Fourteen-year-old Gabriel, upright and on his knees on the bed in the tutor’s chamber at the boy’s school, Rugby, his father had sent him to moaned and fought to control his ejaculation. His tutor, Anthony Baines, who Gabriel thought of as his Viking, held him close from behind, Gabriel’s chest encased in the man’s muscular, hairy arms. Baines, tall, beefy, covered in reddish-blond hair, a colorful tattoo of Egyptian images covering his left breast and shoulder blade, and running down his arm to his elbow, towered over his student. He wasn’t at all what anyone would think of as an English boy’s school tutor, and his students loved him for it. Gabriel worshipped him and would do anything for him. He was doing just about everything for the man at the moment.
Baines knelt close behind Gabriel, holding the small boy into his muscular body, his cock throbbing inside the boy’s tight passage, waiting for the wave of Gabriel’s need to ejaculate to pass.
The giant of a man--a teaching fellow at Rugby in ancient civilizations and an archeologist in Egypt whenever he could accumulate enough funds to go on expedition, had been edging Gabriel for nearly an hour--taking him to the edge of an ejaculation with the studded sheath encasing his cock, which augmented the thickness of an already thick cock. The cock was buried up Gabriel’s ass.
The two held there, the slight, perfectly formed, fourteen-year-old golden blond and the hairy, golden-red-haired muscular god of nearly seven feet tall, Gabriel skewered on the bruiser’s augmented cock, waiting for Gabriel’s breath to regularize once again. The bearded giant was also breathing hard. He’d never before had such a luscious and willing little piece to work with--a brilliant, world-wise student to boot, who was as interested in Egyptian lore as Anthony was and who was picking up Arabic quickly. On his part, Gabriel, who had known the cocks of several talented cocksmen, had never been taken by someone both overpowering rough, and concurrently crude and refined and demanding in his technique and toys.
When Gabriel’s breath was steady and the tension had gone out of his body, Baines started again. He pulled back from Gabriel’s hole four inches, listening to Gabriel’s hiss at the loss of depth of the studded shaft inside him, grasped the root of his cock, buried in the luxuriant reddish-blond bush of pubic hair, and revolved the studded cock inside Gabriel’s passage. His teeth latched onto one of Gabriel’s earlobes.
“Oh fuck, oh shit!” Gabriel cried out in passion. Baines ran his tongue into Gabriel’s ear, while he continued to worry the boy’s passage with the studs covering the sheath. He had told Gabriel that he had a toy he’d picked up in a Cairo bazaar and did Gabriel want to try it out. Gabriel had said yes. Gabriel was being driven to distraction by the studs punishing his passage walls. Gabriel was walking on the clouds.
“Oh god, I can’t take any more,” Gabriel cried out.
“Yes you can,” Anthony growled. He pulled Gabriel’s head around to where their faces were together and took the boy’s mouth in a brutal kiss. Gabriel went wild in his embrace, moving his pelvis with the sheathed cock Anthony continued revolving in Gabriel’s passage.
“This time,” the bruiser called out as he released his embrace of Gabriel’s torso and pushed Gabriel’s cheek down to rest on the mattress. “You have my permission to come now.”
The big man held Gabriel’s head down with a hand on the back of his neck. He reached around with the other and grasped and began milking Gabriel’s cock. He set his cock to pistoning Gabriel’s ass, the studs of his sheath punishing Gabriel’s walls. At the start of the finish, Baines leaned back, putting his weight on his hands, pressed into the mattress behind him. This was one of his favorite sight in fucking Gabriel--watching his massive, augmented cock fucking what was such a tiny hole on a small boy, a boy flexible enough to open to the requirement of whatever penetrated it--and Baines had challenged that hole for the previous two months. He smiled at the sight of being in to the hilt, his reddish-blond curlies tickling the tender inner thighs of the boy, pulling out half a foot, and then sliding in again, deep, the boy moaning and his hole greedily swallowing the shaft. After watching this for half a minute, Anthony leaned forward again, hugged the luscious boy close, reached for Gabriel’s cock, and finished him.
