0 comments/ 42531 views/ 2 favorites The Stableboy By: kiss_me_ware_i_pee Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there was a very naughty stable boy who enjoyed peeking through the windows at his masters daughter while she bathed. The master's daughter was a very pretty young girl, nubile and seemingly unaware of her erotic lure to the stable boy. She was in the bath one evening...after a long day's ride, unaware of the bad stable boy watching her from the window. She was enjoying the hot steamy water, and how it eased the aching of her young body from the day's abuse. As she washed each breast she'd watch the water dribble from the nipple and plop back into the tub. Suddenly she heard a stirring at the window, she was so surprised she jumped out of the tub and ran to see who it was. By the time she got to the window she only saw the silhouette of a young man running around the side of the house. She did see a shirt on the ground at the bottom of the window, so, wrapping herself in a bath sheet, she climbed out the window, grabbed the shirt and headed around the corner of the house she had seen the young man flee towards. As she rounded the house, she knew whom ever it was had to have hidden in the stables as there was nowhere else to go. She ran to the stables and entered quietly. Walking slowly through the stables so as not to disturb the horses she checked each stall for the young man, anxious to know who had been illicitly watching her whilst she bathed. As she drew towards the far end of the stable, she knew they must be hiding in the stable boy quarters. Quietly, she crept to the door and drew it open. To her surprise there was Michael, the head stable boy, shirtless, furiously trying to stuff his member back into his pants. Well the young miss turned quite pink and asked him what he had thought to accomplish by peeking at her through the window of her bath chamber. Stuttering he replied, "Why I'm very sorry Miss, I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't resist." The young miss knowing that Michael would lose his job if she told her father, told the stable boy that he must come up with his own punishment for the sinful deed he had done. The stable boy knew that he'd lose his home, his job, and would have no hope for being taken in elsewhere if it were known why he was put out. For just these reasons, he suggested a flogging by the miss herself so as to keep it a secret for as long as possible so he could soon secure other employment. The young miss agreed, as she didn't want to see him out in the cold with nowhere to call home. She told the stable boy to go get one of the many horse whips from the tack room and that she'd meet him in the empty stall near the tack room momentarily. Michael, being the ever obeying servant strode quickly to the tack room to get the requested whip, then went to the assigned stall to await his mistress. The young miss called to him to remove his shirt and loosen his pants in anticipation of the punishment at hand, and of course, he complied. Before he knew what was happening, he was pushed hard against the side of the stall. First one hand then the other was tied to the beams in the stall. Before he could react he was trussed up like a Christmas goose, by the slip of girl he called "Miss". He felt leather against his back and realized she had on the smithies leather apron..... "Now you'll feel the crack of my whip Michael, and we'll see how well you fare.", she whispered in his ear. His head was reeling...was this the same miss that had been innocently bathing earlier? CRACK!! Michael's back stung with the first of the mistress' blows, he had never even heard the whistle of the whip. He was quite surprised at the strength with which she wielded the whip. HISS!! CRACK!! Before he could feel the sting of the first she had swiftly landed the second.... "How many of those do you think you deserve Michael?" asked the mistress. His mind was flying... She hadn't actually broken his skin yet but he knew if she continued to use such force he'd soon fold. Suddenly before he knew what was happening the mistress had cut loose the ties to his pants....they slowly slid to the floor of the stall. His head was reeling...watching the mistress was one thing, but being caught naked in a stall of the stables with her was quite another. "Please Mistress, if you please, may I adjust my pants?" The young miss laughed throatily at this question, "I think not Michael, the fun is just beginning." Suddenly Michael felt the whip that had just bit into his flesh being dragged over his stinging back, and buttocks. He could hear the mistress fumbling with something behind him and he became worried the next lash would be falling across his back soon. To his shock the smithies apron was wrapped around his head and secured there with a leather thong across his mouth and eyes. It was with terror that he realized now not only would he be found naked with the mistress, but she was now naked also. All thoughts of hopefully finding another home or job were beyond him. "Now you'll need to think of me bathing again Michael, would you like that?" asked the mistress. He nodded his head vehemently, excitedly wondering what the mistress was talking about. Terror and sexual excitement were causing his member to rise embarrassingly high, it was with baited breath that he awaited the next fall of the whip. CRACK!! As the whip slashed across his back, his hard cock was imprisoned between his own body and the wall of the stall covered with a horse blanket. Michael suddenly realized he was enjoying this torment, with shame, and was glad the mistress wasn't aware of it. CRACK!! Another stroke of the whip and his cock was once again rubbing up against the blanket covered wall again. And the naked mistress was rubbing up against his back and ass...Oh what sweet torment this was. "Have you been naughty Michael?" asked the mistress. Michael could only nod his head and hope for more. Suddenly to his surprise he felt the mistress' hand on his