Jamie couldn't take his eyes off Steve. He was like a little bunny rabbit caught in the headlights of a speeding lorry. Mick wished he could read minds, though he was getting a good idea of what they were all thinking by their body language.
The Baron was also taking this all in, and smiled mysteriously. Mick thought to himself that working for this man was certainly a very unique experience.
Had it been a month already? Time had moved so quickly since the Baron had taken him on...
A clear, bright summer morning, full of promise...
Bombing down the M11 on his GSXR, turning off onto obscure country roads, a strange sense of adventure filling him like golden sunshine in his blood...
Seeing the Baron's estate come into view, he suddenly felt butterflies in his stomach. He had only vague ideas of what went on within those walls. Still, it was too late to change his mind. He had no option but to follow this road and see where it took him.
Eventually he came to a pair of huge metal gates and came to a stop before them. Dismounting and removing his helmet, he found the intercom and pressed the buzzer.
“Hello?” came the tinny voice.
“Mick Ashton.”
There was a buzz and the gates slowly began to open. Getting back on his bike, he rode up towards the mansion. It was a huge, grand old building and looked well maintained. Standing outside the main entrance was a tall young black guy in a sleeveless army green T-shirt and black leather trousers and boots. He watched Mick approach with arms folded and a welcoming smile.
“Mick, good morning. I'm Roy, let me show you where to park your bike.”
He led Mick round the side of the big house to a large area where several cars were parked. Nice cars. Very nice cars!
“I hope you had a good journey.” Roy said. He was well-muscled with short-cropped hair. Did the Baron tell his security staff to adopt the military look, or did he choose guys who already looked the part?
“Yeah, nice day for it. I never would have found it without the directions, though.”
“The Baron will see you in a few minutes, you can wait in here.” Roy led him into the house, through a well-furnished and decorated foyer into a large room with furniture that looked old fashioned but at the same time new and comfortable. A grandfather clocked in one corner ticked away solemnly. Mick was surprised at how quickly he was feeling relaxed.
“Adam will get you a drink, and something to eat if you are hungry.”
Mick couldn't help jumping at the sight of the naked boy who had just entered the room. Adam was a lad of no more than twenty-four or so, slim and smooth, handsome and alert. Roy noticed his reaction and smiled, leaving the room.
The boy stood with his hands behind his back. “What would you like, Sir?”
“Er, I, I, er … Water. Please. Just water.”
Adam smiled sweetly and nodded, leaving the room. Sunshine from the large open French windows fell in a broad stripe across his skin, painting his firm, rounded buttocks a beautiful rosy gold. Mick had a sudden strong urge to touch that smooth rump, to see if it felt as good as it looked. He swallowed and his throat was suddenly very dry. He would be needing that glass of water!
He began the cumbersome process of removing his leathers. By the time he had finished, Adam had returned with a tall glass of cold water. “There you go, Sir.” Mick took the glass and the boy nodded and was gone again, too quickly.
Mick made himself comfortable and relaxed. Luckily this wasn't the kind of job interview where he was required to wear a suit, so he was able to keep on his denim jeans and a simple T-shirt. Dressing up under the bike leathers would not have been ideal, especially on such a hot day.
After a few minutes Roy came back. “This way, please.”
He was led through the house and into a large garden. The grounds stretched out towards a distant green horizon, merging into a vast forest. A tall man in a white shirt stood on a broad patio facing the scenery, a rifle hanging from one hand. A second man, dressed the same as Roy, stood nearby. As Roy and Mick approached, the man with the gun called out in a loud voice “Pull!”
From somewhere nearby was a loud bang and a small dark shape went shooting into the air. The man lifted his rifle, took aim and fired. The object disintegrated into shards. The man lowered his gun and turned to them, smiling.
Roy did the introductions. “Baron Michael; Mick Ashton.”
The Baron handed his rifle to Roy and stepped forward, shaking Mick by the hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mick. Welcome to my abode!”
