“Claudia, before I dismiss you, I have something for you.” Chris got up and walked over to the umbrella stand. Claudia’s eyes widened as he drew out a short, flexible cane with a wrapped leather handle. He beckoned and she rose and walked over to him, her eyes on the varnished rod.
“This,” Chris said thoughtfully, “is an excellent style of cane. It is made from imported rattan, finished in England.” He handed it to her. “I have selected it for use on Brian.”
She looked up at him in confusion. Brian’s head shot up as well.
“You are familiar with the principles of using one, I assume?” Chris handed it to her.
She took it gingerly, holding it with the deep respect she felt. “Please, Chris... I am familiar, but never... I only...”
“Yes, well, if you are ever given a position of authority over other slaves, you will be expected to know when and how to express it. The strap requires a little more upper arm strength than you have to be effective, but your hand-eye coordination is excellent. If you’re unsure, we’ll have a lesson right now.” Chris took the cane back and snapped his fingers. “Up, boy. I want you bent at the waist, your hands around your ankles!”
As Brian got into position, Claudia felt suddenly warm in the small room. “Please, please,” she said desperately. “I can’t... I mean, I won’t be able to do it well, Chris. I’m really just a slave, I can’t be in charge of anyone!”
“But you will be,” Chris answered sternly. “This is part of your training. Now pay attention.”
He walked over to stand at an appropriate distance and angle from Brian’s upturned posterior, and showed Claudia how to bring the cane across in a straight line, keeping the wrist firm. After showing her the movement in slow motion, tapping Brian each time, he sped it up and delivered a whistling strike exactly across the middle of Brian’s ass. Brian yelped in pain, and gripped his ankles harder, gritting his teeth. The cane left a line that went from white to red in an instant, and Chris called Claudia up to look at it.
Three more demonstration strikes, each one getting another cry of pain, and then Chris took Claudia’s arm and guided her through the swinging motion, looking for all the world like a golf pro. Claudia’s first practice swings were bouncy waves of the punishment instrument, but with Chris’s arm over hers, she helped add a fifth and sixth mark to Brian’s ass.
“You’ll get better with practice,” Chris promised. “By the end of the week, I want you to be able to judge when one of your strikes will mark and when it will draw blood. Keep it clean and dry, and never leave it laying on the floor where someone can step on it. Down, boy, we’re finished with you. Go sit in the corner.” Chris pointed and Brian crawled.
“Tomorrow and for the next two days, I will advise you when to use it, but after that, you will be expected to figure that out by yourself. And Claudia, I’ll give you this warning only once.” He wrapped his fingers through the chain that was her collar and pulled her close to him. She could smell mint on his breath, see the faint lines of a scar on his cheek. “If I find out that you are being more lenient than the situation demands, or that you have decided suddenly that Brian never needs correction, you can find yourself changing places with Sharon very quickly. I’m sure she’d love to give up stable work in favor of housework and serving you in favor of supervising Brian. Am I very clear?” Chris released her and she stumbled back.
“Yes, yes, Chris,” she answered quickly. “I understand!”
“Then you may go.”
She backed away from him, and with one last glance at Brian, she left the room. Chris waited until the door was closed, and then turned to Brian, who crouched in the corner, four good stripes on his ass and two already getting faint. The majordomo walked slowly back to his desk and put things away for a while, shuffling papers and shutting the computer down. Brian remained where he was, in silence.
“You know,” Chris said, leaning back in his chair, “you’re probably the worst one here. You really think that we’re fooled by your ‘successful slave’ attitude, and that all the things you once heard about ‘bottom pride’ and ‘top’s disease’ applies here. You and Sharon have read far too much, both fiction and theory, and you’ve never really lived any of it.”
Brian bit his lip, but didn’t move.
“Go to bed, Brian,” Chris sighed. “Claudia will explain to the others why you can’t join them in their usual sarcastic, antagonistic, or mindless remarks. And if she doesn’t, you’ll just have to endure their questions about why you’ve curled up on the floor next to your bed. Sleep well, little pet.”
