The shower block was a large, old-fashioned communal affair with stark white tiles. Jonathan imagined a football or rugby team stripping off and hosing off the sweat and mud, their voices echoing in the huge space.
A large white towel had been left for him, but no clothes. He stood under the hot blast, lathering himself with gel from the wall dispenser. It had an invigorating fragrance. He washed away the spunk from his face and chest and enjoyed the sensation of being clean again.
When he had dried himself and stepped back out into the sports hall he was still feeling a little light-headed but more alert. The doctor was typing notes into a laptop and Gavin was talking into a mobile phone. Jonathan walked up to them and stood a few feet away, his hands behind his back, his head bowed.
Gavin finished his conversation. “Yes, Sir.” He looked at Jonathan. “Come with me.”
They headed back towards the main house. As they entered the building he saw a naked boy of about his age cleaning windows in a large dining room. It struck Jonathan that he was now one of those naked servants. He had nothing now. No clothes, no phone to contact the outside world, no money to get back home, no keys. It was a terrifying, exhilarating feeling.
Gavin took him upstairs and knocked on a wooden door. A voice from within called “Come!” They went through into a large study. Two large leather sofas dominated the room. Bookshelves lined the walls. A large fireplace was on their left, over which hung a large painting.
Horse Attacked by a Lion by Stubbs. A reproduction, surely?
His attention was torn away from the painting by the man behind the desk.
Baron Michael. At last. He was even more handsome in real life than in his pictures. Tall, mid-thirties, fit, wearing a smart blue shirt. Once again Jonathan had the feeling he had travelled back through time to an earlier era. The Baron resembled the hero from something by Jane Austen. Soft wavy brown hair framed a strong but youthful face. Arresting dark blue eyes. A broad smile that made Jonathan feel funny inside.
“Jonathan! We meet at last, boy.” He smiled at Gavin and nodded. Gavin left them alone, closing the door behind him. The Baron had a computer before him and consulted the screen. “Right, Dr Buckley has forwarded the data from your examination. Very interesting. You must be feeling a little tired after all that exertion.”
“I am fine, Sir.”
The Baron chuckled, standing and walking up to him for a closer inspection. He seemed to approve, which made Jonathan feel happy. “Good boy.” He sat down on one of the sofas and said “I'll have some green tea. Have some yourself if you like, or some water.” He pointed to a sideboard with a kettle, teapot and cups.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” Jonathan busied himself with making the tea. Sunlight streamed into the room from the bay window behind the desk. Classical music was playing quietly from hidden speakers. Something by Elgar.
The Baron relaxed on the sofa, stretching out his legs. He wore smart black trousers and tall, shiny black riding boots. Emily Bronte would be wetting her frilly white bloomers about now, Jonathan thought to himself.
“Do you have any questions, boy?”
Only about a million. But for some reason he couldn't decide what to ask. His mouth hung open and he knew he looked like an idiot. The Baron chuckled at his predicament. “I can see this is all a little overwhelming for you. Don't worry, I don't expect you to learn everything instantly. These things take time.”
The kettle boiled. Jonathan left it for a few seconds before pouring it into the teapot. He liked the Baron's voice, it was warm, rich and cultured but strong and masculine. A man of status who was accustomed to being obeyed.
“I'll give you a general outline of your life here. You will mainly be carrying out domestic duties. This is a big house, it takes a lot of maintenance. You will sleep in the dormitory with the other boys and you will rise at 7am. You will shower and go for breakfast in the large dining room at 7.30. You will be given your day's duties then. Lunch will be around midday, dinner at 6pm. You will be in bed by 10pm, lights out 11pm.”
Jonathan poured the tea and handed the Baron his cup and saucer. Fetching his own cup, he returned to the Baron who told him “Sit down.” Jonathan sat on the floor at the Baron's feet and sipped his tea.
“It's not all hard work, though.” the Baron continued, “there will also be regular exercise, sport and recreation. You will be expected to maintain yourself as well as the house.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Gavin has explained to you that you must follow orders given to you by the staff. That mainly includes the security staff such as Gavin, Steve and other men who are dressed like them. What you must remember at all times is that your body belongs to me. Just because you are naked it does not mean that you are a common tart.” His voice hardened. “Disobedience will be punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Good. Now show me that you know your place.” He extended one of his feet towards Jonathan.
He knew what was expected of him. Setting down his cup and saucer he leaned down and took the tall boot in his hands, cradling it gently. Then he bent his mouth towards the toe and kissed it. He breathed in the aroma of the leather. The boots were highly polished and were wonderfully warm and smooth. Jonathan made himself comfortable, lying flat on his stomach as he ran his tongue all over the leather. His eyes were closed but somehow he could feel the Baron's eyes on his body. He hoped that Sir was enjoying the view of his back and bum as he worked.
He felt excitement rising in him, yet at the same time a feeling of relaxed contentment. This was exactly where he belonged, at the feet of this great man, worshipping him.
