It seemed to take forever. In reality it probably no more than two hours. William
tried to keep his eyes averted to save Elijah the worst of his humiliation but
Brutus would have none of it, insisting that Lyall keep William’s attention
fixed on what was happening. Thus, William witnessed it all. From Elijah’s
embarrassment as he flushed cleansing water from his body, to his cries of pain
muffled behind leather and wood as Brutus ruthlessly refilled him time and time
again.
It was strange, William thought as he took his turn on the table and felt a corresponding blush creep up his own cheeks when he met Elijah’s eyes. There were always witnesses to this procedure, he remembered everyone being present during his cleansings at one time or another, but they were always busy, an integral part of the process rather than a dedicated audience. It was being the focus of attention that made the experience so humiliating, which was presumably why it had been ordered.
Finally, however, it was over and the two younger boys found themselves nude and dancing from foot to foot on the cold stone floor waiting for the next part of the punishment.
“I will not do it,” William whispered when Brutus’ attention was turned elsewhere.
Elijah glanced over and then replied in equally quiet tones, “If you do not then they may find worse humiliations to heap upon us.”
“I don’t care,” insisted William. “There is nothing they can do or say that will make me lift a switch to you. There is no pleasure in undeserved punishment.”
“And if they insist?”
“Well then, I shall run. And if that makes me a coward and not fit to be a wolf then perhaps Brutus has been right all along and I am no more than a hart masquerading as something more.”
“Upstairs, the both of you,” Brutus called from the other side of the room and the boys dashed away up the stairs to the relative warmth of their shared room.
As they piled in through the door, William let loose a wild shout of glee and threw himself on the bed. Elijah, somewhat more sedately, grabbed his robe and went to stand in front of the fire, grinning over at his friend.
“Do you think that was all of it?” he asked once William had calmed.
“I’m sure of it,” William answered. “And it was not so bad, was it?”
The friends exchanged embarrassed grins, and then Elijah held out his hand. “I suppose we have nothing left to hide from each other,” he said.
William snatched up his own robe and went to join Elijah, standing close and wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist. “That is how it should be,” he said. “I do not wish for secrets, not anymore.”
“Secrets? I cannot recall ever having kept a secret from you.”
Remembering the tryst on the riverbank, William bit back the caustic comment that came to mind. Perhaps there had been no more to it that a swimming lesson gone awry, but even so, it hurt that Elijah did not see that private time he had stolen as important enough to share. At this second, it didn’t seem important to William either. Elijah’s body pressed against him, warm and pliant like home made toffee, his eyes melted pools of desire, his breath sweet when William leaned in…
“Were you told to dress?”
The boys sprung apart as Brutus appeared in the doorway.
“You didn’t tell us that we should not,” William answered, his jaw set in determined fashion. He shoved Elijah behind him as though to protect his friend from whatever Brutus wanted.
“I’m telling you now,” Brutus said, glaring pointedly from one to the other. At their looks of confusion he guffawed with laughter and shouted out into the corridor, “Cropper, you have surpassed yourself. The children thought they were done!”
Thrown into a complete panic, William bolted for the door, and for once managed to escape Brutus’ grasp. Not that it served him, as when he rounded the corner he ran straight into Cropper’s arms.
“Let me go!” he yelled, struggling desperately. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were free. When Brutus sent them up from the basement room, William had truly believed them forgiven.
Cropper’s only answer was a short laugh as he tossed William back towards Brutus. The world tipped and William found himself pushed face first into the wall, a hand closing around his throat and another slipping inside his robe and grabbing his balls. In a voice worthy of nightmares, Brutus whispered, “If you don’t stop fighting, lad, I swear I will squeeze them ‘til you scream.”
William froze, his instinct to flee superseded by Brutus’ all too real promise. Anyone who could conspire to the type of punishment inflicted on Jones, would not hesitate in carrying out such a measly threat. Not releasing his grip, Brutus pulled him around and William watched as Elijah was escorted past them, not back to the stairs as he had feared, but through into the study. Did that mean the punishment would not involve a beating?
“What – what’s going to happen?” he asked, cursing himself for the hitch of fear that made him stumble over his words. A wolf indeed. He was nothing more than a snivelling cur. Cropper showed no such weakness.
The grip on his balls loosened, fingers that had pinched now stroked and soothed. William felt himself getting hard and fought the urge to squirm away.
“Elijah is about to learn how obedience comes in many forms,” Brutus said, his breath hot against William’s ear. “And you, my boy,” the fingers slid further and tugged at the piercing between William’s legs, “you are going to be spanked.”
William’s full body shudder was precisely what Brutus had hoped for; the
more excited the boy was, the easier it was going to be to drive their point
home.
Wrapping one arm around William’s chest, Brutus hoisted him up, carried him bodily into the study and threw him onto the couch. William landed with a bounce and a yelp, clutching the cushions to avoid sprawling headfirst onto the floor. His robe spilled up his shoulder blades leaving his naked backside stuck high into the air.
“Stay exactly like that,” Brutus chuckled, swatting William’s upraised rump before reaching for the trifles he had brought from downstairs. The cuffs could wait, the chain had to be fastened first or the impact would be lost.
Over by the desk, Lyall and Brolly were working on Elijah, strictly supervised by Cropper. That left Brutus to his own devices, though it was good to know he had reinforcements if he needed them.
“Open up,” he said, poking William’s thighs apart. The boy co-operated immediately, peering back between his legs as Brutus threaded delicate gold links through the guiche ring. “Turn over.”
