Restrained, page 6
Matthew nodded and kept looking. He ran his hand along the leather corset draped over the desk chair, stroking the supple leather and fingering the stitching and the laces in a way that made Robert imagine what the boy would look like wearing that and nothing else.
When it seemed to Robert that Matthew had looked long enough, he walked up behind him and gave him a hard smack on his arse. Best to let him know what he’d be in for. “I’m going to get some oil from downstairs. If you’re staying, strip and stand in the center of the room, right on that rug. If you’ve changed your mind, I won’t judge. You know where the front door is, just down the stairs.”
Matthew swallowed and nodded. Robert knew he’d put three bottles of oil around the room as part of his preparations, but he fully expected his guest to run for the door as soon as he was out of the room. That was he expected it until he glanced down and noticed the young man’s trousers were tented out in front. Something about all this was arousing him. Robert gave him a second smack and watched Matthew gasp but also seem to strain towards his hand. He remembered all the swallowing. The boy was scared enough that his throat was dry, but still somehow aroused by it. Maybe Matthew wasn’t going to run.
Maybe I should, Robert thought. “There’s water by the bed there if you want to drink some before I get back.”
“Thank you,” Matthew whispered.
Robert nodded and walked out of the room without another word.
Chapter 6
***
MATTHEW HEARD SIR ROBERT’S FOOTSTEPS on the stairs. It sounded like he had gone down one floor and entered a room. Matthew went to the water pitcher and poured himself a glass. His mouth was dry from nerves. It wasn’t even from the idea of what Sir Robert would do to him. He looked down and noticed a bottle of oil had been tucked behind the pitcher. So Sir Robert hadn’t needed to leave the room; he was giving Matthew the chance to leave.
But Matthew had no intention of doing that. He’d meant it when he said he’d rather fall to pieces in front of Sir Robert. Something about him made Matthew feel safe. And if he were honest with himself, when Sir Robert had smacked him, it had hurt but it had also felt good. He wanted Sir Robert to do whatever it was he was going to do. The thought of the corset, the paddle, even the whip and the nipple clips being used by Sir Robert was making him hard. Harder than he’d ever been thinking of Percy, but then thinking of Sir Robert had always made him harder than just about anything else.
He looked at the whip and tried to imagine Lord Dixon using it on him, but that only made him nervous. Just like the idea of being naked in front of him. But being naked in front of Sir Robert, that was different. Matthew finished his water then started undressing, folding his clothes neatly on the chair in the corner. When he was completely nude, he went to the rug Sir Robert had indicated and waited.
The rug was in the middle of the room, putting him on display. How should he stand? Legs together or apart? He decided on slightly apart, giving a better view of everything. Facing the door or away? Away meant he wouldn’t have to stare into the hallway, wondering when Sir Robert was coming back. And what to do with his hands? Cover himself was his first impulse, but he knew that wasn’t right. He assumed at Dixon’s there would be men all around. He tried to imagine it, but all he could think of was Sir Robert downstairs, waiting to come back up and see if he had run.
Robert stood by the partly open sitting room door waiting to hear Matthew try to slip down the stairs and out the door. Either the boy was better at sneaking than he’d assumed, or he wasn’t going to run. Robert sighed. If the boy had run, it would have been so much easier, although not for Matthew. He picked up a random bottle from the sideboard in case Matthew noticed he hadn’t brought something with him and went back upstairs.
Robert entered the room and found Matthew standing just as he’d instructed, naked in the middle of the rug. He was beautiful. That was the first thing Robert thought. Slim, a hint of muscle in his arms and legs, a little soft in the middle and that made his arse round and soft and inviting.
Robert swallowed, then remembered Matthew doing that repeatedly and stopped. He left the bottle on the nearest table and approached the boy, making his heels click on the wood floor to sound intimidating. “Very nice. I see why Dixon wanted you.”
“Thank you?”
Robert noticed Matthew was fidgeting with his hands, but he wasn’t trying to cover himself. He realized the boy had no idea what to do with them. “Put your hands behind your head.”