With a cry, Gabriel shot off onto the sheets with great gobs of cum that had been rising and churning inside him for an hour of divine sexual torture. Baines came inside him a bit later.
Baines push Gabriel’s head down onto the bed, grinding the boy’s face into the mattress. Treating the boy like the whore he was.
“You are such a dichotomy,” Anthony said when he came off the bed, leaving Gabriel there, still on his knees with his ass pointed at the sky and his cheek to the bed, his eyes trained on Anthony, following every one of the man’s movements, amazed that he loved the attention of this oversized hairy Viking so much. “You are such a small, sweet, delicate looking boy. But yet you take it like a long-experienced man. You are just a little whore.”
“Yes, I am long experienced,” Gabriel answered. “But only this year, all since I turned fourteen,” he admitted.
“It’s obvious you’ve been well and expertly used,” Anthony said. “I’ll regret leaving you.”
“I’ll go on expedition in another month. I wish I could take you with me. But that reminds me. The headmaster told me he wanted you to report to him at two this afternoon.” Anthony reached down and ran his hand over the slight welts on Gabriel’s buttocks.
“I wonder what I’ve done wrong now. What reason he’ll have to cane me.”
“These marks aren’t bad. He doesn’t cane you hard, does he? He brings you in for punishment for another reason, doesn’t he?”
“Yes,” Gabriel admitted. “But he’s not cruel like you are.”
“Or well endowed and interesting like I am either, right?”
“Yes,” Gabriel admitted.
“Anyway, I think what he has to say to you will mean you won’t miss me much when I’m gone. I’ll miss you, though.”
“You know what he’s calling me in for?”
“It’s not to fuck you--this time. But I best let him tell you. For now I’m in the mood to share my ring with you.” He lifted his hand to show the large, smooth-surfaced, green jade ring on his finger.
Gabriel sucked in his breath and moaned.
“Do you want to leave now?” the tutor asked. “It’s always your choice.”
“No, I’ll stay,” Gabriel answered, breathing hard now.
“So, you are mine?”
“Yes, I am yours.”
“I thought so. You’re such a slut for this. It’s the ultimate possession,” Baines said, with a low laugh. On his command, Gabriel lay on his back on the bed, moved a leg behind Anthony’s back, hooking his ankle on Anthony’s shoulder, when the big man came down beside him and spread and raised his other leg. He panted, the heavy breathing building, as he waited for Anthony to grease up his hairy-knuckled hand with the heavy ring on it from the can of grease that had been on the stand by his bed. He lifted the hand to show it, with his fingers bunched up, to Gabriel, who moaned deeply. The hand was bigger across the knuckles than Baron von Sternburg used on Gabriel, but this wasn’t the first time the demanding Viking had fisted Gabriel.
The boy cried out and arched his back as the greased hand penetrated his asshole. Anthony held him steady and captive with one arm embracing him around his back while the hand of other was busy working its way inside Gabriel.
As he did so often, Anthony held when the hand was in position, the smooth domed surface of the jade ring pressing on Gabriel’s prostate. He waited for Gabriel’s passage to open wide, for his breathing to calm down, and for his body to relax. Then Anthony began to work Gabriel’s prostate with the jade ring--pressing his fist inside and then releasing; pressing and releasing--and Gabriel was writhing under him, crying out in pain-pleasure-passion, and well on his way to another ejaculation.
“Amazing how tight you can be at the beginning but how well you can open to this,” Anthony muttered. “None of my other boys could take it this well. You truly are a gift.”
Anthony Baines was right that the headmaster of Rugby hadn’t called Gabriel to his office to cane and fuck him, although that’s what the headmaster did whenever he could think up an infraction Gabriel remotely might have been involved in.
“An emissary has come to take you away, at least for a while,” the headmaster said.
