Baron Michael nodded, stroking his chin and frowning. “Jonathan did very well in his fitness test, but yes, I expect this ordeal has been a bit of a strain. Stay with him, I'll get Stefan to check on him. And you and Terry, too. You're bleeding.”
“Oh, this is nothing, Sir. Don't worry about me.”
“Mick, I know you're as tough as your steel toe-caps, but at least let Stefan put some ice on you. I want you with me when I go to the club later, preferably without too much of a shiner. ”
Mick chuckled. “Yes, OK, Sir!”
The Baron walked into the hall. “Stefan!”
Terry followed Mick into the lounge, carrying his belt, shirt and also Mick's. As Mick knelt down at Jonathan's side, Terry passed him his stuff.
“Thanks mate. Get me some water for the kid?”
Terry had a water bottle attached to his belt. He passed it to Mick, who unscrewed the top and put it to Jonathan's lips, gently pouring. The boy responded at once, taking the bottle from him and sucking hungrily.
“Not too fast, babe. Take it easy.”
Stefan came rushing in, the short, skinny nurse. Despite being naked like all the other boys, he always maintained an air of dignity about him. He bustled over to Jonathan and brushed Mick aside tartly. “Give him some air!”
Mick looked at Terry and chuckled. “Yes, Sir!”
“And sit down, both of you. I want to see what damage you've managed to inflict on each other.”
The two guards obeyed the fussy little medic, who was taking Jonathan's pulse and gazing into his pupils. “He'll live. A little dehydration, a few bumps and scratches. He's got rope burns, is that your doing?”
“He was struggling!” Mick protested.
“Hmph!” Stefan turned to him and took hold of his chin, turning his head one way, then another. Mick smiled at him. Stefan was one of the Baron's slightly older boys, about 29, 30, something like that, but with the usual youthful freshness about him. Dark hair, intense green eyes, he was French or something, with a wiry physique. Beautiful smooth skin, a little spray of chest hair. “I'll put an ice pack on that. Anything else hurt?”
Mick stroked Stefan's slim, silky hip. “No, I feel good all over.”
The nurse pulled away sharply. “You've had your fun, soldier!” He turned to Terry. “What about you?”
Terry smirked, stroking his crotch. A large, stiff bulge was pressing up against the leather. “Well, I do have an ache down here, from watching those two. Anything you can give me for that?”
Stefan gave him a withering look. “You know the rules. I can't service anyone without the Baron's permission, and he doesn't whore me out to the guards. Why don't you two suck each other off?”
Cheeky little bastard! Mick couldn't help laughing, though. He also couldn't help noticing Stefan's prick twitching just a little. “Come on, Stef, think of it as therapy!”
The boy ignored him, taking an ice pack from his bag and pressing it to the side of Mick's face. He then turned his back on them to go back to Jonathan. Mick admired the view of Stefan's pert little bottom as he helped Jonathan stand to take him to the dormitory.
When the boys had gone, Mick turned to Terry and said “Give me some of that water!” He held the ice to his temple with one hand, taking the bottle from Terry with the other. “Damn the rules, I reckon he wanted us both.”
Terry smirked, shaking his head. “He'd get a serious whipping and you and me would be out on our ears, mate. There's gonna be plenty of hot willing ass at the club tonight, you know that. They can't resist bodyguards. Something about that air of mystery... Now, come on, you're off duty the rest of the day, aren't you? Me too, let's go get a drink.”
“Terry, all I want to do now is sleep for about a week!”
“The yoga class is on...” Terry added slyly.
Mick suddenly perked up. “What the fuck are we waiting for? Let's go!”
The courtyard between them and the guard's rec room was currently occupied by about twenty boys on little mats, going through their yoga stretches in the sunshine. The sight of all those fit naked bodies contorting themselves in various different interesting positions always held Mick's attention. They got a beer each from the rec room and sat on the low wall, watching the boys bend, stretch and twist. He was always amazed at what they could do.
Leon, the yoga instructor, led the boys through their movements from his place beneath the big cherry tree. He was about 27 and had the most amazing physique, as if he was carved out of lean muscle. As he was also naked, everything was on show, and it was perfection. Mick and Terry watched with interest as the boys contorted their beautiful forms in response to his lead.
Terry sniggered. “You know, this isn't doing my hard-on any good!”
The boy nearest them heard this and raised his eyebrows. He was a cute guy, early twenties, Vietnamese or something, beautiful skin. Like all the Baron's boys he was in great shape, lean and toned. Sir liked to make sure they stayed that way, so they had regular fitness classes, including gym, sports, runs, pilates and yoga to keep them nice and supple. Mick heartily approved.
Leon stood tall, reaching both hands up towards the sky, legs together. The sun played over his sculpted torso nicely. He then bent at the waist, placing both palms on the grass between his feet, his legs straight, and then tucked his head between his calves, hugging his legs.
The boys flowed suit, and the Vietnamese boy's silky bubble-butt pointed directly at Mick, a tantalising pink rosebud seeming to peer at him with interest.
Mick felt his cock stir once more.
“Hold for a slow count of ten, boys.” Leon said.
Mick couldn't help himself. He stood up and poured a little trickle of cold beer from his can into the
smooth cleft. The boy gasped as it splashed his sensitive hole.
Mick sank his middle finger into the tight, silky orifice, hearing the boy grunt but not protest. He pushed in deeper, feeling the boy's muscles grip his finger. Finding the soft prostate he stroked it a few times. The boy made soft, quiet sounds that could have been whimpers. Mick felt the boy's pulse, warm and strong.
“And up.” Leon said, straightening. Mick pulled his finger out quickly. A bit too quickly. The boy yelped and everyone else looked round at him.
Terry took Mick by the arm and dragged him away. “You're going to get us both killed, you stupid wanker!”
Mick laughed but let himself by led off towards the mansion.
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