Chapter Seventeen
Claudia did indeed explain Brian’s silence and his strange sleeping habit to the other slaves when they met at lights out, and his predicament sobered them all. The morning was even worse, as he crawled to the bathroom as they walked, crawled to the dining room where they took breakfast, and ate on the floor, from a round bowl that Cook had prepared for him.
Of course, there wasn’t a lot of time to give him sympathy. Breakfast had to be served to the owners, and the dishes cleared away, and by the time he crawled out of the back door to head for the stables, everyone was too busy with work or assignments of their own to give him much thought. And besides, the cane that Claudia suddenly carried around was far more mysterious and disconcerting. She had refused to say anything about it. And just as new but slightly less frightening was Robert’s cock ring, which made him look bigger and more impressive. He too, refused to elaborate on where it came from.
When Sharon went through her half-hearted invitations for oral sex, both Robert and Claudia demurred as usual, and Chris didn’t push the issue for a change. The only thing he did was give one short glance in Robert’s direction, which for some reason made the big man blush. But then, he just shrugged and dismissed them to their chores and assignments.
By early afternoon, Brian’s silence seemed to fall on all of them. His presence back in the house was a constant reminder of the kind of behavior any one of them could be ordered to emulate, or worse, live by. When Chris put little yellow ribbons in Brian’s hair, situated to as to be approximately where one would decorate a poodle or other show dog, the other three blushed for him. And when Claudia was ordered to give Brian her first six stripes, for failing to empty bedroom trash bins fast enough, she cried even as she swung the rattan. Chris wasn’t satisfied, and had her give Brian another six.
On the second day of his sentence, a dance instructor arrived, and Sharon started formal training in several different styles of dance. She was paired with Robert for practice, and was told that she would be expected to be excellent at following leads and mastering the art of looking like it was all effortless. One pair of heels was returned to her to dance in, plus a pair of boots to practice C&W styles. When she asked why, without thinking, Chris smiled and told her that the Marketplace had a lot of buyers from the American southwest, and that was her question for the day.
Brian didn’t get any questions this week. But on his second afternoon of being a pet, he got a long, cigar-shaped plug inserted into his rear, with a profusion of ribbons extending from the other end, suggesting a curly, metallic, purple tail. It matched the little purple bells that Chris had hung from his nipple rings, which tinkled and rang with every breath. They shook like hell, giving off a constant jingling sound when Claudia screwed up her courage and placed six “real” stripes on his ass while Chris watched. She had missed with one of them and cut him terribly across the soft part of the leg where the thigh touches the bottom of the ass, but Chris shrugged and told her to just do that one again. When she was finished, Chris told her to re-insert the “tail,” which she did with much reluctance and more than a little distaste.
The bad stripe, the lowest one, hurt the most. It was also the first one that showed blood. As Claudia cleaned the cane, she cried again, but softly, so no one would hear.
* * * *
“Actually, I’m enjoying this,” Sharon said cruelly, looking directly at Bria
n, who was already curled up in his blanket on the floor. “It’s a lot quieter in here with the fairy motor mouth being a good little puppy dog.” She made little barking noises at him and he pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
“Aww, the little puppy doesn’t have any wise-ass stuff to say,” she mocked. “Isn’t it just too bad, he can’t tell us all what to do!”
“Why don’t you leave him alone?” Robert asked, annoyed. “Don’t you think he has a hard enough time as it is?”
“Oh, shut up, sissy boy,” she snapped back at him. “I don’t have to listen to you. Just because you’re licking Chris’s butt hole so deep your, like, nose is as brown as dirt doesn’t mean a thing to me, OK? You’re nothing but a big, fat wimp, even Claudia can whip your ass, and see if she doesn’t start to next week!”