“It's magnificent!”
“I'm glad you approve! This is Gavin, my head of security.”
Big, muscular, tattooed, Welsh, moustache, very obviously ex-forces. Very firm handshake.
The Baron led Mick to a table and chairs that had been set up nearby and they all sat. Adam appeared as if from nowhere, carrying a tray with water and orange juice. Mick couldn't help but look at the naked youth again, but the Baron was also quite striking. “I've had a look at your CV, very interesting. I see you were in the armed forces, so was Gavin.”
“I checked out your record.” Gavin said, his voice deep and gravelly. “Impressive.”
“Thank you.”
The Baron smiled. “OK, let me give you an idea of the set-up here. The security staff here keep an eye not just on me but also my property. And that property includes my boys. They are, for the most part, much more vulnerable than myself.”
Gavin continued “The Baron currently has fifty-three boys on the estate. They live and work here. Mostly they stay on site, but sometimes they will accompany the Baron on social events. Security is provided for all such excursions.”
“They are...” Mick hesitated. “Escorts?”
The Baron laughed. “They are slaves! Servants, escorts, masseurs, waiters, butlers, gardeners, cleaners... they fulfil a variety of functions. If you're asking do I fuck them, the answer is yes. Does that make them boy-whores? That depends on your viewpoint, doesn't it? Each boy signs up for a six-month contract, during which time the estate covers all his costs. He is fed well, sheltered in excellent accommodation, receives first class medical support and the opportunity to take part in a lifestyle that most people can only dream about.”
“So they don't receive... wages?”
“No. But they are provided with everything they need. Young Adam whom you met just now? He had a long-standing problem with his teeth. At the end of his first contract he received top-notch cosmetic dentistry. He could never have afforded that himself working as a PA. He is now on his third contract with me. Other boys have benefited from my generosity in other ways. One had parents who were experiencing difficulty gaining indefinite leave to remain in the UK. My solicitor took care of it. Another is on a gap year, studying astrophysics at Cambridge. I arranged for him to meet one of the project leaders of the European Space Agency. Invaluable to his studies and future career.” He chuckled to himself. “Little things like that!”
Mick nodded. “I see. So the security staff are essentially bodyguards?”
Gavin nodded. “And more. We are guardians for these young lads. If you think of the Baron as their benevolent father, we are like the protective big brothers. We generally watch over them, look out for any problems or difficulties they might be having. Settle any incidents of indiscipline, should they arise. By which I mean breaking up fights, that kind of thing. Punishments are handled personally by the Baron.”
Mick's mind raced, imagining someone like Adam being punished by the imposing man sitting before him.
Gavin added “There are times when the Baron is busy and may pass that duty onto one of us, but you must remember that is STRICTLY FORBIDDEN for the guards to have any sexual contact with the boys without the Baron's permission. Break that rule and you're out on your ear!”
“Understood.” Mick said, glad that the table hid his erection.
The Baron smiled. “Security staff also live on site, your quarters are well-equipped and you have access to recreational facilities including an excellent gym, a social club, squash court, dojo and swimming pool.”
Gavin said “The boys clean communal areas but not your private quarters. They are not allowed in there!”
The Baron looked across at his head of security, an eyebrow raised. The Welshman met his gaze and then looked back to Mick, scrutinising him for a few seconds before turning back to the Baron and nodding. The Baron smiled and said “OK, Mick, we're both satisfied so far. I'd like to start you on a week's trial, see how you get on. I have a feeling you're going to fight right in.”
He stood, as did Gavin. The interview, such as it had been, was over. Mick stood as well and the Baron beamed, holding out his hand. They shook again and Mick said “Thank you, Sir.”
Roy took Mick to the guard's quarters and helped him move in. He tried on his uniform. The shirt was comfortable enough, but the leather trousers would take some getting used to, he thought. He met some of the other guards and had lunch with them. At two o'clock they started going back to work, leaving Mick to his own devices.