Matthew obeyed immediately. He seemed to calm a little once he knew what to do.
Robert walked around him slowly, looking at every inch of his body. “You take some form of exercise. Riding?”
“No. Fencing, but I don’t have anyone to practice with, so it’s just against a dummy.”
“Maybe we can spar a bit sometime.”
“I’d like that. After....”
He’d almost forgotten. This wasn’t a liaison. Matthew would be spending a year with Dixon before they could do anything as simple and social as spar with foils. He forced himself to remember why he had Matthew here.
He ran his hand over Matthew’s chest, brushing his fingers through the light dusting of hair and stopping to pinch his left nipple. “Dixon will want that body coated with oil to show those muscles, but that would involve more cleaning up than we have time for.” But God, would he look beautiful like that. Robert kept moving his hands, first to tweak the right nipple, then down along Matthew’s sides, along his hips, then across his belly to meet in the thicker hair above his legs. He tangled his fingers there and tugged, then kept going down until he was cupping Matthew’s balls in his hand. He played with them until Matthew let out a soft moan.
Robert stopped at once. He was here to teach Matthew, not pleasure himself. He pulled his hands away. “To the bed. Stand at the foot. Put your hands up and spread your legs so I can attach the irons.”
He watched for signs of nervousness, but Matthew obeyed at once. Robert followed him to the bed and fixed the irons in place around Matthew’s wrists and ankles. He let Matthew stand bound in place for a moment to accustom himself to it.
When Matthew made no move to test the chains, Robert said, “Tug on them, move around. See what it feels like to be bound by them and to be held up by them.”
Matthew obeyed again, testing his very limited range of movement just as he’d been told. Robert watched for a moment, then went around to get the paddle, being sure Matthew could see him do it. He was a little surprised to see that chaining Matthew had made him hard. Robert turned his attention to choosing a paddle. It would not do to wonder what Matthew’s reaction would be if this were a casual meeting. If they had somehow gone home together from the exhibit without Dixon hanging over their heads. But without Dixon hanging over their heads, Matthew never would have gone with him. Robert needed to remember that.
He took the largest of the paddles, being certain Matthew could see it, and wandered behind him. “What did Dixon have you do?”
“He spanked me with his hand, sir.” Matthew’s words seemed to come easier now. Perhaps it wasn’t as humiliating the second time he recounted it. “Twenty blows. He had me count.”
“Then count what I do.” Robert brought the paddle down as hard as he would have on one of the lads at Rosamond’s. Matthew’s hips snapped forward, but they immediately moved back into position.
“One, sir.”
Robert struck again at once, then waited before the third blow. Matthew counted each and kept his hips in position for the next. Robert could tell Dixon would love the boy. Matthew’s arse had been made for spanking, round and firm and inviting. The pale skin turned a lovely pink as soon as it was hit then deepened to red as he went on. He made certain to vary where the blows landed, planting some on Matthew’s thighs which were muscled nicely from his fencing, and putting a few good blows where his arse met the tops of his thighs. Matthew didn’t hesitate as he counted twenty, then twenty-one. Apparently, he hadn’t expected Robert to do exactly what Dixon had done, or didn’t cared that he hadn’t.
At twenty-five, Robert stopped, mainly because his cock was too hard to let him concentrate on what he was doing. He undid the chains holding Matthew to the bedpost and gave him a good swat with his hand.
Matthew moan as he whispered, “Twenty-six.”
So obedient and so aroused. Robert swallowed. “On the bed, hands and knees, arse in the air.”
Matthew scrambled to obey.
Robert undid his trousers and released his cock. Matthew looked so willing, waiting on the bed, so lovely.
Robert ran his hand over the heated skin of Matthew’s arse. “Have you done this before?”
“No.” It was more of a moan than anything.
“What did you and your Percy do?”
“Hands. Mouths. Twice.” He didn’t seem able to say more than one word at a time.
Robert looked at the sweet boy on the bed, his hips held up and ready for him. He couldn’t have left this to Dixon. “If he asks, it was Percy, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
That “sir,” somehow that was what hit him hardest. How Dixon would love that. Robert grabbed the bottle of oil from the nightstand and slicked his fingers. He ran one down the cleft of Matthew arse, admiring the color his punishment had brought out. So very pretty.
