Ballard relaxed back on the couch and listened to the sweet sounds of his empire. The impact of a flat hand on flesh echoed around the study, punctuated by the gentler pitter patter of the cane, and beneath them both, like the throbbing purr of a tiger, the sobs of two boys desperate for release.
Beside him, William’s begging was muffled by a cushion, but the vibrations travelled through the furniture setting up a delightful resonance in Ballard’s erection. Soon, he would move the pillow and make use of the boy’s mouth, but for now he was content to watch as his second charge underwent his ordeal.
Much to Ballard’s surprise, and not a small amount of annoyance, Elijah was doing admirably well. In fact, considering he was trapped between Lyall, who was administering a sucking worthy of a Brockwell Park professional, and Brolly wielding the cane with his typical panache, the boy was a bloody marvel. The only outward sign of distress were the tears wetting his cheeks and quiet sobs as he pleaded to be allowed to spend.
Ballard tipped his chin at Brolley, who put the cane aside and picked up the finger of ginger. At the same time, Lyall rose and took Elijah in his arms, holding him immobile as Brolly reinserted the root. Last time it had taken five minutes before the boy had collapsed, unable to deal with the burn. This time it would stay for the duration and they would finally see what he was made of, and whether Brutus was wrong in naming him ram.
Elijah flinched as the ginger slid between his cheeks and pressed against his
hole. Again? He’d thought that maybe he’d be spared having to go
through this for a second time. By nature he neither sought pain, nor enjoyed
it. He could not conceive of being like William who was humping Brutus’
leg even with an arse burnished to the colour of a lover’s rose. For Elijah
pain was something to be endured, however he had learned that endurance early
and learned it well.
Steadying his breathing, he fought for self-control, refusing to be humiliated again. This time he knew what to expect, knew that the feeling of heat would soon become scalding and that every clench of his buttocks would make the sensation more acute. Lyall returning to his knees coincided perfectly with another cut from the cane and Elijah was plunged back into hell, each second lasting forever as pleasure and pain waged their private battle for dominance through his body.
The flutter-close of Elijah’s eyes witnessed a hitch in Brutus’
breath. The skin under his hand may have been William’s, but in his mind’s
eye it was Elijah he touched and covered with caresses designed to comfort and
arouse, to simultaneously imbue strength and fracture self control. His fingers
slid down the cleft of William’s burning buttocks searching out his well-oiled
hole. One, two and then three fingers plunged inside, thrusting in rhythmic
time with the cane striping Elijah’s skin. Then out again to tug and twist
at the chain or slap the mounds of flesh that pushed back into every blow.
Pleas for cessation and the cock painting wet motifs on his leg faded to insignificance as he lost himself in pattern and colour. Images of Elijah stretched between pillar and post, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he was penetrated. The same expression, but now backlit by the dying sun as he straddled Brutus beside the river, his wet hair throwing diamonds into the air as they rode out their completion.
William, shifting in a way that should be impossible, dragged Brutus back from his erotic dreams, and he blinked hazily at Cropper who was tugging the boy towards the edge of the couch.
Cropper glanced up, something approximating a smile curling his lip. “You are still with us, then,” he said. “I was beginning to think I was the only one in this room with an mind for the larger plan.”
Brutus frowned and scanned the room for understanding. All were lost behind their closed eyes, from Lyall and Brolly focused on performing in perfect synchronicity, through Elijah, who’s physical lines described the details of his internal battle, to William concealing everything from rage to unbearable lust behind his tightly squeezed lids.
“I – um…” Brutus shook his head. The sharp action broke the spell and crashed him back into his body; the desire he had experienced in his daydreams as a slowly building fire now a sudden inferno, more urgent than he ever thought possible. His cock stood painfully hard inside his tight fitting trousers and, with fumbling fingers, he loosed his braces, and ripped away the restrictive cloth.
Cropper now had William’s head over the edge of the couch and, despite the boy’s attempts to twist away, was preparing to make good use of his mouth. Brutus captured William’s ankles and lugged him around so he could gain access to his arse. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted – that would be Elijah in a similar position – but William would suffice to quench the fire.
He was going to die. If not from the cock down his throat making him fight for
every breath, then from the one inside him. The one plundering his body to extract
the last ounce of pleasure and turn it into a never ending ache that grabbed
his balls and squeezed them until all William wanted to do was scream in submission
and desperation.
Through Cropper’s legs he could see Elijah, his face screwed up in torment, and tears burned in William’s eyes. He should never have brought Elijah into this. His gentle friend deserved kindness, not this mockery of affection garbed in layers of sophistry.