Robert glared back at her. “You know, I’m tired of your insults,” he said. His voice was so strong that Brian poked his head out of the blanket to watch. “You’re not exactly the best of show here, you know. You work out in the damn stable, for crying out loud! Even Brian didn’t start out there his first week! And they’ve never bothered to rotate you inside, like the rest of us. And Master Grendel and Mistress Alexandra don’t even see you privately except to test you on how much you’re learning or to lend you to someone else! I even have to teach you how to talk like a normal human being! So I don’t know where you get off insulting any of us!” He swept his arm around the room.
Sharon stared at him in partial amazement. She wasn’t the only one. Claudia, who was tying the cane to the steel frame of the bed (lacking anywhere else to put it at night), silently cheered him.
But Sharon recovered quickly. “Don’t try to pull this bullshit with me, you, you, eunuch!” She spat out the word triumphantly. “That’s what you are, you know. That’s all you’re good for, because no one needs straight guy slaves, OK? No one! So you’re looking at a life of being big and stupid and, and you’ll be lucky if they cut your dick off, because it doesn’t work anyway!”
He glared at her for another moment, and then dropped his head and turned away. He shot a glance of sympathy in Brian’s direction, only to see Brian give him a thumbs-up sign and a wink, and then they both drew covers around themselves.
I don’t need this, Robert thought, snuggling down. I was so thrown by what happened to Brian I was a mess tonight, even though it was only Mistress Alexandra who could hear me. Maybe I need to have people to laugh at before I can say anything right. He snickered a little at the thought of trotting out his fellow slaves in assorted costumes just so he could release some tension before performing. Then, he sighed and rubbed his bearded cheek against the pillow.
Funny, he thought, as he got comfortable, I feel a lot better now that I’ve told her off. Maybe she’ll leave me alone now. Oh, no such luck, I’ll have to deal with her in the morning, when she... when she...
* * * *
“Please let me lick your big, fat balls and nibble on your cock,” Sharon begged, her eyes lost in a sea of boredom. Chris stood by noting down her exact words for Grendel to review.
“Hmm,” Robert said, spreading his legs. He was still seated at the breakfast table. Since it had been his time to serve the owners, he was eating last. He peeled an orange and took a slice to eat, and then looked down at his lap. Then he looked down at Sharon, who had issued her offer/request from a kneeling position. “Well, since you asked so nicely, how can I refuse?”
Sharon nodded and started to rise before what he said got through to her. She stared at him, her mouth opening in shock.
“Good,” Chris murmured. “Sharon, go to it.”
Sharon drew in one hissing breath and let it out in a hot rush over Robert’s cock. It felt great! He slid down further in the seat and spread his legs wider. As he watched the beautiful woman bend her neck and begin to lick at him, the tendrils of pleasure ran all the way through his body, down to his toes! Now tell me what a sissy I am, he thought, relaxing as she washed the flat of her tongue over his shaft. Now tell me anything, you selfish little harridan!
She licked around the bulbous head, and then took it into her mouth, opening wide to receive it, and he lifted his hips to stuff more in. He hadn’t felt anything like this since the early months of his marriage, when he and his wife were trying so hard to fulfill each other’s perceived fantasies. He sighed as she pushed herself forward as far as she could and her throat contracted around the head. Now say anything, my little spoiled slave girl, he thought vindictively. Where the hell did you get off acting like you were my mistress? I don’t have to listen to you any more!
And then, his thoughts of mean-spiritedness faded away under the onslaught of her lips and tongue. She was so good! How did he not appreciate this before? As she pulled away and stuck her tongue up, between his balls and his cock, making them press around the constricting band of the leather cock ring, he swelled almost painfully, and moaned his pleasure.
Brian, from his vantage place on the floor, was staring in open- mouthed amazement. Robert’s cock, engorged and bound by the cock ring, was all of his wet dreams come true. Fat and limp, it had held promise. In its glory, it was nothing less than art. Brian’s mouth watered, and he had to look away.