Matthew’s hips rocked back, begging for more contact. Robert almost leaned over and kissed the reddened skin under his hand. Dixon would have such fun with him, would enjoy the way his skin colored and the little sounds he made.
Remembering what he was doing here stopped him. This was a lesson, nothing more. He should have had Matthew oil himself, practice for what was to come. He stopped admiring the lovely globes before him and pushed one finger into Matthew, feeling the tightness and the stretch of the muscles. Matthew made a small sound then pushed back onto Robert’s finger, eager for more.
Robert slid in a second finger, working him to stretch the muscles. “Not everyone at Dixon’s will think to do this. You’ll have to do it yourself whenever you think they’ll be in you. Keep yourself well-greased before a party.”
“Yes, sir,” Matthew whimpered.
Robert realized it was desire not fear of Dixon that prompted the sound and quickly added another finger and worked them inside. When Matthew seemed ready, he pulled his fingers out then slicked his own marble-hard cock quickly. He pressed the head into Matthew’s beautiful arse. Matthew gasped at the intrusion.
Robert knew he should pound in and give him a taste of what Dixon was like, but he held still, admiring how erotic Matthew looked all pink and sweating under him. He felt Matthew melt around him and pushed in farther, slowly, until his balls were pressed against the firm, pink skin.
Matthew moaned softly into the pillow and moved his hips, wanting more. Robert obliged, pounding his hips against Matthew while Matthew writhed under him. He heard Matthew gasp and realized he’d struck the spot inside of him he usually tried for at Rosamond’s but had intended to avoid in this lesson. Matthew had sounded so beautiful when he’d gasped. Robert kept his hips at that angle and thrust against it, hearing Matthew gasping and moaning beneath him. It took a few moments for him to realize there were words in the gasps.
One word. “Robert.”
It was enough to make him come hard as he buried himself deep in the boy. Matthew’s back arched, and he could see the ropes of semen spill out of Matthew’s cock and onto the sheets beneath him.
There were a great many things Robert found himself wanting to do at that moment, but he ignored the feelings and pulled out of Matthew, watching his spend drip down Matthew’s body. He stepped back and looked at the young man lying on the bed, sated and exhausted. Robert wanted to climb in beside him, gather him in his arms, and tell him everything would be all right. But that was completely unlike him, and it wouldn’t be all right. He stopped himself from filling the washbasin and bringing it to the bed. The boy had to get used to the feeling of semen drying on his skin; he may as well start now.
“I’m not doing you any favors. If I were to show you what it will really be like, I’d wait for the servants to be back and have every one of them in you. At the very least, I should shove that poker up your arse and let you feel how it will be to be taken by his guests one after the other.” And he should, but he couldn’t. “Get up and dress.”
Matthew pushed himself off the bed and started to gather his clothes. “Thank you, sir. I can’t thank you enough for this.”
Robert sighed and tried to think of any advice he could give. “Don’t tell Dixon you are no longer inexperienced. He’ll simply be harder on you. He’ll tell you that you can bring a few things with you, but don’t bother. You won’t have a second of privacy, not for the most intimate of things. Anytime you are not with him or his guests, he’ll let the servants play with you. He hires them for how amusing he think they’ll be with his toys. Wear clothes you don’t care about as you won’t see them again. Prepare yourself to be naked the entire time. Baths, if you get them, will be few and far between, so sweat and semen will be what you wear most of the time. You will be sore, not just from the whip and the paddle, but from the physical exertion of fucking for hours a day. Snatch sleep when you can, no matter how undignified the position. Food will be plentiful but most likely disgusting. Eat whatever slop is put in front of you. You’ll need to keep up your strength. Don’t expect silverware. I should have let you practice lapping stew from a bowl with your hands tied.” He could see the boy was concentrating on what he said, trying to remember it even as he became paler with every word while he buttoned his clothes.