ass. There was something warm and slippery sliding down his ass, then something was pushed steadily and firmly at the opening hidden there. He began to thrash and tried to scream as he realized she was trying to insert something into his ass...To no avail, the mistress had impaled him with a small ladies whip. The pain of entry began to subside and he could feel the short leather tails brushing against his ass cheeks and upper thighs as he moved to try and dislodge this unwanted visitor. CRACK!! And once again he was up against the wall, he quickly realized his cock was even bigger than before, how could this be?! How could he still be aroused with a whip in his ass? CRACK!! Now the mistress was rubbing herself with what smelled to him like tallow and rubbing herself on his back. She had the whip in his as firmly between her thighs and was rubbing her nipples across the welts she had raised on his back. She was very slick from the tallow and Michael was very excited, with the heat of friction from his cock rubbing on the horse blanket, and the heat of the welts on his back combined with the heat of his mistress and the tallow rubbing all over him he thought he would soon burst. Suddenly the mistress tightened her grip with her thighs upon the ladies whip in his ass and began to pump him as the steed pumps the mare. She wrapped her arms around his body and began to fondle his nipples and quietly whispered......"The dance has just begun...my pet." With those words all thoughts flew from Michael's head.....He lost himself in the feelings this "innocent" mistress was creating inside him. She nudged his legs apart and firmly planted hers in between to get a better stance. While rubbing and pinching his nipples she continued her assault upon his mangina with the ladies whip, fucking him as he so desired to fuck her. The grease of the tallow made the ladies whip fly in and out of his ass smoothly as would her juices for him. His cock was rubbing furiously between his sweaty stomach and the fuzzy blanket covered wall, it felt as though he imagined the cleft of her womanhood would feel upon his cock. She was softly nipping at the welts upon his back, fucking him harder and faster, pinching one nipple when suddenly he felt more of the oily tallow being poured down his belly over his rigid shaft... The fuzzy blankey soon molded itself around the contours of his throbbing manhood, warming with the heat of his body and her hand pressing the blanket around his heaving cock. It was like a dance, everything in one fluid motion....the whip in his ass as she fucked him with her thighs, her teeth upon his stinging back, her nails pinching his nipple and her other hand milking his greasy blanket wrapped cock. The sensations were overloading him, his eyes covered, mouth gagged, gasping for breath, he knew he wanted to come....She began to fuck him harder and harder ruthlessly pounding the ladies whip into his virgin ass, biting his back, driving his cock and her hand repeatedly into the wall with each thrust of her thighs. He was going to blow, he could feel his excitement building in his balls, his seed about to spill....he was writhing in agonizing pleasure, all of his body on fire for her, for what she was doing, for the shame in the pleasure he was taking from being fucked like a woman. The whip in his ass suddenly drove deeper than ever before, touching off something deep within him, he reared back his head and screamed in pleasure...he screamed in pain, he screamed in torment....the cum exploding from his balls....shooting over his belly and the blanket like a fount exploding from the ice in the spring. Suddenly she reached down and grabbed his balls, and thrust so deeply he thought the whip would come out his belly. Again the cum burst from deep within him, as she milked him dry.....she continued to pump the whip in his ass...little thrusts while deep inside him, her thighs moving left and right, twirling the whip in little circles, hitting his spot over and over, making the orgasm go on and on and on and on.....til he started to sag against his bonds.... Just as he thought it was over, he felt her hand leave his balls, her skin pull away from his back, a cool breeze across the welts from the whip and her teeth. Michael straightened, arching his back, trying to feel with some part of him where she had gone. He didn't have long to wonder when he felt her peeling the tallow and cum laden blanket from his softening cock. Filled with shame he tried to flatten himself to the wall so she wouldn't see his flagging manhood in such a state...to no avail. She wedged herself between him and the blanketed wall, to his embarrassment... And took his cock in her mouth...taking all of his cock in her mouth. Mistress started rubbing his balls and swirling her tongue around the head of his cock while it grew back to it's proud size and strength in her mouth. While her other hand reached around between his legs and began to wiggle the ladies whip still impaled in his ass. Michael's mind was flying now....the pleasure he had felt earlier was nothing compared to this....Her tongue was rolling all over his cock, licking, sucking, nibbling, while she massaged his balls and began working the whip in and out of his ass...over and over... Her head was flying up and down his shaft, her mouth was pulling at his cock, milking it like her hand had milked his load from him moments before, his cock was twice....three times the size it had been, as the whip went deeper and deeper into his ass, pumping, hitting the place deep inside him that set him on fire. Suddenly the whip stopped and the mouth became more insistent pulling at his cock, sucking him deep within her throat..pounding down to his root, teeth dragging across the cock, tongue wrapping around it, heat from her mouth and the saliva of her making the way slick.... BANG, the whip driven into him like a stallion driving into a mare.....deep and long, while his cock was buried deep within her mouth....he was exploding, draining, spiraling down into the deepest dark he had ever known....cumming, like his life's blood was being drained from him...the agony of sweet torment flowing through and out of him into her mouth.....while she sucked and pumped, and rubbed him.....taking it all....til there was no more to give... She had untied his hands, he was slumped on the floor. His head spinning, his body aching from abuse he had never dreamt of suffering, enjoying, reveling in. He could hear her coming down through the stalls towards where he lay, with the apron still tied around his head....he could smell her, a smell he'd never forget, of heather and lavender mixed with his own sex....slowly she bent over him and said "The next time you want to see me in my bath, you'll knock and enter." In a whisper he replied "Yes, Mistress." She grabbed him by his hair, "Mistress what Michael?"