Sharon returned to the cock and took it back in her mouth and began to suck in earnest. She was having a little difficulty, which Chris seemed to be amused by, but she kept with it, wetting her lips down with kittenish licks from her pink tongue, and then diving in again for another taste. The cock-ring became genuinely uncomfortable, but its pressure provided a kind of pain that Robert enjoyed, and he gasped, throwing his head back.
“On her!” Chris warned.
And Robert heard and reached out to grasp Sharon’s bobbing head. As his orgasm gathered up in him, he pulled her back away from him and grabbed his cock with the other hand. His come came in heavy, fast spurts which shot directly into Sharon’s face, against her cheeks and mouth, and then against her chin and down her throat. She grimaced, but couldn’t pull away from him as he milked his cock of its last fluids and shook it at her, sending a few more drops to land on her breasts and belly.
Brian felt like applauding. Instead, he barked, feeling foolish and silly but suddenly full of energy. Claudia didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused. And Sharon dragged a napkin down from the table to wipe herself off.
Chris calmly turned his attention back to the schedule, and the day began. And although she was hostile and glared at him all through her lesson, Sharon didn’t say a cross word to Robert all day. Unfortunately, his euphoria was not as long-lived as he would have liked. In the late afternoon, Alexandra called upon him to report to her and Grendel about how the lessons with Sharon were going. Robert was reluctant to tell them that he thought Sharon was a lost cause, so he hesitated and stammered, and lost track of what he was saying, and made a fool of himself. Worst of all, his voice scaled up and he called Alexandra “mistress.” Grendel stepped into the hall and grabbed Brian, who was crawling by on his way to see if the towels in the laundry were dry, and kicked him into the library, where he took a very nasty beating that Robert had to watch.
And the only sounds that Brian could make were animal-like whines and whimpers. Robert fought back tears, and wanted to crawl out of the room himself, but he left with only a warning to do better.
* * * *
That evening, Brian arrived on his hands and knees at the kitchen, where he was told Chris was waiting for him. Chris was alone, and it was late. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee competed with the scent of the night-blooming flowers planted in the rear gardens. Chris had the back door open, and there was a newspaper on the kitchen work table. He beckoned to Brian and pointed at the floor beside him, and Brian moved to the correct spot and waited.
Chris finished turning the pages and casually dropped one hand to rub Brian on the side of his head, near his ear. Brian shook at the caress, and a whimper came from his throat.
“I thought you might like that,” C
hris said. “You hate living this way, but you also love it, don’t you?”
Brian felt a rush of heat and lowered his head, but Chris followed the movement with his hand. “You’d love nothing more right now then to be able to lay down on the floor and fall asleep, just like a faithful dog. Am I right?”
Brian nodded, his eyes closed.
“So listen very carefully, Brian. This may be the best advice you will ever get from me. Remember this feeling every waking moment. Think of it before you open your mouth to speak, think of it when you’re doing some unpleasant chore, and think of it when you’re being punished. Because this is real, Brian. Your body and mind, attuned to one thing, to being the loyal and loving pet of a master or mistress whose feet you yearn to sleep at.” Chris stood up and stretched. “Your punishment is lifted. You have, however, lost whatever status you had. As far as we are concerned, you’re starting back at the beginning. Don’t ever try to lie or dissemble again. Or you’ll be sent away.”
Brian cleared his throat but didn’t get up. He spoke his first words in three days. “Thank you, Chris.”
“You’re very welcome, boy,” Chris patted his head and shooed him out.
* * * *
When he got back to the dorm, he was the last one in. He went over to Robert and kissed him full on the mouth. Robert snapped open his eyes and looked at him suspiciously.
“That was a thank-you for your standing up to her,” he said with a grin. “It was the best thing I’d heard in three days!”
Robert smiled and Sharon scowled.
“I’m glad they lifted your sentence,” Robert said, sitting up. “It was getting kind of quiet in here. And... I’m sorry about today.”
Brian shrugged. “Hey, at least I got a beating from the big guy himself. As far as I’m concerned, that’s something.”
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