“I don’t understand. Why is this so?” Gabriel asked. The news surprised him, but he didn’t know what he thought about it. He hated the life at Rugby and he missed his mother and the time they spent with his Austrian mentor, Baron Wilhelm von Sternburg, but, at this moment--especially as he’d just come from a melting session with the Viking, he would most miss the overpowering sex with which his tutor, Anthony Baines, used him. Gabriel was at his height of glory when a hung man was using him hard. And Baines made no bones, despite his appreciation of Gabriel’s intelligence and shared interest in Egypt, that his primary interest in Gabriel was in using his body cruelly.
“I’ll let the baron tell you. Suffice to say, you are needed elsewhere for now.”
The door to the office opened, and Baron Wilhelm von Sternburg entered the chamber.
When the baron handed Gabriel into the backseat of the Rolls Royce limousine in the motor court of Rugby, Gabriel was surprised to see that another boy was there, rather cowering in the far corner of the backseat. He was as small and as young as Gabriel was, but where Gabriel was blond and blue-eyed, the other boy was a green-eyed redhead. He was quite comely, through. He also was naked, his back pressed into the corner of the backseat, his right leg bent and laying against the back cushion, and his other leg dangling toward the floor of the car. His clothes were in a pile on the floor below him. He looked like a frightened rabbit. His butt was elevated on a pillow. His cock was hard but his hole was still closed tight. He hadn’t been fucked with a cock--at least not recently.
Sternburg handed Gabriel into the other corner of the car and the driver closed the door as the baron crossed over Gabriel and settled in the center of the seat. Once the door was closed, they were in their own world. The windows were tinted so no one could see in and those inside could only barely make out what was outside the car. The baron was unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off his body as he settled. The jacket had come off as he was entering the car.
“This is Harry,” he said to Gabriel as the only explanation or introduction. He then turned to Harry, snaked an arm around the boy’s neck, and leaned in to take the boy’s lips with his for a long, deep kiss. The boy moaned. He moaned more deeply and started to go harder as the baron ran his hand around and down the boy’s torso and settled on encasing the boy’s cock and working it to rock hard. The boy had a very nice cock.
The baron came out of the kiss, turned his head, and said, “Strip off Gabriel, if you please. I have Harry in training. I want you for relief.” He went back to the kiss and Gabriel stripped off his clothes, folded then, and put them below his feet on the floor of the moving Rolls.
Sternburg’s hand came off of Harry’s cock and he moved it to the fly of his own trousers, unbuttoning himself and flaring the trousers open. Gabriel helped strip the man’s trousers off while the baron’s hand went back to Harry’s cock and balls, which the baron played with while the boy panted hard and his body shuddered. Sternburg’s other hand was on the boy’s breast, where the man was teasing Harry’s nipples.
He removed his hand briefly from the boy’s cock to gesture with it to Gabriel to give his own cock, which was erect, attention. Gabriel leaned over and took it in his mouth, taking the baron’s balls in his hand and teasing them--rolling them, gently squeezing them, and lacing them in his fingers and distending them. The baron went harder. The baron’s hand went back to the redhead’s groin, but he didn’t take the cock this time. He moved his hand lower. His middle finger penetrated the boy’s anal opening. Harry jerked, gave a little cry, and groaned. Harry moved his other hand up to the boy’s head, grabbing a hank of the hair, and pulled the boy’s head back brutally. The baron’s mouth went to the boy’s nipples.
The boy cried out again and began to struggle in the baron’s embrace--ineffectually--as the baron’s middle finger penetrated deeper in the passage and was joined by the index finger. The boy was panting, his body was jerking, and he collapsed after the baron pulled the fingers out of his ass and grasped his cock again, stroking him hard one, two, three times, and made the boy shoot a load.