... "Mistress Gina" he replied... The Stableboy This is one of a series of stories that revolve around the hand-rolled cigar and the men who use them, smoke them and make them, and it was inspired by the following paragraph- During the same period, cigar smoking had become so popular among gentlemen in Britain and France that European trains introduced smoking cars to accommodate them, and hotels and clubs boasted smoking rooms. The after-dinner cigar, accompanied by glasses of port or brandy, also became a tradition. This ritual was given an added boost by the fact that the Prince of Wales, the future Edward VII and a leader of fashion, was a devotee, much to the annoyance of his mother, Queen Victoria, who disliked smoking. Quote from "The History of Cigars."i * * * Lady Evangeline, like Queen Victoria, disliked smoking. Unfortunately her husband, Lord Waverly, had been introduced to the custom of an after-dinner cigar while he was attending the sittings of the House of Lords in the year 1886. That year the debate over the Home Rule Bill for Ireland had been strenuous work, and shared discussion and relaxation with his fellow Peers over a glass of vintage port and a fine cigar after a hard day of political debate had been important. So, upon returning to the family seat, he had brought home with him his new habit-and a fine collection of cigars. "I will not have that filthy habit in this house, Dorley," Lade Evangeline had said to her husband on the very first evening of his return. When after dinner Lord Waverly had settled back in his favourite chair and lit up. "The furnishings and I simply won't tolerate it," she added, gliding elegantly over and removing the cigar from his mouth, and then just as gracefully tossing it onto the fire, which burned merrily in the grate of the small retiring room they used in the evenings. "But, bu . . .bu. . . ," Dorley stammered. "But the Prince of Wales-Bertie-smokes several a day, my dear. In the club it's a ritual; a gentlemen just has to smoke at least one cigar a day to be seen as worth knowing nowadays." "If you must smoke, Dorley, well then you must find some place to pursue this habit so that the . . . smoke does not pollute the house." Because Lady Evangeline was a woman of strong will and a sharp tongue, Dorley replied, "Yes, Dear. As it's a pleasant evening, I think I'll take a walk about the grounds then." And he pulled himself up out of his comfortable chair, took a fresh cigar from the box and some vespas, and took himself into the gardens. Fortunately for Dorley, it was late summer at the time and the walk was most agreeable. But unfortunately, within a few weeks, the weather was turning cool, and by the time he was ready to indulge his after-dinner habit, it was becoming a bit too cold and dark to be roaming the grounds. Lord Waverly pondered this briefly before turning his steps to the fine stable building that stood behind the main house, and where quite a few fine horses were kept in great comfort. He quickly discovered that the stable was the warmest place he could go to to smoke, so he took to taking his nightly cigar there and inspecting the fine thoroughbreds he kept while he savoured the smoke of his equally fine cigar. The stable boys had a small cast iron stove that heated one end of the stable and that they sat about in their breaks. And as it got colder, his lordship often spent some time sitting by it, always alone, as was proper, and enjoying the gentle snuffling and blowing of the horse, the smell of healthy horseflesh, and the warmth, as he puffed on his cigar. It was on such a night, but one when he had wandered into the stable later than usual, and unobserved, when he discovered Lionel's secret. It was actually no secret to many in Dorley's household and even Lady Evangeline had heard the maids discussing it. But Lord Waverly was a man of little experience, or interest, in sexual matters having seen immeasurably more nakedness in the British museums collection of Greek marbles than he ever had in real life. Even Lady Evangeline's body remained largely a mystery to him. It was common knowledge that his lordship was generally more concerned with matters of fashion and style and business than with estate gossip. Lady Evangeline also disapproved of gossip and may have heard about Lionel but would never have mentioned such a matter to her husband. But on this night as Dorley sat puffing, leaning back in a comfortable chair that had appeared by the small stove on his second visit there, he heard voices and rustling in one of the further stalls and went to investigate-more from having nothing else to do than any great curiosity. And then he discovered it. One of the stable boys was standing behind a young woman bending over with her skirts pulled up about her head and her drawers at her ankles, revealing her plump pink bottom and legs. And gliding in and out of her was Lionel's secret. Not that Dorley at that time knew it was Lionel's, though he assumed he was one of his stable boys. Lord Waverly gaped at what the young man had, his cigar forgotten and burning to ash as he watched Lionel's huge dick pumping the young woman. The young woman's moans increased