Scape Goat

I grabbed the boy's collar and yanked him inside.

"Pleeessir!Master Thomas said..."

"Shut up boy!Master Thomas can go stuff himself.I need you in here."

As it happens, Master Thomas had just driven off.We'd had one of our typical rows.Only this was a bit more typical than usual.He'd been making decisions behind my back.We were meant to be business partners, for God's sake.But somehow 17 years of living together, the first three as lovers, had clouded that fact.He still thought he knew better than me. And I was sick of it.

I stared at the boy.He was shaking.I'd not seem him before.He must have been new.We've got a bunch of these young colts working the gardens and looking after the animals.Tom takes care of that part of the estate. I don't usually give it much thought, but a good looking boy like this would've caught my eye sooner or later.He must've come with the new stock Tom had bought the week before.He's got a good eye at an auction, and he's a tough Master.This boy was shitting bricks.

"Master Thomas isn't here," I said."I'm borrowing you for the afternoon. Are you new?"

"Sir, yessir!eight days, Sir."

"How old?"

"Sir, please, eighteen, just Sir, I think Sir."

He mumbled so much I thought he might have been foreign.His arms and shoulders looked quite dusky against the white of his tunic.But maybe that was just because he lived outdoors most of the time.

"You're my property as well, you know.Not just Master Thomas's."

"Yes, Master Sir, this boy belongs...."

"Stop mumbling.You're getting on my nerves.Get rid of that tunic."

I watched him wind the cord from around his waist and pull the linen garment up over his head.It was the standard covering we put on all our slaves.We've never believed in having them run around naked all the time. Apart from being too distracting, it would rob us of that special joy -- watching them strip.

The clean white linen slid across his back, revealing his beautifully rounded buttocks.As smooth as two pebbles.No marks.Untouched treasures for me to ransack.

My blood was still boiling from Tom's last words to me before he stormed out.He always managed to make me feel small.I knew it would all blow over in time, but I needed to focus my frustration.Far better to beat the shit out of this slave boy than allow the anger to fester.

He was standing there without a stitch, now, leaning forwards slightly with a kind of nervous tension that emphasised the shapeliness of his thighs.A light body but tight with firm, clear muscles etched into his torso -- just the type to make me horny.And a fat cock too, though his testicles were all screwed up in a bunch.I'd see to that.His skin was clean and glowing with not a hair anywhere to be seen, apart from the tangled mop on top.

"Fucking shithead!" I shouted and slapped him across the top of the head. He probably thought I was referring to him, but of course I was thinking of Tom.He staggered then flopped down onto his knees.

"pleessir, sorry, Sir, this boy..."

"Oh, get up you cretin!I don't want to listen to your snivelling.Follow me -- and don't give me any lip, you understand."

My den was a tip.I'd been skulking there all morning.The floor was littered with magazines and CDs, the TV was flickering away with the sound turned off, and there was a stench of stale milk where I'd flung a carton at the wall just after Tom had slammed the front door.I cleared a space for the boy to stand and threw myself into my easy chair.

I stared at him for about five minutes, which made him even more nervous. He seemed to find it hard to stand absolutely still.I got him to turn around several times.He had a nice way of moving.Beautiful physique. Unblemished.I wondered if Tom had designs on him other than having him sweep up the backyard and feed the animals.Well bad luck, Tom, I was going to have first pickings.

"What you worried about boy?Don't you trust me?"

"yessir, this boy your property Sir.he knows that...that..."

"Knows what?What are you rabbitting on about?"

"tha...tha...tha..."

"Oh for Chrissake stop stuttering.See that big leather paddle on the wall behind you.Fetch it."

He looked round and I could hear him wince when he saw my collection of paddles, whips and canes.Gingerly he unhooked the paddle and brought it to me.

"pleessir," he mumbled, as once again he fell onto his knees in front of me, "pleessir don't punish me Sir, this boy's so sorry...."

He was certainly getting me excited with all this begging and scraping.I stroked his hair.

"I'm not going to punish you boy.You haven't done anything wrong.At least I don't think you have.You haven't been a bad boy, have you?"

"no Sir.been good, Sir."

"Why would I want to punish you, then?"

"dunno Sir."

"Well then, I'm not going to punish you, am I?"

"no Sir.thank you Sir."

"But I am going to give you a good hiding, all the same."

"S-s-sir?" he whispered faintly.

"I'm going to give you a good hiding, because -- well because I need to. You understand that, boy, don't you?

He had to think long and hard about that one.But eventually he blurted out, not very convincingly, "yessir."

"Good.Now that's understood I want you to get up.Raise your arms as high as you can.Stretch them up, that's it, and stand firm while I warm myself up on this silky smooth arse of yours."

I spent a few moments running my hands across his taught body.Some slaves have a natural warmth that is a joy to touch.This boy was no exception. I could feel the pent up energy flickering under my fingers as they coasted over his chest and stomach.I was standing behind him and when I pressed the palm of my hand flat across his.......

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