Guess I have to take matters into my own hands! Alternate ending, starting just after 'I'm not sure I can bear this anymore.' Dub-con warning.

—

I began taking clothes off their hangers and knotting them together, working as silently as possible. I took my time selecting the strongest, most durable items. It pained me to mistreat such fine clothing, but the end result would be well worth it.

Mr. Wooster watched me with trepidation. In response to his unasked question, I whispered, 'Since we are on the fourth floor, we'll need this makeshift rope to serve as a sort of safety device when abseiling out the window, sir.'

'You think of everything, Jeeves.'

'Thank you, sir. If you'll allow me, sir.' I reached around him with the leg of a pair of sturdy trousers, intending to secure it about his waist. He flinched at my hand brushing against his stomach as I did so. I tied the ankles together and pulled tight.

'Hang on,' he gasped as the fabric began to cinch his waist. 'Do we need to do this now? Can't it wait?'

'I'm afraid not, sir, we must test this before we try it out the window.'

'B-but I, I don't think...' He gritted his teeth in an effort to maintain self-control. His foot still bounced compulsively.

I tutted. 'This knot won't hold, sir, this won't do. I'm glad I checked before we attempted it.' I untied it and he let out a small sigh of relief. It didn't last long, though, as I pulled the arms of a jacket around him instead, and pulled it even tighter than before.

He let out a strained grunt. There was a panicked look in his eye. 'Do we have to wait until he's asleep? Can't we just, er, make a run for it?'

'We could, sir, but we would still need to use something in order to safely rappel down the wall,' I explained patiently.

Mr. Wooster had no patience for my patience. 'Okay, fine, fine! Let's do it now, dash it! I can't wait another second!' he panted.

'You'll need to wait just a moment longer, sir, I have to finish this.' I kept fiddling with the knots.

'Oh, Lord...' he moaned, now blatantly pressing his hand between his legs. By instinct, I tried to avert my eyes, but in the cramped space, there was not much in the way of other places for them to go.

I felt embarrassed for him, forced into such an undignified situation. This was a line we had never crossed before. The brief, businesslike nudity involved with bathing and dressing was always handled discreetly as possible out of respect for his modesty. But this was different. We never spoke of such things, out of politeness — we barely even had words to express them, just euphemisms. The fact that he was being forced into such a shameful position right in front of me, nay, right next to me, so close as to be touching... I could hardly account for the powerful erotic reaction it inspired in me. It was a bizarre kind of intimacy, much too intimate for my comfort or his. It deeply disturbed me to think of encroaching on his privacy to this level. It was a taboo perhaps even more ingrained than sexuality, and I already had enough internal struggles with the lines I frequently found myself wanting to cross in that particular realm. I had real sympathy for him, but I had something else, too, a lot of it, and that other something was in control of my actions now.

'Please hurry, Jeeves, I really don't want to...I couldn't face it if...' His desperation was so alluring.

'Perhaps you should just — let go, sir,' I said, even more quietly than we had been speaking so far.

'What?! No, I can't with — with you right here!'

'It's okay, sir.' I slid my hand to his lower abdomen.

'What are you — no, Jeeves!' He tried to wriggle away, but I held fast from behind, keeping one hand clamped against his belly and grabbing his hip with the other. He attempted to stand up from the shelf we had been sitting on, nearly knocking his head against the wardrobe door in the process. I pulled him back and he fell backward awkwardly into my lap.

'Relax, sir.'

'No, don't you understand?' He sounded frantic.

'It's all right, sir.'

'Please, Jeeves, I can't...'

I pressed a little harder.

He whimpered and I heard another sound, quiet but unmistakable, lasting only a few seconds.

'Good Lord, Jeeves, I-I'm so sorry!' He had stopped himself as soon as he could regain control. He tried to stand again but was too tall for the wardrobe. Desperate to get off me, he settled for ducking his head and hovering over me instead.

The seat of his trousers was right in front of my face but I couldn't see them properly in the shadows. Before I could think, I reached out and felt for the small wet spot on them. I groped a little further and felt his body against my hand.

He finally stopped thrashing and went still as he felt me make gentle contact with a very personal area. I pulled him back down onto my lap again and wrapped my arms around him. His back pressed against my chest, his arse against my hardness.

'Keep going, sir.'

With a moan of surrender, he did.

After a few more seconds, I felt the wetness start seeping through my own trousers. It spread across my lap and down my thighs.

My master's weight in my lap, his waist encircled by my arms, felt surreal enough on their own. Add in the warmth streaming onto my groin and trickling down the inside of my leg and it was simply incomprehensible. Shock, disgust, and most of all, illicit thrill overtook me. I felt like every boundary had been thrown out the window at once.

When it was over, Mr. Wooster was shaking. I knew his heart must be pounding as hard as mine. At just that moment, the light went out in the room beyond us. Through the crack in the door, we could see that Lord Tinklewee had finally finished reading and turned off the lamp.

I became acutely aware of the feeling of the soaked fabric clinging to my skin. There was a silence. I cleared my throat to break it. 'Feeling better, sir?'

I could hear the turmoil in his voice as he answered, 'Well, yes, Jeeves. I...I am. Much better.'

'I am gratified to hear it, sir.'

'Dreadfully sorry about...you know.'

'Not at all, sir.'


In short time, we emerged from the wardrobe and escaped out the window as planned (in the excitement of the evening's events, I had made a mistake — we were actually on the first floor, not the fourth, meaning I needn't have worried about the safety measures that started this whole thing at all. How foolish of me). Back on solid ground in the gardens, we made eye contact for the first time. There was a good deal of blushing on his part and I did my best to remain stoic. Both of our gazes resolutely refrained from straying downward.

'Well then, er, sorry, old thing. And sorry to keep saying sorry. And...'

'It is a matter of little import, sir,' I lied.

'Is that right?' he said skeptically, clearly still humiliated.

'Absolutely, sir. In fact...' I reached for my trousers and watched his wide eyes get wider. My fingers fumbled on the fastenings, which were still quite slippery. As my master looked on, I turned away a tiny bit, though not much, and with a sigh, experienced my own relief as I released the tension that I had been more successful in holding.

I knew that image of me would remain with him late at night, in the privacy of his rooms.