in frequency and pitch and became high squeals, and then she let out a big sigh. Lionel's hips beat faster against her backside until he pulled out, and Dorley's jaw dropped even lower as he saw Lionel in his full glory and the stable lad shot his seed in a long trail across the young woman's bottom and up to the roof. Yes, Lionel had a whopper. Even if Lord Waverly had heard the rumours his wife, Lady Evangeline, had heard, he would still have been amazed. The young woman pushed down her skirts and turned and Lionel squeezed a breast as they kissed long and deep. Then the young woman pulled up her drawers and retied them while Lionel pulled up his woollen trousers and rebuttoned the fly and slipped his braces over his shoulders. Lionel straightened her maid's cap for her and she asked him, "When can we meet again?" Dorley suddenly remembered the burning cigar in his hand and tiptoed guiltily back to the small stove and sat down as if he had been there all the time. But his mind wasn't with it. Even the fine cigar couldn't distract him from the memory of what he had just seen, and he had to unbutton his own fly and reach in-after checking to see no one was watching-and pull out his own engorging dick and fist it to completion. That night he entered Lady Evangeline's bed and gave her a merry humping, such as he hadn't done for months, if not years. The next night Dorley was nervous as he left the house and headed for the stables. There was a part of him that wanted to see what Lionel had and what he did with it again, and a part that strongly dissaproved. He had spoken to his head groom, Mr Peterson, casually about the stable staff and after listening to Peterson tell him what trouble he was having deciding who to promote to be his assistant groom, since the previous one had just died of typhoid fever, Dorley discovered there were six stable lads and now had a list of names on a piece of paper in his pocket. He had even spent part of the day trying to surreptitiously determine which stable boy he had watched the previous night. But without success. Now he approached his stables full of nervous excitement and was more interested in listening for voices and rustlings noises the horses didn't make, than in savouring his fine hand-rolled Cuban cigar. He was smoking one of five that had arrived just that day from the Duke of Westerbrook. They had been sent him as a gift, along with a note announcing that Westerbrook would like the pleasure of visiting Lord Waverly shortly. Dorley had sent an immediate invitation and was intrigued as to what had prompted the famous man's urge to visit him, as Westerbrook was one of the most fashionable men in London, a familiar of the Prince of Wales, and a great patron of the arts. All in all Dorley had far too many things on his mind and sat on long after his cigar had burnt to ash and the butt end had been consigned to the small cast iron stove he sat near. But nothing happened that night. The next night it happened again; he heard murmurs and rustlings not made by any horse, and he cautiously approached the noises. The sound of human voices moaning making him tremble. They were in a more distant stall this time, and it took Dorley some time to locate them in the shadows of the stable, away from the lamp hanging by the stove. In the dim light Dorley at first thought he was watching a rerun of the previous nights copulating, the huge penis of the stable body seemingly pumping in and out from between the pale round cheeks of a young woman's firm bottom. But when they were done and Lionel's seed had been spouted across the bent over body before him and his partner stood up, Dorley felt himself blush from head to toe. Because it was only then, when they stood up and began pulling their trousers up that he realised he had been watching two young men at it. They both buttoned up their heavy workman's trousers and slipped their braces back over their shoulders, then kissed, and Lionel's companion asked "When can we meet again?" Dorley gulped at hearing the question and fled back to the safety of his comfortable chair and the warm stove. But as had happened the previous time he had watched Lionel, he had to release his throbbing pole and gain release from the pressure built up inside him. Dorley had been an only son and kept at home all his life, where he had been raised by a nanny and taught by two firm, but fair tutors. He knew he was not particularly intelligent and had led a sheltered youth. He had rarely seen another man's penis flaccid, and before seeing Lionel's monster had never seen one fully erect. And now he had seen that one of his stable boys had an erection such as he had never imagined could exist Dorley's mind was in a whirl. That night he again gave his wife, Lady Evangeline, a vigorous humping, and she responded unusually vocally. The next day he discovered that the stable boy with the mammoth dick was Lionel. But after two more evening visits to the barn, Dorley had seen no more of Lionel and his fucking activities. Then Lord Westerbrook arrived, and there was a large dinner for all the ladies and gentlemen of the neighbourhood. But so that Lady Evangeline wouldn't be forced to tolerate smoking in her house, Dorley took his honoured guest and the other smoking gentlemen out to the stables. There they inspected the fine thoroughbreds Dorley kept before sitting about the small stove on folding chairs set up there for the occasion while puffing on their cigars, drinking brandy and port brought across from the house, and discussing business and politics. Dorley beamed happily as Lord Westerbrook told him he had been impressed by the horseflesh and nodded approvingly. The following afternoon Lord Westerbrook took himself off for an after-lunch cigar. Dorley considered joining him, but Lady Evangeline gave him such a look of disapproval that he made an excuse. Lord Westerbrook's generous assurance he was happy to take a stroll alone for an hour or two, to walk off the delightful lunch and enjoy his smoke was a great