The baron immediately transitioned into pushing Gabriel’s head off his cock and turning the boy to the corner to the window side of the backseat. The baron turned to Gabriel, coming up onto the seat cushion on his knees. Sitting his buttocks back on his heels, he grasped Gabriel’s hips, turning the boy’s body to him and pulling him into his groin, impaling Gabriel’s anal passage on his cock. Gabriel reached up to grab the strap hanging above the side window with both hands and held on for dear life as the baron slammed his passage on and off his cock furiously, slowing only as he came close to an ejaculation. One, two, three, four long pulls then and the baron ejaculated deep inside Gabriel’s channel.
They rested as the Rolls motored on toward London. The baron sucked off Harry again--but didn’t fuck him--and bounced Gabriel on his cock again before they reached their destination, an old pub and inn in the countryside short of the hustle and bustle of the big city.
In an upper room of the inn after a dinner in which Harry was shy and answered any questions in monosyllables and looked at the baron with worshipful eyes and at Gabriel with the interest that one fourteen-year-old boy would have to another, Baron von Sternburg escorted the boys up to a single, large dormered room under a slopping ceiling. There was only one large bed in the room. The baron had reserved another bedroom nearby for the boys, but they wouldn’t be using it.
At dinner, the baron chatted with Gabriel as if there was nothing to discuss about the presence of another fourteen-year-old boy, one who the baron had said was “in training.” In training for what, Gabriel wondered. But he was too wary to pursue that point, either with Sternburg or with himself. As always, he was here to do the baron’s bidding. He did, though, ask how Sternburg had managed to get him out of the school.
“I told them your mother was gravely ill and that I’d been sent to fetch you. I suppose that sending a baron as a courier kept the headmaster from asking too many questions.”
“My mother is ill? Where? What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing’s wrong with her as far as I can tell. She’s somewhere on the ocean, nearing the American coast, I think. The American embassies are warning Americans to leave Europe before war breaks out in earnest. Our parting wasn’t in the best of terms. Her country’s diplomats are lumping Austrians with the Nazis.”
“She’s gone? She’s left me?”
“Yes, and me. You must understand, Gabriel. Once your father regained control and enrolled you at Rugby, there wasn’t much else your mother could do about it. She did suggest to me that we spirit you away and she take you with her. When I refused, she left me too.”
“You are of no use to me in the United States, Gabriel.”
And there it was, Gabriel thought. The baron thought of him in terms of his usefulness to the baron--to the baron pimping him out to enhance his arms deals. Well, Gabriel had to admit that the baron had never pretended it was otherwise. So, the link Gabriel’s mother had provided between the boy and the baron was broken now. And there was another fourteen-year-old here in training. Gabriel didn’t know what this meant as far as he was concerned, but he naturally was worried. And under the circumstances, he knew he had no leverage to be asking questions or making demands.
Upstairs, in the room under the roof, Gabriel sat in a chair, naked, and watched the training of Harry. The baron and Harry, both also naked, were on the bed. Harry was on his back, legs splayed, pelvis raised on pillows placed under the small of his back. His wrists were tied off at the headboard overhead--”For your own good,” the baron had said.
The baron was stretched out beside the boy. He had an arm under the boy’s neck, with a hand draped down to tease the boy’s nipple, and he was kissing the boy. There were a few greased-up dildos of progressively greater length and thickness in reach. Sternburg was gripping one of the smaller ones and had it nearly buried inside Harry’s ass. The baron was revolving the dildo and Harry was panting hard and his body was jerking. The baron came out of the kiss and whispered in the boy’s ear.
Thirty minutes later, an appreciably larger dildo was inside the boy’s passage and he was no longer jerking. He was moaning and was moving his ass on the dildo in synch with the varied wave-like motions Sternburg was using to manipulate the dildo. Gabriel could hear the boy murmuring “Yes, yes, yes” purrs of acceptance.
The training to a cock was progressing nicely.
