Rough Beast 2
A soft swish of clothes was the only sign that the masters were already present. Questions were never asked; it was assumed that the trainers had done a perfect job, so the only procedure applied was this visualization session. If a master liked what he saw, he took. That was all.
He could tell by the sound of steps that some of the young men around him were already being taken away. Finally, someone stopped next to him. A gloved hand touched his chest slowly, examining him. Cory could not breathe. It was finally there, the moment when he was going to be taken away, and condemned forever to serve as an appliance in some master’s home.
The hand continued, steadily, its explorations. It was now touching the small of his back, just under his clasped hands, then it suddenly descended on his buttocks, squeezing one hard. He knew he should have stood still. But, despite his better judgment, he jolted and snapped his head up, looking straight at the manhandling him like he was nothing but a toy. If the man was surprised, he didn’t show it. Cory stared into a pair of cold grey eyes for a couple of long seconds, before he was grabbed by strong hands to be taken away.
He could hear the trainer’s low voice apologizing, like through a haze. But then he saw the owner of those steel eyes making a small gesture, and he was let go. He breathed heavily through his mouth. He’d been close to being rejected; he’d missed his chance. Desperately, he searched for the grey eyes again. He opened his mouth to say something, to yell, or do something outrageous, but the gloved hand covered it swiftly, and a short change of glances determined him to keep it shut. He nodded imperceptibly, and the hand moved, caressing his cheek briefly.
The custom demanded that the servant was going to be ‘packed’ by the trainers and sent to the master’s house. So Cory was surprised to see himself pushed to move behind his new master, completely naked. He didn’t say anything. After all, shame was not something servants knew or understood. So he started treading lightly behind the man now owning him. His soles felt the ground he was stepping on as if was trying to bind him, but he forced his feet to move, and follow his fate.
Now he was standing in front of his new master who was comfortably seated on a lavish chair, his hands crossed in his lap, with what looked like an amused look on his face. Cory could not help staring. The man was handsome, much more beautiful than any other he had seen in his short life. He had short brown hair, neatly combed over his head, and high cheekbones, lovingly balanced by sensual lips. The gray eyes no longer looked so cold. They even had a certain warmth in them.
“So, am I passing the test?” a deep, baritone worthy voice asked, and Cory blushed deeply. Being fair skinned, with blond hair and light blue eyes, his embarrassment was easy to read.
“I … I don’t really understand the question, master.”
“Oh, but I think you do. Cory, why did you raise your eyes? You know the punishment for it.”
Cory’s forehead became all wrinkles.
“Do not over think it. Just tell me.”
“I … master touched me.”
He looked with frightened eyes at the man on the chair. Even seated, he looked so tall, compared to Cory’s smaller frame. Was the man wanting to learn the truth?Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org
“And? Am I not allowed to touch you?” The man seemed amused.
Cory shook his head. “Forgive me, master. I have no idea what got into me.”
He fell to his knees, letting his head touched the man’s shoes in obedience.
“I didn’t tell you that you could kneel,” the man’s voice became thicker.
Cory got up, trembling. He felt fear, pure and deep, turning his blood into ice. He knew what the trainers could do to him. What a master could do with a worthless servant, he didn’t.
“Speak. Loud and clearly. Don’t even think about lying.”
“I wanted … not to be touched. I wanted to be free,” he said with difficulty, swaying slightly on his feet.
Laughter made him stop. He looked at the man, not sure if he could believe his ears. His new master was laughing so hard, it made the chair creak. In the end, the laughter subdued. “Well, Cory, you certainly are entertaining. I somehow felt you would be different. So, to make things clear, come closer.”
Cory moved, although his feet felt like lead. He noticed how the man’s hands were still in his black leather gloves, so tight that he could see the outlines of the knuckles through the material. Like a magician trying to warm up before a trick, the hands stretched, flexing long, elegant fingers.
“Let’s see,” the voice grew deeper, laced with promises. Cory was pulled closer by the gloved hands firmly grabbing his buttocks. He gasped. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on letting his mind go blank, as his master started kneading his buttocks, parting them and getting closer and closer to his rear entrance. He felt his organ twitching; he knew he was expected to behave like a sexless being. Soon, his new master would learn the truth and he would be shamed, sent back to training or worse.
“Stop,” he begged. “Master, please.”