relief to Dorley. Lord Waverly instead went to visit his estate manger and discuss the repair of some tenant's cottages damaged in a recent storm. The next day Lady Evangeline was called away to visit her sister who had suddenly taken ill. Consequently, the two gentlemen were left to their own devices. Westerbrook hurried out immediately after lunch, "Time to go to the stables to enjoy my cigar, old man. What, ho," he shot at Dorley. After dithering for a few minutes, Dorley decided to join him and took a cigar from the box and headed to the stables. But when he arrived at the stove, there was no one in sight, so he left his unlit cigar on the barrel that served the stable lads as a table, and wandered between the stalls and patted the noses of the horses he knew. Near the end of the row, though, he stopped; he had heard noises, but more-he could see two figures, and he scuttled back a few steps into the shadows. But he didn't leave; instead, he stood there mesmerised. Inside the far stall he saw a man and with a shock he realised that it was Westerbrook. Yes, his lordship was standing naked, a pale thin body with a heavy coating of dark hair running up his torso, and he was removing Lionel's trousers in a very odd way. Westerbrook's hand had been at the buttons but then he was on his knees before the stable lad, slowly unbuttoning his fly still, but also nuzzling it as Lionel stood staring down at him and played a hand gingerly in his lordship's hair. Once enough buttons had been parted, Westerbrook nuzzled his face deeper into the fly of Lionel's trousers and the stable lad swayed slightly and moaned. Then his lordship was reaching in and pulling Lionel's half-hard sausage free. Dorley almost couldn't believe his eyes. "God, I thought it was a monster yesterday. How big will it get today, boy?" Westerbrook asked as he held the stable lad's huge penis in his hand, gripping it and bringing his mouth down to it. He kissed the end of it. Then it was his pink tongue snaking out to lick the head of Lionel's cock and slobber all around it and slide up and down the firm thick shaft. Lionel was obviously affected, as he now ran both hands roughly through his lordship's hair and was moving his hips in a back and forth motion and panting. Even from where he was, Dorley could see and hear that he was panting, and also see that the sausage had grown to its full size under the attentions of his lordship. And Dorley could see the shine of the saliva that Westerbrook left coating the stable lad's cock as he licked it. Dorley stood dumbstruck as he watched what followed. Westerbrook now opened his mouth, and the sausage disappeared into it slowly at first and moved in and out as he still gripped its root. But it finally disappeared completely. How he didn't choke on such a thing was a miracle Dorley might have thought, if he was capable of thought just then. Instead, he watched as Westerbrook began to deep throat that massive tool. Bobbing his head up and down on it as Lionel's fingers tangled in his hair. But suddenly Lord Westerbrook pulled off Lionel's piece and looked at what he was swallowing. "My god, even bigger than yesterday. Even bigger than old randy Randall told me it was," he exclaimed, before opening his mouth and again sucking the huge thing in until there was only the root left outside his lordship's mouth. Dorley was more than stunned by all this; he was past any emotion now as he pulled his own throbbing tool from his own unbuttoned fly and jerked his fist up and down it rapidly, with his other hand pressed over his mouth so he didn't make any sounds. He came in an explosion of cum that seemed to pulse out endlessly across the cobbled floor of the stable. Inside the stall Westerbrook had given up his lollipop and stood up, and was now lying himself back on some hay bales and lifting and parting his legs. "Do me this way today," he ordered in a commanding voice. The stable boy rapidly shed his trousers, saying, "Whatever you want, my Lord," politely but rather mumbling it as he walked in between Lord Westerbrook's spread thighs and probed the hole before him with saliva soaked fingers while his other hand went to fisting his lordship rather slowly. What His Lordship had was far from small itself, Dorley observed at this time. Then it was the flared purple head of his cock that Lionel was positioning at Westerbrook's hair-rimmed arsehole. Once he'd slowly dragged the head around Westerbrook's puckered rim, and again, then . . . he punched it in. Dorley almost fainted as Lord Westerbrook arched and jerked and cried, "Yeow," but then His Lordship was yelling, "Harder boy. Harder. Faster." Lionel did as he was bid and pounded his hefty meat long and hard in and out of Lord Westerbrook's rear entry. So long and hard that Dorley actually felt himself harden up again and had to stroke off again, spilling a dribble of seed onto the cold stone floor. The finale in the stall came soon after. Lionel slamming his hips against his Lordship's arse, while fisting Westerbrook's cock. The peer grasped at his own nipples and shouted, "Ride me. Ride me. Fuck, I'm coming," and spouted his cream all up his belly and over his chest. At the same time, Dorley witnessed the familiar stiffening and sudden shuddering jerks that signaled Lionel's own release. Lionel pulled free soon after, but Westerbrook wasn't done. "Lick it up boy, all of it," the Lord ordered, and when Lionel looked confused he ordered him roughly, "Get on your knees boy. Lick your cum up as it oozes out of my arse, boy." Lionel hesitated, and Westerbrook aimed a kick at his balls and repeated his instructions adding, "I've told you already that I'll ruin you if you don't satisfy me." Lord Waverly was shocked. He was outraged in fact that a guest in his house should treat one of his staff in such a way. Lionel hurried to comply and vigorously licked between the thighs and butt cheeks of his Lordship until there was nothing left to lick up. And Dorley watched, fascinated, both aroused by the sight but repelled