At this point, the baron stopped and rolled over on the bed toward Gabriel. The man was hard as a rock and trembling. All he had to do was say, in a low, hoarse voice, “Gabriel,” and Gabriel knew what the man wanted--what he needed. He had worked himself up to where he ached for release, and he didn’t have Harry to the point of wanting to use that boy for his release.
Harry lay there, panting, beside them on the bed, the dildo still up his ass, while Gabriel rode Sternburg’s cock. The baron was on his back, grasping Gabriel’s waist between his hands, as, saddled on the cock, facing the baron’s head, Gabriel moved, slowly at first, then frenziedly at the point of explosion, on the cock--moving forward and back, from side to side, up and down, slowly, moving to bouncing up and down on it, ending with Sternburg slamming him up and down on the cock, with both of them coming, almost simultaneously, with a passionate shout. Through it all, Harry lay beside them, his head turned to them, taking it all in with a look of awe and want on his face.
Turning his face to Harry, Sternburg said, “You will learn to come together with a man like this too.”
Sternburg pushed Gabriel of the side and they rested--and slept--for a brief time, the baron between the two fourteen-year-old boys.
Gabriel woke to the sensation of the pitching of the bed--and to the main event. Not Gabriel’s main event. It was the main event for Harry, the event in which his innocence to the cock of a man was being torn from him. He was still on his back, his wrists bound to the headboard. The headboard was bouncing against the wall as the bed shimmy and shook. The noise from the pub two stories down was raucous enough that the beating on the wall didn’t carry through. It would not have mattered if it had. This was the sort of inn that didn’t care. Harry had his head thrown back, his mouth open in a silent scream, as the baron knelt between his legs, his cock buried in the boy’s ass, and fucked Harry in long, deep, rapid strokes.
At first, as Gabriel watched, he could see that the boy’s body was shuddering and writhing and he was grunting and groaning from the assault and the chore of taking a man’s cock despite the preparation of the dildos. At length, though, he settled down to going with the rhythm of the fuck and was moaning and making sounds of acceptance.
Step one of the training of a Von Sternburg sex slave was complete. It was at this point that the baron reached up and released Harry’s wrist restraints. Harry’s response was to wrap his arms around the baron’s chest and his legs around the baron’s thighs, crossing his ankles at the small of his back, moving his hips in the rhythm of receiving the thrusts deep. There was no doubt that Sternburg was a champion, fast-recovering cocksman; he did just enough each time to take a boy a bit farther than the last time. Turning his face, eyes glazed, tongue hanging out, lips forming, “yes, yes, yes” over and over toward Gabriel, Harry came in a flood of cum.
There had been several opportunities for the boy to escape if this wasn’t what he wanted. Gabriel had to assume that the boy was putting himself into the service of the baron willingly--just as Gabriel had done.
Gabriel rolled off the bed and padded into the en suite bathroom. He turned on the shower as full as it would go and stood under the cascading water, trying not to listen to the bouncing of the bed in the other room, as the baron continued to fuck what was left of his innocence out of the small, green-eyed, redheaded Harry.
When Gabriel came back out of the bathroom, Harry was on all fours on the bed, his cheek pressed to the mattress, an expression of extreme pain-pleasure on his face, his tail high in the air, and the baron, crouched over his ass and grasping the boy’s hips, was riding Harry’s ass in long, slow strokes.
“I believe you know Sir Walter,” the baron said when he, Harry, and Gabriel entered the foyer of the townhouse. Gabriel had no idea where they were, other than in London. They seemed to be in a good part of the city, though. This was just one of several townhouses that looked like one long, four-story white-walled brick building set in a curve of a crescent and faced by a wide brick street and a park. Gabriel could only tell that it was more than one residence because there where steps up from an English basement to porches and front doors at intervals around the curve. Each section made for a large residence.
