by M. Rode
"Good boy, now go and get blondie inside for his mid-morning session. Hose him off first. Don't let him stand up."
Rory hesitated. He was intimidated by blondie.
"Do as you're told, boy. Call him over. Hose him off. Have him crawl to heel inside."
Rory whimpered at the last embellishment, but got up and called from the edge of the back porch, “Colby! Sir says crawl to the faucet."
I smiled at Rory's quavering command and went inside. I watched from behind the kitchen screen door. The light was wrong for them to see me. The boy had obeyed, but at the faucet he saw I wasn't there and stood.
Rory flapped his hands and said something inaudible. Blondie shoved him. I waited. Rory needed to learn his own lesson.
I heard him say “Dr. Fell said...” and the boy shoved him again.
Then blondie shrieked. Little Rory had turned the hose on full, and blasted the boy down until he was back on his knees. Clean. Cold. Crying.
"Stay down. And follow at heel.” Rory's voice was still shaky, but the boy shuffled along after him.
I swung open the screen. Rory blushed as he realized I had watched, but he carried on in when I beckoned.
"Stay,” I ordered blondie as he reached the threshold. “Rory—get an old towel. I don't want pet water on the floor. He can wipe his knees as well before he comes in."
While Rory got the towel from the rag bag, I placed my feet under the boy's nose.
"I don't like whelps that fight their littermates."
His hair dripped. He kept his head down.
"You've been warned. An extra half-hour of kneeling later. Up on your knees. Now!"
I reached down and dragged off the cock ring without undoing it. The cold water had shocked away his hard-on and his balls had tried to retreat. He still yelled when I removed it.
I laughed; he was a pain slut—his cock had twitched back up at my brutal handling.
I dropped a ragged towel over the boy's head. “Dry off. Clean your hands and knees."
Rory served me mid-morning coffee—aglow from his little triumph, but not cocky. He'd baked biscotti last night, and I let him have one.
Blondie had crawled in and knelt in position. He had the perfect sub thing to an art—outwardly. His posture was impeccable, and I knew he'd take a beating well.
He wouldn't get one from me.
I left him kneeling in position on the bare plank floor. His knees were sore from yard work, and his thigh muscles twitched after just half an hour.
"That extra thirty minutes doesn't seem so negligible now, does it, boy?"
"No, sir. Please, how long total?"
"Your regular time is up when I think you've crumbled. Then add thirty. And no crocodile tears."
I caught a mutinous glare, before he dropped his gaze. I simply made a note.
Rory conferred with me about the day's chores and set to work. He'd asked permission to bake, and had dough rising, and a soup simmering. The cabin smelled like home. I distracted myself with blondie and reminded myself: Gregorio loved Rory. But Rory's pale skin, dark hair, and even his name pressed my Rob buttons harder the more he settled in.
When I e-mailed Gregorio, I saw twink had e-mailed me. He's my secretary for my stipend position, and reveled in his opportunities to refer to himself as my assistant in front of the other boys.
I groaned. A report Gregorio would have prepared was due. Twink and I would have to muddle through it. I decided to invite Ben and twink for the weekend. Ben could take my bed, I'd sleep on my study futon, and the boys could use the floor and bunks. Ben made a counteroffer; he had a company retreat soon. He'd come to lunch, drop twink off for a paid visit, and return a few days later.
I cursed at him for a moment, and he laughed. “John, you can handle three boys. Charlie adores you. He'll be good. He wants to show you the financial data he prepared from Gregorio's notes. And this way you can keep your own bed."
"Will he be calm? He was too bubbly last time I visited."
I heard a background giggle and twink hollered “Hi, Dr. Fell sir!"
"I guess that's my answer."
Ben sweetened the deal. “Full access to him. He could use your touch."
Twink, for all his faults, gave excellent head. And I was damn horny with one boy I didn't have clearance to touch and another who'd get off on it too much.
"Send him over."
"E-mail him a grocery list. You must need supplies with extra mouths."
"Blondie hasn't earned real food yet. But yeah, thanks."