by Westerbrook's incivility. As they dressed afterwards, Dorley heard Lord Westerbrook making Lionel an offer he was unlikely to refuse. "What are you paid here?" he asked Lionel. "Five pounds a year, my Lord, " the stable boy replied hurrying to get his boots on. "You'll come and be my stable boy," Westerbrook said and laughed loudly, "I'll give you twenty pounds a year. I'll speak to the head groom right away and arrange it," he added, and Dorley, who had finally regained some of his senses, hurried away before he was discovered. Dorley could hardly look at Westerbrook when that gentleman reappeared in the drawing room for afternoon tea, looking as immaculate and superior as ever. And after dinner the two gentlemen retired to the stable for a cigar as usual but smoked in near silence before returning to the house and immediately retiring. The next day Westerbrook went out early and returned bad tempered, he went out for an after lunch cigar but was back in under half an hour, and that night at dinner he announced he was leaving for London the following morning. Lady Evangeline, who had returned that morning, tried politely to convince him to stay, but Dorley was pleased to see she didn't try too hard. So the following day they stood side by side on the gravel drive at the bottom of the steps leading up to the main entrance of the house and waved Lord Westerbrook good-bye as his carriage rolled off along the driveway. "I can't say I was taken with your friend Lord Westerbrook," Lady Evangeline said casually as they returned to the house, and her husband surprised her by grunting as if he agreed with her. After dinner that night, Dorley took a cigar from the box as usual and retired to the stables to smoke it, but he had barely lit up and started to puff when there was a shuffling sound and his stable boy, Lionel, stood before him, cap in hand and wearing clean Sunday clothes. "Beg pardon your lordship, but may I speak?" "Um, . . . uh, of course. Of course," Dorley stuttered in surprise, hardly able to look at the young man. "Mr Peterson the head groom spoke to me yesterday, sir, and I am most grateful to you for your generosity. I'm to be his assistant now he says, and on seven pounds a year, which is a right fine sum. And my wife and I shall have our own cottage." He hesitated then, and turned his cap nervously in his hands. "Not that I was going to accept the offer Lord Westerbrook made me, sir. Umm, I have a wife too. And I have heard he is not an easy master, if you will forgive me for saying so, sir. And he doesn't have the fine stable of horses, as is here, your lordship." The Stableboy "Well, yes, um, Mr Peterson is pleased with your work Lionel. He was keen to keep you," Dorley reassured him nervously. "Thank you, sir," Lionel replied. "Good. All settled then," Dorley said loudly, uncomfortable at having such a personal conversation with his stable boy and feeling his own cock twitch as he was unable not to imagine Lionel with his huge dick erect, and spilling it's seed. Lionel dipped his head respectfully and sniffed. Quite obviously, he sniffed. "Them cigars all smells different, don't they, your lordship?" he added, "But it's not a bad smell." Dorley looked up and frowned as he thought about this, "Oh, you've smelt them before then?" he replied, twisting the one in his hand about. "Yes sir. The smell is mighty strong close by," Lionel replied, "I'll be off then, sir," he added, bobbing his head respectfully and replacing his cap on his head as he left. Dorley puffed away as he considered what had been said. And when his cigar was finished he threw the butt into the cast-iron stove and returned to his house, and to his wife, Lady Evangeline, in their small retiring room. "You look unusually pleased with yourself," she remarked when he joined her. "Oh? Do I, dear?" "Yes, you do. But Dorley, when are you going to give up that dirty smoking habit?" she asked. "Give up? Oh, not for a long time yet, dear, I enjoy my cigars far too much to give them up," he answered her. The Stableboy Ch. 02 Michael was dreaming, he was back in the stables on that fateful day his Mistress had initiated him to the pleasure of pain. He was tossing back and forth on his pallet, reliving each and every exquisite blow the Mistress had dealt him. Suddenly he became aware that he was dreaming and began to stir from sleep's joyous memories. As he became more alert, close to waking he thought he felt a breeze and reached for the blanket to cover himself. He jerked quickly awake when he realized he couldn't move his hand. He was instantly trying to see through the murky darkness of his small room in the stables. The horses weren't stirring so he was confident it wasn't a stranger who had trussed him up. Instantly he thought of his Mistress, straining frantically to see her in the darkness. "Michael, you disappoint me," Mistress whispered in the darkness. Michael's head spun towards the foot of the bed, where her voice had come from. "I'm sorry Mistress, how did I displease you?" he asked. A match struck and the Mistresses face was framed by the light of a glowing candle. Michael's skin tightened in anticipation of what he hoped was going to be another evening of bliss with his Mistress. "Why Michael, how quickly you forget. You were supposed to knock and ask permission the next time you wanted to see me," replied Mistress. "I caught you glancing at me as I entered the house this afternoon, and again through the window this evening." Michael was caught without a reply, he was scared to approach the house in hopes of seeing his Mistress. Afraid that he'd be questioned as to why he, a simple stable boy, should need to speak directly to the young Mistress of the house. "I, I, I'm sorry Mistress, forgive me for my lack of courage," Michael was dreaming, he was back in the stables on that fateful day his Mistress he stammered out. "I'm sure you are Michael," replied the Mistress. "And if you weren't before you will be now." Before he could even see her moving she was pouring