“Yes, I do,” Gabriel said. Sir Walter Peterson had been in Morocco at the same time the baron and Gabriel were earlier in the year, in the spring. Morocco was where Baron von Sternburg had taken Gabriel and his mother for a vacation and where he had seduced, repeatedly fucked them both, and had entrapped them both into serving his munitions industry dealings. Peterson had been there with a young man, the poet George Smythe, who Gabriel didn’t particularly like. Smythe had returned the dislike, evidently seeing Gabriel as competition before Gabriel knew he would be. Sir Walter and George had been introduced in Morocco as friends of Gabriel’s mother. They were the first couple Gabriel had realized were gay.
“I have someone upstairs for Gabriel,” Sir Walter said. “And someone for you too. He’s fine with you watching. Yours is a virgin. Paid well for you to take that from him, though. Harry, you can go to your room for now. I trust the baron has initiated you.”
Harry looked shyly at the floor, which was all Sir Walter needed to know.
So, this was where Harry had come from, Gabriel thought. Then he wondered what was going on here. No one had said in Morocco what Sir Walter did for a living. He had shown every indication that he didn’t have to do anything.
A servant led them up the stairs, two flights, to a large room dominated by a large bed. A boy, of the same age, if a younger fourteen, as Gabriel, was cowering in an overstuffed chair across the room from the bed. He was quite good looking, with dark hair, and a boy’s body beautiful enough for Michelangelo to want to sculpt. He was trembling, sunken into himself in the chair, and naked.
An older, a bit pudgy, but not exactly obese man, with gray hair, but a commanding air, was sitting at the foot of the bed. He was naked except for underdrawers and calf-high socks held up with leg gaiters. His clothes, expensive looking, were folded and sitting on a nearby straight chair. His eyes were on the boy in the chair, and his cock was out of his fly and in his hand.
There were no introductions. The baron obviously knew what was supposed to be happening.
The gray-haired man fucked Gabriel on the bed, with Gabriel on his back at the foot of the bed, the man holding his naked legs raised and spread, and the man, the underdrawers gone, standing between Gabriel’s thighs and fucking him. He wasn’t young and he had a bit more meat on his bones than was necessary, but he was muscular and in pretty good shape for his age. He was neither long nor thick. Nor was he affectionate, although he did get in a good ride and praised Gabriel on the beauty of his body, and Gabriel, because he knew that’s what the baron wanted him to do, arched his back, teased his nipples, and cried out how gloriously the man was fucking him. The baron and the man were respectful toward each other and seemed to know each other. That and the look the baron gave Gabriel told him to give this man a good ride.
Gabriel set his pelvis into a rhythm of the fuck, which picked up as the gray-haired man gave a look of surprise and pleasure, a look that intensified as the muscles of Gabriel’s passage grasped the cock, such as it was, closed down on it tight, and rippled over the captured staff. By now, Gabriel was a first-class whore. The man came quickly after that and leaned over Gabriel and kissed him on the lips.
“Good show,” the man murmured.
“Stay in me,” Gabriel whispered. “I can make it hard again.” And, to the gray-haired man’s astonishment, Gabriel could, and they were off and running a second time. The man’s ejaculation was slight, but it was there. It was obvious to Gabriel in the delight the man took in it that this was a rare occasion for him now. Gabriel, young and vital, gave the man a strong-arced load.
What was going on in the chair was probably even more interesting, and the gray-haired man spent as much time watching it, with appreciation, as he did gazing into Gabriel’s eyes, where the boy was doing what he could to exhibit a look of pain-pleasure that would make the man feel he was being quite adequate with the fuck.
In the chair, the baron, now naked as well, had the dark-haired boy in his lap and was working the boy’s body. At first the boy was stiff, reluctant, and nervous. Under the baron’s attentions, though, he loosened up, was moaning at the baron’s hands worked his body, and relaxed in the baron’s lap, returning kiss for kiss, and holding Sternburg’s cock in his hand while Sternburg worked the boy to a hard.
To prove that the gray-haired man had been watching, he came inside Gabriel when the boy in the baron’s lap tensed, cried out, and shot off.