When Robert stopped speaking, Matthew hurried forward, still only half dressed with his shirt hanging open at the collar showing a fair bit of his smooth chest and his shoulder, and grabbed Robert’s hands. He bowed over them and pressed his forehead to Robert’s knuckles. “Thank you, truly. When this is over, if there is anything I can do for you...”
Robert stared at the soft hair falling over his hand, knowing it would soon be greasy with sweat and matted with cum from men he didn’t know. “Don’t thank me.”
“If I could ask one more favor.”
Robert nodded then realized the boy was still looking down. How fun Dixon would find him, modest and sweet, ripe for corrupting. “Yes?”
“Would you drive me to the rendezvous point? I couldn’t bear to ask the servants, and Father...”
Robert sighed. “Yes. Where are you to meet him?”
“At a posting house on the North Road.”
“The Four Bells? I know it. It’s a bit of a drive. I’ll bring my curricle around to your house at five in the morning on the last of the. Will that do?”
“Thank you so much.”
Robert was beginning to feel he’d done nothing to warrant such gratitude, particularly considering how much he liked it when Matthew peered at him with that trusting look in his eyes. He righted his clothes and watched Matthew finish dressing. He seemed to be getting along well enough on his own without a valet, so Robert had no reason to offer his assistance. No need to, he corrected himself.
He went to the nightstand and poured Matthew a glass of water, which he left where Matthew could see it. “Would you like something stronger?”
“No, thank you. I should probably go home. Your staff will return and...”
“Of course. I’ll summon a hack for you.” He didn’t wait to see if Matthew protested.
By the time a hack had been found, Matthew was in the entryway, waiting. He looked perfectly presentable, not as though he had just spent and afternoon engaged in erotic pursuits, but Robert couldn’t help adjusting the boy’s cravat a bit and smoothing down his collars.
“Thank you,” Matthew murmured.
“I’ll see you at the end of the month then. I’ve made the trip before, so I’ll make the necessary arrangements for lodgings.”
Matthew nodded and hurried to the door. Eager to be away, Robert thought as he went to get himself the drink he’d offered Matthew, although the part of him that had stopped to smooth down the collars that were already perfectly presentable wondered if it hadn’t looked more like barely concealed disappointment. Wishful thinking, he told himself and went to look for the drink.
{--*--}
The morning after his meeting with Sir Robert, Matthew woke feeling better than he had since the visit to Dixon’s brothel. He’d had no dreams as he slept, which was a relief in a way, no terrors about what might happen at Dixon’s, and a disappointment as he’d been hoping to dream of Sir Robert. But Sir Robert had answered all his questions without him even having to ask, so there had been nothing unknown to obsess over in his sleep he supposed.
Matthew went down to breakfast and forced himself to sit down normally in the chair, even though his bottom still ached from Sir Robert’s punishments the day before. He should have been—he wasn’t certain what, but the pain of sitting shouldn’t have caused the little thrill to go down his spine and straight to his groin. If it had been possible, he would have sent Sir Robert a short note and hoped for a reply asking him to return for more of the same. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Sir Robert standing there at the edge of the bed, the paddle in his hand, his eyes roaming over Matthew’s body as if he found it appealing, his hands tracing patterns across Matthew’s chest, then stepping behind him and the delicious moment of anticipation and dread as he waited for the first blow to fall.
Matthew yanked his mind away from that thought. Not at the breakfast table. Not where Father could see. Although why that should matter, Matthew realized, was beyond him. Father was the one sending him to Lord Dixon. He was the one who had proposed sending Matthew out to muck stalls to prepare him for the position he would fill. Matthew had simply found his own way to prepare. And it had prepared him, at least a little. Not only the advice Sir Robert had given him, but he now knew he could take what Lord Dixon would do to him. He was aroused by the pain, by being bound, even by being naked in a room with a fully clothed man had been thrilling. Certainly, a fair bit of the thrill had been knowing it was Sir Robert, but at least he knew he wouldn’t disgrace himself at once. That thought calmed his inflamed blood. Lord Dixon would find plenty of ways to see that he was disgraced. Of that, Matthew was certain.