the hot wax from the candle across his stomach and onto his bare sweating chest. His nipples screamed out in pain and tightened instantly, hardening as the wax hardened onto his skin. Drop after drop fell excruciatingly slow from the candle onto his bare skin. Mistress moved towards the head of his pallet and placed the candle on a table against the wall and picked up a large feedbag for the horses. Michael could only wonder what she had in the bag as she turned so he couldn't see what she was doing. "Lift your head Michael," requested the Mistress. He instantly complied with her demands and soon found out the Mistress intended to slip the leather feedbag over his head like a hood. It had been modified so there were holes for his mouth and nose so he could breath but otherwise he was deprived of sight and most sound from the leather. Again his skin prickled with anticipation of what his little Mistress had planned for him. He could barely hear her as she moved about his small room, Suddenly he felt his Mistress grab his left nipple. The hard wax fell away from his nipple as she tugged it away from his chest. She had something cold and metal and seemed to be screwing it onto his nipple. As the pressure increased so did the sensitivity of his nipple. His nipple was so hard he thought she'd rip it off as she ground the screw with all her strength. She repeated the process again with his right nipple. Michael couldn't hold back and let a groan escape from his lips as the pain shot from his nipple and down his chest. Mistress slapped him hard on his already imprisoned left nipple and demanded silence. Michael bit down on his lower lip to keep from crying out again. When Mistress was done clamping his nipples he felt her move away from his pallet. He could barely hear what she was doing as she moved almost silently around his quarters. Michael was becoming more frightened. Wondering, as his nipples burned with pain, how far Mistress would take this. Michael felt the Mistress return to his pallet and grasp his cock and balls. He was terrified as he felt cold iron touch his member. He began to thrash on the bed, trying to free his hands and stop this assault. CRACK!! He felt a riding crop bite into his burned stomach and chest and stopped his thrashing. "I want no resistance Michael!," exclaimed his Mistress vehemently. Michael could only nod his head in acceptance and pray she wouldn't hurt him beyond healing. He was soon to realize it was a sort of cage she was placing his cock into with his balls soon following. A cold dread came over him as he heard a lock being closed and felt it fall against his inner thigh. What could she have planned, he worried. The Mistress went to work quickly and efficiently tying his ankles with a leather thong, spreading his legs achingly far apart. Again he heard and felt her leave the pallet and all to quickly she returned placing something beside him on the floor. He could feel her movements rather than hear them and he knew she was now disrobing. He began to relax, knowing she wouldn't be dispatching him from this life if she weren't clothed. "I told you weeks ago about sneaking and spying Michael. I was very forthright and told you what I expected of you Michael," said the Mistress. "I expect you to be forthright and brave enough to approach me like a man, not a boy, Michael." He felt her moving placing objects beside him and climbing onto the bed. "Are you a man Michael?" asked the Mistress. "Yes Mistress," replied Michael. CRACK!! Another biting reminder that Mistress wanted silence. Michael nodded his head and tried to stretch to alleviate the pain in his nipples. CRACK!! "You will not move, nor speak unless you are told to Michael," hissed the Mistress. Mistress was straddling him, sitting with her bare buttocks on his stomach. He felt the stirrings of desire in his loins and relaxed. "You like this don't you Michael?" asked his Mistress. He nodded in reply. "We'll see for how long," said the Mistress as she laughed and stretched over his head reaching for something. As his Mistress returned to her position sitting on his lower stomach he felt a drop of wax fall onto his upper chest. Michael flinched and took a deep breath, preparing to be burned. He jerked only momentarily as he had expected the excruciating pain of earlier. This time when the wax fell upon his already tortured nipples he thought he'd die from the heat, the boiling hot wax hardening on his already rock hard nipples. Slowly Mistress trailed the wax river from one nipple to the other, letting each drop fall precisely next to the last in an agonizingly slow path. Michael tried not to move, afraid the wax might shift and cause even more pain before it cooled and hardened on his chest. Mistress shifted her position and began a slow trail of boiling wax down his chest, between his nipples to his navel and ever lower. Michael's head was swimming, terror rushed through him as he realized Mistress was headed for his manhood, caged and open to her twisted worship. He felt her raise herself up, moving between his legs and off his torso. His muscles were tightening, waiting for the dreaded fall of the first drop of agony on his cock. She moved between his legs and settled herself....dripping the wax around his cock and onto his inner thigh. From one leg to the next, down one thigh and back up, Hitting the most sensitive areas of his inner thighs, getting ever closer to his sac before she'd let the wax fall on the sheet while switching thighs. The slow torture wasn't as bad as the anticipation of the hot wax hitting his manhood and scarring him. He was sweating and cold at the same time, adrenaline pumping through his veins, fear making him so alert he'd swear he could hear each drop plopping on his thighs. Mistress began blowing her cool breath over his inner thighs, cooling the wax, making it hard. Making him hard. He was straining against the imprisoning cage now. Hard as a rock and hot from her cool breath hitting him where weeks before she had tasted of him. All