Blondie wept slowly and steadily. His position training had crumbled and he swayed as I stood behind him. His thank-you was genuine when I announced the last thirty minutes. Being ignored was as bad as the physical torment for him. His cock was limp and there was no joy in his tears.
He got a cup of the broth from the soup and some old bread Rory had saved to make croutons before I sent him back to the yard. Although it was spring, the afternoon was hot. I stayed in the shade working on a freelance editing job. Blondie sweated as he crawled down a second vegetable plot. But he'd knelt without being told and he'd stopped wagging his golden rump. He removed stones at a steady pace. When I saw him buckle and then recover, I strolled over. There were tear tracks in the dust on his face, but he hadn't wept in a showy manner. His face looked pale despite his tan and dirt.
"Up. Come and get hydrated."
He stood and wobbled. I was ready to catch him, but he balanced himself, and walked to heel without an order.
His relief in the shade was obvious.
"How are you so tanned if you can't take any sun?"
"All salon, sir,” he whispered. “I get headaches in the sun."
"Do you have one now?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right. Hose off, use your pet towel on the porch, and come inside for water and aspirin. I'll find you an inside chore for the afternoons. You can weed in the mornings and evenings."
He was grateful, but then lost my good will again by asking Rory where the bottled water was.
I pointed to the kitchen faucet. “Drink there, boy. Any bitching and you drink from the hose."
I sent him to sweep and scrub the storeroom.
"Do a good job, boy. You may end up on that floor."
* * * *
He and Rory were good enough for the next few days. Rory struggled as overseer, but he grew in confidence. Blondie obeyed him, but by the time twink arrived, his resentment had grown.
He was already sulky. He'd torn a nail and insisted he needed his manicure kit. My plain clippers were not good enough—that was, until I trimmed all his nails down as short as they'd go. His attitude earned him more position punishment.
He hated twink seeing him naked and kneeling with his hands behind his head. He liked a master's gaze or an envious boy's gaze, but twink's smile of sympathy was salt. Ben had nodded at him before he left, and Rory and I had ignored him all morning.
Twink flaunted his status with an arrival hug. Ever since he'd seen me ill in bed, he'd been irrepressible.
I growled in his ear. “That's your one freebie, boy."
He just squeezed.
"Go unpack the groceries. Let Rory tell you what needs to stay out for dinner prep."
He and Rory whispered in the kitchen as they worked. Twink and Rory liked each other, but I saw a look on blondie's face and knew he'd try to divide them.
A sudden giggle from twink and a gasp from Rory let me know they'd found the host gift I'd suggested for this time.
"Sir has low blood pressure,” said twink too loudly.
"Is that why he doesn't fuck Colby? He needs these?"
Rory's question was innocent, but twink was being a bit of a little shit. I cleared my throat, and Rory squeaked at my nearness. I held out my hand for the box of metal cock rings.
"They're not for me. Twink—warn them what a throat-fucking from me is like. Rory, I don't fuck blondie because he's nothing to me."
Annoyed with myself for b
eing pissed, I stepped outside to inspect blondie's yard progress, and listened to the flurry of chatter inside. Rory seemed well aware of the disaster they'd just side-stepped, but blondie bitched, and twink giggled far too much.
The sun had dropped enough for blondie to go back out, and I sent twink to the woodpile.
"But it's spring."
"Never too soon to prepare for winter. Now chop."
Back in the kitchen, Rory was shaky, and back to jumpy around me.
"Twink answers to you as well, boy."
When he whimpered, I added, “And you answer to me for any housekeeping flaws. Unless they're doing outside chores or following one of my orders, you run them. You cook. They do the rest. Hose them off before they come inside."
"Sir! Oh please, they..."
I stared the poor boy down.
"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."
No one fucked up through dinner. Twink and blondie submitted to Rory hosing them off, and although they were a little slow about it, they followed his orders. Rory served me coffee on the porch while the other two cleaned the kitchen. They'd all been allowed to eat after I was done.
Rory froze; we both heard blondie say, “But everyone knows Fell is soft on dark-haired puppies. He's a bastard to blonds and plays favorites with pale little boys. So we get shitty outdoor stuff, and Rory gets the easy indoor work he likes doing. It's not fair. It's not as if he deserves better treatment."