“You can have a look around the grounds, relax in your room, whatever you want.” Roy said.
“By myself? Sounds dull. I barely got here.”
“Well, you're not officially on duty until 0800 hours tomorrow, but if you want you can come with me on my grounds patrol. It's a nice stroll if nothing else.”
“Beats twiddling my thumbs. Let's go!”
Roy strapped a walkie-talkie radio, a bottle of water and a roll of rope to his belt and led Mick out towards the forest that lay beyond the garden. The sun blazed gloriously as the two men entered the green world. They soon left the mansion far behind and the only sound was the gentle hiss of the wind in the tall trees and the occasional chirping of birds.
Roy smiled at him. “So what made you apply for this? Hardly your average security job, is it?”
Mick laughed. “After leaving the army I had a look round and didn't see anything that interested me. When I heard about this place I was curious, I suppose. What about you?”
“Well, I've done door work since I left school, been in the bouncer game ever since. It's OK, but after twelve years wrestling drunks you kind of itch for something different. Then, a couple of years ago I started getting into the BDSM scene. Got myself a few subs. One of them told me about the Baron. I'd heard the rumours but didn't know whether to believe them or not. Now I know!”
“Well this is definitely something different!”
Roy chuckled. “It's nice being surrounded by lots of nice naked boys. Though it can be a bit frustrating at times! But you just have to deal with it.”
They penetrated deeper into the forest and soon they were swallowed up in a pleasant green shade. Squirrels scattered frantically across their path as their boots crunched through fallen leaves and branches. The fresh, vital scents seemed to fill Mick's head with every breath.
A sound made him freeze, stopping instantly. Roy stopped too and frowned. “What's wrong?”
Mick was scanning the trees around them. “I heard something. Is there anyone else out here besides us?”
“There shouldn't be. I didn't hear anything. Are you sure it wasn't an animal?”
“It didn't sound like an animal... There!”
About thirty metres to their right a patch of bracken moved. Mick headed towards it, Roy following. When they got closer they could see a pair of legs barely hidden by the bracken; the owner was trying to slowly crawl further under cover. Roy called out “Hey! We can see you! Get out of there!”
A young man stood up, scowling at the two guards. He was dressed casually, in shorts and T-shirt with a small rucksack on his back. Roy said “Philip! What the fuck are you doing here? You were given the boot two weeks ago!”
Philip tried to look dignified but wasn't making a very good job of it. Skinny, about twenty-five, a bit camp and delicate looking. “Nothing.”
“Nothing, bollocks!” Roy walked over and took the lad by the shoulders, turning him round. Ignoring Philip's protests, he opened the rucksack and reached inside, taking out a camera. “What's this? A few pictures for the tabloids, is it? How much are they paying you? It must be a lot to risk getting a criminal record for trespassing!”
The boy turned back to the face them. His already pale face had gone a shade whiter. “Please, I can't have that! Keep the camera, just let me go.”
Roy looked at Mick and laughed. Mick frowned “Who is this kid?”
“He was one of the Baron's boys. For about four days! Couldn't quite knuckle down to the regime, could you, Philip? And the Baron doesn't take kindly to disobedience. Young Philip here got sloppy in his work, then refused to take his punishment, so it was bye-bye boy! Only now he's sneaking back to try and get some photos for the local gutter press, I bet.”
Philip raised his hands, his voice getting a little shrill. “I'm going, I'm going. Let's just forget all of this, OK? Please, don't get the police involved. Please!”
Roy laughed again. “Well, I dunno. What's it worth?”
The boy frowned. “I don't have any money.”
“No, but maybe you can pay another way.” Roy said, a harsh edge creeping into his voice.
Philip looked frozen with fear, looking from one guard to the other, his mouth hanging open. Mick watch, fascinated, as a range of emotions played across the young lad's face. Fear, confusion, realisation, dismay, and then a strange calm.
Roy took the roll of rope from his belt and said “Follow me.”
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