his mind was focused on the feeling of his cock growing against the cage, Mistress' breath upon his balls when suddenly something hard and cold was shoved in his ass. He wanted to scream out against this invasion. The hard cold of the tool being shoved in his ass caused pain to shoot up his insides to his stomach. The violator was cold, the violation burned. His cock shrank quickly. No longer feeling quite so imprisoned by the cage. His Mistress laughed, he could only guess it was due to his humiliation. She began to pump the tool in and out of his ass, when he realized that whatever tool she was using, was attached to her. She was fucking him luck he dreamed of fucking her. She was kneeling between his thighs pumping into him. Rutting like a stallion on a mare. She grunted each time she drove the offending tool deep within his ass, and sighed a little as she pulled it out. She grasped him by his inner thighs, pulling his legs just a little further apart. She could now see the tool pumping in and out of him if she chose to look down. It opened his ass for her, and she began swinging her hips left and right, pumping him slowly. As he began to sense her rhythm he relaxed, opening himself to her deep upthrusts going with the pain rather than against it. His cock began to stir as she hit the now familiar spot within him that he loved for her to stimulate. He was at once ashamed and pleased that his Mistress could make him feel the pleasure he craved. She shifted positions once more, loosening one of his ankles so she could prop herself on one leg and drive deeper, bringing back the pain as she drove deeper within him. Michael began to sweat, he feared she'd tear him apart with each thrust as she increased the pressure and speed with which she was fucking him. His skin prickled once more as he imagined the worst. All his fears flew through his mind now as she fucked him harder and harder, what if they were caught in such a position. What if she tore him and he bled to death. What if she stopped and left him to be found this way tomorrow. Deeper and faster her hips drove, he wanted to scream out in agony when again she found a rhythm and he met her every thrust. His cock was now straining against the cage, raw iron against his most sensitive skin. He was being impaled in his ass and his cock was being crushed by the pressure caused by itself.. Suddenly Mistress let go of his thighs and grabbed his nipples roughly. Pinching them ever so lightly while driving deep in his ass. He couldn't help himself and cried out in pain. She twisted his nipples ruthlessly and drove hard and deep tearing his ass apart as punishment. Michael now knew he had no choice but to remain completely silent or he'd be torn in two. Mistress laid herself upon him as a man lays upon a woman and began to lick his burning nipples. He could feel himself readying to cum. Her breasts crushed his tortured nipples as she kept her pace and moved further up his body, licking and nipping his skin as she moved. She was now positioned exactly as he had envisioned himself placed upon her and she was thrusting into him as he had envisioned himself thrusting into her. He was so hard, so hot, so near his time, wanting to explode, fearing it. Mistress nuzzled at his neck, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down before she'd release it and start again in another spot. Every nerve in his body was alert to her touch, her skin. The moisture of his sweat and the warm wax trapped between her thrusting body and his prone form. It was sweet torture, the pleasure he craved and the punishment he knew he deserved for lusting after the young Mistress. Again the Mistress was above him, Up on her hands, thrusting deeper again, hitting his spot only she knew how to find. "You are close aren't you Michael?" asked the Mistress. Michael hesitated only a moment before nodding. "You want to explode don't you Michael?" she asked huskily. Again he nodded. Still thrusting, propped on one hand she reached the other down between their bodies and grabbed the cage, yanking hard at the unyielding iron. Michael could hold back no longer...as she tugged once again on the cage he exploded....his white hot cum spurting out over both their stomachs. His back arched as she yanked and drove the tool deep in his ass harder and harder. He was spiraling, fighting the blackness that threatened to engulf his mind. He rode the pleasure, cresting each wave Mistress forced upon him with her thrusts. Finally she pulled the tool from within his ass and released the cage from her firm grasp. She climbed off him and he felt her tugging at the hood on his head. He breathed of her scent and let his eyes adjust to the light. He watched her as she turned around and was shocked to see the tool she had used in his ass was a perfectly carved replica of a male cock. It was attached to her with a leather harness and buckles. Michael burned with shame as he realized he had been fucked like a man, by a tool shaped by a man to look like a man. A tool he had heard only women used. He was torn between the pleasure Mistress had given him and the humiliation of having been treated like a woman. He looked to the floor and avoided the Mistress' eyes. She laughed throatily and waggled it at him as she removed it and donned her cloak. Moving closer to the pallet he was still tied to she leaned down and kissed him. Her lips were like wine against him, Almost satiating his need for her, he drank in the taste and scent, reveling in her flavor. She stood suddenly and pulled a knife from the pocket of her cloak and released him from his bonds......before she blew out the candle. Moving towards the door he heard her turn with her hand on the door. "I won't remind you again to approach me like a man Michael. I won't have you simpering and eyeing me like a dog," said the Mistress. Michael waited, not knowing if he should respond. "I expect you to come to me in a fortnight, and I expect you to come to me like a man...." The door opened and she was gone.....again.