the floor.

"You're pathetic." He spit on Corey's face. Corey cried and refused to look up at the man who had just raped him. "Bet your Master can't treat you like I can." John beamed, sneering on the word Master. Corey thought he was right. His Master couldn't treat him like that. His Master was a good man.

"Stupid bitch. Come on, we're leaving." John threw Corey's ripped pants at him. Corey shook his head and buried his face in the floor.

"I said, get up." John growled. Corey didn't care now. The worst thing that could have happened did. He was almost sure he would rather die than face his Master after what had happened. And he was positive he would rather die than go home with John again.

"Listen, Bitch." John looked at him. "You get up, and you follow me. Or I'll kill you right here, right now." John bent down and held the knife to his throat. Corey had stopped crying and now only stared off into space.

"Get. Up." John repeated. When Corey refused to answer, John pushed the knife into his skin. A thin line of blood appeared on his throat and Corey cried out quietly.

"Make your choice, Bitch." John said. "I won't ask again." Corey continued to lie there. John frowned. He pulled Corey up by his hair and put the tip of his knife just under his left ear. Corey whimpered but didn't move.

"Three..." John counted.

"Two..." He whispered in his ear.

'I'm sorry Master.' Corey thought to himself.

"One."

The knife slid across his throat and a deep red line followed it. Corey felt the blood rush from his veins and he began to get light headed. It felt like the whole world shook when John dropped his head onto the wooden floors. His eyes blurred and he couldn't breathe. He choked and a fountain of blood spilled forward.

"No one will ever look at those pretty eyes again." John spoke.

Corey had thought he wanted to die. He was wrong.