William rolled onto his back, staring up at Brutus with wide eyes. Only the occasional glance was directed at Elijah and seemed to be more about curiosity than fear. It never failed to amaze Brutus how, once sex was in the offing, William suddenly submitted. If there was ever a case of someone being led around by the wrong head, then he was looking at him right now.
The boy’s cock was already hard, the foreskin peeled back to reveal his other piercing. Brutus worked it a few times, smooth strokes from root to tip that made William thrust up into his hand and groan quietly. It didn’t take many moments to take him to the edge and, once William was too far gone to do more than whimper, Brutus quickly fastened a leather strap around the base of his cock. The boy flapped at him in frustration, trying to touch himself and Brutus growled, smacking his hands away – the cuffs were certainly coming next - until William slumped back against the cushions, his arms over his eyes as he shivered with frustration.
The dangling end of the chain Brutus tucked through a loop on the cock strap and attached to the dressing ring, pulling it tight enough so that any movement would create tension on both ends. To be certain he had it right, Brutus gave it a flick and grinned as William cursed loudly, bucking and twisting as he tried to adjust to the contradictory messages his body sent him.
“God, please, no.” Elijah’s agonised plea came, and Brutus
only just managed to grab William in time as he launched himself across the
room.
Wrestling the boy face first into his lap, Brutus snapped, “Someone throw me the collar and cuffs.”
Lyall glanced over, eyes narrowing as he presumably calculated the chances of Elijah escaping if he tried to obey. Elijah was in a similar position to William, only pinned face first over the desk as Brolly pushed the finger of ginger deep inside him. Brutus smirked as, without warning, Elijah’s elbow snapped back to catch Lyall in the midriff; his brother was forever getting distracted at the wrong moment.
“In a moment,” Lyall wheezed, slapping Elijah around the back of the head. “This one will be off if I let go even for a second.”
“Cropper?” Brutus had more sense than try demanding, but Cropper saw fit to toss the leather straps in Brutus’ direction anyway.
William struggled and scratched as Brutus fastened the cuffs around his wrists. The collar was even more difficult and Brutus found himself wishing for another pair of hands as William squirmed and wriggled across the couch. Three times Brutus had to drag him back across his lap before he managed to fix the strip of leather around the boy’s neck. Then it was simply a matter of attaching them together so that William’s hands were held high up his back.
Finally he was done. To celebrate, Brutus landed an experimental smack on William’s upturned buttocks, chuckling as the lad grunted and the pale skin burned pink.
“Well, I’m all done,” he announced to the room in general and leaned over to extract a cheroot from the box on the occasional table. “What’s keeping you?”
“Nearly finished,” Lyall said and then bellowed as Elijah stamped on his foot. “God damn it, Brutus, you could at least lend a hand!”
Laughing loudly, Brutus stood up, tumbling William to the floor. The boy landed heavily on his back, his hands forcing his chest into an unnatural arch that drew attention to his pebbled nipples. Unable to resist the tempting sight, Brutus bent down and ran the tip of the unlit cheroot down William’s torso from the dip where his collar bones met, to the top of his wet cock.
William gasped and chased it, hips pumping, only to subside with a muttered “bastard” when Brutus deliberately avoided a more intimate caress, patted his cheek and stood up.
“Where did Cropper go?” Brutus asked, suddenly realising the older boy had vanished.
“Gone to dress for the occasion,” Brolly answered. “He said he’d be back when we’d, and I quote, ‘finished fooling around and have things ready.’ Honestly, you’d think he was scared of getting his hands dirty.”
“I find it easier to have others befouled on my behalf. As they say, there is little point in keeping a dog and barking oneself,” Cropper interjected from the doorway. Dressed in his black silk robe, he leaned casually against the doorjamb, his icy gaze sweeping the room and its sheepish looking occupants.
Elijah chose that moment to struggle again and, conscious of Cropper’s scrutiny and the conditions of their bet, Brutus stepped forward to take command. He leaned close to Elijah ear and, quietly enough that no one else could hear, whispered, “Is this how you repay me? Is this how a ram behaves when tested by his master?”
“But it hurts,” Elijah sobbed in answer.
Sudden empathy flared up in Brutus’ heart. He remembered all too well how much the ginger burned when it was inside, its astringent juices scalding the tender tissue each time the body clenched around it. But he couldn’t afford to flinch from this and neither could Elijah.
Placing a gentle hand in the centre of Elijah’s back, he said, “And what is pain for us but something to be endured. A challenge to absorb into our very being. A catalyst to make us stronger and better able to serve.”
Elijah turned and his eyes scoured Brutus’ face. “You’ve done this,” he said and when Brutus nodded in reply, his head dropped and he whispered, “Then I shall also.”
“That’s my boy,” Brutus said and patted Elijah’s back before standing to address Cropper. “We’re ready to start when you are.”
“Not before time,” Cropper said, taking his seat on the couch. He leaned forward and cocked his head at William who was lying on the floor at his feet. “And you, young William. Are you ready? I’ll have you know Brutus’ is quite a dab hand with a spanking when he puts his mind to it.”
William glared back at him, his mouth working around words that were certain
to get him in worse strife than was already promised. There was nothing he could
say, so he turned his head, choosing to look at Elijah instead. His friend’s
face was still flushed but he seemed calmer. William wanted to call out to him,
to reassure Elijah that he was here, but really what was the point. It wasn’t
as though he could do anything to help, trussed up like a chicken readied for
the spit.