Rory moaned, and gave me a quick look to see how mad I was.
Twink's reply was inaudible, but it didn't matter.
"Rory—stay out here. You may have my coffee."
Twink protested he hadn't agreed with blondie, but I tied his wrists to a hook over the fireplace.
Blondie backed him up, “It was me, sir!"
"I'd be more impressed with your honesty if I didn't know you craved a thrashing. Twink will take your punishment for you. From now on he's your whipping boy. You screw up, he's beaten."
Twink wailed. He knew how much blondie annoyed me.
"What does fair have to do with this? You all serve me. All that matters is what owners want. You don't matter in comparison to each other. I don't care who likes indoors and who likes outdoors."
Twink was already writhing around dramatically. I lost patience, pulled my belt free and laid into his ass. Once twink hung still, I stopped. He turned to offer his wrists for release.
"That, boy, was to focus you. I said a whipping. Blondie, ask Rory to come in."
I collected my short dog whip. Rory had knelt without being told to and I saw him tug blondie down as I returned. Twink's ass already glowed from my belt so I placed the first whip lash on his upper thighs. He squealed and spun around.
"Do you want the front of your thighs and belly thrashed?"
He turned around so fast his cock hit the fireplace. He ran in place on his toes, and screamed while I finished whipping his thigh backs, but he stayed in position. I was pleased with him, but just told Rory to clean him up. I'd broken his skin a few places, and he'd lost his erection.
I'd not had my evening scotch, so I poured a glass and watched Rory swab and pat Twink. Blondie was rock hard.
So was I.
I sent Rory for the cock rings. He scampered off. He was awed, but his happy glow was back. I wondered how long it'd last once I told him Gregorio had replied.
"Put one on twink for me."
Rory was shy, but he fumbled a ring onto twink's limp cock.
"Now yourself."
Rory was red with embarrassment, but his cock plumped almost right away once he was in. Blondie hadn't come since his arrival and he sobbed in envy.
"Blondie, you already earned twink a whipping for disrespecting me. Rory isn't allowed in the sun. Gregorio likes him pale. You've insulted Gregorio by sneering at his boy when he's simply obeying. Since Gregorio isn't here, Rory will accept your apology in his place."
"Sorry Rory,” muttered blondie.
"Unconvincing. Besides that's not the apology I meant. Rory—unhook twink, but leave his wrists tied."
I snapped my fingers at twink and pointed at my crotch. He gave a cry of joy at being forgiven and being the first boy to touch me. He unzipped me and desperately kissed my belly while he freed my cock.
"Rory, Gregorio e-mailed me back. We'll talk later, but for now you have permission to accept this apology: Blondie, give him a blow job."
Twink was already nuzzling and licking my head, but he paused to giggle at the idea of blondie on his knees for Rory.
Rory's eyes were manga-huge, and blondie scowled.
"Now!"
Rory, not blondie, spoke, “I can't!"
I pointed at his swollen cock. “I think you can, Rory. Gregorio has given me authority over you. Now, if blondie doesn't suck your dick in five seconds, you ram it in."
Blondie had his mouth clamped shut. I leaned back on the sofa and enjoyed twink's expertise as I watched Rory and blondie fight their own wills. At the five-second mark, blondie parted his lips a fraction as Rory made a first shy thrust.
I shifted a little so twink could see, too. It was a pretty sight. Rory was kept hard for a long time by the cock ring and blondie knew he had to work. He did everything he could to make Rory shoot, and Rory got a worthy apology. Blondie's own prick bounced and dripped unattended. Twink was trapped in a cock ring, too, but he was used to not coming while he sucked me. I shifted to fucking twink's throat so I'd come before Rory. Twink choked and kept his throat working.
"Good little slut,” I murmured so only he heard. “You're not bad when you can't talk."
I preferred the boys ungagged at the cabin—they could scream as needed—but the chatter from twink might provoke an exception. He'd licked me clean and had moved to snuffling in my pubes. He liked to breathe me in after I'm done and he's still hard. I sat up, and he looked at me hopefully.