Cropper’s thrusts increased in power and speed, and from the sounds above him, William guessed the two older boys were kissing, but he hardly heard them. Since he had allowed Cropper to command him yesterday, his head had been filled with the sounds Jones had made as the switch cut into his flesh. That and mama’s face filled with disappointment and disgust, as it had never been after his father’s death.
So for himself, William reflected, considering what he had done over the past few months, perhaps he deserved no more than this, to be pinned down used as a convenient orifice for others’ lust. But Elijah didn’t. And, as Cropper tensed and spilled in his throat, William determined that he would rescue him somehow.
The second Cropper released him and staggered backwards breathing heavily, William found himself heaved upright and pulled over to straddle Brutus’ lap. His hands, cramped and almost numb from the unnatural angle, were grabbed and he was guided back onto Brutus cock. He whimpered as it slid back inside him. His entire body hurt from the abuse it had taken this evening and it wasn’t over yet.
Fingers tweaked the chain that bound him, and he couldn’t help but thrust forwards and back, his thighs screaming their exhaustion after having been held high as Brutus fucked him the last time. But the sensations wouldn’t be denied. It was as though his body was acting without his permission, riding Brutus hard and thumping down on him to garner more stimulation than William’s mind could possibly deal with. Sweat poured down his chest and back, slicking his skin and making Brutus’ hands slip as the older boy clasped meaty fingers around his hips.
“That’s it, lad. Take me all the way.”
Brutus’ voice burned in William’s ear, drowning out Jones’ cries for the first time, and William sobbed, driving himself harder and faster. Perhaps this was the solution, perhaps this was the way to his salvation. Become nothing more than a whore, then at least he would have no thoughts, no regrets. Fingers fumbled in his crotch, pulling at the chain and strap and sending William into a near frenzy when the pressure around his cock was suddenly gone. Blood pounded through him, blinding and deafening him to anything but his completion.
“Oh, Lord. Please!”
Elijah’s desperate plea brought William back from his fantasy and his rhythm faltered as his eyes flew open and he saw his friend.
Elijah was openly crying now, humping Lyall’s face despite the swats Brolly was still landing on his body. Tears streamed down his face and his shoulders hunched as he clutched at Lyall’s hair. His head was thrown back and he was gasping and staring at the ceiling. He was obviously so close, and yet would not be able to spend without causing himself more pain.
William closed his eyes again, not wanting to witness any more, but the older boys were having none of it. William’s head was wrenched back and Cropper hissed in his ear, “If you don’t watch, I’ll tell Brolly to break out the bull whip.”
He opened them.
No regrets? William knew he was fooling only himself. He would always have this
to regret. Yet the agony/ecstasy on Elijah’s face spoke to him in a language
beyond words. William felt every blow of the cane as though it landed on his
own reddened skin, every touch of Lyall’s mouth around his own pulsing
erection. He could taste Elijah on his tongue and wanted to be stripping his
own cock just as Lyall was doing. He wanted to fuck Elijah, he wanted to slide
inside that body, just as Brolly was doing now. He wanted to hear Elijah scream
for him as he pounded into that hot tight channel. He wanted… He wanted…
Another blow landed on his thigh – Brutus’ way of telling him to get on with it – and William bit back a squeal. Another, and he was back to the previous pace, fucking himself as hard as possible if only to stop – or maybe encourage - Brutus’ smacks. His skin burned with every movement; even the light dusting of hairs on Brutus’ legs causing an inferno to rage through him.
The blows continued to rain down, now on the insides of his thighs drawing closer and closer to his balls. William arched, his numb fingers scrabbling at Brutus’ chest and willed Brutus to touch him back. It could be rough or gentle, he didn’t care; he just needed a touch on his cock in order to spend.
But Brutus refused to play. His fingers danced on the chain, tugging on it hard and sending pleasured agony soaring through William’s body. But just as it promised to be enough, they would vanish, and the slaps would begin again. It was pure torture and William never wanted it to end.
It was Elijah’s desolate cry that finally pushed William over the edge, digging tracks into Brutus’ chest with his nails. Denied for so long, the orgasm stole both breath and sight, and he hardly felt Brutus join him as his muscles clamped around the older boy’s cock.
By the time William registered what was happening, he was shaking, sweating as though he had run all afternoon and as weak as a day old kitten. Brutus pushed him and he fell, half on and half off the couch. Across the room, Elijah had collapsed, and was curled on his side, his legs up to his chest with his arms around them. William wanted to go to him, but when he tried to rise, he tumbled forwards, unable to balance.
“Hold up, lad,” Brutus said and the cuffs were released. Fresh tears sprung to William’s eyes as cramped muscles were finally permitted to move, and he crawled across the rug to lie spooned behind his friend.
Tomorrow was soon enough to worry about regrets.