The Baron reached down and stroked his hair, his neck and shoulders. Jonathan's tongue moved up the length of the tall boot, his saliva adding to the shine. He lost himself in adoration, moving in circles and trying to cover every inch of the leather.
He moved onto the other boot, repositioning his body. The Baron reached down and stroked his back, running his hand down and cupping the curve of his buttocks. Jonathan gasped, catching his breath as his heart began to beat faster. His prick became hard again, pressing into the carpet beneath him.
The Baron patted Jonathan on the bum and took hold of his head, directing it up towards his crotch. Jonathan was delighted to find a large hard bulge pressing against the front of the man's trousers. He kissed it, licked it, sniffed it, encouraging it to become bigger and harder. The Baron moaned appreciably and moved Jonathan's head aside while he unbuttoned the fly.
The cock that emerged was a long, thick curved beauty. Jonathan inhaled the fresh, clean aroma of the Baron's manhood and pressed his lips to the base, kissing gently and then licking the shaft. The Baron began to breath heavily, continuing to stroke Jonathan's hair as he worked.
He opened wide and took it all in, taking his time to give his throat chance to relax. He sucked gently, coaxing the stalk deep inside. With his hands he massaged the man's strong thighs. They were carved out of solid muscle. Taking a deep breath he raised himself up so that the head of the cock was between his lips. Then, in one fluid motion, he sank down so that it penetrated him fully. His nose pressed against the Baron's pubic curls as he buried the thick horn in his throat.
The Baron groaned with pleasure, much to Jonathan's delight. He worked slowly, massaging the head and shaft with his lips and tongue, bathing it in saliva. It tasted sweet and he savoured every inch of it, lost in worship, concentrating on doing the best job he could.
“That's a good boy.” the Baron said softly, caressing Jonathan's hair, ears, chin, arms, chest... his fingers stroked Jonathan's pert nipples, sending little electric shocks through his body. He gasped, difficult with a mouth full of hard meat, shivers travelling down his spine. His prick throbbed as it slid up against one of the spit-shined boots. He moaned and reached down to touch himself...
“STOP!”
The Baron pushed him away sharply. Jonathan fell backwards as the Baron stood up, falling back onto the carpet, stunned. The man glared down at him, his proud cock pointing upwards and now looking angry.
“I did NOT tell you to touch yourself!”
“I'm sorry, Sir!”
The man tucked his erection away and buttoned up his fly. “Stand up, boy. Bend over the desk.”
Jonathan did as he was told, his mind racing. He had been in the great man's presence such a short time and had ruined everything already. A terrible sick feeling filled his stomach.
The Baron walked around the back of the desk and reached underneath. He took out a pair of leather cuffs attached to chains and snapped them over Jonathan's wrists. He then went behind Jonathan and fixed something similar around each ankle. He pulled on some chains under the desk and all four points were stretched taught. Jonathan was pulled forward over the desk by his arms but with each ankle held near one of the legs of the desk, far apart.
Then the Baron went to the fireplace and picked up a cane that was propped up there. “I can see you need reminding of how things are going to work from now on.”
There was a whistling sound and the first blow struck him hard across the buttocks. It was a sharp sting that hurt more than he was expecting, driving all other feelings from his body. He could not help crying out.
The second landed exactly where the first had. This time he shrieked, piercing the tranquility of the study. The pain was like fire. He instinctively jerked, pulling on his bonds, but they held firm.
There was barely time to register each wave of pain before the next one eclipsed it. He howled, his cries pathetic to his own ears, humiliating him. He wriggled and struggled but there was no escaping the punishment. Each stroke made him cry out louder, until his strength failed him and all he could manage was a desperate moaning whimper.
A fourth strike, then a fifth, and a final sixth that was harder than all the rest and made him scream. His body went rigid with shock, trembling even after the Baron had finished and put away his cane. Tears soaked his cheeks.
He was released and slid to the floor in a heap. Sobs still racked him and he pressed his hands against the carpet, feeling the room tilt. He was aware of the Baron returning to his previous position on the sofa and drinking his tea, waiting for the boy to recover.
After a few minutes his breathing returned to normal, though his whole body was throbbing. Firmly, but without anger, the Baron said “Come here, boy.”
Jonathan crawled to him. Reaching the boots he put his arms around them and laid his tear-stained face on the shiny leather. Baron Michael reached down and gently stroked his hair. Softly he said “Remember this lesson, Jonathan. Remember what happens when you displease me.”
Jonathan croaked “Yes... Sir..”
“I know you will be a good, obedient boy in time. I know you will make me proud.”
Jonathan stayed in that position for a long time, breathing in the smell of the Baron's boots, holding onto his strong legs, feeling sad but calm, and a little comforted by the knowledge that he had paid for his mistake. He was in a strange new world now, very different to his old life. He didn't know exactly what to expect. But here, at his Master's feet, he felt safe.
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