"Sir?” pled twink. “May I do myself?"
"No, boy. Tough it out and you'll be rewarded."
Rory growled like a puppy with a bone as blondie's lips reached the root of his prick on each thrust. He surprised me—he grabbed blondie's nape and fucked that mouth for his orgasm. Blondie wept from humiliation as Rory pulled out. He wailed when I signaled twink to take Rory's place. Twink needed no urging, and had his cock in blondie's mouth in a flash.
"Suck, bitch!” he cried. For once, I let twink babble. He kept up a steady stream of instructions to poor blondie. He rode blondie's face and slapped his face like a jockey urging his mount to the finish line. Rory snuggled my ankles. I think he enjoyed watching almost as much as getting blown.
Poor blondie—Rory and twink were both slow shots with their rings. He's used to being the star of the show with all the attention on him as he's suspended, or fisted, or whipped. He's never the one serving. This is hell for him. No one thinks he's special. His stay with me will have no coming, no sexual pain, lots of labor, and service to Rory and twink.
Rory patted my knee, and whispered. “Sir, he has a tongue piercing! It was fabulous. Thank you, sir."
I stroked his head as we watched blondie work for twink. Poor Rory; he might have some fun in the next few days, but his owner's mother had died earlier that day. He and Gregorio would have a tough few months. Still, Rory being well-trained when he returned might help.
To enforce the new hierarchy, I had blondie sleep on the bare boards of the top bunk. Twink had the bottom bunk with a mattress, and Rory had the place of honor: the comforter nest on the floor by my bed.
I also needed to talk to him alone. He wept when he heard his owner was bereaved, and I let him on the bed to be held.
"He'll call you tomorrow. The funeral isn't for a few days so you'll be here another week. He's very pleased you asked to consent. He wants to talk you in private before I do any real training. So tomorrow at noon, he'll call and you can shut the door to my study, okay?"
"Thank you, sir."
"Okay, now into your bed. No pets on my bed."
Rory gave a w
atery smile and curled up. I heard him crying, but it was legitimate grief, so I let him sob to sleep.
* * * *
He came out of my study red-eyed, but smiling bravely. He handed me the phone and Gregorio confirmed that Rory was fully mine until he returned. I offered him brief condolences, and then asked a question about the financial report twink and I were completing for him.
Through the afternoon, Rory supervised blondie in scrubbing the kitchen top to bottom, and twink and I worked on the computer together. Twink had a bit gag in to keep him calm. When he can talk he gets nervous and his babble feeds his fear. He could communicate by typing and pointing. Now I had information from Gregorio, the report went well, and twink proved to be good with data as well as text.
I had twink and blondie do yard work in the dusk while Rory made dinner. I relaxed by updating their logs. Rory smiled to see his cover relabeled to “Rory—training” but he shook during dinner service. He knew he had a whipping due. And I could now fuck him. He couldn't eat at boys’ feeding time, and I didn't make him. Twink and blondie were nice to him about his owner and because he was going to be whipped.
I held my hand out and led him outside. The night sky was clear and our eyes adjusted to the moonlight and cabin-glow. I walked to the edge of the cleared land and used a strip of rawhide to tie his wrists to a branch. He was silent and meek about it, and leaned against the tree trunk.
I stroked his pale ass—it almost glowed in the moonlight. He was perfect. I offered him a gag and he shook his head.
"Sound carries at night, boy."
"I don't scream, sir."
I caressed his butt for a moment and then let the whip whistle onto his cheek. He didn't scream. He sobbed and moaned, but was off into a better place in no time. He flew with his face pressed against the bark, and his ass stuck out to greet my leather kiss. His prick was hard, and I paused to admire him.
"More, sir. I deserve more."
I asked him why he thought so.
"I don't know, but I'm not worthy of Greg until I've been whipped enough."
I obliged and let the whip crack against him again. I carried on until I saw the tension leave his spine and his knees unlock. He was gasping, but his face was serene. His ass was bloody. I'd been harsh. Far harder than I ever was on twink. But I wasn't whipping my beloved into shape for another master then.
